“I think I can smell marijuana.”
said J. suddenly. “I'm shocked, I tell you, shocked.”
“Quite.”
I said. “This really doesn't seem like that kind of crowd.”
“I think I can smell marijuana.”
said J. suddenly. “I'm shocked, I tell you, shocked.”
“Quite.”
I said. “This really doesn't seem like that kind of crowd.”
Continue reading 'Notting Hill '08'
When I was in London recently, my photographer friend Max showed me round the Cross Bones graveyard in Southwark. The graveyard — which is on land now owned by Railtrack — was used as a burial site for people who, for one reason or another, were denied burial in hallowed ground. Foremost amongst these were the prostitutes who worked in the Southwark stews (brothels). The women were known as 'Winchester geese' because the land on which the brothels were built was owned by the Bishop of Winchester. There's a fine hypocrisy in the fact that the successive bishops were more than happy to collect rent from the brothels, even as they refused Christian burial to the women employed there.
Continue reading 'Cross Bones'