Testing Times (A Sign Thereof)

Just wanted to confirm that, assessments and such at uni having ended for a few months, the near relentless stream of semi-regular drivel that is this blog has now resumed. Until my next bout of chronic laziness and time mismanagement, probably. But still.

As for the photo, a number of these went up around Falmouth about a month ago. No idea exactly what they're being tested for. But I think it's fairly safe to say of this one that, yep, it definitely is a sign*. I'm almost certain of it.


*To be fair, though, I think they figured that out eventually themselves**, seeing as the testing seems to have stopped now.

**Whoever was testing them, not the signs. This isn't LA Story. Believe me. I stood there for nearly an hour*** and it didn't once give me cryptic romantic advice.

***If you round up to the nearest fifty minutes.

Ha ha! Made you look!


Sorry. Couldn't resist.

There's no smoke without a story

There's a pub about a minute from where I live; 30 seconds away, if you could walk directly to it. Almost on my doorstep, really, I suppose. It's been all boarded up since... well, judging by a sign just up the road still inviting any passing time-travellers to watch World Cup 2006 there, probably sometime last summer.

I mention this pub for two reasons, the second of which will become clear. The first is that the place has always amused me. Like I said, it's been all boarded up since before I got here - not amusing in itself - what is amusing, though, is that if you happen to walk past it you'll also see written on a chalkboard outside (just about visible on the photo below, if you click on it) the words "Happy 18th Birthday Ross." I always wanted to take a photo and add the caption: Must have been a hell of a party.



Recently, the pub went up in flames (you can watch a video here). There was a fire engine, of course, plenty of smoke (blowing in the direction of my house), a small crowd - in other words, general noise and conspicuousness. More or less on my doorstep.

Not only was I not first on the scene, pen and reporter's pad in hand, I singularly failed to notice it had even happened. Well, not until a familiar building on the front of a local paper caught my eye a few days later.

So, erm, yep, local journalism. Probably not the ideal career for me...

Which is nice :)