I’m not speaking from any position of authority here when I say this but I am almost certain that this doll is cursed in some way. If it doesn’t have an actual curse on it I think we can all at least agree that is probably evil. Why? Well look at its face for starters, that and the fact it was found hanging about Highgate Woods. “No, that’s just what dolls looked like in the olden days” you might say. Fair enough, they did, but that still doesn’t stop them from looking evil. And think about it, have you ever, ever seen a single old black and white photograph of a child looking happy? Hmmm? No, you haven’t. Each photo that you’ve seen of an olden times child they always are wearing a slightly haunted expression, as if they have seen horror you can’t possibly imagine. Why? These kids are terrified of their own toys, they haven’t slept in weeks, they are plagued with nightmarish visions of waking up in the night to find tiny, cold porcelain hands wrapped around their throats. You look into those eyes and you see a child full of fear, incomprehension and a longing for “Tickle me Elmo” to be invented.
Perhaps the most terrifying thing is that the doll appears to have written this poster itself!
Spotted by Liesal South
Shit Londoner Rachael Gore spotted this note outside on a bus stop outside of West Brompton station. At first glance this looks like a case of potential mole bothering that might have to be reported to the RSPCA but as you read on it becomes quite a sad peek into a man’s frustrated existence. He’s been dealt a rubbish hand in life, one that I can’t even begin to imagine dealing with and is admirably trying to make things better for himself. Maybe he’s exhausted all other avenues and through sheer desperation has chosen advertising on bus stops as his last resort. I really hope for his sakes that he ends up finding satisfaction quickly. On a cautionary note to him though I think it’s best to start off with one woman rather than to “give himself” to an entire group.
I should point out that Racheal said this note had disappeared the next day so there is chance that perhaps he had his wish fulfilled.
Let’s hope so.
* If you are a group of females having difficulty finding a man to have sex with please e-mail me and I’ll pass his number on.
Somewhere there is somebody kicking themselves over this. They probably got so wrapped up in the revitalising effect that a “50p mix and match” offer would have on their business that they completely forgot to include their address, what kind of shop they are or any of the other vital information that a shopper may need. I never usually read any leaflet I’m handed, who of us ever does? We could be missing tons of these kind of mistakes.
Handed to and thankfully examined by Tom Cullen
In a remarkable last act this sick pigeon somehow managed to manoeuvre himself onto this piece of roadside in what can only be interpreted as a cry for help. Sadly though it looks as if this Lassie, Flipper or Gentle Ben equivalent of the pigeon world’s efforts were in vain as it looks to have been ignored…and possibly reversed over.
Rest in peace sweet disease ridden, feathery prince
Spotted by Charlie Gee
I love pound shop, really I do. Their inherent cheapness affords me the opportunity to feel like a big shot for once in my tiny pathetic life. I can walk into one of these shops with a tenner in my pocket and know that anything within that store can be mine. I can buy things purely on the basis that they are funny or tacky and then give them to my permanently dismayed friends as gifts. I can buy products that I normally pay at least double for at the supermarket for only a pound and often with the addition of alluring foreign text which gives my bathroom cabinet and the cupboard under the sink a truly international flair that I’m disappointed to say most people don’t even notice. Sigh.
Sometimes these international versions of products throw up some bizarre phrasing or statements such as this bottle of Harpic. It’s a little hard to read but the first line on the bottle reads “Dissolves Limescale better than cocktails” which is frankly news to me. Why isn’t this information on British bottles of Harpic? I shudder to think about the amount of cash and time I’ve wasted not only mixing but futilely throwing Martinis, Mojitos and White Russians at my taps and plug holes in a vain attempt to shift some stubborn limescale.
Spotted by Suke Driver