Robert Peel repealed the Corn Laws. Try saying that fast ten times.
This makes him the third best Peel ever, after John Peel and Emma Peel off the Avengers.They’re either tree branches or alien attack craft in a very low orbit. I can’t tell any more.OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAThis tree must have had a hard life.I assume it’s this pointy end that’s supposed to go into the ground?Reeds from the local duck pond. I say ‘from’. They’re still there, to the best of my knowledge. Reeds at the local duck pond might have been a better phrasing. Look, I’m tired, alright?Looks like it was a bridge at least, over what looked like a stream. At some point.
Seeing as there’s now no water to bridge, I suppose it just fell apart due to the crushing meaninglessness of its existence.
I feel your pain, ex-bridge.No, I don’t think I do have a problem. I could quit any time I like.It’s the BAE shipyard, home to the construction yards of them there Type 45 destroyers.
Taken from the carpark roof at Braehead shopping centre, other side of the river. I heart zoom lenses.Aaaaaarrrggh! It’s seen me!A graphic representation of the common manager-speak nonsense.I’m attempting to combine a fire station, a church and a garbage incinerator depot into one unholy hybrid. This is as close as I have managed so far.As I’m still jetlagged beyond belief and not feeling like wandering around getting soaked, again the furtherest I’m venturing is the living room, and the guitar contained therein.It’s a bit early for the trees in Queen’s Park to be doing a David Lean impersonation, I’d have though.Well, something has to keep the flag from flying away. In this case, it’s this ‘ere rope.
We salute you, rope.Really, buzzboy, you’re going to have to try harder than that.The spires of a church around the outskirts of Queen’s Park whose name escapes me at this moment.I went to see the very good sci-fi Sam Rockwell flick Moon last night. By the time it finished, technically at least, it was this morning, hence allowing me not to have lugged my camera and tripod around in vain.
Glasgow’s weird looking. It must have been on fire.“But that’s just a cork you’ve ran through a filter!”
I’M IN A HURRY, alright?What a terribly lazy tree. Stand the hell up!Standards of woodland clearing have clearly slipped of late.The dark heart of a chopped tree, exposed for all to see.The nice thing about having Queen’s Park more or less on your doorstep is, aside from having a reasonable choice of easily accessible photo targets, is that in some of the areas allowed to grow wild you can almost forget that you’re in the middle of the horrendous urban jungle that is Glasgow.
Although the denizens aren’t above trying to stamp their presence on the place, as evidenced by the spray paint on the tree trunk.The carnage wrought by the tree-chopping industry strikes in the heart of Queen’s Park, Glasgow.Frankly, I think I managed to get so many things wrong on this shot that they all cancelled out into something mildly interesting and abstract.I think I’m going to have to go somewhere higher up to take some pics. I’m growing tired of all of this brown water.Hahahaha! The postman knows not what he has done! With this terrible contraption I can… know if my camera is level or not.
That’s it. I am definitely cancelling my subscription to the Evil Genius’ Monthly Random Trap, Lure and Weapon Club. They’re not even trying anymore. All I wanted was a fricken laser.Not too long ago, visual stimulation of this magnitude would have been twice as potent as could be selected for a prime-time BBC sit-com.Some of the last mushrooms of the season, if its rotten friends are anything to go by.A shot of the greenhouse at Queen’s Park, taken through the railings because the damn place is never open when I’m not at work grumble mumble grumble.Ah! The Queen’s Park log fashion parade! The white plastic loglace is this season’s must have accessory for any dead tree.Whatever’s on the otherside of the rock is about to get a snake surprise.
Although apparently on the other side is my reflection. Apologies.Strike a pose, there’s nothing to it.Long day, huh?Well, it’s nearby.Another part of an ex-bridge, I think.SNAKE! SNAKE! ooooooh, it’s a snake.Soak up those rays, Sammy.Aaah, zoom lenses. Allowing cowards to take photos of wee stingy beasties without getting close enough to be stung.
We salute you, zoom lenses.The chilling aftermath of another horrible assault on a tree.Even engineering firms cannot halt the inexorable march of corrosion.Arrgh! An attack ent!It’s the BAE shipyard, home to the construction yards of them there Type 45 destroyers.
Taken from the carpark roof at Braehead shopping centre, other side of the river. I heart zoom lenses.Looking out over the dirty, dirty Clyde from nearby the Sherrif Court. Which I suppose I could have conveyed to you by geo-tagging, if I ever remember to turn the damn logger on before shooting.
I went outside. I am proud. Baby steps.Two things. Firstly, I have no idea why this fine example of children’s jewellery was abandoned on a Queen’s Park railing. Secondly, expect a powerful amount of fisheye images over the coming weeks.Here we see a baby balloon animal in its natural habitat, perhaps stalking prey or simply wondering what it will be folded and twisted into a rough representation of later in life.
We salute you, noble creature.Stop talking about butter, damnit.You absolute, utter tools. You’re a disgrace. Get back in the boot of the car.
