But now I'm back, and the first thing I found was a pound coin in the tray of a fruit machine.

Somewhere near Victoria.

So I popped it into the machine, and nothing for 2 spins, followed by a £5 payout.

In tokens. I didn't think they were legal anymore.

So I put them back and gambled my way up to a tenner.

Had a cheeky pie and a pint.

Then lost the rest.

The wind is beginning to blow over the water again.

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All this wind has blown all sorts of interesting things onto the bridge.

Found a nut without a bolt today near EC3V.

Interesting places to look for loose paper (of the folding variety), will be 3 Barrels walk, something to do with a fruiterer, and anyone playing near the Globe.

Moves hands another minute towards midnight.

Tick tock.

The page is hinted.

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Good places to look over the Christmas season are :

Waterloo Station.
Queen Victoria Street.

And of course, Grosvenor Street. All those shiny metal badges.

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Mighty pretty price too.

Wind has dropped again.

Snow later according to the Experts.

Met a girl last night who was looking for the American Dream. Looks like it's been stolen / illegaly exported somewhere.

The common people want a dream to look into.

Young Paul can sing for his fish supper methinks.

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Peculiar thing was you could probably have picked up the invite on the street, it was nothing more than a piece of coloured paper, printed on one-side.

We nipped in the back entrance, showed our coloured paper to the quiet thug on the gate and popped in for tea.

On the way out, a steward said to the chappie in front of me,

'Commander Bond is it ? '

To which the trebly striped officer replied,

' No, but it is Commander James '.

And then you realise, just how much effective security was probably in place. This is British. Subtle, often self-deprecating understatement.

We don't need to gesture with flash bombs, bullets and bullies.

Not Britain.

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I found a load of old coppers in the gutter in a street market. I asked a fairly young copper if I should hand them in -- but he thought I was stupid.

Benjamin Franklin:
' A penny saved is a penny earnt '

Actually he was wrong -- as you have to pay 20-40% tax on your earnings, but you keep 100% of your earnt penny.

Maybe Gordon Brown would like (not) to have the following :

' A pound saved is as good as £1.66 earnt (if you pay 40% tax) '

or

' A pound saved is as good as £1.33 earnt (if you pay 20% tax) '

So when you see an old Copper, don't laugh.

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At LHW, as I was about to be scanned at security, I noticed 50p lying on the floor.

For a laugh, I kicked it through the metal detector arch.

It didn't set off the alarm -- much to the alarm of the security guards!

Didn't pay for my flight though.

The only free flights these days are to Camp X-Ray in Cuba.

No cigar.h

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I'd already picked up a couple of cheeky pennies early on, when I came across a charming girl who was tinkling the ivories on an electric piano. She was playing some fiendishly tricky Frederic Chopin (Polonaise).

Attempting to sharpen my chat-up skills, she foolishly allowed me to have a go, and I was able to attempt the simple chop-sticks (rather than Chopin) that we were banned from playing at school.

Needless to say, no money was forthcoming.

However, as I passed an empty busking point in Covent Garden, I did pick up a couple of silver coins (5p and 10p) that a former artist had overlooked.

I did find some wonderful antique silver in the Covent Garden Market, a map, emblazoned upon a fossil, a piece of one of Concordes's engines, and a small car.

It's amazing what you can find if you keep your eyes open.

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I found (on Bond Street) a beautiful silver cufflink. Just one. So it's only valuable to the owner who lost it (get in touch, no questions asked!).

But such beauty. Deep black. Either Jet, or Obsidian. With ever so gentle vesicules running through it. Porphyritic perhaps.

Fit for the King of Chavs!

If no-one claims it, maybe I'll auction it off on ebay for charity.

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In perfect condition, on the steps of the Royal Exchange.

I know the homeless go around picking up fag-ends, but these were brand spanking-new davidoffs.

I also found half a Cohiba in Gresham street.

A massive thing, and managed to fill up my pouch with some rather high quality tobacco.

I shall dream of the fair maiden's thigh upon which the cigar was rolled as I puff my way through some rather fine roaches.

There's also suddenly a craze for leaving white electrical goods in the streets nearby. I found a cooker yesterday near the Angel, and almost immediately a white microwave on St Peter's street?

What could possibly happen next? Where is it all going?

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It reminded me of the wonderfully subversive Beastie Boys who championned nicking the metal badge.

