Compare And Contrast

Coming to and finding yourself chowing down on bone dry falafel well past 1am in some neon hell hole whilst rain lashes against the window of what looks to be the heart of Old Compton Street, then realising you're in some joint called fucking Maoz - wtf - with a 45 minute bike ride home through a monsoon, is an unpleasant way to end a thursday night.

Which is why if you're gonna go big, always go out in Soho.

Because however destroyed you get, you can bet there's going to be someone 2 metres away that's instantly going to make you feel a fuck of a lot better about yourself.

46 photos later i had the decency to wake the brother up.

To take another photo.

Look how confused he is.

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