As Alanis would say

Isn’t it ironic, don’t you think…

I spotted this news headline on the way into the office this morning – Boris: Let cyclists jump lights 

 

The next thing I noticed was this poor cyclist being given a ticket by a policeman… for jumping a light!   

 

Neither of them must be aware of the latest mayoral decree.  Surely there are more hard ass criminals the very industrious policeman could turn his attentions to, we are in London after all.

 

 

I Saw the Sign

Signs are quite useful and not just for the theme of an Ace of Base song.  Signs quite literally tell you where to go, they educate you, entertain you and signs in your life show you when you’re on the right or wrong track.  At a pub in Angel some of the signs started looking quite appealing, so I made a little photo documentary of signs that tickled my fancy on the way home.  I am also listening to the Ace of Base song whilst typing this – it’s good to have a soundtrack.  It only rates one listen though, it’s actually quite an annoying song.

So here is my journey home… first stop, downstairs by the coffee machine where you can arrange letters into a sentence.  I didn’t write this but I quite liked someone else’s sense of humour

Urban Poetry

Still downstairs and attracting a few odd looks for taking photos of signs there were two others that I quite liked.  One for the ladies loo which is always helpful and a pink neon light that looked kinda purty.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Then it was out into the streets of Angel, well we were probably closer to Highbury Islington but Angel sounds so much nicer.  If I lived in Highbury I’d say I lived in Angel because the word Angel has lovely connotations, what can we say about Highbury, not much really.

Street signs can be quite funny, as can pub signs.  Spot the theme.  Yes, I am slightly juvenile but both made me giggle.

 

 

 

 

I mean really, how embarrassing having to read your address out to someone.  All the time you’d get, sorry, what street name is it? Then some immature people (like me) would snigger and others would look at you measuringly trying to guage whether you were taking the piss or not.

And last but not least, a newspaper sign appealed to my inner sense of quirk.  I didn’t know the story behind it until Dan explained it to me.  I liked the scenario I had in my head more though, it was like a scene out of a Dr Seuss book and it involved custard being thrown at a clergyman.  Not that I would condone that, but in a slapstick kind of way it seems funnier.

Now the last sign will be Little Miss Sunshine signing off!

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