Simon sent me this – cheers, Simon!
Scary shit. Comes from Hastings, apparently.
Then Rooo Roooo sent me this:
Food for thought…
And as for this Random London Fact Of The Week on Londonist…
Back by popular demand, and especially for Rooo Roooo:
A total and utter fucking no question about it freeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeak.
Frank got hold of this – an email from the STTSP:
“Dozens of pigeons, including young squabs (chicks), have spent a third day trapped without food or water in a deserted Nottingham building after a firm of architects placed netting over the broken windows the birds had been
using to access the buildings. An animal welfare group is now threatening to prosecute the firm if they fail to release the birds by noon tomorrow…”
Comes flying up to me, totally wetting himself. All up for a bit of on-the-spot reporting, he gets in touch with his pal, Rich. Rich lives above the Tropical Food Store in a place called Lenton, not far from Nottingham. They arrange to meet.
Bearing in mind Nottingham is a fuck of a long fly, and Frank’s not much of a flyer – fair play to him.
He sets off up the M1, gets to Nottingham, meets Rich in Market Square, and off they head.
First off, Frank forgets to take the address, so they fly around for hours, till they bump into Fat Annie, who points them in the right direction:
Fat Annie, pointing them in the right direction.
Finally, they get there…
Frank ‘on the front line’, taken by Rich.
Then they fly around for a bit… Nothing. Nada. Not a pigeon in sight. No pigeons anywhere. Totally empty.
Anyway, turns out Frank only read the first mail – and missed the update:
“Further to our recent email asking for your help to free dozens of pigeons trapped when contractors netted broken windows at a Nottingham building, we can tell you that the contractors returned to free the birds this morning -
ironically by breaking more windows!”
Good news for the pigeons, shit for Frank.
Anyway, turns out he had a top time and says ‘Nottingham rocks’.
Must go there sometime. Not.
Mart came up with an idea he wants to do on Pigeon Blog. It’s called ‘Mart’s Random Photos’. It’s a series of random photos, taken by Mart.
Here’s the first one:
A hippo’s arse.
Ok – enough of the Zoo action. The sun’s out, big style. Bring it on! Kinda like Summer, but in April – and we love it. Today was totally roasting. Me and Mart – out and about urban stylee and, surprise surprise, just as Wills and Kate were knocking it on the head – pigeons everywhere were getting it on.
Loved this effort from Simon. Fair play.
Spotted a cutie in the park, and went for it – big time:
Simon: “Hey – cutie, you look kinda sexy. Doing anything later?”
Me: “Si, mate – reckon that’s a no…”
Not taking ‘no’ for an answer…
Simon: “Oi – cutie – hold up! Come back…”
Cutie: “I’m a bit busy, actually. Got a pedicure appointment…”
Me: “Jesus, Si – give it up, mate – check out the toenails!”
Cutie: “Look, please go away – I’m not up for it. It’s too hot. I know it’s only April…”
Simon: “Hot and sweaty, just the way I like it!”
Mart (frame right): “Si -mate, you’re making a tit of yourself.”
Finally, Si gives up.
Classic example of one he’d probably regret in the morning.
Nice try though.
What is it with shagging in the sunshine?
As the weather decided to stay sunny, me, Mart and some of the boys headed back to London Zoo at the weekend. Seeing as chocolate makes us puke, it’s the best way to spend Easter.
Suddenly, Mart spots ‘the perfect pad':
Mart: “Bri – reckon if I sit here long enough someone’ll chuck me a banana? Eh? Reckon they’ll think I’m a special Zoo Pigeon? Maybe one that’s come all the way from Birmingham?”
Me: “Not sure being from Birmingham is enough to make you a ‘special Zoo Pigeon'”
Mart: “Ok – how about Manchester?”
Then Lionel decides to move in:
Lionel: “Do you think it might be okay for me to live here too? Or maybe just stay over once in a while?”
Mart puts on his best cowboy accent, gives Lionel the evil, and goes: “Look, pal – this place just ‘aint big enough for the two of us. Now get your feathery arse off my roof before I blow it off.”
Then I point out his place could do with a bit of a face lift… unlike Stan’s:
Stan was well chuffed, unlike Mart, who was gutted.
‘A stunning and contemporary one bed apartment with its own private entrance. Situated in a peaceful rural location, this spectacular space benefits from wooden floors throughout and magnificent views of…’
…the world famous ‘happy monkey of London Zoo':
Mind you – probably forked out a fortune for his pad and suddenly it looks like a load of London pigeons are moving in next door. Tough shit, pal.
Then Mart spots the sign – pissed ourselves:
‘Where have all the birds gone?’
Hmmm – I wonder. Could it be the grumpy monkey fuck living next door?
Give me my Soho roofpad anyday. Not a monkey in sight!
This is what happened after we had lunch with Larry – see post below.
Frank was all up for doing another ‘Frank Report‘, so we sent him into the Ostrich cage. The biggest fuck off bird on the planet – and Frank was up for it. Bring it on.
This is Frank with the Ostrich, quietly shitting himself with us lot going: “Ostrich, Ostrich, show us your arse.”
Frank: “Hi (clears throat), my name is Frank, and I’m a pigeon… I’d like to ask you a few questions about what it’s like to be an Ostrich…”
Nothing. Totally ignored.
Jesus, Frank, not a good opener.
Nigel and Miranda went in for a bit of moral support, till the Ostrich turned round and went:
“Look, you patronising little cunt, I’m not an Ostrich, I’m a Common Rhea. But, let me tell you, there’s nothing ‘common’ about me. Nothing at all. I’m unique. A one off. The whole ‘common’ thing, it’s all made up. Get it?”
Then it just stomped off!
Frank: “And this is Frank reporting on the…”
“…err… should I say not so ‘common’ Rhea… (clears throat)”
Big up for Frank. Fair play.