Happy Thoughts :)

Original and ©Andrew.

f4e4a427e2a315c58d0fbe1bd7bb04d2Before I begin my little tale a question for you, is the dictionary definition for the word Hooker universally understood? If not then perhaps this explanation helps, 🙂 Typically a woman who engages in sexual activity for payment. 

However, before you whisper to yourself, “Jeeze, as well as watching his neighbour strip in her bedroom, he sees hookers as well? I’m finished with Andrew! 😛 “

Hold ON a minute! IMPORTANTLY THIS TALE HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH ME VISITING HOOKERS! I bumped into one that’s all. Ok are we clear?

Midway through writing a serious response post to a French lady living in England another true tale sifted into my mind, amazing how that happens, a remark or observation in turn prompts you to recall a memory you wished to be misplaced, simply because it’s too painful to dwell on. Or maybe a regrettable event you hoped would be forgotten forever!

Other times, and always when you least expect it, a remark a thought will prompt memories of an amusing true tale that you hoped and assumed you’d remember for the rest of you life, a heart warming personal experience that would make you smile when life is so darn boring and predictable that you truly need your spirits lifted. An incident, such as this tale, pricking my imagination into gear as I relived an anecdote that both impressed my work colleagues and literally had them belly laughing!

The day I was propositioned by a hooker.

Maybe not the most earth shattering News you’ve ever read but ask yourselves have you ever had a prostitute ask you for sex? No? Well I have so the tale’s worth telling again, though rather disturbingly the hooker in question seemed to instinctively recognise a possible paying client just by looking at him. ME!!

Hmm :/ , me thinks there’s visual qualities about myself that I’m unaware of?

However I didn’t avail myself of her services but she sure was an interesting story to tell the lads back at work later that day, and then there’s the question if I hadn’t been so naïve and slow on the uptake I may have followed her, because I’m an impulsive type of guy………….but I didn’t!

So have you ever been propositioned by a hooker? Or worse still been mistaken for one!

Several summer’s ago my employer instructed me to visit the City of London to go pick up 6 small bronze statues from a metal foundry located in ‘rich and trendy’ Chelsea, you’ll recognise the name, a home to wealthy footballers and Russian oligarchs.

A day trip in works time, paid by your employer, is known in the engineering industry as a jolly, all the more exciting because it’s simply a break from the daily grind of work with expenses and food paid for and best of all your colleagues envy you like hell. 😛

So come the morning in question I go to work as usual, I’m gifted a reasonable financial allowance, say my grinning goodbyes for the day and make for Oxford’s railway Station. Buying my ticket I board a London bound train for the hours journey into Paddington Station, a drab place I’ve visited many times throughout my life being as it’s the London link to the whole West of Great Britain. I’ve travelled through Paddington Station as far back as a small child summer holidaying with my Grandparents.

Anyways returning to my story, I join fellow commuters leaving the train carriage, again buy more tickets and make my way to the Underground tube station, I love the London Underground for the sheer atmosphere and history that near seeps from the Victorian décor. Coupled with the fact in many deep bore stations you find yourself standing on platforms which, 60 years previous, would have been populated by London’s citizens sleeping in rows of bunk-beds all sheltering from falling bombs dropped by Nazi heavy bombers. Then after the ok siren had been sounded they’d climb the hundreds of steps to the surface not knowing if they have a home to go to! These citizens rebuilt a Nation! 🙂

After a change I finally exited Sloane Square tube station walking out into the bright sunlight of a late summers morning, crowded with people as Capital cities always are especially London being populated by rude impersonal and not so happy looking faces rushing to wherever they have to go, so very different to sedate Oxford with it’s tourists and University students.

So I exit the tube station by turning right onto the pavement, and walking no more than ten paces I near bumped into a young woman blocking my path! She wasn’t begging for money in fact she looked fashionably dressed, slim my height, mid length straight blonde hair wearing a baggy black leather jacket and sheer black tights (not fishnet!) Denim skirt with a hem stopping midway upon her thighs and definitely not tooo short. As for footwear I cannot honestly remember if she wore heals or below the knee boots?

No matter, the point to my description is the lady didn’t appear like your average lol street hooker, not that I’m acquainted with any mind, but I’ve seen Julie Robert’s in Pretty Woman’ a God awful Movie, to comprehend what a prostitute looks like.

So I’m stopped in my tracks by this lady and remember I’m already feeling extremely disorientated, then with a smile she initiates a friendly conversation speaking with an, yes wait for it, East European accent which I’m straining to understand and I find myself answering questions with a “I’m visiting on a day trip”, “I have plenty of time”. In hindsight I now see the lady was playing a quizzing game and I can assure you in no way shape or form do I look like a policeman. 😀

Then quite bizarrely she starts throwing into our conversation quick fire questions like, “Have you money?”,

“Would you like to come with me?”, and only then with her final,

“I’ll suck!” did the ‘penny finally drop’ and I realised she was a hooker asking if I’d pay for sex!

So Andrew what did you do next? My short and sweet answer is I replied to the young lady a polite but stunned “No”, then I brushed past her and briskly went on my way. As you’d imagine I laughed thinking to myself ‘they’re going to love this story at work’ and they did!

My apologies if you’re disappointed by the ending to my tale, I guess an anti-climax (groan!!) But as I said at the beginning of this post, amusing events such as being propositioned by a hooker are worth remembering because they make you smile and often when you need one. 🙂

😀 And sitting here now I can just imagine her sighing to herself,

“Jeeze this guy’s slow on the uptake!” 

©Andrew

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Photographs and videos from a recent evening out.

