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A conversion to black & white using DxO PhotoLab 4 where I made some adjustments to color filters to bring out a much richer tonal contrast for the final image.

Alexander Dennis Enviro 200

 

New to First London as DML44104

Ex Metroline as DE1670

My own take on the 207 Formula 1 challengers of the Haas and Ferrari teams! Both cars are built using the style of the Speed Champions line and come in at 10 studs wide each.

 

Tried to work in as much detailing at this scale as possible, which explains the minifig hands as the t-wings. The Ferrari is in it's mid-season livery (approx. Silverstone spec) and the Haas is featured in its pre-season/Australia spec livery.

 

Also, I'm alive! Some of you may know I'm far more active over on Facebook with my cosplay work, but I still have time for Lego. Recently did an outing with my LUG at a local library here in Charlotte, NC for a comicon event they put on. Our group displayed some builds and I hosted a panel with a friend. It was fantastic. Hopefully I can find the time to post those pics in the next few weeks.

The daily 0840 OE23 Toton - Doncaster on this occasion only has one mover , 60074 seen approaching Rotherham Masborough.

To the rght is the main line as 60074 is seen on the 'old road' having got the green light it lets off a burst of clag as it accelerates.

 

26 11 15

Here was Warrington's Own Buses Alexander Dennis ADL Enviro 200 215 CX65 BUJ was seen photographed in Warrington on route 12. This bus was new and previously to Eifions Coaches in Mona. 2/11/19

 

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Anneliese - Pullip MIO Full Custo

 

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Owned and operated by the Kane County Forest Preserve, this majestic structure, built in the 19th century, uses 17th century technology to harness the wind for power.

 

This photo is part of a star trail that I'll put together later. For now, just a little something to wet your appetites.

MapMaster - Own work

 

Herculaneum and other cities affected by the eruption of Mount Vesuvius. The black cloud represents the general distribution of ash and cinder. Modern coast lines are shown.

 

A map showing the cities and towns affected by the eruption of Mount Vesuvius in 79 AD. The general shape of the ash and cinder fall (see w:en:pyroclast) is shown by the dark area to the southeast of Mt Vesuvius. (P.S. It seems strange to show the modern day English names for the two bodies of water - I am open to suggestions). This map shows lines and uses the Mercator projection (although that is not important on a map of this scale). North is, as usual, at the top of the map.

This is my own version of Kraven the Hunter, as you see I have changed the gender of one of Spider-Man's rogues. Kraven The Hunter is much older and is unable to battle Spider-Man so his Daughter "Kravana" has taken up the mantle of the hunter.

 

Tell me what y'all think! Also here is my own version of her backstory below!

 

LC Verse Spider-Man

 

Kravana The Huntress - Bennedicta Kravinoff - Daughter of Sergei Nikolaevich Kravinoff

 

- Kravana was trained as a hunter from a young age by her father Kraven to make her father proud by accomplishing to do something her father never could, kill Spider-Man. Her Mother Calypso cast a magical spell on her of "Longeivity" giving the appearance of a young teen however she is at least mid twenties. This misconception gives her the upper hand when her opponents misjudge her appearance and stature. Her Father Kraven has given up on trying to kill the wall crawler however believes his daughter may be up for the challenge, to improve her odds of killing Spider-Man her father has given her special unnamed herbs which he previously took. The herbs grant powers of extreme durability and many more enhanced physical attributes to give her the Advantage against stronger opponents. Kravana much to her fathers dismay likes to use a CrossBow to incapacitate her opponents before ending them with her steel blade, these actions are frowned upon by her father who believes in more of a 'hands on' approach to hunting than using weaponry she also sometimes gets assistance in battle by her brother "The Chameleon".

Does this cover rock or what!?

I am so excited to be a part of another book by the flickr Female Self Portrait Artists' Support Group (fspasg)! 88 women from around the globe are featured!

We are hoping to release the book exclusively through Blurb.com in March.

