I have to get over to the Fantastic Mr. Fox gala screening that kicks off the London Film Festival. The day just flew and now it’s 5:50 pm. I was going to take two or three hours and do this self-orchestrated walking-around-London Beatles tour (i.e., visiting their various residences during the ’60s) but realized too late there wouldn’t be time. And I have to leave tomorrow morning. Too bad. I could easily live here.
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