Born To Be Wild

“Filthy Huns Breeding like rats in California and spreading east. Listen for the roar of the Harley’s. You will hear it in the distance like thunder. And then, wafting in on the breeze, will come the scent of dried blood and human grease … the noise will grow louder and they will appear, on the west horizon, eyes bugged and bloodshot, foam on the lips, chewing some rooty essence smuggled in from a foreign jungle … they will ravish your women, loot your liquor stores and humiliate your mayor on a bench on the village square …” (Hunter S. Thompson)

Photos -  © Paul Louis Archer 2011

Portraits – © Paul Louis Archer 2011

Weird neighbour update

Well, look here, what a surprise? The neighbour who only visits my flat when he’s steaming drunk and wants something, finally asked me for money. “Paul, can you do me a really-really big favour and lend me £2.50…” He was frantically gesticulating while pleading for money and doesn’t understand issues of personal space. I didn’t have any spare change, too bad for him.

He is now shouting out of his bedroom window at the Rag & Bone man; who rings a bell from a van and collects scrap metal from households. “F*~kin’ do one! Your f*~kin’ bells and bloody any old iron! Do one!” A sorry state of affairs.

I’m fond of the Rag & Bone man calling out “Any old iron!” while chiming a bell. It reminds me of Pygmalion, Disney’s My Fair Lady and the song called, “Who Will Buy” in the musical Oliver. My weird neighbour would disagree with my sentimental nature, because he doesn’t have £2.50 to buy high strength lager.

The eastern European bus driver

The eastern European bus driver resembled Yuri Gagarin, Alexander the Great and a Gucci model all rolled into one. His profile would not go amiss on a golden doubloon coin. Women must descend upon him like flies to shit. I feel distinctly the lesser mortal. I’m trying not to be jealous.

Michael Ondaatje — The English Patient

“There are betrayals in war that are childlike compared with our human betrayals during peace. The new lovers enter the habits of the other. Things are smashed, revealed in a new light. This is done with nervous or tender sentences, although the heart is an organ of fire.”

Michael Ondaatje — (The English Patient)

Racism is alive and well

I had the misfortune to eavesdrop on two men, who lamented Jim Davidson’s fall from grace. The Neanderthals loved his Chalky comedy routine.

I mistrust any man who doesn't...

I mistrust any man who doesn't have the wherewithal to trim his own finger nails.

My barber dug a hole for himself...

My barber is as mad as a bag of snakes, I think he must be suffering from senile dementia. He told me that Letchworth Garden City has absolutely nothing for sightseers and we should take a page out of Royston town's book. The barber said that Royston has beautiful caves that people can go down, which is a popular sightseeing attraction and draws many visitors and tourists into the town centre. The loon then proceeded to say, most seriously I might add, that Letchworth council should dig a very deep hole in the ground and build a car park around it. The council would then charge visitors and tourists to go down the hole. Is that not astoundingly stupid, or is my barber an entrepreneurial genius?

My once beloved, Home Bargains Superstore

My once beloved, Home Bargains Superstore. I walked the aisles today and witnessed the utter futility of vague consumer needs. A panicking customer said, "I must get crisps, there's hardly any left!" as I gazed at the 20 ft long aisle full of crisps. I suddenly felt that these customers and I were being administered the chance for possession via intravenous drip feed. We're being offered-up the heart of a sparrow, as super flyweight as the popcorn I wearily purchased at the till.

Whimsy, Eliza Doolittle, dried squid and alphabet spaghetti

I was listening to Eliza Doolittle, those annoyingly cheerful songs. Her album reminded me of a creep I shared a flat with as a student. He kept dried squid and alphabet spaghetti in his underwear draw. The draw stank of fish. I once caught him alone, singing naked karaoke in his bedroom, while admiring himself in front of a mirror. The song playing at full volume was Sinead O'Connor's version of "Nothing Compares to You". He was cheerful but creepy in a whimsical way, like Doolittle's songs. He once broke down the bathroom door, while I was taking a bath, because he wanted to relieve himself. He would love Eliza Doolittle. Such a spoilt and ghastly boy.

New Photography Website & Group Portraits

Please follow the link below to view my new website:

Paul Louis Archer Photography

© 2011 Paul Louis Archer Photography 

The Thaw

The rapid thaw among treetops, left droplets cascading from underneath boughs. Rows of trees gave the illusion that you could no longer seek shelter from rain under their canopy. For, it seemed to shower directly under the umbrella, while completely dry elsewhere. Would René Magritte have appreciated such a surreal sight?

Latest selection of photographs

Please find my latest selection of photographs. Please leave feedback, it's always welcome.

© 2011 Paul Louis Archer Photography

Fat Jesus & St Albans Cathedral

My dad and I visited the city of St Albans this morning. While taking breakfast in the Merchant Tea & Coffee Company, we overheard a loud and animated customer neighbouring our table. This character was a pensioner who had a distinct clump of hair growing from the tip of his nose. He was holding a conversation with two old women, when he aggravatingly took off his spectacles and began cleaning them. While wiping the spectacles he said, "Fat Jesus is determined to get snot on my glasses!". After this protestation, he turned to me and said, "I could kill God! He ruined my lovely Chinese meal! I could kill him! I was about to eat my Chinese meal, when I suddenly felt the urge to go to the loo. After going to the loo, I didn't want to eat my Chinese meal any more. I could kill God for that!" I tried to console him by saying, "Ah, that's Sod's law, better luck next time..."

Please find my photos taken today at St Albans Cathedral, "I could kill God! Fat Jesus!"

© 2011 Paul Louis Archer Photography

© 2011 Paul Louis Archer Photography