George, Harrow Road

I stopped off this morning to fuel my morbid curiosily for dead chickens, but George caught my eye.

London is just full of eccentric characters like him. Never a dull moment for a photographer.

Later on I paused for a mint tea and read of the Media Guardian in Zigfrid von Underbelly, which describes it'self as "art, rock von roll and industrial gastro". Not sure about the industrial gastro, which looked like pretty familar pub grub to me, but I was transfixed by Gates-Jobs family portrait hanging over the fireplace, accompanied by a sound track from the Red Hot Chilli Peppers.