tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-199645872024-03-07T22:58:32.271+07:00making like caineA Thailand travel photoblog with witty musings.Davehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17147817797039125375noreply@blogger.comBlogger317125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19964587.post-27422380681003624742013-09-30T21:28:00.004+07:002014-01-14T15:43:43.259+07:00Funny hotel room notice<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy7a-hDbJmmQoPGlHIfp3AAlgsLyqCU37AOPqw4hPJohCb-teHQ5RkjqPbGLzN3JlLjj-lNrdupspNgDivMhhNMWDao9dXTgOMLTMtQJ29cvpv5US3tRikLfkddHsJsGrC1iaHLg/s1600/hotel+notice.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy7a-hDbJmmQoPGlHIfp3AAlgsLyqCU37AOPqw4hPJohCb-teHQ5RkjqPbGLzN3JlLjj-lNrdupspNgDivMhhNMWDao9dXTgOMLTMtQJ29cvpv5US3tRikLfkddHsJsGrC1iaHLg/s320/hotel+notice.jpg" width="320" /> </a></div>
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Genuine notice from my hotel room taken whilst on a recent photographic jaunt to Krungthep...!!! </div>
<br />Davehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17147817797039125375noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19964587.post-83307036187794093872013-06-23T02:12:00.001+07:002013-06-23T02:12:19.198+07:00Market sellers<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-kpYT2nmvdSSf7RjepJttQ_8yZNu6Q5A9bRuw5OAfuBAh8MJUDMGGcOU95IEEhzXrZI9EFyfWLhGftsgi9rzacy_5Pdo2WY4RF-ciI0kI3HJk1MuJXGXimyW8674YuIZiLG3-OQ/s1600/DSCF2869+copyblog.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="395" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-kpYT2nmvdSSf7RjepJttQ_8yZNu6Q5A9bRuw5OAfuBAh8MJUDMGGcOU95IEEhzXrZI9EFyfWLhGftsgi9rzacy_5Pdo2WY4RF-ciI0kI3HJk1MuJXGXimyW8674YuIZiLG3-OQ/s400/DSCF2869+copyblog.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
Three pictures of market sellers taken early one morning in Hua Hin fish and meat market. I could (and did) wander around this market for hours and must have fired off about 500 shots.<br />
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Every corner I turned presented a host of amazing picture opportunities. The light was often diffucult to work with but I suppose if it was easy it wouldn't be so rewarding when you get it right.Davehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17147817797039125375noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19964587.post-89774704738619724392013-06-23T02:05:00.001+07:002013-06-23T02:05:25.753+07:00Taxi<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Three Bangkok motorcycle taxi drivers take a break for a well earned snack and a chat.Davehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17147817797039125375noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19964587.post-69841383510417687712013-06-23T01:27:00.001+07:002013-06-23T01:27:43.417+07:00Bus boy<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm-cv4e15FObnt1f0vt9JPVQcSkVgOs_iG6WF6FzplO3jnEQNLi05uqSP2tfRoJ6zsgUIEh57aeUF1uOeyFarA5Cl_arP9EGivp2ZDVdZ1M6oZw19Q4THFspDI8ZVCND5mH8892g/s1600/DSCF4067+copyblog.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm-cv4e15FObnt1f0vt9JPVQcSkVgOs_iG6WF6FzplO3jnEQNLi05uqSP2tfRoJ6zsgUIEh57aeUF1uOeyFarA5Cl_arP9EGivp2ZDVdZ1M6oZw19Q4THFspDI8ZVCND5mH8892g/s400/DSCF4067+copyblog.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
This is actually a self portrait. If you look in the lower left hand window you can see me talking this picture. Of course I had planned it this way.<br />
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Yea right...!Davehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17147817797039125375noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19964587.post-21801990280123195902011-02-16T11:24:00.001+07:002011-02-16T11:29:50.547+07:00Rice life<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglyav7t2B6CcQOKNcTw7-m-bpnHPROlCr6NL73PxgVdeN3KB7rNLKBzPjBBwYEdfcgZgYygfPgUXD_KuTArLozUd1nc_AzTqPYfVuAU43MfW8ZcnPA-XnZTuj6hH7bwal-EDoBaQ/s1600/rice+fields.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglyav7t2B6CcQOKNcTw7-m-bpnHPROlCr6NL73PxgVdeN3KB7rNLKBzPjBBwYEdfcgZgYygfPgUXD_KuTArLozUd1nc_AzTqPYfVuAU43MfW8ZcnPA-XnZTuj6hH7bwal-EDoBaQ/s400/rice+fields.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Rice paddy fields as far as the eye can see. Carefully tended by a dedicated band of workers. Its back breaking stuff as most of the work is done in the stoop position and of course a big floppy hat is de-rigueur to fend off the raging afternoon sun.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The normal rice growing period is between July and September<span style="font-size: x-small;"> </span><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">but can vary between regions. The above picture was actually taken out of that season bracket and as a consequence is not as green and picturesque as it will be in a few months time. I won't be there then so you'll just have to be make do with this picture instead.