Now this is not a scene where hobbits hop through Mirkwood (well sometimes) it was more like a whip of wind hurrying through trees and the faint sounds of crunching footsteps as they walk through a path of lifeless leaves.  Now these men were of no clan, more a singular fortress or army of one about to commit sexual genocide in this woodland, just here to get off and go home. Obviously when I discovered this way back in the day when I preached fanny to the masses and worshipped cock to myself I thought it was a wondrous thing,  a very carnal thing but also a social one. I made a few mates in the early days. A couple are still mates now, part of the old crew back from when clones looked like lumberjacks not androids. Sometimes after the club we would just hang out there laughing being so pissed I remember cruising a dog bin and even a fox once. It taught me to never judge a person by the meat that they hold, to learn from the old scene and always check for tights.  Now I have long since given up preaching in the woods. Nowadays I prefer to walk them. But with so many stories to share, and share I will throughout these factual fables, you will always get that one fool, in this case below, A Mr Retroviral-Fast-food-Lube (names have been removed because I don’t know who it was). A man with no thought for everyone else who uses these spaces.  

So, this photographer’s day mostly begins with getting up at 4:50 (ten minutes turd time) then kettle on and into a very human morning of coffee, BBC news, Pog’s pills and looking for mysteries on the news feed. Today’s oddest being ‘We had to charge him!’ Feeling informed and ready to get on with the day I drop the hubby James off at work then – if not going to mum’s – it’s off to Devil’s Dyke for a walk with the Pog. Now Devil’s Dyke honestly is one of my favourite places in the world, full of beauty, a lovely drive and Pog adores it. We come here whenever the opportunity arises, but beauty is different things for different reasons. It’s also a haven for the odds, the sexual, the bizarre and the twats.  I really don’t care what people get up to here. As long as no-one gets hurt and you’re considerate then knock yourself out have a blast. Just please stop leaving all your crap up here. It’s fucking disrespectful and ruins it for everyone else. And Pog really doesn’t want to sniff Mr retroviral-fast-food-lube shopping and l’m bored (as is James) of picking all your shit up. Whatever your escape is look after it always.