Category Archives: Rants

Being a statue is not a real job

I run past the London Eye a few times a week. In the summer there’s an avenue of people being statues between the Eye and Waterloo Bridge. Fair enough, some are quite believable and the kids seem to enjoy the surprise. The other day though I spotted a new one. A [...]

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What happened to the MaccyD cheeseburger?

Drunk last night I walked into the MaccyD’s on Oxford St for my regulation two cheeseburgers only to find out that the Oxford St MaccyD’s wouldn’t sell them to me, they only do value meals. What the hell is going on? Still drunk, I politely declined a huge meal and wandered instead into [...]

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Tube lies

Explain this to me. I’m stuck on the Victoria Line because of signal failure at Oxford Circus this morning. When I eventually reach my destination at Victoria the automated annoucement kicks in and tells me that there is ‘a good service on all lines’. Firstly, is the communication in Underground so bad [...]

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Morbid memorials

I can’t help but wonder as to the new craze of creating make shift shrines to lost loved ones at the site of accidents. I can fully sympathise with the grief and loss felt at the death of a loved one, but to create a shrine at the site of the death seems to [...]

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The new religion

St. Martin’s in the Fields, the church on Trafalgar Square is undergoing some major works. This morning whilst cycling to work I was surprised to see an enormous advertising hording on the scaffolding of the church. The hording is angled to be clearly visible to everyone in Trafalgar Square and has the new [...]

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Learning not to flinch

Since the start of the free newspaper boom in London I’ve become completely immune to people thrusting things at me on the streets. I’m starting to think this could be a serious problem. Normally when someone thrusts something at me, I recoil, but now I’m trained I walk on by with no reaction. [...]

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Wheelie bags and commuting

Wheelie bags and packed tube stations do not go together. Ask any commuter. We slide behind the body of another who crosses our path, very slick, very practised. If that punter is pulling a wheelie bag we don’t see it until the last moment and hopefully avoid it rather than going flying. [...]

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