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsBWV4h76U9RvPuC_-XQxLnMqO6YVDGaaqK5JKnzxzF8qQhsRJv2G5_AMwllVa14dTPqDerqvja-4grHfrX3VklaVuyaz2HV0p5hf1YDbOIpF0a7x0jwLm2fvFUB0GJyNHO6EwOQ/s1600/village+life.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="cssfloat: left; height: 302px; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; width: 291px;"><img border="0" height="335" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsBWV4h76U9RvPuC_-XQxLnMqO6YVDGaaqK5JKnzxzF8qQhsRJv2G5_AMwllVa14dTPqDerqvja-4grHfrX3VklaVuyaz2HV0p5hf1YDbOIpF0a7x0jwLm2fvFUB0GJyNHO6EwOQ/s400/village+life.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Meanwhile back in les village all is deathly quite. It appears I am the only one crazy enough to be wandering around with my camera in the midday heat. I am eyed suspiciously by drowsy eyes peering from within shady hollows. I can hear snigger's and the words 'ting tong ferrang' (crazy foreigner) being whispered. But being stout of trouser I soldier on regardless, oblivious to all around me, searching for that all important National Geographic front page picture. A scorpion bringing down a fully grown bull elephant or the fabled (only by me) all female nude marathon run. If only...! </div>Davehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17147817797039125375noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19964587.post-91221556764645182152011-02-10T19:39:00.004+07:002011-04-27T07:31:29.263+07:00Cock fighting<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqsYASCHaXsqr-q7VVbaBDIuxuy-2lyOpsUB5KwvoZIHIvoW6DjzI6eH0HAK3T_UDbexo5j3LqsFgCGqCjAFK1hm8ZGBLKpgrk2twiTQa198NvtVVTDh4L_xQ8D_eVPnIA7g-93A/s1600/cock+fighting.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5572039738991311426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqsYASCHaXsqr-q7VVbaBDIuxuy-2lyOpsUB5KwvoZIHIvoW6DjzI6eH0HAK3T_UDbexo5j3LqsFgCGqCjAFK1hm8ZGBLKpgrk2twiTQa198NvtVVTDh4L_xQ8D_eVPnIA7g-93A/s400/cock+fighting.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 300px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><br />
Whilst in n/e Thailand I was invited to view some cock fighting. Now I don't advocate such an event but having never seen anything like it before and seeing as it was sort of put on for my benefit it seemed churlish not to at least take a peek.<br />
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The cocks in question were preened for ages and I mean preened. They were washed down with some sort of lime water they had their throats cleaned out with a feather? and generally given a sort of bird spa pampering.<br />
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They didn't (thank god) have the usual knives attached to their feet as this was I guess used as a training event. Although I don't suppose the birds knew the difference.<br />
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Once thrown together they seemed to know what was expected of them and began pecking at each others backs (you can see the raw flesh in the above picture).<br />
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To be honest I got a bit bored after a while but the villagers seemed enthralled to the max. I suppose they don't get to watch much TV and certainly don't have a PS3 or an Xbox.<br />
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The thing that struck me the most was that the birds never backed off from each other. They just kept on pecking and pecking. Even if one seemed to be loosing it never seemed to occur to it to run away! It would just keep on attacking and get more bloodied. Maybe the birds were drugged? All the villagers were certainly well sozzled by the end of the first fight. I had to be quite resolute in refusing the kindly offered home brewed Lao Khao (lethal rice spirit).<br />
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All in all I found it all a bit pointless and cruel. I suspect with the razor sharp blades attached the fights are a lot shorter but that's defiantly not for me.Davehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17147817797039125375noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19964587.post-22419570309547762942011-02-03T22:51:00.007+07:002011-02-09T15:39:17.060+07:00Plates of pure pleasure<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieLHbP5kY86J4ykm2gRr9a9PLe9Us-omK73Xy8uAl911gBeENWj3MZQ_agJrHNZv2PFcnNbAIFZFia8WKuhdPILiF6Gfa5NyijcpMnGUVBF3B3QqsBxc9Mm4naEIE9Okp9zqrdyQ/s1600/food1.