Please bare with me on this post, this isn’t an essay debating the rights and wrongs of Boxing, this post is little more than sharing photographs and videos taken on a very recent evening out……………oh and with narration of course.

chica corona (5)‘All tits and ass’ ring card holding girl (right) but alas I didn’t photograph the ladies from my evening out, I forgot, :/ too busy lol looking at them. Btw if you hadn’t already guessed, they inform the male audience as to the round number they’re about to watch………………….. I’ll say NO more! 

😀 Notice how I omitted the word Boxing from my Title? Now hold on don’t run, I understand why sport and Boxing are unpopular, but you may wish to see my private photographs from the other evening. I enjoyed myself which is the point to earning money isn’t it, we earn to yes live but also to have fun. But important to me, whilst watching live boxing for the first time ever I sat there questioning whether striking another person in the name of sport is justifiable, also I questioned should the public really be enjoying the experience of watching two people fight which is morally unjustifiable?

So yes I did learn something about myself October 7th, I enjoyed the spectacle but I’m uncomfortable with calling physical violence Sport even though both opponents are in the ring of their own free will. But if you were to ask, I enjoyed the Boxing.

I‘ll add one final personal caveat, boys and girls boxing clubs exist up and down the land and ALWAYS in deprived cities and poverty stricken societies. You’ll not find a club in rural Oxfordshire, however in the East End of London you will, several!

Here’s an example of the type of area we’re talking of, one week after I watched the contest, in exactly the same area but metres from York Hall a girl was sexually assaulted on THREE separate occasions in the space of one hour, and by 6 different men the final assault being a rape. An awful place to live and an awful place for a child to grow up in. Boxing offers a way out!

Boxing clubs exists in deprived parts of cities where no one wishes to live and yet they have to, my justification is a Boxing club will teach children the disciplines of physical exercise, diet and looking after yourself and is that so bad? These kids have little education will not be going to college or University, they have zero prospects and I’m of the opinion these Clubs offer children camaraderie, an interest, a safe place to train meet friends, and be around adults who will teach them the difference between right from wrong. Yes they fight but they live in a big bad world.

Here endeth my lesson 🙂 .

I went to watch my heroine Chantelle Cameron Box, enjoyed myself and lol she is one tough woman yet a lovely personality with it, you might say the ideal girlfriend, pretty no doubt a great lay being so fit and all, and she’ll look after you when the s##t hits the fan! Chantelle won her fight in under 2 minutes, both girls left the ring in good health and one day she’ll retire from the sport a very rich woman…………………. hopefully. We both understand the dangers and yes 2 minutes was short but there were 8 other fights to watch.

11 photos I ‘snapped’ and in chronological order from her entering the hall to fighting in the ring.

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York Hall, in the East End of London

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Chantelle Cameron entering the Hall

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Chantelle ringside
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Chantelle climbing into the ring

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Seconds before the bell sounds
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The boxing contest commences

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Andrew 🙂

10 Downing Street a personal view (pt1)

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Andrew (left) and my brother Mark standing outside number 10 Downing Street, London.

Remember the days when a British ‘Bobby’ didn’t have to carry an automatic weapon, in 2017 he’ll have one hand tightly gripping a gun barrel and the other trigger finger ready!!!

At the time this photo was taken Mark and I were still quite young children and if you read ‘A happy childhood’ you’ll recall my father had little time off from his chosen employment, so in place of fixed holidays my mother would take us boys on day trips instead, don’t go all tearful on me, there were no week long holidays in theme Parks or overseas sandy beaches to build sand castles on (I’m joking) but that’s ok, isn’t a happy childhood all about life experiences just as much as expensive holidays in exotic Countries?

Usually travelling by train we’d visit places of interest often educational, other days the three of us would cycle Oxfordshire’s country lanes with a picnic for lunch, all lol very Enid Blyton………. perhaps Google her name the lady’s a famous writer of childhood fiction much criticised and frowned upon these days for political correctness reasons, unfairly in my opinion, I enjoyed the youngster’s scrapes and adventures in a picture book 1950’s England that never was.

I love the picture of Richard Nixon. 

Where was I? Yes, mum would take us on day trips to places of interest and this particular day we three travelled by train to London visiting attractions like Buckingham Palace, The Tower of London, incidentally the day that picture above was taken, us in our smart brown anoraks, London was a new adventure being our first time in such an historic City………..

……..and yes of course we two are standing in front of 10 Downing Street the iconic home of British Prime Minister’s with a Policeman always at the door.

I say iconic because whichever Country you come from you’ll recognise that shiny black door with white lettering, and American readers will be naming their five US Presidents all standing next to PMs of their day. They are of course Presidents Nixon, Reagan, Bush Senior, Bush Junior, Obama and not forgetting our own heroic Winston Churchill PM.

To think I’m standing exactly in the foot steps of probably the most powerful man of his time, Richard Nixon! Wow, even all these years later I find my discoloured fragile photo quite awe inspiring……………….. and certainly NOT photo shopped!!!

So there you are, yet ANOTHER treasured family photograph and for those of you who’ve read the odd family post of mine you’ll be aware I’ve shared many special snapshots, incidentally my most liked and commented posts.

HOWEVER times have changed, I visited London a few weeks ago knowing the City would look very different after the many recent atrocities 😦 threats of Islamic terrorism are the reason 10 Downing Street now resembles the fortress below, no longer would I be Free to wander up and stand in front of that iconic black door so my mum could take a family photograph, a UK citizen’s right now gone forever!

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Entrance to 10 Downing Street 2017

(To be continued)

© Andrew