Now I’ve never been to Ipswich (it’s on my list of places to see before I die…somewhere I’m sure) so I can’t say whether this is a reasonable thing to do or not.
Have you been to Ipswich? What is it like? Does it deserve this kind of shabby treatment?
Spotted by Mark Cousens
Shit Londoner Suzi Webb found this question being posed whilst out one day and says “I took this photo in Cheapside in December 2011. The sign was about three inches across, about 5 feet above the pavement, and there was nothing around it at all (Cheapside was being prettied-up at the time so not even the buses were going through). I think you’ll agree it says so much on so many levels.”
To me this note looks like a cry for help from someone, possibly an architect who’s lost faith in their wall building abilities.
There’s no big secret that all those people who makes thousands upon thousands of pounds on the stock market possess. They make it look like they studied economics, that they paid their dues by slogging their guts out in the city for years, but the actual fact is all that they did was answer a laminated ad stuck to a bicycle. Honestly, it’s been going on for years. It’s one of the great unspoken truths about the current economical situation that we’re in.
Spotted by Paul Coffa
Strip Club, Clerkenwell
Shit Londoner Mr PJ Crittenden selflessly sent in this alert to fans of sports and mammory glands alike saying…
“Here we have what I believe to be a strip joint – they call themselves “burlesque” but being acquainted, sometimes intimately, with burlesque performers, I think I know the difference. It’s on Farringdon Road, Finsbury.
PS. I refuse to call the area “Farringdon”. That is merely the name of the Underground station. Most of what people call Farringdon is not in either of the Wards which contain the name “Farringdon”. Therefore this particular establishment is in Clerkenwell. Or possibly Finsbury. London is so confusing sometimes…”
Busker’s Sign, Liverpool Street
I like buskers, really I do. If you’ve lived in London for a long time you get to recognise some of them. There’s the guy that sits on Hungerford Bridge who tunelessly plucks the 3 strings his guitar has with an old biro. I always give him change but have never hung around long enough to find out whether his ramshackle playing style ever organises itself into something more conventionally recognisable as music. Then there’s the guy who performs alongside the king of Anthropomorphism amongst household appliances, Henry the Hoover, playing a saxophone.
This busker has created a sign thanking people in French, Spanish and then two other languages that he’s mysteriously covered up with a piece of Post-It note bearing the legend “Eurovoir” …which I’m assuming is some new pan-European way of saying goodbye.