 

In Her Own Image features work from the following artists:

evilmightyacorn, Kolbin, gotti girl, Nurse Love Gash, Ashley | Bottle Bell, verablue, Brady*, riot jane, Quizz..., briemarie, bellybutton girl, Gold N Girl, Christina*Kay, Bas Bleu, rockstar ;), myslideshow, Daneli, dani, elise*marie, ena & the swan~, evilibby, Elle Moss, Elsa Prinsessa, Miss Eyelash, Emily Sandifer, Emma in Wonderland!, phamalamb, [Ligeia], IchBinEinBaum, fernandadesu, Paine666, Heather Evans Smith, Mademoiselle helenina, i.anton, ilina s, gartersnlace, ~~Jen~~, Caressamba, Haggis Chick, Juliet Home, Juliette LaCour, Karin Elizabeth, Lililly, Just sallyrye, kimrose..., kakhabad, ~Chiaroscura~, Olavia Kite, CinemaCowgirl, Lena Paloma, YetAnotherLisa, ~Solarina, Lucy's 10 Lives, .violaine., NW Sunshine, pioggia, Autumn Leaf { M. Felicity }, MFayre, delinion, Maryam S, *MaryElise*, mofo, Meganzii, AxisGrid, MMaeb, rowandevoe, Miss Aniela, monsters.monsters, CiaoChessa, ms.sparkles, Melodramababs, Özlem Haluk, pamela*, Qathi, Blumie the Koala, RossinaBossioB, Geekgirly, sadandbeautiful (Sarah), Sarah Schloo, sevgi.k, sosij, sharon t wheaton, *SophieCharlotte, the melody censor, [Teffin], Teresadoraphy, bitca.

 

Book cover credits:

Cover image by Erika Pham:

flickr.com/photos/phamalamb/

Design by elle moss / hsmithphotography:

flickr.com/photos/torchlightlms

flickr.com/photos/hsmithphotography/

 

Read about the first book HERE

We tumble past our own arms reach

Looking at the sturdy, weakened faces

The sharp piercing life that once held onto our falling defeat

Inhale goes the stars

Exhale goes yesterday’s world

Breathe in, holding up your torn, restricted appearance

The whisper touch of your fingertips

Across the white surface of our connection

We stumble past our own hearts’ breaking point

Into an unimaginable light of bliss satisfaction

Hold me closer, hold me tighter

Nonetheless my broken walls and weakened face

Mean nothing compared to my heart’s protective brace

- hannah martin

 

this is simple. this is plain. this is out of focus but I believe that’s the point

you can’t fully be there for someone if you let something like your ‘heart’s protective brace’ keep you back. I think as scary as it seems you need to tear yourself down and be…

bare

simple

plain

and let people love you for that because through time you change your mask over and over and you switch with many of the people you meet along the way but that bare canvas under all that paint is what and who you really are. so instead of hiding it…maybe its time you let yourself be accepted for the naked and exposed person you truly are

I hope this affects someone because I think it may very well help change your situation….drastically

 

PS, ive been tagged by many people annd im thinking of doing a video ? just because I get so excited when my contacts put videos up. whhat do you guys think ? sound like a good idea ?

have an epic…soon to be weekend

 

Warrington's Own Buses Alexander Dennis Enviro 200 216.SN11FFK at Warrington Interchange on the 29th January 2020. (New to Hillier, Foxham SO2 6/2011)

 

Bicknell, Utah

Okay, here is today's rant. Yesterday I watched Michael Moore's latest film, "Fahrenheit ll/9." It terribly disturbing and depressing. And mostly right on the money as far as I'm concerned. Please watch it. Now for the connection: Conservatives like nothing better than to complain about government running the lives of the citizenry. Don't like taxes, and love greed (okay, that last one is my prejudiced opinion). So here, in one of the most conservative states in the nation, they tell you that you will buy the kind of alcohol they choose, that you will pay the price that they say you will, and that you will only be able to buy it on specified days and times.

They'll also tell you that the free enterprise system for profit will help you get medical care and that you have not control over your uterus if you are a woman. Funny how conservatism only applies to what they want it to. American democracy has become a sham, and the real revolutionary forces that have won the war for independence are the theocratically driven conservatives who now not only own the economy, but all of our governance as well.

 

Natures Wild Rose.

