You Reds!
| Sunday 26 November, 2006 |
China White's you ask? A bit of bling at Browns up town? Or keeping it local at Queen Anne's at Vauxhall as the jam jar is passed around and you deposit your grubby 50p pence inside before depositing one in the toilets after the 'stage show?'
 What happened to Terry Wilson? |
mrs obb was not best pleased:
'Sort it out you sad twat. You're entering middle age and you're still stuck in your youth.'
City Ground - oh mist rolling in from the Trent... came the witty reply.
She punished me by putting me on midnight Slug Duty, banished into the backyard to toss the fuckers over the garden wall before they take up home in our wine cellar.
And so Sunday morning came round (rather too soon); I had an impressive collection of empty beer bottles, happy memories of back in the day with the boys in The Trent End and a bangin' headache to match the one when some Spuz meathead lamped me I was crossing Trent Bridge some twenty years ago.
Sunday was sort of planned, albeit with the plans now put back a couple of hours. Sunday Service can wait for another week after my Saturday night praying at the altar of Brian.
A swim sorted me out. Brixton Rec is about to bloody close (again,) for something like the twentieth time this year. Something to do with 'essential repairs to the female changing facilities.'
The dirty little fuckers.
As payback, our lady friends have been temporarily housed with the men. Sadly not in a mixed sense, but a bit of plywood has been erected (etc) to screen off the Battle of the Sexes. Being Brixton and the first few peep holes have already appeared. I did take a look last week but it put me right off my asparagus.
Fifty lengths later and I was a new man. Bye bye mid-80's in the East Midlands, hello to a day in the saddle around the Smoke.
A few business dealings in town, and then I was free for some photography. Euston Square had been established as the location for The Way We See It this week.
I'm no fan of North London, but I do rather like the stretch from Fleet Street up Grays Inn Road and heading up towards Euston. It's an old work patch and I know most of the local pubs and parks.
With overcast weather, I had planned a bit of black and white photography. But even with bruising skies, there was still some colour to be found in NW1.
The short hop down Euston Road to King's Cross is finally starting to take shape. The new St Pancras is almost complete, although thankfully hidden away behind the Midland Grand Hotel in all its gothic splendor.
Failing light drew an end to the photography and it was time to cycle back down South. Yer Man Brian (my fave new Irish singer songwriter that I have met following an appearance at a private party to celebrate the 50th birthday of some bloke wearing a kilt) kept me entertained all the way back to The Oval.
And so Sunday wasn't the write off that it first threatened. A spot of moonlighting later in the evening and then we're back to Wembely Wembely.
Whatever happened to Terry Wilson anyway?