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5569491647937476722" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 260px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieLHbP5kY86J4ykm2gRr9a9PLe9Us-omK73Xy8uAl911gBeENWj3MZQ_agJrHNZv2PFcnNbAIFZFia8WKuhdPILiF6Gfa5NyijcpMnGUVBF3B3QqsBxc9Mm4naEIE9Okp9zqrdyQ/s400/food1.jpg" border="0" /></a>One of the many meals consumed by my good self during my recent sojourn to the Land Of Smells. I never get fed up with eating vegetables, rice, fish etc. These little plates of pure pleasure (as I refer to them) each contain spices and flavours in abundance. Each mouthful is an explosion of pure ecstasy. Take the dish bottom left. I won't attempt the Thai translation but in English its called 'morning glory'. The dish has been cooked with chilli's in an oyster sauce and as I type this I can literally taste it. Hmmm wonderful.<br /><br />After a few weeks of I start to feel so much better. The food must have something to do with it? Oh and the nice hot weather.<br /><br />This time I brought back a big jar of crushed chili powder and find myself adding it to almost everything I cook. I now crave the heat like a drug!Davehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17147817797039125375noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19964587.post-75666764323102297322011-02-01T02:52:00.007+07:002011-02-09T15:28:32.101+07:00Market<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjSXygj3QSyJR4HtCLm1kXdkb3CscHWKUNNO4HEyJkdDHE5Skvav4Cecg_qL1O94eCgFMkgQQhxT5iWL-B2MldOMB824ddmF6LU1EVlG1I6JuAZtQ8ESV24DiG6AQ2q5Kb2xI2Sw/s1600/market+girl.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5568442967466976018" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 290px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjSXygj3QSyJR4HtCLm1kXdkb3CscHWKUNNO4HEyJkdDHE5Skvav4Cecg_qL1O94eCgFMkgQQhxT5iWL-B2MldOMB824ddmF6LU1EVlG1I6JuAZtQ8ESV24DiG6AQ2q5Kb2xI2Sw/s400/market+girl.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />During an early morning market jaunt near Surin I caught this wistful glance from a young market worker. I wonder what she's thinking? Probably that it's too cold and early to be up!<br /><br />Sadly this picture can't convey the smells, noise and colours of the ensuing cacophony that is an early morning market in Thailand. Needless to say its organised chaos.<br /><br />I've never seen so many chicken heads (who buys these and why?) buckets of various living crustaceans and animal body parts in any one place before. Everywhere you look there is something interesting to point the lens at.<br /><br />I wish veggies and meat were as cheap in the UK...!Davehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17147817797039125375noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19964587.post-51006253598449540672011-02-01T02:44:00.005+07:002011-02-09T16:17:13.395+07:00Menue<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfjok8lm9hCL8UjHiKkzyRdkEtjvkrsn43b8g1ZvnQVeHyPqA92eFS981XvHp3pYfyR95r4Drj0cgIDVtoP3IiPd4qY0W7jyf07la-5arfx_RSwZ9_GZGMU2gJLKki7qChAW1XEA/s1600/menue2.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5568438653757516754" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 307px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfjok8lm9hCL8UjHiKkzyRdkEtjvkrsn43b8g1ZvnQVeHyPqA92eFS981XvHp3pYfyR95r4Drj0cgIDVtoP3IiPd4qY0W7jyf07la-5arfx_RSwZ9_GZGMU2gJLKki7qChAW1XEA/s400/menue2.jpg" border="0" /></a>Some of the menue translations always make me laugh when I go out to dine. I try not to laugh too loud because they really are trying to please and English must be as hard for them as Thai is for us westerners. Still sometimes its hard not to.<br /><br />Offensive odour anyone? or perhaps a little something burnt?<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9oaOS5PKx4ZHYe5YZ3RycDczwacISOrg_zXCZe9W0zo94_lvgp7704nkUiQ07vuEnD6ww9hf1oYJhip3NhllGqkETwno97IazcU_uVXcFq0ps5mlC2ePfTLCFp29Y6l_u7lthFw/s1600/menue1.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5568438638581412498" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 317px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9oaOS5PKx4ZHYe5YZ3RycDczwacISOrg_zXCZe9W0zo94_lvgp7704nkUiQ07vuEnD6ww9hf1oYJhip3NhllGqkETwno97IazcU_uVXcFq0ps5mlC2ePfTLCFp29Y6l_u7lthFw/s400/menue1.jpg" border="0" /></a>Davehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17147817797039125375noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19964587.post-63772802453656127482011-02-01T01:39:00.009+07:002011-02-13T10:33:33.319+07:00Mcdonald wai<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWHv1H83xNZzrJGFT-7VbccNV9-nEnNku-5bq9E4vOPLjZ0YWxK8hRvFOtwAGhC42BnblUI_ZcURXvsrsYWA76v-ChC_WlaXZFScQXjmpY3yzyXCVjqn7yiAsINR3CRx89ZJ89Tw/s1600/macdonalde.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5568423609518958786" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWHv1H83xNZzrJGFT-7VbccNV9-nEnNku-5bq9E4vOPLjZ0YWxK8hRvFOtwAGhC42BnblUI_ZcURXvsrsYWA76v-ChC_WlaXZFScQXjmpY3yzyXCVjqn7yiAsINR3CRx89ZJ89Tw/s400/macdonalde.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; float: left; height: 400px; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; width: 300px;" /></a>At what lengths will a corporate giant prostitute itself in order to entice hungry diners to enter it's hallowed portals and dine on pure shit. The picture on the left may help to answer the question.<br />
