Tag Archives: august bank holiday

Fluorescothugs suck bags

20110818 French handbag face 150x150 Fluorescothugs suck bags

Trying to organise things can suck bags.  Some people will ignore emails or texts and some many will be available on a given day.  I used to organise a lot of things but have taken a bit of a back seat in recent months (until about a week ago), as I have been so damned busy.

Can you believe it’s August already?  I’m looking out the window and it’s cold and dark.  When I was in Chippenham earlier I could smell autumn in the air and we haven’t even had the August bank holiday yet!  Remember the two weeks of summer we had back in April?  They were predicting a hot August and possible drought.  Fortunately I had a nice long weekend in southern France not too long ago.

Holidays

The holiday to southernFrancewas the last thing I co-organised and I am currently in the process of organising yet another holiday and some other little projects on the side.  Once everyone has replied to the respective “projects” I’m sure it will be great, but as I alluded to above it can be a pretty frustrating process.

The holiday in France (Montpellierand Béziers) was fantastic.  We went for a long weekend and had a great time absorbing some culture and swimming in theMediterranean Sea.  There were loads of topless women sunbathing on the beach.  I am quite proud of myself for actually swimming in theMediterranean Sea– the most polluted sea in the word (I believe), which I can now note down in my book of achievements.  All in all, it was a pretty awesome holiday.  Did I mention the topless women…?

The face in the bag

Whilst in MontpellierI spotted a handbag it in a shop window that appeared to have a face in it.  The shop was quite posh looking and was in Le Polygone shopping centre.  I didn’t particularly want to take a picture of a shop window, deterred by my bad experiences with “officials” in Britain (or as I call them fluorescothugs – give anyone a fluorescent jacket and they think they are God.)  My friend Liam took the picture for me and he had a superior camera on his phone anyway.  It was photography by proxy induced by fear.  I call it photophoboproxography.

Photography

As an avid photographer I was openly taking pictures at Cribbs Causeway a few years ago and was putting myself through awkward physical contortions to get a slightly better composition.  I call it yogatography.  It should have been clear to any imbecile that I was a jihadi – erm, sorry, a photographer.  Nonetheless I was approached by some thugs riding a converted golf buggy (too lazy to walk), which looked a bit like the Pope Mobile.  When asked what I was doing, I was tempted to reply, “It’s called photography.  Do you simple folk have that?  Look, it’s a magic little light box!  Woooo…”

I decided it wasn’t worth my breath and followed them into a little room around the back of the shopping centre to receive a severe beating – sorry, I mean a “permit”.  It was just some lame piece of paper that I could have knocked up myself but it made those sad small people happy for a split second.  Give anyone a fluorescent jacket and they think they are God.  Fluorescothugs.

On a lighter note, did I mention there were loads of topless women on the beach inFrance?

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