VW had to change the design of the bonnet to make the badge non stealable.

Evolution at work.

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It all started in Chancery Lane tube, when I found 5p under one of the ticket machines.

So I decided to invest in an off-peak travel card (about £4.30 I think), and see how many stations I could cover.

The best was Leicester Square -- loads of ticket machines, and a total of 73p picked up from the concourse, although most from underneath the ticket machines -- I went back four times in all, finding about 20p each time -- this place seemed to magically renew the floor cash every hour...

Other good stations to look in :

Holborn : 19p -- Very small and busy, but this angry little station has a lot of newspaper vendors et al. outside, probably meaning lots of loose change bouncing around, and plenty of noise so folk don't notice.

Oxford Circus: 38p -- Massive, loads of different exits. But unfocussed, and too much 'pedestrian-scouring' to build up any decent amount of cash.

Tottenham Court Road 20p -- Two shiny 10p coins within 5 ft of each other. Very lucky methinks -- this station is way to busy and angry to get anything going here.

Warren Street : 7p (although did find 50p coin outside station (that doesn't count ) when I nipped out for some coffee).

Empty Stations : Euston,Kings Cross,St Pancras,Marelybone,Piccadilly Circus,Covent Garden

Totals :73+19+38+20+7

Tube Station Concourses: 73+19+38+20+7=1.57
Non-Concourse: 50

Grand Total : 2.07

This merits further research!

I bought some special tuna/chicken dinner for my cat. Hope Pussy likes it!

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A wall high enough so that normal folk cannot see what' up there, but Mr Whittington is thorough. No wall left unscoured, no nook or cranny avoided. Never knowingly undersnooped in fact.

And what was on the wall you ask? Papers. Papers belonging to some underground organisation. Papers that cannot be disseminated through the normal channels. But papers that inform their readers of where to go, when to go, and what to say to enter in the hallowed halls of a secret society.

All very interesting. Dan Brown could write several volumes on this one. 'The Hidden Walls of Conspiracy' maybe.

Or 'You never Jump Twice' perhaps. 'The man with the Golden Wall'?

'The Wall is Not Enough?'

or maybe something a little more Archer-esque... 'Not a brick more, not a brick less' or even 'The Prodigal Wall Layer'?? (better stop there methinks.)

I feel like someone has handed me the keys to a new world!

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---Rudolph the Dirty Reindeer:

---A reindeer procession is under threat in Beverly , East Yorkshire ---after the council called the animals a health hazard

It seems that live Reindeer ARE a health hazard, yet DEAD foxes are not (see previous post)

Or maybe the health-hazards change between London and Yorkshire.

Or maybe 1 dead fox is simply NOT EQUAL to 4 live reindeer.

Perhaps the EU run a sort of quota system to determine how many animals constitute a health-hazard when in public, and there is a tariff for regional adjustment, exemptions between living and dead creatures, and also different interpretations between councils and police forces.

This is what Brussels is all about.

Long live the BLING (Belgium, Luxembourg and Internal Non-Governmental organisations). (This is a Synstar Joke, sorry).

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Lovely animal, super brush, but sadly riddled with disease and fleas.

Local kids wanted to play with it, and the dogs 20ft away in the park off the leads were salivating and struggling to get through the railings onto the road to feast upon the dog. Uggh!

Interesting issue here is whether or not allowing your dog off the lead to hunt a dead fox is illegal or not ?

But moving on quickly, my mate wanted to clear the dead fox away to stop any nasty disease or infections being exposed to the public. He gallantly did a Francis Drake and put his jacket over the fox. The Queen was nowhere to be seen , so he called the Crown Police on 999 and asked for assistance.

The 999 folk spent 30 seconds reading back his telephone number using caller-id technology, then routed him to the control room. The control room then routed him to a another police desk who then told him to call another number.

He called the new number, who then wanted to know his number and address. Despite the fact that a mobile phone can be traced to about 50 yards in London (using gprs), it was several minutes before he could communicate his address, and his mobile number to the new station. He requested a forensic bag to bag up the fox, and agreed with the police to guard the fox while they arrived.

But nothing happened.

Nothing.