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I'm inclined to think McDonald's are taking the piss. Seeing an over sized plastic clown sporting red hair, a gay yellow romper suit and a sinister sarcastic smile wai me every time i pass causes me to wince.<br />
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The very fact the welcome sign is in English only tells me their target market is not the Thais. Would they eat poo? No! their palette is far more discerning. Its only the supposedly educated westerner that has a diet akin to Beelzebub's bottom.<br />
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I can promise you one thing I have definitely not been inside. If I'd wanted to dine on a piece of damp cardboard draped with a sheet of limp yellow plastic I'd probably eat the Bangkok Post. At least it would be educational.Davehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17147817797039125375noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19964587.post-3751278928668293852009-06-01T03:26:00.002+07:002009-06-01T03:42:10.363+07:00Air shed<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpkk5nDb5sw1pe355s0XDT8NBDF-JbQBL4oPb2BwILTSnrnnTPOR9E-tkxD9Z2myJx5mToaSqq3onKCmDKbDUczRngPxuRwmw-fx_0NvvRRIFAQY0weubFo4DLr3wgUgNhDg7FiA/s1600-h/shed.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 335px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpkk5nDb5sw1pe355s0XDT8NBDF-JbQBL4oPb2BwILTSnrnnTPOR9E-tkxD9Z2myJx5mToaSqq3onKCmDKbDUczRngPxuRwmw-fx_0NvvRRIFAQY0weubFo4DLr3wgUgNhDg7FiA/s400/shed.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342087763780877298" border="0" /></a>Even your average hairy arsed builder needs a shed to retire to now and again and so what if he is 40 feet up a scaffold pole at work?<br /><br />He needs a place to house his lad mags collection. A place to contemplate life and what to have for breakfast. A place to just be at one with his inner child.<br /><br />I give you the 'Air shed'. No real man can be without his...Davehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17147817797039125375noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19964587.post-71771956275805789882009-03-02T20:18:00.004+07:002009-03-10T22:57:08.212+07:00Pavement artist<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipbWxfUQID2IPaXaEkaaADhjciVsxGBtbiFjcd1eI70D-EGAwNxiIbyfSMSpshmsR-q7OCCh6OWMb725Ju104weaXzsx3s4Io2mfRcWL7rcDnkLVZGmbZ2x65wOIWJDUIe0NxfAA/s1600-h/bum.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 302px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipbWxfUQID2IPaXaEkaaADhjciVsxGBtbiFjcd1eI70D-EGAwNxiIbyfSMSpshmsR-q7OCCh6OWMb725Ju104weaXzsx3s4Io2mfRcWL7rcDnkLVZGmbZ2x65wOIWJDUIe0NxfAA/s400/bum.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308579810192071570" border="0" /></a>Just checkup yourself day by day... Wise words indeed from this cheeky pavement artist but I doubt this method would be possible by any living human being other than one of those incredibly bendy Chinese circus performers!<br /><br />I have seen this picture before on the net, but seeing it 5 feet high in living colour somehow made it seem more real. Its a hideous thought. How does one breath? Perhaps not a good idea as the smell would be a bit over powering.<br /><br />What is uncanny is the fact that the artist must have met my old boss as the likeness is amazing...!Davehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17147817797039125375noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19964587.post-33690018885630083002009-02-08T04:26:00.003+07:002009-02-08T05:01:28.819+07:006 nations rugby<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqxgUtKr5sD1VRkTXoOnjt1kbLFlpplmdOrf0QpnEaUde8us235rzm-saXN0lJ63fMrynKUhyphenhyphennBhb273OT_YtnhqDsSIJTETRIjyZZ5uQnwsAvhdg-fvtDsnxNn1BIDrHLoKGIUA/s1600-h/rugby1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 332px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqxgUtKr5sD1VRkTXoOnjt1kbLFlpplmdOrf0QpnEaUde8us235rzm-saXN0lJ63fMrynKUhyphenhyphennBhb273OT_YtnhqDsSIJTETRIjyZZ5uQnwsAvhdg-fvtDsnxNn1BIDrHLoKGIUA/s400/rugby1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300171450383028386" border="0" /></a>Its been a while since I've been to Twickenham so when some free tickets presented themselves there was no choice. I felt it my duty bound to attend.