Eavesdropping on the streets of London, Luton and Oxford again…
I got a lolly and an ice-cream and pizza!!!! (6 year old with a rising volume of excitement)
Ah man, my dad just bought a gold mine
So my friend, King George
She has a trust fund but she’s my best friend still
I thought, if you think I have any common feeling or resemblance with that woman, you really don’t know me at all
That sushi was nowhere near as refreshing as I’d expected. It was just so ricey.
Mummy, do you want my burnt potato?
“I think I’d just do what Mr Darcy did” “yeah, we had that conversation”
I mean how’s it’s going to work out? You’re married and he has a girlfriend.
Yes his jury service has been cancelled – I think they looked at his face and decided they didn’t like him.
He’s a bit of a tiger in the house, you know.
It’s a real pain – you have to bring your own bottle and you can’t get really trashed
We never really have a conversation – it’s just chat.
So my mate had done it before and said you really had to have a vegetable before leaving Sweden, so I got a taxi…
There was a strange rumour in Highbury of all the little Perry’s being seen with a slice of Mrs Weston’s wedding-cake in their hands: but Mr Woodhouse would never believe it. – “Emma”, Jane Austen
Not at all like Mr Woodhouse as I go to celebrate a friend’s wedding today, partly with a lot of cake.
The top picture is the wonderfully-titled “The Tempting Cake” by Albert Roosenboom.
Harriet’s father was called George Johnson. He had a shop. It was not a usual sort of shop, because what it sold was entirely dependent on what his brother William grew, shot, or caught…
One of the things that was most trying for the whole family was that what would not sell had to be eaten. This made a great deal of trouble because Uncle William had a large appetite and seldom sent more than one of any kind of fish or game…
“What is there for lunch today, Olivia?” George would ask, usually adding politely “Sure to be delicious.” Olivia would answer “There’s enough rabbit for two, there is a very small pike, there is a grouse, but I don’t know about that, it seems very, very old, as if it has been dead for a very long time, and there’s sauerkraut. I’m afraid everybody must eat cabbage of some sort, we’ve had over seven hundred from Uncle William this week, and it’s only Wednesday.”
White Boots by Noel Streatfield. I always like her humour.
“I’d like to show you my scar tonight, but I can’t get it out in public.”
“I think I’m going to have a parrot in my house?
A parrot. One that talks back to you.
“It could be an absolute disaster. It’s brilliant.” (In the same conversation)
“I might change; we’re going out V VIP tonight.”
“I’m not going to lie, he’s still got the ring and the child. He’s 20. He’s definitely dating though – it’s paying for his rent cos he’s got a touch.”
“Anyway, long story short, they bought a train ticket.”
“Anyone can drink that – it’s just like milkshake. It sits well on the stomach. And I was so sick, I threw up in the street outside and then I went in and hadn’t more.”
“And then it happened again, and we were at Warren Street AGAIN.”
“It was like you had to whisper a code word in a fridge or something.”
“He’s an idiot – he bet like a hundred grand on a horse or something. You can lose money that way.” (Yes, yes you can.)
“You’re being very selfish now making mummy eat the chocolate croissant when you know she doesn’t like chocolate.”
“No one expects the dog to get married.”
“You’re going to really enjoy that photo when you’re older.”
“… and then it turned out that he just wanted to move to a little town in the middle of nowhere and be a taxidermist.”
You’re bringing a strong turban game, but some doubter is giving you the side eye
you’re having the mother of all essay crises
The alarm clock is going and you just can’t get up
you pratfall and people just laugh and point
you be feeling the rain even though you’re a lion
you be a badass rap star even though you’re an angel too.
All photos Genoa 2018.
The illustrator Veronica Dearly has drawn her views of the constant creative struggle. Made this accountant chuckle with recognition…
When the morning stars all sang together and the sons of God shouted for joy.
(Actually from the Book of Job, so probably meaning something /about to get quite a bit grimmer. But eh…)
After accidentally booking a holiday in a place (Portland, Oregon) that is even more peak hipster than where I currently live, it seems I’ve done it again. This is the quarter of Istanbul where we were staying. ALL the rose gold / coppers…
Istanbul 2018, Nyks and Cafe Erol
Part of an ongoing series. There have been some crackers recently and the new season’s crop is in:
So my friend Jack has his friend Farid’s name on his foot, and for a while there was thing where if you had Farid’s name on you, he’d take your name too. So whilst Jack’s friends each have Farid’s on them, Farid has a LOT of names
“I’ve seen a lot of deaths, you know.”
“I believe you, scary man.”
“You don’t believe me, let me show you photos.”
“I believe you.”
“Let me show you photos.”
“Lets be clear, was it *a* vagina monologue you heard?”
(Woman) “Men like boobs, but I just think they’re gross.”
“I’ve written to the club apologising for my louche footwear and saying I wasn’t quite feeling myself last night.”
“And wherever I’ve been, I’ve never had scales. This is the first time I’ve had scales.” (Mental image of an urban dragon…)
“I just messaged her and said ‘watch yourself, I have far worse on you.’”
you flew once
over mount taranaki
on fanthams peak
before the snow fell
all over your city
and when they looked up
they thought they saw an angel
but it was just you on your way home
from the supermarket and your feet needed a rest