The Gook

George loaned me her hair.

I look like a bleedin gook.

Car Park Punch-Up

Down in the car park there’s a gang of feral Muscovy ducks.

They’re notoriously aggressive.

Suddenly a big fight flared up

Between a young male and head honcho Gobbler.

Gobbler was tearing ferociously into the Young Pretender.

Ripping bits of the poor kids wing out.

Gobbler was in for the kill.

The young drake fled for his life

Chased off by angry Gobbler and his zealous henchman.

The pecking order ruthlessly maintained.

Fozzies

In Newton Abbot.

I’ll have to go there next week for a bacon butty.

Even if it’s horrible.

The horribler the better.

New Age Pop

This is me being a bit arty fartsome

Found this can of “nourishment” near to Morrisons.

See – even supermarkets in Totnes have a New Age attitude.

(Is what I’m trying to imply)

The Town Omnibus

No, it’s not the No 59 going to Peckham. It’s the “special”.

It chugs from steam train to Abbey, then over the hill to drop the grockels into town for their perfunctory plod down the High Street.

They’ll probably end up having to go for tea and tea-cake in Buckfastleigh’s only cafe, the dreary Singing Kettle.

Then plop on the Londonless bus again and deposited to train station to be steam trained back to Totnes and Paignton.

Buckfastleigh’s attempt at tourism.

Onlooker on the Hoe

From behind this guy looked like somebody i might know.

Pony-tailed “Andy” from University days.

He stood on the Hoe, looking out to sea, smoking – with that self-possessed onlooker look about him that Andy often had; like he was spectating life (and you included) – from afar – with cool and solitary detachment.

I was taking pics of the ferry moving out to Roscoff.

This guy kept glancing across to me to see where i was pointing the digi – and whether i was pointing it at him.

He gazed back out to sea, puffing away.

Eventually, smoking – and looking – done, he trudged off.

I “snapped” him just as he was disappearing (around Smeaton’s Tower)

Walking his lonely off to somewhere else.

Germans in the rain

Gang of Germans in the rain, getting wet.

Standing around getting the tour guide version of the Hoe.

Looking stoutly, boringly, typically German.

They beat Portugal yesterday.

It carried on raining the whole afternoon.

Blew all their umbrellas into the sea.

Let me slap your face

Fred Amery is in court for slapping women across the face.

He walked up to a Mrs Maunder at Littlehempston train station, slapped her, then walked off as tho nothing had happened.

Her face reddened and her ears started ringing.

It is one of the things he does (apparently, cus he’s done it before)

“Get out of the way, woman!”

He’s 73, from Lustleigh.

He ought to be sent to a Dominatrix. To be face-slapped and bottom-spanked, hard.

That’ll cure the fucked up old bastard.

Ducky Fluffs

Born last week. In our car park. 13 of the little fluffers.

Sweet ain’t they? Go on – go “awwww”!!!

4 have gone missing.

A nasty looking man was seen sneaking off clutching a cardboard box.

(On the way to Wing Wang’s Chinese takeaway)

I want to bring them all up here and stick them in the bath tub.