<br /><br />The occasion was the opening game of this years 6 nations and England's opponents were Italy. It was a bitterly cold day but 4 compulsory pre match pints of Guinness gave me the required warm glow that only alcohol can provide.<br /><br />This was the first time I'd attended with the new south stand alterations, and I have to say now for the first time to me Twickers looks complete. It will now seats 82,000 supporters but believe you me tickets for the big games are as rare to get hold of as rocking horse shit! My free one had a face value of £71 would you believe.<br /><br />The final score was a pleasing England 36 Italy 11Davehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17147817797039125375noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19964587.post-24571182091820988302009-01-07T04:37:00.004+07:002009-01-07T10:04:05.103+07:00Frozen fountain<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNcQB7b0O5Q0z7W9D-mHck_LXN5DIxmpP54ZmbxoTJEQZuNYdq1iHaLX5mtQxq676apbkeWjR0h06kqbT9Ud8piNSwFzioPuzs5Gt7oT-5FFMMPvbq276WppZ8Ztq4aEJmINcL9Q/s1600-h/iced+over.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNcQB7b0O5Q0z7W9D-mHck_LXN5DIxmpP54ZmbxoTJEQZuNYdq1iHaLX5mtQxq676apbkeWjR0h06kqbT9Ud8piNSwFzioPuzs5Gt7oT-5FFMMPvbq276WppZ8Ztq4aEJmINcL9Q/s400/iced+over.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288298212473241186" border="0" /></a>I recently came to a rather startling conclusion. I wasn't built for the cold. Its taken me over 40 years to realise the fact but realise it I have.<br />We all assume that we acclimatise to where we were born and live. Rubbish! don't you believe it. Having lived in hot countries for the last 5 years and now having endured 8 months back in England I now know that I hate the cold with a living passion the like of which I have never known before.<br /><br />One of the kick backs of living in a cold climate is the fact that I have lived in London for most of my life and I hardly know my neighbours? Sure I know their names (ish) I will pass them every now and again on the street and nod, but I don't really know them. If you know what I mean. Which is sad.<br />I have lived in Thailand for 5 years and not only do I know my neighbours but I know nearly everyone around me for a 500km radius. This is because when it is hot you tend to live outside, when it's cold the truth is you don't.<br /><br />So my advice to you all is - live outside and have a community based happy life. Which pretty much means if you live in a cold climate and aren't a hobo. Move...Davehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17147817797039125375noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19964587.post-86065829613603907762008-12-27T09:32:00.003+07:002008-12-28T00:10:14.955+07:00Primo Blues<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIAjXHNKPjdOXDeXVJnLRhGWN-VjUFsyhJ5BquN8hHqovJ7FU_6pJl5S8W3B35x8FPuoSUmjO49Yk-bPqjDlNExYNeUlaevpcxtVdTWjVvC0OQou4-9ZK3KXcAJ3Kv1YyXTLCAsw/s1600-h/primo+blues.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 260px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIAjXHNKPjdOXDeXVJnLRhGWN-VjUFsyhJ5BquN8hHqovJ7FU_6pJl5S8W3B35x8FPuoSUmjO49Yk-bPqjDlNExYNeUlaevpcxtVdTWjVvC0OQou4-9ZK3KXcAJ3Kv1YyXTLCAsw/s400/primo+blues.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284292345506078114" border="0" /></a>When I'm not working to fill King Gordy's ever swelling coffers I sometimes make my way down to the local hostelry to sample a spot of good old dog dying blues.<br />The other night I caught an outfit called 'Primo Blues' These guys were as tight as a nuns knicker elastic and aside from playing some hot porch swinging blues they also threw in a goodly portion of twiddly fingered beardy jazz.<br />An evening of good music combined with far too many pints of Batemans 'Rosey Nosey', a fruity Christmas ale of pant ripping ferocity. Meant that the next day was spent with my head in my hands and a well placed cork. Good night though...!Davehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17147817797039125375noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19964587.post-82161853495562420452008-12-27T03:02:00.003+07:002008-12-27T05:53:01.178+07:00Mock hunt<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUE1jSG0B1iXtsKvSObASYX1u7q6xEXXk3EOfPiwpx5I1FtTeymtfiRtJCOVUlEls7C0oXZNPD-rW55tmaGjNx6IwBRkbKG4Dl3GEmuGTAoc_oRQQ2lKN_1iS5fdKQrG-N-sIXtg/s1600-h/horse+2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 286px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUE1jSG0B1iXtsKvSObASYX1u7q6xEXXk3EOfPiwpx5I1FtTeymtfiRtJCOVUlEls7C0oXZNPD-rW55tmaGjNx6IwBRkbKG4Dl3GEmuGTAoc_oRQQ2lKN_1iS5fdKQrG-N-sIXtg/s400/horse+2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284227560763291282" border="0" /></a>Its Boxing day and by George its time for a bally good hunt. This apparently is what they call a 'mock hunt' as no fox will hopefully be worried to death in the process. Instead one of the disabled riders will have his or her horse confiscated, be made to don a yellow jump suit and ordered to limp off, only to be followed a few seconds later by the rest of the hunt armed with cudgels and screaming like banshees.