Hidden away amongst the rugged West Texas Mountains is the tranquil Coal Mine Ranch. The ranch is privately owned so one must be invited, tho' what's more, is one must know how to navigate the unmarked dirt roads to arrive there. An off-road vehicle is a must, too. Once at the Coal Mine Ranch, satellite radio is the only connection to the civilized world; otherwise, expect one of the most relaxing times you could ever have in the wild.

 

The Coal Mine Ranch is featured in my second book, "El Paso 120 : Edge of the Southwest" which shows the incredible landscapes of West Texas, Southern New Mexico and ... well, El Paso. All areas included in the book are 120 miles or less from the City of El Paso, Texas. Upon release, "El Paso 120" went on to become a best seller and was recognized by the Texas Book Festival as one of the best Texas photography books of the year. The book is available to purchase from any major book sellers such as Barnes and Noble , Amazon or Waterstones

 

Signed copies are also available. Simply send me a message to arrange.

 

I help aspiring and established photographers get noticed so they can earn an income from photography or increase sales. My blog, Photographer’s Business Notebook is a wealth of information as is my Mark Paulda’s YouTube Channel. I also offer a variety of books, mentor services and online classes at Mark Paulda Photography Mentor

 

All images are available as Museum Quality Photographic Prints and Commercial Licensing. Feel free to contact me with any and all inquiries.

 

Follow My Once In A Lifetime Travel Experiences at Mark Paulda’s Travel Journal

My Grandfather was a rancher who butchered his own steers, so I have a thing for cattle ranches. I was wandering around this place when a truck pulled up, it was the owner. :) I told him I love old farms and was just taking some photos. His response, "Sorry the place is such a mess." Later as I pulled away I thought to myself, "The beauty is in the mess." I asked him how long the farm had been there and his response was, "As long as I can remember, and I am 61" Despite the age of the structures the back pastures were filled with cattle.

Long exposure with headlight trails. / Exposição longa capturando o arrasto dos farois dos carros

 

Buy it NOW / Compre AGORA

 

Holy Trinity Church, Kingswood

 

Until the early 19th century Kingswood had no church of its own, and was served by the ancient parish of Bitton four miles away. A church was considered an urgent requirement by Anglicans, as the area was a hot-bed of Nonconformity with the Wesleyan, Whitfield Tabernacle and Moravian churches already in operation. The church was built within sight of all three and was given a tower so that it became more prominent than its neighbours.

 

It was one of the first churches built from funds voted by Parliament to mark Napoleon's defeat at Waterloo, and hence known as a "Waterloo Church". The foundation stone was laid by the Bishop of Gloucester on 9 June 1819, but there followed a dispute over the title of the site which meant that building did not begin in earnest until 1820. The completed church was consecrated on 11 September 1821. The architect was James Foster.

 

The church was damaged by fire in 1852 and the panelled ceiling in the nave was never replaced. The present chancel was added 1897–1900. It contains a Sweetland Organ built in 1903. There are two bells in the tower however these are no longer ringable.

 

The churchyard contains war graves of eight service personnel of World War I and seven of World War II.

 

The parish and benefice of Kingswood is within the Diocese of Bristol.

Shenanigans at the Wailing Sireen

 

There is a pub on the downtown docks known far and wide named the Wailing Sireen.

 

It is owned and operated by a gentleman( Loose term) known as Brute Burton. Brute is a rather impressive specimen, standing well over 2 meters tall, weighing over 15 stone, and strong enough to have lifted a 600 pound ox to win a wager. Not the type of man, if one is sane, to plays tricks upon!

  

Now Brute Burton is a retired sailor himself, who had worked the riggings of many a brig that travelled our seven seas. He retired the same day they permanently docked his last birth, a fine 3 Masted schooner christened the HMS Cybelemoon, a ship he had been mated on for the last 12 years. As the schooner was being overhauled, he bought several of the hand engraved exported mahogany planks from the captains quarters, and taking them to the pub he had purchased with his life savings, fashioned them into a bar that ran the whole length of the Wailing Sireen’s west wall.

  

Most of the many bars located along that old, salt weathered waterfront have a somewhat nasty reputation for being quite rowdy establishments, full of drinkin sailors, wild women, fights breaking out on the minute, and other forms of debauchery and nefarious activities.

