Tutu. Harp. Wishful thinking.

What is it about tutu's?  I spotted this one in St Martins Lane this morning.

And Harps? I found this one in Notting Hill.

All that is needed now is someone to wear the tutu while playing the harp. That's not asking too much is it!

The bathroom of Elvis's death.

Walking past this window in Kensington Park Road a five year old boy said to me, without preamble, 'That is where Elvis Presley died'. I asked him why he thought that. He replied: 'People always put flowers where someone has died!'

There was also black loo paper (I'll go back and photograph that another day) present.

There we go then... Pretty conclusive evidence.

Westway Development Trust. HSBC and discrimination.

I received this by email from Westways Development Trust... It looks innocuous enough; a gallery show on the theme of disabilty, until you have a good look! One definition of disability in the blurb is 'Inability to pay' yet there is a submission fee for participating artists. OK! so it is not open to the disabled.  Then look again at who is sponsoring it: HSBC the multi squillion profit making bank who pay their directors obscene bonuses while shutting down vital community banking facilities because they say it is too expensive, ensuring that the handicapped need to travel further in order to find a bank. HSBC probably don't care because the handicapped don't have much money anyway.

Why do Westway need to charge an entry fee if the thing is sponsored by fatcats? Why is there not a concession for those financially handicapped? Is the entry fee refundable  should ones work not be accepted? How much money exactly is HSBC providing in return for this blatent advertising?

Who the hell advises these people and do they really think this is doing them any favours. And westway development trust need to decide exactly what role they play in the community... They seem concerned only with making a profit at the expense of local needs.  Discussion please.

Guaranteed next day delivery. A valentines day poem.

I killed my love on valentines day

I didn't chose the date

especially...    To kill my lover, my only and forever, my darling, my soul mate

It just happened that on valentines day

love simply turned to hate

If you could ask him he'd blame my husband

and the fact that I still drank from the marriage cup

even though I'd long left him

was well nisi'd up

But his mother was the problem

I knew he would never leave her

So I gave him a poisoned chocolate orange

then segmented him with a cleaver

Chopped him up then boxed him up

sent him to his mother

along with his valentine card

that assured me he loved me like no other.

I chopped him up and boxed him up

and sent him DHL

to his needy spiteful mother

in her surburban hell
but they took a week to deliver him
and were alerted by the smell

that was my undoing

the disposal of my dear dead ex

I should have chopped him up and boxed him up

then sent him by FedEx.

Guaranteed next day delivery.

ENO Tales of Hoffmann at the Coliseum.

To the Coliseum last night along with the muse, Mister Pounce the barrister and his delightful squeeze; Wilhelmina for the dress rehearsal of the ENO production of  Jaques Offenbach's 'Tales of Hoffmann'.

What a delightful thing it was, beautifully designed and lit, plenty of humour, wonderful singing, plenty of dying women, student drinking songs and a gorilla....What more could you want.

Romance in Notting Hill.

Much better to be obese than a smoker as far as the government goes.

A guest blog from Jan Nieupjur. As usual his views are not necessarily my own.

        This is what the government and the supermarkets want to see.

I'm horrified. Supermarkets are now obliged to hide cigarettes from the public. Smokers finance the NHS, the armed forces bombing the fuck out of oil rich countries in order to pander to Uncle Sam and smokers finance the government. Why must fags be hidden when I can see fuck mags, gun mags, racist shit etc on clear sight for children.

What is the age you can buy cigarettes at? Address that.
Why are we poodling up, at great cost, to the Americans?
Why are supermarkets freely offering, in open view, buns, cakes, lard, donuts, crisps, more lard, sweets, sad bloke meals, all that shit at discounted prices to hordes of obese fuckers clogging up the aisles, the pavements, the hospitals and their arteries.

FACT: Smokers pay for the treatment of fatties and their revolting obesity. Smokers are the most generous people in the country. If ever an arse needed kissing it is a smokers arse and a smokers arse is a damn sight more kissable than a fucking great obese arse. I know I've kissed enough arses in my life.

It is a shame that Cameron won't step up and tax all his coke snorting buddies... There is the answer. That and disbanding the armed forces and using the spare guns to kill fat people.

Western civilisation is in decay; we are, metaphorically, obese, lying on chaises longue, eating grapes and buggering small boys while the rest of the planet suffers. Shame on us!





Editors note: Whoa there Jan. 

Jackie Kennedy nee Bouvier. What did she see in Aristotle Onassis?

Andy Warhol 1983. Albert Watson?

I found this print. It appears to be signed on the back by someone and is described as 'Unique Vintage printed by Albert Watson. 1983.

Who is Albert Watson?

Blue door. Portobello Road. Notting Hill. Bollocks!

In reality the 'blue door' in the film 'Notting Hill' no longer exists; it wasn't on Portobello road but on Westbourne Park Road and was sold long ago for an obscene amount of money. Yet the tourists continue to swarm down from Notting Hill Gate in search of the holy grail. I have picked up, from the street, written instructions from tour guides on how to find the door. Amazing! I shall be, from time to time, adding images of other blue doors in the area.

I've walked past this door on All Saints Road many, many times but only now have noticed the Number.

The owners of this one have rebuilt the wall, cut back the plant but thankfully left the door as it was.

Snow in Portobello. Loco at Retro the pope and Trellik tower..

It snowed on Saturday night but this did not deter the hardy crowd who turned up at LOCO. Including, it appeared, God's representative:

It appears that Rob Alder has seen the light. It was a great night. The full line up was, according to James Simmins, as follows: Delphi Newman and 7 Glorious Minutes (featuring Tino Troy), Phil Ram & The Great Outdoor Experience, Resident Poet Tristan Hazell, Roxanne & The Painkillers, The Freak Elite, Paul J Riley, OJ Jennings, Tim Gill, Conrad, Wills, The Dave, The Retro Virgins and Simon Billing's Jazz Trio!!! Rob Alder rocked the show!!! 

He went on to say:  Special thanks to everyone that braved the elements and supported the event!!! Next Saturday artists will include Chrystina Tomlin, Cuthbert 80 (AKA Darnell Ibraham) & George Frakes!

                                             Snow, not cocaine!

Trellik tower in an unusual light.

Always Never. A valentines day poem.

I met my love on Wormwood Scrubs

he was running for his life

'Hide me from the law' He says

and I'll take you for me wife.

Now, I'm a middle aged shy spinster

and I've never had a man

at this uncertain time of life

you've got to grab it where you can.

I put my coat about him

my hat upon his head

when the old bill came running up

'He went that way' . I said.

My first man was true to his word

his loyalty didn't falter

six weeks later in Turnham Green

he met me at the alter.

Standing there in the eyes of god

the union about to be blessed

up stepped a copper in a shiny suit

cuffed him... 'You're under arrest'.

I says to the copper 'You can't do this,

You're destroying our future lives'.

'He's got his life'. He says with a grin

'For the murder of his last three wives'.

I now visit my love in wormwood Scrubs

It is a love that will last forever

for when I ask the board about parole....

The reply is always never.

David Cameron and a mysterious death.

GUEST BLOG by Lachlan.


One day at school I had the pleasure of meeting David Cameron. It was weird because the temperature was 60 degrees Celsius and there was an atmosphere full of terror. There was a failure because one of our classmates died in a mysterious accident. People say that someone captured him and gave him the disease.