A Day Out In Whitby

It was a refreshing change to spend bank holiday Sunday in Whitby as opposed to sitting in Normanby like sardines in a tin. Everyone seems to come out of the woodwork on bank holiday. It's dire.

Whitby was relatively quiet considering. Here's some pictures....




hahaha, "It's not a bald spot, it's a solar panel for a sex machine" naturally upon seeing this i raced inside the shop, purchased one and then frantically tore out my hair so i could enjoy the joke immediately. I don't know how this shop survives. It's been selling the same shit for as long as i can remember.



This image manages to capture both ends of the spectrum. Beautiful scenery in the reflection and a tragic testament to human stupidity in the foreground.



The greatest example of anti marketing you're likely to see. Some horrible chip cunt. Far scarier than anything you'll encounter in the shit Craicula (Dracula) experience. While it's encouraging that he gives the chips the thumbs up, this is somewhat negated by the fact that he looks like he's having a stroke. Still i'd sooner get my chips from here than queue up for the Magpie. There's nothing worse than a smug Fish & Chip conneseuir.



Some shit mugs i was on about in an earlier post. Infuriating.



Our apartment in the morning. Trivial pursuit cards and Boggle peices everywhere. Between 4 of us we can't remember why.



Captain Cook & a seagull with no face.