His first call was at 0818. So at 0848 he felt that 30mins for something rather in the interests of public safety was a tad long, he called 999 again. He quoted the reference, 2052/18November2005 (he has a good memory), and the police quickly assured him that it was being handled. It was getting cold, so after another 15 minutes, he picked up Mr Fox (wrapped in his coat), and ran (to keep warm) to the nearest nick (cop shop)

And then it got silly. As he walked into the back of the Nick, he was almost run over by a policevan reversing. Cold and upset, he was then surprised when the police driver starting taking his details and called for backup. Clearly a dead fox in the road is not of police interest, but a dead fox in a police station car park requires at least 4 police to handle the dangerous situation.

You can imagine the scene :

A fully loaded fox (full furry jacket) facing the full metal jackets of SA80 guns.

The police didn't know what to do with the fox, but were very keen on investigating the public spirited guy who was trying to protect the public. It was now 15 minutes after the 2nd 999 call, and 45 minutes after the first.

When my friend explained that he HAD CALLED 999 , and quoted the appropriate reference number, there arguments were somewhat deflated, and mumbled something about foxes not being covered under the Road Traffic Act.

Well my friend was now freezing, annoyed and fearing for his life (almost run down by a reversing police van -- Road Traffic Act?) , and then rapidly getting very cold , asking the police for either a blanket , or somewhere warm. He was wearing only a running singlet.

Maybe we should forget the bombers, and focus on serving the public properly ? I bet more people die from nasty diseases and infections than tube line bombs. After all, 'Police' literally means 'people' and these guys didn't seem to be acting in anyone's interest except their own.

Some numbers :

Time of first 999 call 0818

Time of second 999 call 0848

Number of times mobile number given to police : 5
Number of times address given to police : 5

Time of call to Vet at Police station 0913 (police very suspicious of this guy too!)

Number of police in van reversing : 2

Number of police arriving in police station car park : over 4

Number of times asked for warm blanket or go inside : 5

Number of excuses offered by police not to give jacket/blanket or go inside : 5

I must admit that I am beginning to think about turning to crime. It's a damn sight easier than trying to serve the public...

I'm off to Canada to learn about the dangers of natural anthrax in dead deer. Anyone know who might be interested in animals who Bin Laden-with-Anthrax ?? !!!!!

ps : another odd thing, was that my friend is quite conversant with the phonetic alphabet (all that 'uniform tango' nonsense that the police are so 'good' at), but spelling addresses using it seemed to baffle the 999 service. It makes one wonder.

I don't think that any blame should be pointed to the police individuals who got caught up in this silly farce. But rather point to their training that seems to remove common-sense from their brains. Here's a guy trying to help, and all the police can do , is try to ignore it, and then take it all far too seriously.

A car dispatched with a forensic bag would have wrapped up the fox in under 5 minutes.

As my headmaster ('Punk') used to say :

'Any breach of common sense is a breach of school rules'.

Absolutely.

Come on Queenie, let's fix the Law.

Let's put the England back into England!

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It is legal tender, and worth 5GBP, and was on sale in its presentation pouch for 10GBP.

I bid the chap down to 4 quid -- making me an instant profit of at least 1 pound.

But why would someone want to do that?

My only guess is that it's stolen, so I'll have to hand it in to the police.

Either that or Dick Whittington was right.

There is however a certain market in East London, where stolen goods may be legally bought and sold -- as long as the transactions take place before dawn. Very odd. Very interesting. Rather profitable!

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The contents had been scattered to the four winds, and there were some clothes lying around.

I gathered up various interesting documents about Immunology, private medical notes ,an interesting looking security pass -- class 3 or class 6 (I cannot remember) for the London Royal Free Hospital, and the telephone number of Commander KestrelWorth.

I took it all to the police station and let them know that it looked like there had been a struggle, and handed in the goodies.

If anyone has lost a doctor recently, give me a shout, and I'll tell you which police station is holding the stuff.

It's amazing what you can find when you keep your eyes open.

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I don't mean literally shut, but what I mean is whether or not they actually think about what they see.

This morning, whilst cruising through the east-end of London, I came across a large brush lying in the middle of the road.

It explained rather neatly why the car in front of me swerved. Lukily I wasn't driving my car with the low brakepad splitter, so I managed to straddle it without incident. I parked up , put my hazards on and watched...

Everyone simply drove around it, or over it (as some did). A women in a white renault did an impressive skid. She recovered well I didn't know women could do that. That certainly opened my eyes on that score!

