Shouting at Trucks, Swearing at Sheep

A few weeks ago, I happened to be down the Garden of England (Kent) and caught wind of an art show occurring across the South East, in the seaside town of Margate, involving my good friend S Mark Gubb and a couple of wrong'uns...Hopping on me bike and braving the tail-end of the nuclear winter that the UK has been enduring, I peddled over to have a good glegg...


appeasement to the gods of punctures & rain


more offerings along the wayside from fellow pilgrims.






whilst taking these snaps, a white van pulled up and two jolly gypsy fellas inside shouted "Alright mate, want some work?"
I said that I did, but was currently on my way to Margate, which was met with all round bemusement.
"What, on that?" the more forward of the two said, gesturing towards my pushbike, "Yep" I replied.
"Bollocks mate! Cheerio" they called, and sped off, splashing more water onto the weird, hanging icicle stalagmites.








Paul the skinhead, Margate.


Dreamland






apparently, Margate has the highest ratio of boarded-up shops to functioning ones in the UK.
(My main ode Tommy Robinson has some fine snaps of Margate here)


ta-da! Mark & show...good work gents