Welcome To Birmingham, 1

I have some lovely pictures of Birmingham, I really do.

I also have some ghastly examples of this fine city. Starting with these...

Snapped on the way in to work recently, we see the work of a Thursday night pavement Picasso. As you can also see, the work is being inspected by representatives of the Pigeon Arts Trust to see if it can be saved or permanently displayed in the Tate Modern. 

I am impressed with the attention to detail of deliberately adding cigarette ends to the regurgitated lager and curry, as if to say "there was a third factor involved in this vomit...you need to appreciate the depth and other textures involved".

A triumph all round, for the artists, and the cleaners at Flares who let this stay on their steps overnight. 

Here is the sign which as of today was still on the Livery Street (car park) exit of Snow Hill station. I have deliberately left on the phone number, I dare you to phone up and ask what exactly a "Chef Highway Engineer" does. Out of shot is the detail saying "Completion January 2008".

Thanks to W.W Design for this clanger. I thought that this would be a one off, or it would be changed as soon as someone commented. But no, this has been re-used throughout the renovations of 'Paradise Place', a.k.a. that bit with the shops in under the library.

"Would like to apologies"? What? I admit that occasionally might spell a word incorrectly, but THIS IS A SIGN IN A PUBLIC PLACE. Who proofreads this? I can imagine the conversation, "Shall we check it for spelling Lance?" "Nah, they'll have done that upstairs." Whilst upstairs are thinking "Did we spell check that? Ah, bugger it. It'll be spotted."

Some one is being paid to produce this crap.

Grr.

Anyhow, many thanks to Sam Sparro for keeping me entertained whilst I write today, check out "Black and Gold". 

Something A Little Pretentious

Evening,

I have been taking time from running on the spot and eating apocolyptically minging out of date mackrel (more on that later) to look through some old photos. Here's one of me trying to look casual, refined and intelligent, whilst having a rucksack and what appears to be a XXXL rain jacket on. Outside Broadcasting House, in London. In (possibly) April 1998. Love that hair.

Minging Mackerel update: I thought I'd have a light dinner of smoked mackerel and some leafy salad. It seems that both were off. But not just off, but rank. Full on "Poo!" on opening rank.

They are now both in the bin, which combined with the other food I chucked out at the start of the diet is causing a spectacular pong.

That word again, "Poo".

CrapWatch

Ladies and Gentlemen of the Associated Press, please let it be known that a rear bowel movement droppage occurred just a few moments ago. All is well. There will be no futher statement.

Thank you

Weight Loss Diary

Afternoon,

For those of you that aren't aware, last year I did some beneficial weight loss for me and the lovely NSPCC. I lost 22 pounds of weight, and the NSPCC gained £603 in donations.

Little did I think I would need to do it again so soon. 

So, on May 1st I took a ceremonial hangover allied to an overstuffing of pizza onto the scales at work, where I weighed in at an alarming 93.1k.

Off I go again on a meat-and-alcohol-and-white bread free diet for a month. This time though I have the gym as a further tool/incentive.

The gym is great. It has already exposed my poor fitness and chronic deterioration in the swimming stakes, and advertised my puffing fat redness to many attractive ladies.

Fantastic.

On the plus side, I already feel lighter. On the negative side, I haven't had a 'sit down toilet' since before my weigh in. Stay tuned for "Crapwatch".

Living On My Own Again, Part 3

Further to the madness of the last post, some sense in the form of a link...

http://www.frieze.com/issue/article/obscure_objects_of_desire

Hmm.