<br /><br />The whole affair has quite an eerie feel, as these middle England horsey types are rather a secretive inbred bunch who are rarely seen after dark and mumble in tongues.<br />It is mooted in hushed breaths that anyone who happens across one of their hobblings will never again sire a man child!<br /><br />The hunt itself was roughly an equal mix of bi and quadruped forms. In some cases to be honest it was hard to tell the difference, but as a general rule of thumb I was informed if it shits on the ground its probably a horse.<br /><br />After they had all emptied their bowels and wobbled off to cudgel the freak the rest of us retired to the warmth of the snug for a foaming pint of wallop and a damned good drubbing...!Davehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17147817797039125375noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19964587.post-66253998543579432802008-12-18T06:30:00.006+07:002008-12-18T11:40:49.417+07:00Festive merry go round...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOQk6nm_mOLibpsnZiSAnB_uD6NcucbpN-yW0m53MCW6De_2MnIz5CK0BMNKkJzgNp42LZUcBuI9eXfC_hg7m4t4NyqfdPUq_eQ1xpL3x60VV45zZ2SFQZSn6jz3QOCpItkHV2QQ/s1600-h/merry+go+round.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOQk6nm_mOLibpsnZiSAnB_uD6NcucbpN-yW0m53MCW6De_2MnIz5CK0BMNKkJzgNp42LZUcBuI9eXfC_hg7m4t4NyqfdPUq_eQ1xpL3x60VV45zZ2SFQZSn6jz3QOCpItkHV2QQ/s400/merry+go+round.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280985291916758690" border="0" /></a>The festive season is upon us once more and good cheer is flowing like P45's out of a Woolworth's store.<br />Its all lost on me though as I strictly adhere to the Ebenezer bah humbug school of thought. Visa vie that crimbo is a total waste of time and money. Its all one big advertisement for 'Noel's beard party' or that churchy programme 'Songs of bollocks'.<br />This is the first time in in ages I've been in the UK at Christmas and as a consequence I'm having to endure the constant peel of 'jingle bells' emanating from every well meaning orifice.<br />If I see one more advert for Tescos value butterball turkeys, I swear I'll butterball someones fucking arse...!<br /><br />Now don't get me wrong, if you have children (which I don't) then Christmas perhaps might be a joy, who knows? I remember as a kid waiting for the clock to strike midnight whereupon I would spring out of bed like a cartoon cat and bounce on my parents bed until I was allowed to open my presents. They must have been saints. Now I just want to work over the holidays or be abroad somewhere they don't celebrate commercialism...Davehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17147817797039125375noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19964587.post-60780241187125313462008-11-21T11:30:00.003+07:002008-11-21T12:05:30.748+07:00Giant snowman<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicvXOVVa2pTVSryXjBmwVji1nl-hOY2hNYl8X7AmTR2Rr1IkVnMTTa_GFd7d9CakteRrUO_8OW8b9fLaLSeSH4qOWMoWjclKF0JEx4buDjBE_XOv4oHbbcHQSa1HrEmXc3KrizTw/s1600-h/header+1+.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 290px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicvXOVVa2pTVSryXjBmwVji1nl-hOY2hNYl8X7AmTR2Rr1IkVnMTTa_GFd7d9CakteRrUO_8OW8b9fLaLSeSH4qOWMoWjclKF0JEx4buDjBE_XOv4oHbbcHQSa1HrEmXc3KrizTw/s400/header+1+.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270965344191679394" border="0" /></a>These poor saps tooling down London's Carnaby street don't realise they're about to be flattened by a giant snowman!<br />Judging by its trajectory at least a couple of dozen shoppers are in for the Christmas surprise of their life. It must be the result of recent global warming as flying snowmen in this area aren't usually this large.<br />This is the first Christmas I've been back in England for five years and I'm not looking forward to the experience at all. Christmas shopping, oh the pain and expense of it all...Davehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17147817797039125375noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19964587.post-21839150400824988632008-11-20T05:44:00.002+07:002008-11-20T06:05:20.285+07:00Weird window<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCPJjgBB596zdfeoY1iCCVMWjHoiVoY-yp5mI2XcVe4MDTM4IimyJD_o2O9Y6XbxOZe5ThbwhvcuA4qbb0DwCOyyguum0YcWOw40gmPA71-5uViMtEvaYwoik_IEPP12qezUBcaA/s1600-h/window1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 375px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCPJjgBB596zdfeoY1iCCVMWjHoiVoY-yp5mI2XcVe4MDTM4IimyJD_o2O9Y6XbxOZe5ThbwhvcuA4qbb0DwCOyyguum0YcWOw40gmPA71-5uViMtEvaYwoik_IEPP12qezUBcaA/s400/window1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270503722334347554" border="0" /></a>This beautiful Dali style window is on the east side of 'St martin in the field church' central London. It was designed by artist Shirazeh Houshiary and architect Pip Horne, to replace the window installed following World War II bomb damage.