Category Archives: Scumbags

Thievery

Every time I walk past this bike stand, I recall the theft of our new bikes.

Unfortunately, at the time, I wasn’t aware that bike theft was a huge problem in Peterborough.

I’m consoling myself with a pint of Punk in the Draper’s Arms, while waiting for the Wortley Almshouses to open.

Collagen

Watching Dragon’s Den. Someone’s making gin with collagen.

I do love gin, but I don’t understand why anyone would want to drink such a beautiful thing with the inclusion of liquidised animal tissue.

Fucking disgusting.

The subways of Washington

A few years ago, I considered writing a book, a pictorial book, about the subways of Washington (T&W, not DC). I have lots of pictures of Washington subways, but I’m now actually considering an alternative publication; one based on shopping trolleys.

I’d run with the title: the Shopping Trolleys of Washington.

I’ve already begun work on illustrations.

More may follow, in advance of my book.

Unless, of course, I revert to the original subway concept.

Gyles Brandreth

I don’t often swear aloud, but there’s one person who’s annoyed me since the age of 14.

Gyles Brandreth.

He’s a fucker. A tory fucker. An annoying tory (no upper case T) fucker.

He’s been a fucker since I was 14. Perhaps earlier.

He irritates the fuck out of me. He once took part in a failed children’s TV show, Puzzle Party, which insulted my intelligence as a child (I fear for the welfare of younger children, particularly since there were only three channels At the time).

And, apart from his (annoying and misled) political life, he’s recently appeared as a regular on the One Show. One must ask why; does the BBC have the aim of irritating a large proportion of the UK/voters.

I may write a letter of complaint. I pay my TV license, after all.

Kids

The high level bridge is my most favourite bridge. Its restoration over a decade ago was remarkable, turning an old blackened monster into a thing of beauty. 

In recent years, though, grafitti has made something of a mess of the structure. Apparently, the estimated cost of a clean-up is around £40,000. Removing the mess would probably be a waste of time, however. The underlying cause would remain and the grafitti would doubtless return. Kids. 

It may have seemed cute in the beginning, but the addition of hundreds of locks has attracted lovesick teenagers. Who, in addition to leaving a token of their undying love, leave the names of their loved ones, friends and words of youthly wisdom. 

Personally, I’d remove them all and throw them into the Tyne. Along with any returning teenagers. 

As an aside, there’s an interesting trick of light in the first picture. I was alone on the bridge. 

The Queens Head

One of three old pubs in/off our street that’ closed since I moved to Gateshead, the Queens Head was, according to the planning application, to be converted into bedsits. We’d had some concerns that this could result in cut price rentals for local Lambrini drinkers (straight from the bottle, that is). 

However, our fears have now been allayed. 

Thievery

This very evening, a scumbag stole my wallet. In South Shields. My wallet contained around £200, and, obviously, some cards. 

My wallet, made from cork, was a gift, so I’m more bothered about that than the money. 

I’ve reported the cards as stolen, so at least they can’t be used. But, sadly, I’m a few quid missing. I shall never go to South Shields again. Ever. 

Fuckers. 

Dodgy character

While in my local public house yesterday evening, Being entertained by a group of rather good musicians, I noticed a tall man dressed in black. He sported a black fedora too, an unusual item in Gateshead. And it was his hat which caught my attention. 

I’d not seen him in several years, a decade perhaps. He regularly frequented my local with his partner, usually on a Friday or Saturday. They seemed to be a really close middle-aged couple. 

The last time I saw them (her), around eight or nine years ago, she spoke about the new car she’d bought him. The one he disappeared in. Along with the contents of her bank account. 

One probably shouldn’t trust a person you’ve met ‘on’ the internet.