Slightly weird though it is considering it’s almost October, but we appear to be having the summer we never had, if that’s possible. We’re talking hot hot hot. Bring it on.
This was us yesterday in Soho Square:
Even managed to score some coke. Check out the tinny on the left. Good times.
Then Nigel, the one in the middle, suggested we hit Covent Garden. He reckoned it was Pimm’s O’Clock at the Prince of Wales. Said he’d seen a sign when he flew past earlier on.
Not had me some Pimm’s all summer, so, all a bit buzzed up, off we went.
Only one slight snag, it didn’t actually say what time it started:
Waited there for hours. Nothing going whatsoever.
Swung by this morning seeing as today’s gonna be another hot one, and bumped into Nigel and Ron. Hilarious.
Been there all night, apparently:
A bunch of pigeons got hold of a camera and had a go at making a horror movie, apparently.
Not sure what it’s about, but whatever it is, it looks pretty fucking scary to me.
I’ve known it for a long time, but the pigeons in Richmond have got it good. The best, I reckon. Best of all worlds. Loads of parks and the River Thames, but near enough to mean a pissed fly home from Piccadilly is easy enough. Just follow the river to Wandsworth, then over Richmond Park and you’re there.
As you know, I’ve been to Richmond a few times recently, but this was the moment that made me think moving there permanently might be good idea…
Eating grass or anything hiding in it is often a last resort, so there had to be another reason.
Then we flew up the hill, and this was the view:
That’s them in the middle.
Fuck me. Granted the sun was shining, but even I’d chew on grass if that’s what I was looking at.
Then, top it all, we saw some of them do the ‘Circle of Happiness’:
Not seen that for a very long time. A proper full Circle of Happiness. I was going to join in myself but wasn’t in the best of moods and didn’t want to spoil it for the rest of them.
Countryside aside, another big plus of Richmond is its nearness to the Big Bird’s Club on Ham Common. It’s near, but not too near. I wouldn’t want to live that close to it anyway. Temptation and all that.
So, here’s the dilemma:
Do I or don’t I move to Richmond permanently? Would I miss Soho? Would I miss Mare Street? Would I miss the bagels..? I’d need to do a serious ledge recce first, and I guess Mart will have to come with me. Not sure he’d want to stay on Beak Street on his own.
Anyway, there’s plenty of time. It’s not like we have to give anyone notice or anything, although would like to hand it over to a pal I liked. It is a great ledge after all.
Kid you not:
Pigeons of NY, if you’re out and about today, go hunt her down and shit in her hot dog.
Yesterday, word was David Walliams was going to swim through Richmond, so we thought we’d go and support him seeing as he’s done pretty well with the swim so far, especially considering the state of the Thames.
Anyway, load of us turned up, and waited:
Jesus. We were there for fucking hours with no sign whatsoever of Walliams.
Gave up in the end and came home.
He went through there this morning, apparently. Hoping to catch him round Westminster way a bit later providing the hurricane dies down a bit.
Finally, it stopped pissing it down, so Mart and me decided to go check out the Big Bird’s Club on Ham Common. See if anything was going down.
The answer: Absolutely nothing at all.
Just a load of security geese and a couple of door ducks hanging about:
Turns out it was a swans only day. ‘Ladeez get in free’, apparently, that’s if any of them had bothered to turn up.
This sad fuck got so desperate he started chasing after anything that moved.
He was the only swan there:
Think he got thrown out not long after I took this. Hardly surprising.
Mart tried giving it large to get us in.
Goes right up to one of the geezers. “Go on, mate. There’s only two of us…”
“I don’t think so, pal. Do you look like a fucking swan?”
So Mart gets his leg in the air:
“I can try…”
I stepped in at that point and told him a leg cock does not a swan make, so he suggested bleaching might help. Jesus.
Big Bird all-bird do this weekend though. Bring it on, providing the weather behaves itself.
Finally, not only did the sun come out, but it was hot. Proper hot. So hot I got a mild sweat on under the right wing, but I didn’t mind. In fact, I loved it. Haven’t had one of those for a while.
Soon as we woke up, Mart wanted to find some ice cream, so we hit Piccadilly Circus. Not sure why I thought I’d find ice cream there. Needless to say, not an ice cream shaped spillage in sight. Bumped into Doug when we got there though. Not seen him for ages. Doug’s the pal of mine who fancies himself as a bit of a thespian. Said he was there trying out some ‘method preening’ with ‘some of the cast’.
Doug’s the one in the middle:
All a bit odd if you ask me.
He told me it was in preparation for their staging later this year of ‘One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest’. The preening scene is somewhere in the middle, apparently. Can’t wait for that one, not.
Here’s another two:
Eric (left) and Damian (right).
Eric’s up for the part of Nurse Ratched. Damian has already been confirmed as Mr Turkle. Despite only having a couple of scenes, he was clearly well into the run tbrough. Judging by the state of him he was probably just glad of a part.
Doug said he was hoping for the lead… He also said it wasn’t just about ‘striking the right pose’, it was ‘what went on behind the eyes’. Jesus.
Mart asked if he could be in it too, and then promptly demonstrated why that would be a bad idea:
Check him out on the right: “Look at me. I can do mad. Look. I’m mad, me…”
Tactfully, Doug said he’d ‘be in touch’.