Pigeon Apprecation Day – The Fallout

For those of you who follow me on Twitter or Facebook, you’ll have gathered that yesterday was not a good day. Every pigeon in London was partying till the early hours in honour of Pigeon Appreciation Day on Wednesday, me included. What started out with a puddle of beer on The Square ended up at Battersea Power Station and a tin of something called ‘Tennants Super’. Jesus Christ. Twatted.

Woke up under a bin lid. Could hardly string a sentence. Those of us who could fly made it to Trafalgar Square in search of something to eat. It seemed like the only thing to do.

Found a cup cake. Result:

Not much to go round but better than nothing.

All Tom could manage was a bit of apple:

Needless to say it didn’t stay down for long.

Mart was so fucked he stayed where he was, under a piece of newspaper. By the afternoon I’d started to feel a bit better, but then the pissing rain came. Just when we thought summer might be back, no chance.

Found this lot from Camden eating some sick under a tree in Holborn. Reckoned it was all they could find:

Rough as.

Anyway, onwards and upwards. That’s it for another year, thank fuck.

Now it’s back to the London Pigeon Olympics where word is the northern teams are arriving next week.