  

But the Wailing Sireen is some what of an anomaly around these parts, for Brute Burton will have none of that rowdiness in his place. Although not perfect, its patrons have become accustomed to obeying the taverns unspoken rules, for by doing so, would mean a quick grab and throw out the BACK doors by Brute, whose best effort once threw a rather drunk sailor across the road and through the doors of the bar on the other side. A massive heave of over 8 stone and 12 meters distance!!

  

The Wailing Sireen is located close to the quite popular Oceanside gambling casino, Hermes Rest, well known to be an underworld held establishment!

  

Now one would think, given the clientele of the area, along with Brutes lack of toleration for rowdiness, that the Wailing Sireen pub would be almost void of patrons. But actually the place is usually packed, especially on weekends when the folks from uptown who want a bit of excitement by going down to that somewhat chancy side of town. They start up gambling a bit at the casino, then gather upon the Wailing Sireen, knowing that they will be fairly safe within the old blackened interior of the large pub as they rub elbows with perhaps ( shall we say?) the least desirable members of their society.

  

^^^^^^^^^^

 

And so, we now come to the evening of our tale: an early fall evening, full harvest moon just peaking over the tall masts of the ships docked in the small harbour that was the bread and butter of the town that surrounded it.

  

It is a crowded Friday night, full of sailors in port, college students on a holiday weekend, all mixed in with the wealthier , more daring of the townsfolk. The narrow sidewalks that line the cobblestone street are crowded with a score or more of happily liquored souls wondering to and from the casino, bar to bar, in search of satisfying whatever the reason is that brings them out to this area.

  

As one looks upon this scene, they may notice a rather handsome couple swishing in and out amongst the happy throng…

 

He is nattily dressed in hound’s-tooth tweedy suit, gold fob and chain that crosses his waistcoat ending with a large gold pocket watch, a black bowler is perched on his head, and a long black umbrella held in the crouch of his arm . He is attentively escorting a rather fetchingly pretty lady, enticingly clad in a long violet dress of silk and lace, wearing a pretty necklace with matching earrings that glitters as she weaves in and out of the rough crowd. The the couple make their way carefully along the wooden planks of the dock’s sidewalks, peering cautiously into doors of the noisy pubs as they pass..

  

They stop outside the open doors of the Wailing Siren Pub and peer inquisitively inside. Just as they do, a rather thin chap with a perpetually smiling face, wearing old worn canvas trousers, a weather worn sailors blouse, and with a flat cap on his head comes upon them from behind. Long wisps of sun weathered sandy blonde hair fall in strings from the cap, some of them tied into a short pony tail. He is rather young, but the look in his keen brite blue eyes are those of a much older, perhaps even wiser man.

 

He stands behind the couple, patting them both on the back with a joyful cheerio.

 

As the both turn their heads in a rather annoyed fashion, he grins, better In than out Jack always says, and enthusiastically parts the two as he goes on inside.

  

The couple watch as the rather odd man calling himself Jack makes his way through the throng, acknowledging several people, but not receiving any recognition. He finally reaches a table with three men, all in severe cut suits, two built like the body guards they were, the third with a weasely face ,held pursed in a stern and unforgiving manner. Next to him stands a rather voluptuous lady, curvy in a long red satin number that flows down to her feet. From her ears, neck ,wrist and fingers sparkle a fine collection of emeralds set with diamonds, small but quite expensively real.

  

The couple at the doorway look at each other and silently a decision is made and they go inside and sit at a back table by a fireplace, where the beginnings of a large fire are in place, waiting to be lit once the cool chill of the evening fog rolls in.

  

Meanwhile the odd stranger has seated himself with the 3 men, and engages them in conversation. The lady in red, still standing, listens in, becoming quite interested in the charismatic newcomer and his many lively stories…

  

All the while Brute Burton works his station at the bar, serving up drinks as they are ordered, sliding them down the bar with expert precision.

  

Sadly, poor Brute is in a rather worse mood than usual this evening. Quite peeved that his favourite barmaid had up and quit the day before , having been sweet talked into taking a job at one of his competitors just down the street. This has been the topic of much conversation up and down the docks all day, so much so, that everyone pretty much knows to stay clear of the disgruntled bar keep, and Brute is quite happy with that. So, needless to say, what happens next came as quite a surprise to a lot of people, including Brute!

  

Brute had been eyeing a particular table all evening, it was made up of 4 men, and some tart in a red dress. The men, especially the thin one, one wearing an old discoloured flat cap, faded sailors dress, have grown more vocal, their tongues loosened by the pints of beer being consumed. And apparently, the attention Brute is giving them had not gone unnoticed, for they were quite obviously talking about Brute himself, judging by the way they had all been stealing looks his way.

  

This made Brute quite a bit more upset, and the men at the table apparently knew it, much to his chagrin. So it was with grinding teeth that Brute observed the thin man in the sailors rig rise and head up, a little wobbly, towards the bar, with his fellow table mates, including the dolled up tart, all watching with obviously keen interest.

  

The thin sailor sat down at the bar and called out cheerfully, hey barkeep, a shot of the devil’s own then. Brute poured a bit of rotgut in a shot glass, and intending to give the young sailor a piece of mind, walked ( rather than sliding ) it over to him.

  

Look ‘ere now, Brute said, I want no troubles from you mate , capisec lad?! he warned the grinning sailor in a stern tone. Then he gave the sailor a second, closer look over..

Wait a minute, Brute added, , didn’t I see you in ere last night?

 

Indeed you did my most observant sir, Indeed you did, and he offered a hand to shake, which was ignored by Brute. Unfazed, the sailor withdrew his hand and continued on; Jackie’s the name sir, and he nodded a hello to the burly , stern eyed barkeep. Came here on a lark last evening, enjoyed your fine establishment so much, decided to return. He looked into Brutes eyes, but the barkeep was having none of it, no scrawny excuse for a sailor was going to butter him up!

  

Jackie continued smiling and said, no worries my man, just here again in your fine establishment for a friendly drink. He slid a couple of coins to the barkeep who began to pick them up. Say barkeep, Jackie amiably asked Brute. Would you know be interested in winning few bucks from a betting sailor with nothin better to do with his money? What are you one about Brute asked, his hooded eyes holding back a fire waiting to ignite.

  

Just this Jackie continues on pleasantly cooing his words, 5 pounds say that I can lick me right eye.

 

Brute just looked at him for a full minute then said your on, but no shenanigans he added, go ahead and lick your right eye. With a smile, Jack popped out his right glass eye and licked it, before putting it back. The whole bar hushed, as Jack held out his hand, the bartender threw down a fiver, the look he was giving Jack would have sent most men running. The whole bar was now watching, quite a few standing for a better look at what was going on, waiting to see what was going to befall upon the mischief making sailor….

  

Jackie did not touch the fivers, instead he said, quite apologetically, I am so sorry chappie, That was actually quite rude of me I’ll admit, and after promising o shenanigans to boot. Tells you what dear sir, and he pulls a wad of notes from his pocket and lays down a total of twenty on top of his fiver.

 

Gives you a chance to make your money back, and profit Jackie said with a promise. Lets hear it than, Brute said, snarling so loudly that some of the Wailing Sireens patrons actually cringed, some even stepping backwards and tripping up against those behind them….

  

Ok Jackie again said in that sing song manner of his, this lot is yours( he pointed to the pile of notes) if I cannot bite my left eye!

 

Brute just looked at him for a minute, a long, quite cold minute. He finally spoke, choosing his words carefully, as he kept his temper in check…. I didn’t know about your fake eye me salty lad, but I sure en hell knows you aint blind. . Your on he says, and pulls out a wad of his own, slapping down a total of 20 hard earned notes on top of his fiver. Jackie gulps down the last of his rotgut, and smiles widely, playing the pubs hushed attention for all it was worth, then taking out his false teeth, he smartly bit his left eye.

  

You could have heard a pin drop on the wooden saw dusted floor of the place , it was now so quiet, then a murmuring started as everyone pushed forward a bit, knowing what would be happening next to the cunning sailor calling himself Jackie.

  

As For Jackie, he continued to smile as he adjusted his false teeth ( ivory) and then nonchalantly pulled a plug of tobacco from his pocket and biting off a wad, started to chew as he looked Brute dead in the eye. The piles of notes lay on the counter, untouched, seemingly unnoticed by either of the two , Brute or Jackie.

  

Brute finally broke the long silence, moving towards Jackie, his meaty fists griping the bar, as if he were trying to hold them back from strangling the living daylights out of the thin sailor looking all for the world like a cat that had gotten the canary.

  

Brutes words came, snarling from his lips, as he said in no uncertain terms. Yur crackers Laddie, and youns have just earned a one way ticket out of my pub, and if your lucky, only a few of your bones will be broken when you land! … as he spoked his right hand detached itself from the mahogany bar, and grabbed the sailor by his blouse, with the intention of lifting Jackie up and tossing him physically from the premises!

  

Jackie, totally unruffled by Brutes actions, laid a hand upon the Publicans wrist, and tsk’d Brute, who in surprise at the unperturbed demeanour of Jackie, actually let go of the sailors blouse and allowed his hand to be gently taken aside and placed upon the bar.

 

I know Jackie said complacently , as he chewed his tobacco, That was not a nice thing atoll for me to do, seeing how it is my honour to be here in your fine establishment, and me playing tricks on ye, not a nice ting atoll for a patron to do. Jackie smiled winningly up at the still bristling Brute. Tell ya what my fine friend, do you have a half- penny on you perchance?

  

Brute could not believe his ears, he was totally flabbergasted at this sailors actions, but still slightly more than mite curious, like the fabled lion listening to the mouse pleading his case, wondering why this git just did not seem to understand just whom he was toying with.

  

Finally Brute just said , yeah numbskull, why?

 

The whole bar was now absolutely focused on the goings on between Brute and the sailor Jackie, never before had anyone taunted the bartender with such nerve and still was be able to stand upright…

  

Jack just grinned for a few seconds before speaking. I truly do feel bad for playing me little jokes on you, its just me personality understand, and I am unable to control it after a few pints of the houses best you my dear most gracious sir…? . Brute started to say something, but Jackie cut in with, hear me out kind sir, and ye may find it worth your while for putting up with ol Jackie this evening!

  

Jackie picked up his empty shot glass, looking at it as he spoke. See this shot glass dear, most reasonable, sir, if you would,take it to the far end of your rather pretty polished bar and hold it up like you were cheering me.

 

I will bet your half penny against this pile of notes laying on your bar, that I can spit out this entire bit of tobacco I am chewing, and every bit of it will land dead centre inside that shot glass… If so much as a drop of it lands anywhere else, you then win the whole pot, every last pence….

  

Brute thought for a very long minute, trying to see all the angles, and finding none that could lose him the pot. In his mind he reasoned, how could anyone accomplish such a feat, especially a cocky drunken sailor with more mouth than sense?

  

Ta, your on lad he snarled, but I hold the money until after your bet. Agreed Jackie said, and pushed the notes up against the shot glass. Brute picked up both the glass and notes, walked to the far end of the bar, about 3 meters, and held the glass up against his spotless white apron.

  

The entire bar was still in a hush, and actually had become quite crowded now as word had spread across to some of the other drinking establishments, whose curious patrons had come over to witness the goings on…most hoping to be entertained with watching a rather thorough beating of a certain thin sailor..!

  

Jackie just grinned, ready he said, and taking a mouthful of air, spit out the wad of wet brown gooey tobacco. The unsavoury mess flew across the bar, hitting Brutus, the bar, the walls…everywhere but inside the shot glass.

  

Realizing that he had won the bet, Brute pocketed the notes, and started laughing, as he wiped the brown slime off himself, his apron, and the surface of his bar . The entire bar nervously erupted into laughter, poking themselves, and pointing towards the witless sailor and his odd games which had cost Jackie some fifty pounds!

  

Brute finished his cleaning, and still chuckling . looked over at Jackie, who was still sitting there, still smiling like had had not a care in the world. Puzzled Brute moved back to the sailor, and addressed him rather curtly.

 

Se here mate, what is it with you, your antics here have cost you a pretty penny, yet you sit there grinning like the whole world is your oyster.. what of it , are you just looney or daft , or both!?

 

Jackie just smiled, rising from his seat he looked up at the bar tender. Hopefully neither my most kind sir, hopefully neither!

  

Its like this, see that table back there, and he nodded towards the table that Jackie had left before approaching the bar. The tart had a silly grin on her face, but the three gentlemen sitting there were not smiling atoll, just wearing unbelieving frowns upon their hard mugs.

  

Brute looked back to Jackie, yeah I see them, what of it!?

 

Well me lad, and Jackie moved just a little further away, its like this… Those gentleman back there bet me a thousand pounds against me coming up here and spitting tobacco juice over yourself and fine bar, and have you clean the mess up yourself, laughing all the while… which is exactly what you just did…

 

Brute just stared at the smirking sailor, realizing that he had been played for a fool after all. Jackie was now out of reach, and so Brute just snarled at the impish sailor…

 

Pick up your winnings mate, and hightail your miserable carcass outta of here…. If I ever so much as see your shadow at me door, I will not be held responsible for my actions, he promised in no uncertain terms.

  

Jackie bowed with obeisance to the Bartender, then turns and walks up to the table.

 

Reaching it he winks at the girl, leans over the 3 gentlemen. Sorry chaps you heard the keep, I must sadly be one my way. From the table his picks up the pile of notes the gentlemen lost in the bet. Jackie moves off as the men start to protest, ignoring them, and smiling winningly at the lady in the red dress, who smiles back.

  

Jackie weaves his way through the still chattering crowd, ignoring them. And without looking back, leaves the Wailing Sireen.

  

Jackie quickly turns a corner and finally looks back. Once he is certain that no one follows, he darts down a side alleyway. After a series of turns up, down and doubling back more alleyways and darkened back paths he crosses a street and approaches another pub.

  

But instead of going inside, Jackie lights a small black irish pipe and waits a few minutes to get it going, casually looking around.

  

Then, turning on his heels, he makes his way to the back side of the pub and heads up a staircase leading to a small row of apartments for let. Going to one he raps a signal on the door with his knuckles. A matching rap is heard from inside, and Jack answers with a another signal. The door is unlocked . Turning the knob slowly, Jackie opens the door with caution, then, with a final look around, steps inside.

  

There were two of occupants in the room, standing on either side of a bed. The very couple that Jack had greeted at the doorway of the Wailing Sireen.

 

The chap in the hound’s-tooth suit had pulled from inside the sleeve of his umbrella a ling thin deadly sharp rapier, and was pointing it nastily towards the door, held up level with Jacks chest. The attractive lady in the violet gown was holding a diminutive 2 shot derringer , cocked, she had pulled from neath her left satin glove, it too was pointing at Jacks chest.

 

Ello put away yur ”greeters” mates, its only meself coming to visit ya after placing life and limb in peril .

 

I don’t know about your life being in peril luv, the lady in purple sneers pleasantly ,but I would’avetaken bets against your breaking a few limbs byth eway you were teasing the guv’ner who owns that bar. But should have known you would squeak it through, you put up a good job of it!

 

The man in tweed smiles, yes mate, you did the talk pretty well, as usual, and played it to your advantage… Our advantage mate, as it always is…

 

Speaking of advantage, how did we do? Jackie asked curiously, we had a good crowd this evening, he added.

 

They both smile as they put away their weapons.

  

Then both grasped the top sheet on the bed and wicked it off. Exposing a rather impressive collection of assorted wallets small pouches of coin,b oth gold and silver pocket watches, diamond pins, 3 necklaces, a handful of shimmering rings and a number of glittering ladies bracelets. Picked it clean while everyone was watching your antics, said Erebus, the man in the hound’s-tooth suit

  

Including this, said Teddi, the lady in violet, as she delved her hand inside her gowns satin sash, extracting and showing off a rather dazzling diamond and emerald bracelet. Jackie smiled, hoped you had spotted that one, blondes should know better than to wear emeralds, horrible choice with fair skin. They all were grinned widely at his point.

  

So, Erebus asked, how did you do with that group of the casino winners?

 

Parted them from a thousand of their winnings, less what I had used as to bait the bartender, Jackie said proudly. Always nice to end things a stay with a bang!

  

Erebus pulled up a heavy satchel from neath the bed, and opened it, more pretty things glittered from inside, along with assorted items that matched those laying on the bed.

