Photographs from a small group of islands
Whether it be bobbing up and down like a boat.
Or going down like the Titanic.
The Queen Elizabeth love hotel is definitely the place to dock.
Or plunge an anchor even.
Plus it’s also where there are seamen gags aplenty, so to speak.
Knight Rider-esque it may not be, but this decidedly worse for wear delivery bike at least appears to be well aware of its whereabouts.
And with its sinister stare, woe betide anybody that gets in its way.
Wigs, and especially woeful ones, are more than easy targets for merriment to say the least; however, whilst it might well be easy to insist that, finding oneself half hairless, it’d be a simple procedure of unceremoniously shaving it all off and coming over all Kojak, for those with cauliflower ears or unusually contoured craniums, a toupee at least must surely be a tad tempting.
But such understandable contemplations aside, it’s baffling in the extreme to imagine what kind of bloke could possibly consider complementing a man-made fibre bouffant with an equally fake beard.
On Sundays, it would seem, even superheroes like to spend some time partaking in a spot of playfulness in the park.
Either that, or it’s what could well be deemed a way overdue weekend workout.
With pushchairs for pampered pets in Tokyo not really all that rare, it presumably makes some kind of sense, if one has a couple of canines of course, to traipse them round in tandem.
Baseball caps or warmer woolly affairs in winter are all well and good, but there’s definitely a certain something about a few of the more traditional forms of headwear — items that somehow hark back to a bygone era, when society and sensibilities were slightly different.
Or especially dissimilar in fact in some circumstances.
