Think Before You Write a Sign

I have seen some very funny signs (the ones that hang up in shops and hostipals.............it's not a smelling mispake it's how I always smell HOSTIPAL!!!)

Whilst heading from my flat to the RM ..............I pass a down, through, the grind that is Queensway. There sits an Indian Restaurnt. This place states...................... "Take Aways Welcome.......containers supplied ................ ever try walking with curry dripping through your fingers!???????????

In South Kensington I pass a Newsagents where the shop sign proclaims........ "Newsagent we sell Newspapers!!!!!!"

In the Marsden there is a warning sign that states "There are Thieves working in this hospital -Lock up your valuables!!" This is bloody ridiculous! No wonder the NHS is in such a SHITE state!!!! I say "sack" all the thieves and employ more bloody nurses!

A Tale of Slease

Can you beleive it? There seems to be something dodgy going on around Old Brompton Road. Oh no!.....oh yes! There is a struggle being fought in the dark underbelly of the area. What you may ask? Well I will tell you and it is NOT pretty, how can house prices be so ridiculously high with a a small scale war being waged in South Kensington. It is a daily struggle, a constant battle, never ending. One side has the upper hand and then the other side takes control. One thing is for certain during the 6 weeks I have been here neither side has scored a total victory. So what is this epic struggle? Why do the forces for good constantly battle the the Dark Hoards in this area of London? Is it the war against terror?........................Nope! Is it a gang releated "turf" war?............Nope! Is it organised crime...............not really. There are signs all over this neighborhood that state "Burgler beware the Police operate undercover in this area!" So is that the answer its an ongoing war between the "Old Bill" and "Burgler Bill Sykes"? Nope! This war is being waged in order to protect the moral fibre of the Kensington populous. What do they need protecting against you ask? Drug dealers?, Arms dealers?, Muggers? Crazy Junkies?, Un-paid flunkies? or Northern Monkies?No nothing so serious. This problem is as old as time. Certain "ladies of the night" advertise their wide ranging services on the inside walls of the 4 red phone boxes across from the Zetland Arms pub. Nothing major nothing overly explicit, just business cards....."Juicy Lucy-willing-and able" .................... "Naughty Nancy-is bound to please" .............."Madame Whiplash-your pain is my pleasure"................"Fat Alice- sweats a bit but otherwise hygenic and has a great personality!"The cards go up the council removes em!.....................the cards go up the council removes em!.............................. the cards go up the ...........yep the circle of slease........ the council removes em. It is funny how they are removed. A firm of contract cleaners blitz the phone boxes and the cards and stickers wind up on the floor. They are not taken away they now just blow around the street! Very handy for passing horny dwarves who look downwards as they walk.So how do these telephone advertisements get back onto the walls of these bright red London landmarks. I pondered this question many times. They cards are back sooooooooo quickly.I doubt that the actual "ladies of the night" place their buisiness cards themselves. They would draw too much attention to themselves. Imaginge Madame Whiplash sautering down Old Brompton Road whip in one hand two dog leads in the other. At the end of each lead is a sad submissive gimp on it's hands and knees with her business cards in it's mouth. I tried to visualise Naughty Nancy bound, gagged and trussed (like an oven ready chicken including stuffing!) She wouldn't be able to place her cards unless the handcuffs were removed! My final though was of "Fat Alice" waddling down the street with her lycra Mother Superior costume fit to burst!.No, one thing was for certain they did not place their own cards, it just wouldn't work. So that said, how do the cards get back in the phoneboxes so quickly? I had no idea. Then whilst having a pie and a pint in the Zetland Arms it all became apparant. I was sat facing the 4 telephone boxes when it happened, and boy was it fast. Blink and you would miss it.........................................................so who was doing it?...........................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................The cards were placed in the boxes by urchins! No not the prickly sea type creatures! No I mean street urchins (snotty, spotty, hoody wearing teenagers who should by rights be at school) There were about seven of em all bobbing and weaving, glancing this way and that. If it wasn't for all the "Bling" and Baseball Caps you would think that a troop of meercats were coming down the road! The majority stood guard keeping their eyes peeled for predators, Local Chinless, Contract Cleaners and the "Old Bill". Meanwhile 4 urchins hit the boxes. With fingers working like LSD crazed maggots the stickers are back up in a flash. The boss urchin/mongoose barks a command and they dissapear. The mystery solved I sat back and finished my pint.A week or so later whilst bringing Cara and Zak to see their Mum we saw the Urchins meet with a predator. Just by the Post Office two urchins were being searched after being arrested by the undercover police that operate in the area. Cara was so funny, I knew that she had seen the arrest as her pace increased and she looked anywhere but the action. She told me later that she thought it was a robbery and that she would be next! Bless! No Cara don't worry your pretty little head. The Posh folk of South Kensington don't do crime they have their own undercover police force to thwart the dreaded threat of Prossies Naughty Business Advertisements!

