Anyway, I couldn’t find any of them anywhere. Maybe they’ve flown south? Thinking about it myself, although I’m not so sure Brighton is any better, and I can’t be arsed to fly further than that. Done the Channel before. It’s not nice, and ferries aren’t an option. David Walliams can vouch for that. Chips aside, they’re always a nightmare particularly this time of year.
So, seeing as The Bridge was dead with no-one about, I decided to hit The Park with Mart. I’d heard one of the swans on the ponds gave a wicked retort. Seeing as we’d gone all the way down there, I had to think of something. Mart accused Richmond of being boring last time. I wanted to prove him wrong.
Thankfully, I found a couple of brown geese giving it large to one of them.
I only hoped it was the right one. It was. Phew:
And, I tell you, it didn’t disappoint.
Geese go, “Oi, Whiteee!” Shame they couldn’t think of anything more interesting to say, but there you go. That’s geese for you.
For a bit of context, normally swans tend to ignore the jibes from other birds. They’re used to it (‘Queen Lovers’ and all that – the monarch that is, not the band).
This time though, instead if his normal ‘float-on-by kind’ of attitude, he right shed his feathers, and lost it:
‘What did you say? Geese? Sorry, ‘Brown’ geese… What did you say?’
The fact he had a posh accent made it worse. Geese were totally taken aback.
‘Er, nothing. Quick, Jerry. Out of the water!’
‘Shit, Jerry. Leg it!’
Mental. Geese shat it, literally.
But then, the best bit.
Swan starts swimming off, gets round the corner, and laughs his head off:
Only turns out he was taking the piss. Totally unlike a swan to take the piss, but there he was, absolutely ripping it.
Got round the corner:
Geese were left standing, looking somewhat embarrassed.
After I took this one:
They shuffled off, backwards.
Not surprised, particularly after one of them realised the whole sorry debacle had been caught on camera.
Even Mart now agrees Richmond has its plus points.
Sarcastic swans. Unheard of.
Changing the subject, I can’t believe it’s 2010. Jesus. I would say ‘time flies’, but I’m never one for chucking in the random bird jokes, although I do appreciate it when you send them. Maybe it’s because I can never remember the punchlines?
So – totally big up to one happy decade for the lot of you.
Bri P (and Mart, and everyone else who has agreed to appear in this blog. Happy?)
This has got to be one of the most pointless pigeons vids I have ever seen.
It’s so dull, it’s actually quite funny.
Check it out:
Can’t quite believe Christmas has been and gone again, already. I should add that I tried to post this yesterday, but gave up in the end after the Internet went to shit. Way too slow for my liking, and it was starting to interrupt my day in a big way. Had a right good one in the end. Found us some giblets and everything, and a mince pie crust with a few bits of mince still attached. Nice.
Weather wise, it’s all back to normal after the madness of last week. Jesus. Thought the next ice age was kicking in, big time. However, unlike the last snow dump back in Feb, this time I’ll have to provide a news story link rather than pics. Frankly, I couldn’t be arsed to go out in it. Tucked myself nicely under Richmond Bridge, and went to sleep for a few days. Don’t ask me how I ended up in Richmond. No fucking idea but, having woken up there, I figured I might as well hang around. Basically, all I did was fly about a bit by the river, stuff my face, and go back to sleep again. Pigeons have got it good in Richmond, and they know it. Mart joined me for a couple of days, but got bored and flew back.
I promised him I’d be home for Christmas day, so I was. Nice easy wintery fly, and back in the Soho thick of it, although it’s not really that ‘thick’ at all at Christmas. Pretty fucking dead as it goes, apart from the tourists. That’s all there are – tourists. Mind you, it’s great for Shit or Miss, and, incredibly, there’s a fair few don’t know about the feeding ban either.
The fact they can’t understand the signage is something I always find quite surprising:
“‘Hmmm, I wonder what this means – don’t grope a pigeons underbelly when it’s eating?”
Talking signage, this was me yesterday dropping a festive protest shit, for old time’s sake.
Happy Christmas, people.
(Thinking I might do a Christmas message at some point, bit like the Queen).
Can’t quite believe I missed this one.
Pigeon ping pong.
Who ever said pigeons weren’t versatile in the sports department?
Cheers for this one, Josh!
Ever struggled for that perfect gift? The one you know will be treasured all day? The one you’re sure will go to the top of the pile, and stay there?
Well, here it is – Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you the pigeon hankie:
Blow your nose on a pigeon why don’t you, and it’s only £4.25.
Buy one here. Oh no, you can’t. They’re temporarily out of stock. Kid you not.
Came across this today. Scariest shit I’ve seen in years.
Frankly, I’m not sure whoever made this isn’t a bigger freak than the lot of them put together.
What’s going on with the music? Fat Jesus.
Check it out:
Unlike me to bang on about the weather though it is, it really does suck this time. Never seen so much rain and wind. Bit like the end of the world, just it’s now. Gets dark after lunch and everything. Mental.
Decided we needed to go cheer ourselves up , so suggested a trip to Canton Chinese:
Usually a good day out, unlike today, which was a bit of a let down, to be honest, hence the lack of excitement above.
Canton’s normally a top spot for picking at a chow mein, providing you land on the right ledge that is. Jesus. Not such a good experience if you don’t. Al, second from the far right, is testament to that. Poor fuck didn’t sit right for hours.
Anyway, like I say, all somewhat of a non-starter in the end:
No-one had much to say, and those that did, didn’t say anything interesting.
Not much going in the noddle department either, so decided to fly home via Regent Street.
End the day on a high: