Ok – so Mart fucked off a couple of days ago down to Cornwall on a photography holiday.
Today, he sends me this:
Fuck that – I’m off to join him!
Gonna head down the M4 first thing in the morning for some sun – now that summer’s finally arrived – eh? – sea, sand and… multos snackos touristos. Bring it on.
Back in a week!
Here’s something to keep you going. Ok, so it’s an anti-pigeon device – but it’s a fucking funny one.
Check out the Motion Activated Sprinkler.
Ok – that’s it – as of yesterday, there’s no more scran for the pigeon in Trafalgar Square.
Ken got away with it and, from now on, giving us lot any food whatsoever is illegal. Total outrage.
So – in memory of days gone by, I did a search and found a couple of pics of happier times on The Square:
(Thanks to Untold London)
(Thanks to Marcel Bolomet)
And, of course, there’s the time when I did my protest gathering, back in the day…
Tell you what though, Ken, don’t think for one minute your petty little byelaw’s gonna stop us from doing this…
Speaking on behalf of the pigeons of London – THIS IS WAR!
For starters, seeing as your number’s up next year, I’ve decided to get in touch with Boris. Offer him the pigeon’s vote in return for backing my Give Pigeons A Chance campaign. He may be a twat but, if he’s a pal to the pigeons, he’s a pal of mine and, from what I hear, he’s gonna need all the votes he can get. Bring it on.
Watch out, Ken, here we come!
“Heard this one, Kev – some dude called Mike…?”
“Yeah – Jesus – check the arse on that… anyway – this dude, Mike.”
“Flew all the way to the Isle of Man to check his mate Douglas.”
“Yeah – he only goes and lands in a house IN Douglas. Didn’t get to see THE Douglas. Just some house in a place CALLED ‘Douglas’! Twat! So they sent him back to Ireland, and he only comes back – like straight away! Fast as you like!”
“Why’d he wanna do that then?”
“Well… turns out his mate Douglas runs some kinda pigeon hooker house. Loads of top birds. All of ’em right up for it, apparently. Anyway – so they go and send Mike home – in a car! Mike gets stuffed in a car and sent packing! Didn’t even get a shag! Can you believe it, Kev? All that way and not even a sniff! Poor bastard! Kev… Kev…?”
“Yahoooo! Bring it on! Isle of Man – here… I… come…!”