He bought tea and biscuits and waited in the visiting room as the inmates filed in. But there was no Doherty. Eventually a guard called him over. Doherty had been transferred back to Wandsworth that morning. ‘So I didn’t see him. I drank two cups of tea, ate two packets of Jaffa Cakes, and fucked off. It was a right palaver.’
(HE BROUGHT PETER JAFFA CAKES. Why is that so bloody endearing?) Carl Barat, Evening Standard, 2011. (via missoneminute)
suchasinistergame 