This morning, I saw 11 women I wanted to sleep with. None on the platform, though. It was cold, but my hands didn't hurt because I had my special gloves on. The train was early, and I got a seat with a table. I was sitting opposite a man with a nice laptop, but a dreadful shirt and tie. I wanted his computer, but not his clothes. The first woman was from Manchester. She was plain, but looked like a trier. I noticed her admiring me. And then, as we roll into Euston, the numbers rack up: 3 slutty looking blondes on the concourse; a well-built black girl on the tube... and then Pimlico - over vauxhall bridge road, lurching towards the grid, and the art school girls never let me down... BINGO! BINGO! BINGO! And now, I'm rolling down, past the Morpeth, nod to the soviet bird, washing the step, and out onto Millbank and over in one! Good luck today, it seems.