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This happened a few years ago, but I recently found these photos and had to post it. A few mates and myself were at the Camden Crawl walking towards Koko. It’s a little tricky to work out what happened here from the photos but I shall try my best to describe.

Hanging out in a big wheel

Hanging out in a big wheel

One angry man with a passion for sandwiches

One angry man with a passion for sandwiches

We noticed a big wheel – with it being a music festival thought it was a piece of artwork/monument type thing – and decided to stand in it. We then decided to get some silly photos taken with us sat in the wheel.

Suddenly this bloke comes running over really angrily from nowhere (he’s the guy pictured in the grey shirt in the photo directly above) shouting ‘GET OFF MY SANDWICHES!!! THEY’RE MINE!!!’ We weren’t exactly sure if he was talking to us but we were then suddenly ushered out of the wheel so he could get his sandwiches – he did not find it funny.

This is someone who passionately likes a sandwich, but someone who leaves them in the most bizarre place – a giant wheel in Camden.

I promise I won't

I promise I won't

Now where would find a sign like this? Seriously where would you put a sign saying to lay off the hippies? I suppose a place where there are a lot of hippies around (to warrant the sign) but are also victimised because of their hippy nature?

Well, not really, it was on the door of the men’s toilets (it was not on the women’s toilets) of an old man’s pub in Brighton. Obviously the owner of this pub really felt there was a cause to fight for – the defending of hippies being teased.

Good job that sign was there to remind me, I had almost forgot. Silly me!

“He was spanking me and all I could think of was shopping lists.”

A friend of mine on her sex life.

I swear I can’t go more than 2 night bus journeys in a row without something wierd going on. I thought this journey was rather normal and was getting worried by this. I could feel something odd was just a stop or 2 away.

Low and behold a couple of stops later this bloke proved those suspicions right. On he came with a cabinet and some high heels. He couldn’t follow his friends upstairs with the cabinet so where does he have to sit? Right next to me.

A cabinet and some expensive shoes

A cabinet and some expensive shoes

He explained this was the 6th and final night bus he had been on that night because he couldn’t find his way home. So while he was getting lost he saw the cabinet and high heels somewhere and decided to take them on his journey. He was explaining he knew these shoes were expensive and in good condition.

At this point another bloke comes over and asks how much this guy wants for the high heels. I said let’s do an auction on the bus. As this went on and the supposed buyer couldn’t buy the high heels he became frustrated and promised to kick the cabinet stealer’s face in. I quote from this guy “who does he think he is coming on here with a cabinet?” It was then my stop and unfortunately had to leave the drama.


A thrilling read

A thrilling read

I was waiting in an airport lounge reading Michelle’s magazine when I saw this beauty of a headline. “Chantelle refused to give me a poo sample. What’s she got to hide?” with Gillian McKeith lying naked amongst fruit. Wrong on so many levels, but even more funny for me because Michelle squirms whenever she sees or hears the word ‘POO.’


I recently went to get my hair cut back where I used to live in Palmers Green. I have a wierd thing with hairdressers, only 3 salons have ever cut my hair and I just feel uncomfortable going to a new salon. That is why I go on a 3 hour round trip to get my hair done. Convient? No.

The one salon is a family friends from back home I’ve gone to my whole time in Worcester. The 2nd was in Oakwood, London near my halls and I only went in there once. I ended up having the worst hair cut of my life, but that wasn’t what put me off. This was a proper rude boy barbers I was to discover. During my 30 minutes in there I was offered, and no joke, illegal Batman and Star Wars merchandise, 2 A0 metal picture frames, t-shirts, cocaine and weed. I said no to all. All I wanted was a hair cut.

The third and current salon is in Palmers Green and this is where this post takes shape. I do miss the wierdos in Palmers Green, I really do, everyone is just too normal in Crouch End and sometimes that is not a good thing.

I got off the bus and crossed the road. I was in the middle of the main road when I heard someone shouting at me. It was a tramp asking me if I could give him some money. I replied “I am in the middle of crossing a main road and would like to get to the other side. No thank you.”

I entered the salon and waited my turn. I then got my hair washed before it was cut. There was a new woman washing the customer’s hair, she seemed like an illegal immigrant (possibly) and 50 years old. I question this, because she is 50, why is she just washing hair? To be fair she seemed nice enough. I layed back and she said i will alter the seat, she yanked it so far upwards as smooth as a rollercoaster.

I then noticed her bingo wings on her arms, and I really noticed them as they slapped my face not once, not twice but three times before she said sorry. Lovely. Around 10 minutes later while my hair was being cut, what song came on the radio in the salon? “Wind Beneath My Wings.” I found it almost impossible to stop laughing at the irony.

Now best of all between having my hair washed and hair cut, the sort of thing I seem to attract happened again. Another tramp came into the salon and I quote, “My nail is half coming off my finger could you cut it off?” The owner politely declined saying she can’t use hair scissors on nails for health and safety issues. He then left and everyone burst out laughing. I have to question why he didn’t go into one of the billion nail salons in Palmers Green (every 5th shop is a nail salon there, no really) or just didn’t pick it off if he was that desperate.

“Nev? Oh he’s always out, except when he can’t, he doesn’t come out.”

Tom on his friend Nev. I have never seen Nev, despite the fact he lives in London and Tom is one of my best mates who I see quite often.

“So basically he is like anyone else then Tom?”

My response.

I’m glad I have private medical health care these days and don’t have to rely on the NHS as much, it really has helped me out. This however was not the standard I expected.

This is what the money pays for

This is what the money pays for

I was going in for a second MRI scan recently, this time in a different hospital, so I thought I knew what to expect. That day it was tipping it down with rain. Firstly, slightly off the beaten track, the other patient waiting in the reception was called to see his doctor – his name…. Mr Thomas Thomas. This after the previous week I found out one of the other Doctors there was called Doctor Wonder!

Anyway my name was called and I was asked to go along to my scan and so I followed the doctor along the corridors until we walked through the back of the hospital kitchen and through the fire exit doors. I was a little confused.

We then went outside into the rain and up the slippy metal stairs to this mobile MRI scan unit. The patient before me who was in a wheelchair was still in there with 2 of her family/friends plus 2 more nurses as me and the doctor entered making that 7 people in a space really big enough for 2-3. It was cramped to say the least.

I was then given headphones, I thought to block out the sound and I entered the scan unit and everyone left the room. The nurse asked if I was ready to begin through the tannoy system and I said yes. What I didn’t expect was for radio to literally be blasted through my headphones at such a loud volume for the entire 30 minutes the scan took place. My ears were killing and I couldn’t do anything about it apart from stop the scan midway – I just felt doing this to complain they were playing Alexandra Burke through my headphones maybe wouldn’t have gone down well but I was certainly tempted to do so.

What a mess!

What a mess!

I took this photo after leaving Oceania nightclub in Brighton this summer. I have to admit I was in hysterics. It really does show the state of most people in that club.

My mum has recently informed my sister how our Great Auntie died. Now I never met her or my grandmother as they passed away before I was born. This is short story.

My Great Auntie died from being run over by a bus. Her niece / my grandmother was on that bus. Unbelievable!