Wednesday, 18 March 2009

Mirage.

Finding things you thought you'd lost forever is better than sex. Or drugs.

Monday, 9 March 2009

The Lakes.

Beatrix Potter, Catherine Parr and Wordsworth all come from these hills. The jagged scars and rips in the landscape are about as wild a place as you can imagine, but somehow they seem too manicured. Not a stone or tree out of place. Apparently it used to be rougher and realer, but as the land stopped being worked so the tourists began to dictate.

Sunday, 1 March 2009

Silence.

At a time when people are losing their homes, 100 of the fuckers are lying stagnant just up the road.
But will they do them up? Doubtful.
Somewhere, someone else will be building new ones on a nice field or woodland. To solve the housing crisis we keep hearing so much about.

Want to start a squat anyone?