Last weekend I once again found myself in the home of Bassets allsorts, The DJ Katt show and Viz magazine (above). Bristol was my port of call. Interesting side note-
Al Collins used to be called Billy the Fish by his school peers, can't see why.
I stayed with Ciaran and watched
thunderbirds while he puked several times and the clouds urinated all over, yeah!
This was the wan spot we skated all weekend, pretty dank but we had fun and Owen even charged a migty mighty flipkick over a damp aul road gap, good man. I was setting up a tripod when this fella approached me very out of the blue and remarked "ah, you're filming too" "Sorry?" Then I seen a few guys with him, one dressed like Dick Tracey and another wielding a TV cam. "Yes, Bristol is twined with a city in Georgia, we're making a documentay on Bristol." I packed my stuff back up, they were quite an odd bunch. The camera man just started filming the guys without asking while Dick Tracey, sans tommy gun, would egg the guys on in
Georgian to land some tre' flizzaz. They left suddenly without a word, very bizzare dudes!
I continued my European food tour by getting stuck into a couple of meat pies and washin' em down with some hearty ales, get innnnn! (the keen eyed viewer will notice an apirition of the pie God in the reflection of the pie knife in the pie related pic above- hint, the one with the pie in it)
The taxi driver dropping me to the good ship aircoach on the way over had observed that the rain at the moment was "that aul wet stuff", indeed, so pub-jenga was the order of the day, above is
Mike, about to buckle.
The cerebral assasin playing devil eyed mind games to the top, c'mom Bray!
Paul "hardflip" Hopkins crumbling under the pressure of my mind bullets, rat-a-tat-tat!
Last weekend I once again found myself in the home of Bassets allsorts, The DJ Katt show and Viz magazine (above). Bristol was my port of call. Interesting side note- Al Collins used to be called Billy the Fish by his school peers, can't see why.
I stayed with Ciaran and watched thunderbirds while he puked several times and the clouds urinated all over, yeah!
This was the wan spot we skated all weekend, pretty dank but we had fun and Owen even charged a migty mighty flipkick over a damp aul road gap, good man. I was setting up a tripod when this fella approached me very out of the blue and remarked "ah, you're filming too" "Sorry?" Then I seen a few guys with him, one dressed like Dick Tracey and another wielding a TV cam. "Yes, Bristol is twined with a city in Georgia, we're making a documentay on Bristol." I packed my stuff back up, they were quite an odd bunch. The camera man just started filming the guys without asking while Dick Tracey, sans tommy gun, would egg the guys on in Georgian to land some tre' flizzaz. They left suddenly without a word, very bizzare dudes!
I continued my European food tour by getting stuck into a couple of meat pies and washin' em down with some hearty ales, get innnnn! (the keen eyed viewer will notice an apirition of the pie God in the reflection of the pie knife in the pie related pic above- hint, the one with the pie in it)
The taxi driver dropping me to the good ship aircoach on the way over had observed that the rain at the moment was "that aul wet stuff", indeed, so pub-jenga was the order of the day, above is Mike, about to buckle.
The cerebral assasin playing devil eyed mind games to the top, c'mom Bray!
Paul "hardflip" Hopkins crumbling under the pressure of my mind bullets, rat-a-tat-tat!
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