The English language is like London: proudly barbaric yet deeply civilised, too, common yet royal, vulgar yet processional, sacred yet profane. Each sentence we produce, whether we know it or not, is a mongrel mouthful of Chaucerian, Shakespearean, Miltonic, Johnsonian, Dickensian and American.
Stephen Fry (b.1957), The Ode Less Travelled: Unlocking the Poet Within
I was outside the Howard Hotel, before being demolished in anticipation of the unlamented Garden Bridge. A guy with lots of heavy photographic equipment wanted to be taken just quarter of a mile up the Victoria Embankment to a ship. I help him carry said equipment on board and he tells me a previous cabbie, a woman at that when asked to do the job told him to f**k off. It was good to see courtesy is still alive in our trade.
Saw a new Rolls Royce today with minicab roundels on the back, I think it’s a scam to avoid Congestion Charging, or maybe a very expensive ride after a few beers and a curry on a Saturday night.
CabbieBlog 