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