Greestone Terrace

I've decided to finish the week with a couple of blips from uphill Lincoln. Greestone Terrace / Stairs featured on my ghost walk of a few weeks ago so I thought I'd furnish you with its glory as well. Nice isn't it? All that brick masking what was I'm sure an important passageway many years ago.

The arch you see at the bottom is constructed from roman stone one side and Victorian brick the other. Tomorrow I shall blip the Roman side looking up rather than down. I suspect this side is Victorian judging by the slightly wonky streetlight design.

Last night was a good evening, City won 3-1 over Oxford. In truth it was a terrible game, but I was home in time for Shameless! I didn't catch up with Hobbs Nob at all as he is keeping a low profile, which shows he isn't as stupid as he looks! I'm not a violent man and I never have been.

I've also committed to producing a Lincoln City fanzine four times a year. I used to co-edit one called The Deranged Ferret, but now I am to run it singlehanded. It originally started in 1989 and ran for 18 years before folding in 2007. It's quite a responsibility, all I need to be is A: Funny and B: Lincoln City mad.

I think I have the second one covered, you guys are convincing me maybe the first is doable as well.

I've been growing my hair this week to see what it is like. I've shaved it since 2003, after a charity shave revealed how much time I could save washing my head with a flannel. Recently I've been wondering if 'racist thug' isn't such a hot look for me? I suspect it could scare all those potential Mrs Racist Thugs away.

Oh btw I'm not racist (or a thug actually. I'm a thinker and a philosophist, a lover and a gent). I may have no hair, the potential to produce a 'wild mad bastard' stare and strong beliefs but those beliefs do not include the persecution of people based on their nationality. It does include persecution of those who spend their lives pulling money off the state while they sit about in matching tracksuit tops and bottoms, smoking heroin and jacking off to babestation.

Has anyone ever encountered Babestation? Flicking through the channels a few nights ago I came across a station labelled 'Babestation' although the broadcast didn't contain anything close to a babe. It contained two ageing women with more ink on them than Samuel Pepys Diary in 'tasteful' areas like 'everywhere'. Neither were pretty, both looked like a fishmongers wife (after contracting leprosy and then being battered with a paving slab) and both seemed intent on pretending to be highly interested in the phone calls they were on. I imagine the tubby fifty something sweating profusely on the other end of the line aso enjoyed it. The girls were wearing ridiculous porn style clothing, the whole thing just seemed a massive in joke that I didn't get.

I kept watching to see if I could fathom out the punchline. I did in the end: the joke was on me. I'd missed the first half of Demolition Man.

I don't know why I was so gutted as I have it on DVD. Funny really how I watched it on TV despite owning the DVD, and still sat through the add breaks. Sometimes I can be a proper muppet.





As a quick edit I'd like to point out my bit about Babestation was intended for humour and nothing else. I do not usually watch cheap girls expose themselves on TV and I won't be tuning in for tonights episode where another heavily tattoed girl writhes about ridiculously to some generic dance music whilst talking to a sweaty pervert.