The Chinless Wonderland

My journey from the flat to the Marsden is "on paper" quite simple. Out of the flat turn right, up to the Bayswater Road turn right, right again down Queensway and into the Tube Station. Get the Circle Line ......Notting Hill Gate,............... Kensington High Street, ................ Gloucester Road..........and then I get off at South Kensington. As the robo-voice says as the Tube Train arrives....."The next station is South Kensington Change for the Piccadilly Line, alight for the Museums". So this is where I "alight" for the Royal Marsden. This is a different world compared to Bayswater......apart from the hoards of school children and tourists heading for the Museums after "alighting" there are Lots of suits, "foppish" hair styles, stick thin cloned blonde English "Debs", exspensive cars and money! The place reeks of it. We are, as David Attenborough would say " Here in South Kens this is the prime habitat of the "Kensington and Chelsea Chinless". A Lamborghini Showroom sits opposite the Tube. I have two fond memories of this showroom. Memory 1One monday morning as I arrived fresh from alighting......I watched a sad and sorry tale unfold........I had to stay and watch just out of morbid curiosity. Two fop haired chinless suits were moving on a homless old dosser from the entrance to the showroom. The poor old tramp was a little grumpy at being disturbed whilst he partook of his breakfast, yes this unexpected eviction had put him quite off his Carlesberg Special Brew! It was a noisy affair as the tramp swore at the two young men helping him off their premisies and into the doorway of a travel agents that was not yet open. I think his grime covered red sleeping bag in their doorway was clashing with the sleek lines and bright yellow paintwork of their newest Lamborguini Penis-Extention. Dosser breath does not exude wealth or affluence.....Hair lice and mad stares are not a good advertisement for the type of people who will pop into this establishment quite happt to part with £100K plus in order to roar off with their 200mph capable Libido Splint straight into the crawling London conjestion.Memory 2One rush hour a slightly chinless but very fop haired young Porche driver slowed down rather erratically, in order to view the latest Lamborghinis in the showroom. Obviousley the driver behind him was also admiring the "Italion Stallions" as he smashed his Bentley into the back of the Porche. They both jumped out of their respective vehicles and took a quick look at the damage, ran their hands through their "Hugh Grant" hairstyles, chatted, swaped buisiness cards and drove off or "orf" as they would pronounce it. Not a care in the world, mumsy would pay for the Porche and the other chaps daddy probably went to Eton with the CEO of Bentley, so one quick call and daddy would just get a new one for free!This place is a universe away from Bayswater.

The Bayswater Blues

Allo my Old Cock Sparrows .............Just got back from Mrs Migginns "Real East End Pie Shop" ..........Cor-Blimey Guvnor I tell ya......... I was "Hank Marvin" (Starvin) for some "Frank Boff" (Scoff) I had Pie and Mash, jellied eels and a pint of gin and all for a farthing! I tell ya Guv that was right royal grub that was Cor-lummy......fit for a Pearly King or Queen!For afters the choices are impetigo, rickets or your throat slit by a strange looking gentleman in a tall black hat! Can't be bad. Ere we are then London. Iv'e now been a "Cockney Sparrow" for all of five weeks!I am living in Bayswater, just of the Bayswater Road, 2 minutes from Hyde Park (More the Kensington Gardens end) It is a crazy 24/7 place, restaurants, pubs and wall to wall tacky tourist gift shops. I felt like I stuck out. As if everyone knew I was not from these parts.So I needed a plan to blend in and to become a "Grey Man" in my new alien environment.A Plan was devised............in order to allow myself to blend with the other 900,0000,000,000,000 or so Londoners in the vicinity of Queensway and Bayswater I dressed just like Dick-Van-Dyke in Mary Poppins, this included neckerchief,crazed smile, silly walk and thoroughly convincing Cockney accent. Did it work did it hell as like! Everytime I tried to coerce some passing "chimney Sweeps" into a song and dance routine they'd call the police!So I tried plan B. In order to blend into my new surroundings I would look innocent but also capable of looking after myself. A cross between Oliver Twist and Phil Mitchell. So shaven headed,bare footed, baggy shirted, wearing a dickension Cap, leather jacket and shooter I hung around the arches saying "Hello Bruv" to passers by. This did not help me to integrate myself with the locals but it did get some strange sexual offers from a couple of Merchant Bankers!Then it came to me ...........The only way to fit into Bayswater is to do the following.....1. Wear what ever you want, the more miss matched the better also drag a small suitcase on wheels behind you.2. Rush everywhere! Why take it easy when you can rush.3. Have your mobile in one hand and a lit cigarette in the other, wave both arms whilst talking very loudly.4. Never stay left on Tube Station stairwells.....nope.....always battle against the flow of people. Waving those arms and talking very loudly!5. Finally, and this is the most important! As you blow smoke into everybody's faces whislt deafening them with your voice you must speak any other language than English. Do NOT speaky da Englishy! Russian, Greek, African, German, Japanese, Urdu, Chinese, American, Welsh or Geordie will do. It seems like I am the only English speaker in Bayswater.As I do not speak fluent tourist, nor do I eat fast food, nor do I want a "Mind the Gap" teeshirt, I am destined to be an outcast amongst my fellow Bayswater migrants! for the rest of my days here in London!