<br />At present it looks like it is temporarily lit by a stand alone builders lamp, which will be a shame as it wont look so stunning at night when unlit. I hope they plan something more permanent.<br />If it go's to a committee, then there's not a chance in hell as some whacked out human rights group will claim cruelty to glass or some such other ludicrous suggestion.<br />It puts me in mind of a matrix leading to another time or dimension.<br />Imagine having to glaze the mother...!Davehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17147817797039125375noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19964587.post-80330386868867953352008-11-19T08:05:00.004+07:002008-11-19T08:31:05.414+07:00Shadow puppets<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-SteGl_SKA1Ei9qoGExtO2zINt1YYnu9Pkp9OIqtrCmPj2YRJdL-ZnpqDRBfeejy7i59QDs1ifO9bLD3CbSZDE5S5iNu3USzoo85y3kNg_Bjz7rJGnDlnpodkR0tqzU3lbrxmgg/s1600-h/body+5.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 278px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-SteGl_SKA1Ei9qoGExtO2zINt1YYnu9Pkp9OIqtrCmPj2YRJdL-ZnpqDRBfeejy7i59QDs1ifO9bLD3CbSZDE5S5iNu3USzoo85y3kNg_Bjz7rJGnDlnpodkR0tqzU3lbrxmgg/s400/body+5.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270169365006176338" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZyeGZrNPpM5cgfTCjzp83eZ1QoYL05K6Id8atAIqJudxvy1ShIbyDyv5QxdkGEYXPhCy4fMf5IF4nP-_vwFnO8-iKZu3A6DD9rdMtIwlKgqUB0xVMX9lr-_gzt2YA7zQigcHDLA/s1600-h/body+4.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 311px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZyeGZrNPpM5cgfTCjzp83eZ1QoYL05K6Id8atAIqJudxvy1ShIbyDyv5QxdkGEYXPhCy4fMf5IF4nP-_vwFnO8-iKZu3A6DD9rdMtIwlKgqUB0xVMX9lr-_gzt2YA7zQigcHDLA/s400/body+4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270169363580073810" border="0" /></a>Artist Rafael Lozano-Hemmer is the dude responsible for this funky installation on Trafalgar square's north terrace, where animated videos appear in the shadows of people walking throughout the area.<br />Two large projectors help pedestrians cast long shadows. Sensors are then used to track your movements and project moving portraits into them, and you know what? It works!!<br />The portraits cast inside the shadows will look at and interact with the pedestrians before appearing to lose interest as the person walks away. I thought it was pretty neat.<br />The top picture is the result of me getting my wiener out...Davehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17147817797039125375noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19964587.post-81152968010918587812008-11-03T05:18:00.006+07:002008-11-15T03:32:20.062+07:00Graffiti message<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu57hoj2vSJ1BN7KkNRBNnTGLslgdcm1TtHvGizTQm1f1DZC6L0C2EbHwQWf_MjEawGFL5QmR9xJtT6tnmLDIRwJD9OidlnuBQxzgxV1TZ9mc_YPUcJ8V5J8zb8TSN0ONgLbtrFA/s1600-h/like+game.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264188449684730962" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 400px; cursor: pointer; height: 289px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu57hoj2vSJ1BN7KkNRBNnTGLslgdcm1TtHvGizTQm1f1DZC6L0C2EbHwQWf_MjEawGFL5QmR9xJtT6tnmLDIRwJD9OidlnuBQxzgxV1TZ9mc_YPUcJ8V5J8zb8TSN0ONgLbtrFA/s400/like+game.jpg" border="0" /></a>I happened across this piece of graffiti on a shop window the other day and it got me thinking. It sort of sums up the pace of life here sometimes (London that is). Everyone rushing about like headless chickens, faces like bulldogs chewing wasps! Its so depressing even Mother Theresa would need Valium to cope.<br />Then bang! before you know it its all over, that's your lot mate, come in number 5, red bands please leave the pool area, you get my drift...<br />It makes me even more determined to keep traveling, seeking out new places to visit, new people to meet, getting to know them, swapping emails, then finding a small scrap of paper in your wallet four weeks later only to wonder who the hell it was from?<br />Well by God I mean to collect as many scraps of meaningless paper and forget as many people as my overdraft will allow me before I shuffle off this mortal coil...Davehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17147817797039125375noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19964587.post-9134678959042854122008-10-30T05:49:00.022+07:002008-11-15T04:05:20.573+07:00Food or sex?