USA Honeymoon

When we were in Haight Ashbury, there were alot of Hippie inspired places run by kids who weren't even born in the 60s but who had managed to package the era and sell some grungy leather jacket that may or may not have been owned by one of the Grateful Dead for hundreds of dollars. Though Andrew did get a new leather jacket for $22 (yes, that's roughly 12UKP), he's chuffed as he ate pizza and drank Dr Pepper on a wheelie bin, whilst Goths - yes, that's Goths begged in the street. Haight Ashbury is now full of begging Goths, maybe the withdrawal from Bauhaus and the Sisters of Mercy was too much for them and when they couldn't face the top ten anymore they turned to a steady stream of Hippie music and somehow in a drunken depressing rampage (Andrew is an old Goth says this comprises of standing in dark clubs of if clubs aren't available public toilets doorways bemoaning how that we are all going to die anyway as the sun is going to fizzle out some day, before you jump on some dandelions - Andrew had a fruitful if barren teenage experience) ended up in Haight Ashbury with signs saying BLAH BLAH BLAH MONEY BLAH BLAH BOOZE BLAH with a 31 year old stood beside them eating pizza and drinking a soft drink shouting that Bauhaus still rock and how he's got the B52s and Tom Waits in his bag and that he's just found free books in the trash. Andrew brings a whole new dimension to the Brit abroad. So, after the Goths ran away, we went on hunt of hippies (GOD DAMN HIPPIES) but there were none, there was bird cawing somewhere in an aprtment above and then there were faux hippies (kids who weren't even an itch in someone's scrotum, not necessarily there father's) and hippies with fake boobs - how can you be free with silicone in you? Summer of Love meets Summer of Plastic Surgery or Summer of Sam.