My noo camera

One bloke taking a picture of Great Paul's Cathedral and another bloke taking a picture of a lift shaft. I shit you not.

My teddy from when I was a little boy. He looked after me then, so I'm looking after him now.

Great Paul's Cathedral reflected in that temple to mammon. That's right, the shopping centre. A comment on today's secular, consumer society? No. I was just pissing about.

Great Paul's Cathedral. Nice dome.

Today you unearth me lurking in the streets of old London town. Lurk, lurk. Like that.

But don't worry I haven't gone temporarily insane, terminally cretinous or, you know, turned into a big fucking idiot. No. I'm trying out my new camera. I had a terriffic hangover though so I didn't stay out long.

I'd been out to a leaving do the previous night you see. If the truth be known I felt pretty good when I got up but went rapidly downhill until I started to feel really ill. I had to go home before I sicked up on a tourist. I lay on the sofa but in the end I had to take myself to bed. Now, I know you will probably pooh pooh this theory but I didn't drink anymore than I normally do and I'd lined my stomach before I went out, so I'm putting this one down to a dodgy pint.

There is simply no other explanation for it. None. NONE!

I was drinking Heineken (known as Heinequeen for it's gay amount of alcohol) for heaven's sake. Fosters, is my usual quaffing beer of choice due to it's almost complete lack of alcohol. Indeed I sometimes think it is nothing more than light brown, fizzy, horse piss. It certainly tastes like that. And that is why it is known to all as "Foster's. The weakest of all lagers."

I rode home from the pub on my bicycle. I have resolved to fix the brakes. At the moment the application of either front or back brake has absolutely no effect on my velocity. They merely content themselves with making a reassuring, though misleading, braking noise.