Have you seen this horrendous typo from the High St Brixton Blog posted!? Amazed the shop got it back from the printers and actually used it!!!
https://pbs.twimg.com/media/BSQe0m8IEAEjLzP.jpg:large
Ermahgerd, BirxtonHave you seen this horrendous typo from the High St Brixton Blog posted!? Amazed the shop got it back from the printers and actually used it!!!
https://pbs.twimg.com/media/BSQe0m8IEAEjLzP.jpg:large
Have you seen this horrendous typo from the High St Brixton Blog posted!? Amazed the shop got it back from the printers and actually used it!!!
https://pbs.twimg.com/media/BSQe0m8IEAEjLzP.jpg:large
Im gonna be at the housing activist meeting this evening, if anyone is going? we will be leafleting/postering for Saturdays 'sleep out' against the bedroom tax afterwards....
I will be there.
You look like a cool kind of freeloading Brixton guy
Fuck knows. The guy was a coked-up cunt.what does that even mean? 'freeloading'?
Or maybe freemasons. Or freebase. Or freezers. Who knows.Maybe he meant freewheeling?
Was this under the arches then?Or maybe freemasons. Or freebase. Or freezers. Who knows.
He sounds like a Chris Morris parody. "Jamaicans" LOL. Beyond satire, some of these typesI got Nu-Brixton in both barrels tonight.
I was in a certain late night bar/club where this over-confident, coked-up-to-the-max, middle-class late 20s guy in a smart city suit started chatting to me in the toilet.
"You look like a cool kind of freeloading Brixton guy" was his opening insight.
I've no idea what that even means, but things only got worse as he attempted to befriend me in that over-friendly, personal-space-unaware, empathy-stripped way that cokeheads do.
He then followed me up to the bar and went on to tell me about how he loves Brixton since moving here a year ago - Tooting wasn't edgy/lively/party-full enough for him - and how "the Jamaican dealers" on his road have got to recognise him and give him a respectful nod as he comes home from work.
He doesn't mind them dealing on the street which I'm sure is a big relief to them (if they even exist).
A load of predictably semi-racist stereotypical drivel followed and I got so fucking annoyed at his inability to detect that I didn't give a flying fuck about his life or what he thinks of Brixton that I decided to go home.
(((Brixton)))
I would have taken it as a (perhaps unconscious) insult, either that he really meant 'freeloading' as in shirker not a worker, poncing off of mates; or 'freebasing' as in coke abuse. "You look like a cool sort of ponce/crackhead." On the other hand, maybe either are terms of approval in these peoples' worldMaybe he meant freewheeling?
This little chappy was wandering around Rush Common (opposite George Tesco IV) this afternoon. I'm guessing he's wandered out of the Park (unless an individual owns him/her)View attachment 39575
I saw him there last night about 7pm
I did think about ringing one of the Park wardens to let them know but then I forgot
Hope nobody's cooked him
Intrigued by the woman who regularly goes for a run across the top of Brockwell park without the usual running gear, wearing a dress or similar.
there's also a guy who wears regular clothes in the Brockwell parkruns on Saturdays
there's also a guy who wears regular clothes in the Brockwell parkruns on Saturdays
And leather work shoes and a floppy hat. Class.
Do you do Park Run? It's such a great idea.
I don't manage it very often but was there last weekend - scored my record slowest time. Hangover related.
I intend to go every week but 9am on a Saturday is just not running time.And leather work shoes and a floppy hat. Class.
Do you do Park Run? It's such a great idea.
I don't manage it very often but was there last weekend - scored my record slowest time. Hangover related.
I intend to go every week but 9am on a Saturday is just not running time.
I'm still amused/appalled by this...he's probably been telling his work colleagues about the "amazing local character" he met last nightI got Nu-Brixton in both barrels tonight.
I was in a certain late night bar/club where this over-confident, coked-up-to-the-max, middle-class late 20s guy in a smart city suit started chatting to me in the toilet.
"You look like a cool kind of freeloading Brixton guy" was his opening insight.
I've no idea what that even means, but things only got worse as he attempted to befriend me in that over-friendly, personal-space-unaware, empathy-stripped way that cokeheads do.
He then followed me up to the bar and went on to tell me about how he loves Brixton since moving here a year ago - Tooting wasn't edgy/lively/party-full enough for him - and how "the Jamaican dealers" on his road have got to recognise him and give him a respectful nod as he comes home from work.
He doesn't mind them dealing on the street which I'm sure is a big relief to them (if they even exist).
A load of predictably semi-racist stereotypical drivel followed and I got so fucking annoyed at his inability to detect that I didn't give a flying fuck about his life or what he thinks of Brixton that I decided to go home.
(((Brixton)))
And leather work shoes and a floppy hat. Class.
Do you do Park Run? It's such a great idea.
I don't manage it very often but was there last weekend - scored my record slowest time. Hangover related.
He's a star, sometimes he just runs off at the end and looks like he's going to catch the Thameslink to work.