I nipped back and picked up the brush. It's clearly not mine, so I propped it up on a railing. About 50 metres was a street cleaner, looking earnestly for something missing from his little wheelie thing. I shouted to him, but he was so busy searching an empty pavement he ignored me.

It reminds me of the drunk looking for his keys on a dark night under a streetlight. When asked by a policeman what he is doing, he proudly says ,

"I'm looking for my keys"

The policeman asks where he lost them. Being drunk, the drunkard doesn't spot plod's stupidity (if he knew where he lost them then he wouldn't need to look very much).

Bo peep continues ,

'I think somewhere in the road, but it's dark there, so I looking where it's lighter'.

We have a new rule for finding things :

'You will more likely find something of interest or value, if you look in a darker place'.

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And you know my weakness for a lady in uniform! Gets me every time.

The 4-wheel back axle looks pretty cool -- obviously something nice and heavy in there. And the give away non-flammable gas health and safety warning!

So although they may be a little coy about what the gas is , it's not oxygen.

But is it a laughing matter ?

But the fact that H&S regulations mean that covert operations are in fact reasonably discoverable is laughable.

I hear the french have considered nerve-gas to calm the crowds. I would reccomend N20 rather than a V-xxx gas. Make 'em laugh, it's like feeding em cake.

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Now I can understand that finding exotic spiders in London is quite normal, but pound coins on the floor of a pub? I tried to find the owner, but nobody was admitting to it.

Sadly with Golden Browns wonderful tax system, one quid doesn't even get you half a pint of bitter.

Anyone know their spiders -- this one had a white cross on its back, a thorax about 5mm, hairy legs with swollen pedipalps. A Prize offered for the first answer.

But it's going to the Vet, I gave him some chocolate, and I think he didn't like it too much.

Pity, he was really smart, and able to jump over 12 inches.

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Also found a load of coins on the steps by the Lloyds building. There was loads of rubbish lying around, and in the rubbish, 59 pence in coppers. Not bad.

Finally, I got assaulted by three lovely girls in Wombledon (home of rubbish collecting). They gave me a good grope and a slap as they went past. If I had run after them and slapped them back, I could have been arrested. The law is wonderful. But the girls were nicer. Ask me nicely and I'll let you do it again...

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So instead I have decided to illuminate the darkness with the strange story of Mr Odd Hassel.

Mr Odd Hassel discovered the miracle of Cyclohexane, or C6H12 for the white coats.

What made the discovery so remarkable was that the molecule was non-planar -- it didn't sit in a plane. The atoms were joined in strange ways that didn't lie flat. These (bonds) are known by strange names as chairs , twists, lifts and boats.

For the geeks and the super-geeks, these strangely named bonds are known as tetra-valant (or 4 thingies). But watch out when using the word 'tetravalent' when a lady is around, you may be slapped.

As they say, tit-for-tat.

Finally, Mr Odd Hassel (this is true), won the Nobel Prize for this. Money for old oil.

For those who want to learn more, consult the Wikipedia...

Rouviere P. E. and Chen M. W. (2003) have isolated a bacterial strain, belonging to the class of beta-proteobacteria - Brachymonas petroleovorans CHX. This bacterium is capable of using cyclohexane as a carbon source for its growth. Brzostowicz et al. (2005) have identified two gene clusters in the above bacterium that are induced in presence of cyclohexane and are involved in cyclohexane metabolism. One gene cluster encodes enzymes involved in oxidation of cyclohexane to cy (that's enough ED.) Any more and the avian flu conspiracy theorists will descend on the world's first oil-fired chicken disease.

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I'm starting to wonder just how much small change is lying around London at any given moment. What I'm going to do tuesday is go walking for 1 hour, and focus on looking for coins in a well defined area.

I will be dissapointed if I find less than a pound's worth of change.

Now £1 an hour is not a lot, but I think with a little scientific method (in my madness), I can find some rules to get the finding-rate up into something more reasonable like say 3-4 pounds an hour.

The first rule is clear : whenever you find coins, keep looking in the same area.

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Both underneath the ticket machines at Holborn station.

Whenever you find a coin, keep looking -- often there will be more nearby.

My eyes are slowly opening, I think Mr Whittington was wrong -- London is paved with gold.

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Found £3.50 on steps of the Royal Exchange this morning. I guess someone must have been sitting there. Three nice shiney pound coins, and a fifty pence piece.

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