Bucket Hat

Saw this old sort hanging around outside a newsagent. The shop wasn’t open and he waited around for about 20 minutes, not doing very much other than blinking, looking around and staring at me. Then he wandered off. What a story. I bet you can’t wait for the next installment.

George Bernard P’shaw

Due the abnormally large size of my forehead, I am inclined to lean forward and furrow my brow. Humph

What’s this in the paper then?

Nothing! That’s what. Humph. Should have expected as much. Honestly, don’t know why I bother. News? This isn’t news, it’s just rubbish. Michael Jackson? What’s he got to do with anything? Why can’t they write about important things. I have half a mind to write to the editor. Probably can’t read. Humph.

Mysterious in Black

Collars turned up, cap peak pulled down over face, 3-day stubble. All very mysterious. Used to see a lot of this type of character in the late eighties and early nineties – men who look out at the world from behind the pages of the NME (or similar alternative/indie music press). Lots of frowning and introspection and peering through John-Lennon* spectactles.

*More recently sported by Harry Potter

Alcatraz

Emo-looking young lady reading about Alcatraz on the Northeren Line. I didn’t think anyone would be interested in something so old these days but then, I suppose that’s history for you.