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb_zJp91wAiWH10_jszerx3_KiYWmwP8mo_lRmvMqO5u18LLzLDw6cuhC3Gm1B_BgWKU6SGWXm3PBQX2NHcQLEJZesx7csSgALP7plJrmprhdYAY9tikd7Lhyphenhyphen5QXY8FQE5l6tm6w/s1600-h/joy+of+food.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262712189425984018" style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; width: 299px; cursor: pointer; height: 400px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb_zJp91wAiWH10_jszerx3_KiYWmwP8mo_lRmvMqO5u18LLzLDw6cuhC3Gm1B_BgWKU6SGWXm3PBQX2NHcQLEJZesx7csSgALP7plJrmprhdYAY9tikd7Lhyphenhyphen5QXY8FQE5l6tm6w/s400/joy+of+food.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />You pays your money and takes yer choice at this establishment! Chinese food downstairs or a bit of slap and tickle upstairs.<br />The red lights denoting ladies of the night plying their ancient trade. Food and sex in perfect harmony. Technically both as satisfying as each other but in different ways. Spring roll anyone...?Davehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17147817797039125375noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19964587.post-7363583077646551752008-10-22T06:55:00.038+07:002008-11-15T04:04:15.639+07:00Kings of neon<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTrVzgCSg8k0QZmRbVL8l6A29oD2uSQoEbbaHrXSw72G5Lr1TSQ4ChljCvv0zgYiHNteE_pviqmZi-rgWrN3c6wvRw1UvzCac_QgqErz05UGv_vhkeCMswacGjgyktTT_MKo5BHQ/s1600-h/soho+book+shope.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259761220120187122" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; cursor: pointer; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTrVzgCSg8k0QZmRbVL8l6A29oD2uSQoEbbaHrXSw72G5Lr1TSQ4ChljCvv0zgYiHNteE_pviqmZi-rgWrN3c6wvRw1UvzCac_QgqErz05UGv_vhkeCMswacGjgyktTT_MKo5BHQ/s400/soho+book+shope.jpg" border="0" /></a>Recently Starbucks came under fire for running their taps all day and causing waste beyond comprehension. surely then this London chain of book shops can be accused of the same disregard for global well being. Lit up like the Eiffel tower 24/7 (albeit it a tad shorter)<br />I hereby dub them <span style="font-weight: bold;">'THE KINGS OF NEON'</span><br />After all we are being told all the time to turn off our vcr's and tv's, stick house bricks in our cisterns and fart in bed to keep us warm!! Give me strength...Davehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17147817797039125375noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19964587.post-6108236730622117842008-10-22T06:31:00.022+07:002008-11-15T04:05:42.451+07:00Suds Terkel<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg21ssiZJ0xiUEGQFu0xQwPvWf8LJz290oISZnfv9b68MAfF7D3Q9DkhlyaWRQO_enhiaM3KKxTkYOj4Y_A_OqAI4yWiKFDuJz8pV8X55ur1Tx8kWa1b8EudGN05JG2RE-r96L0iA/s1600-h/IMG_7137.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259754321496052498" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; cursor: pointer; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg21ssiZJ0xiUEGQFu0xQwPvWf8LJz290oISZnfv9b68MAfF7D3Q9DkhlyaWRQO_enhiaM3KKxTkYOj4Y_A_OqAI4yWiKFDuJz8pV8X55ur1Tx8kWa1b8EudGN05JG2RE-r96L0iA/s400/IMG_7137.jpg" border="0" /></a>Lets be honest its always a hoot when someone dumps soap powder into a fountain, but when that certain someone does it in the main fountain in Trafalgar square central London that takes a particularly large pair of elephant balls.<br />On the plus side it attained a nice Christmas style glow and gave everyone a damn good titter.<br />I don't suppose the maintenance crews were all that happy as it would have meant them leaving their nice warm office and doing some work...Davehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17147817797039125375noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19964587.post-39364106817587124592008-09-04T07:49:00.018+07:002008-11-15T04:06:18.475+07:00Sat Lav<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUbJiejPZg3sGhbX8yBdPU2k3I7E8delVrpq8FHuJ8dVKr3UJyK3KaW8YefyZVrEaYL11Tgm6O7FW1agvYSo0kEy71-xXLznVqEZPR7UTIonLwtmzlXtfiRvvVdXKCf8YfoO4FJg/s1600-h/toilet+sign.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241962321655003458" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; cursor: pointer; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUbJiejPZg3sGhbX8yBdPU2k3I7E8delVrpq8FHuJ8dVKr3UJyK3KaW8YefyZVrEaYL11Tgm6O7FW1agvYSo0kEy71-xXLznVqEZPR7UTIonLwtmzlXtfiRvvVdXKCf8YfoO4FJg/s400/toilet+sign.jpg" border="0" /></a>Wandering around Westminster? Bladder full to bursting? wobbly leg syndrome? Fear not these chaps have got it covered (providing you have a mobile that is) Just text 'Fuck me the piss is running down my legs' to 80097 and your phone turns into a Porta-potty!!!Davehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17147817797039125375noreply@blogger.com0