Do bad girls really go to London?

Ok, kids, it's time. For pictures and better accounts, you should check out cosmicserpent, eye_abstains, and ms_ntropy.
So we went to London. I'll break it down:
Friday: Arrived, met Surly Joe, had a three hour mini-bus ride to the hotel that involved a tour of the same neighborhood a few times (the driver was lost, very lost). Got in to the hotel, went to get Indian food, drank at the hotel bar with Marching Bands, and slept in chastity beds (curse you twin beds! curse yooooou!).
Saturday: There was a parade. That's what all the Marching Bands were doing in town. Wandered, went to Westminster Abby, proposed to my boyfriend, shopped at the Portobello Road market- you know, the usual touristy stuff. We then consumed YO! Sushi (on a conveyer belt!), went to a pub, went to a club when the pub shut down, and met drunk English guys. We did not, however, visit The Candybar OR Filthy McNasty's.
Sunday: Went to King's Cross, Tower of London, enjoyed swanky Pizza Express, saw The Monument and St. Paul's, drank at an Australian bar, and took a bunch of pictures in the foggy darkness. And went back to drink Grolsh from a vending machine. Mmmmmm, vending machine beer.
Monday: British Museum, huge-ass bookstore, lunch at a frou-frou wine bar, and then flew back.
My loot: one Paddington Bear, one flask, one pair Comfy Shoes, one pirate shirt, some cookies, tea, and wine.

Hoooooray!!!!!