  

It was their collective haul from the 3 nights they had been in town so far. Teddi came around and helped Erebus start to place the items on the bed inside the satchel.

  

Jackie stole a look outside, making sure the way was clear. Stepping back in he said Ok now lets finish packing it up and split ways. The train is leaving in an hour. Meet at the trains pub car for a drink at midnight Jack said, 3 strangers on a train! That is what we be

 

Jackie smiled, and at the next town we will divvy up this lot, and see about adding to it. They all nodded in eager agreement.

 

As Jackie continued to keep an eye outside the door, Erebus and Teddi began to quickly pack up operations.

Fini

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

 

Thanks to one of my main protagonists, Eileen, who told the joke that made the gist of this story. She winningly carried out the tale one rather blustery night, inside by a cheery fire at the Poet and Peasant Pub, our own dockside hangout.

Thanks to CybeleMoon, Teddi Beres and Erebus Darkfold for the graciously allowing me the privilege to use their names to add a bit of their unique colour to my tale.

 

Warrington's Own Buses 1202 in Warrington on service 17 to Oakwood. 28th February 2025.

Owned By: El Dorado Disposal (WC)

 

Unit Number: 202706

 

Fuel Type: Diesel

 

Chassis: Volvo WX-42

 

Body: Wittke Starlight FL

 

Additional Notes: Now on 6 yard Construction debris dumpsters.

I'd worn this skirt as part of an overlay outfit earlier in the week, but decided I'd like to wear it on its own with a top on this evening :-)

Certainly we can do something for your beautiful blonde hair.

VDL DB250LF / Wright Pulsar Gemini

 

New to Arriva London as DW69

Formerly with Vision Bus of Blackrod

Inspiration: We own the night - by Selena Gomez ft. Pixie Lott

 

www.youtube.com/watch?v=YTkx-AbrIs0&feature=related

 

Is it alright if I'm with you for the night?

Hope you don't mind, if you stay by my side

We can drive in your car somewhere into the dark,

Pull over and watch the stars

We can dance, we can sing, do whatever you think

As long as I'm with you

 

When we are together is the time of our lives

We can do whatever, be whoever we like

Spend the weekend dancing, 'cause we sleep when we die

Don't have to worry 'bout nothing

We own the night

 

We own the night (3x)

 

It's all a blur, it's getting late, but I don't care

I don't know where we'll end up and that's OK

We can drive in your car somewhere into the dark,

Pull over and watch the stars

We can dance, we can sing, do whatever you think

As long as I'm with you

 

When we are together is the time of our lives

We can do whatever, be whoever we like

Spend the weekend dancing, 'cause we sleep when we die

Don't have to worry 'bout nothing

We own the night

 

We own the night

 

Nothing last forever, let's live it up, when we're together

Nothing last forever, so let's live it up

Just do whatever

 

When we are together is the time of our lives

We can do whatever, be whoever we like

Spend the weekend dancing, 'cause we sleep when we die

Don't have to worry 'bout nothing

We own the night

 

When we are together is the time of our lives

We can do whatever, be whoever we like

Spend the weekend dancing, 'cause we sleep when we die

Don't have to worry 'bout nothing

We own the night

 

We own the night (3x)

   

For I am just a Prisoner of My Own Mind.

 

Large

Owned by Steve Keylon

4th Annual San Marino Motor Classic.

www.youtube.com/watch?v=9wNZEJfAVY4

For a brief period of couple of minutes 4 Dublin Bus Double Decks own the space......Long may this last!

Spread love like violence.

 

If I had my own world

I'd fill it with wealth and desire

A glorious past to admire

And voices of kids out walking,

Dogs, birds, planes, cleanest cars

 

If I had my own world

I'd love it for all that's inside it

There'd be no more wars, death or riots

There'd be no more police, packed-parking lots,

Guns, bombs sounding off,

 

If I had my own world

I'd show you the life that's inside it

The way that it glows when you find it

The way it survives with it's families,

Friends or it's enemies

 

Let's make this a new world

I swear you can go if you want to

I know that you have that within you

Inventing the first clean and usable,

God's greatest miracle

IDTX 4623 leads Hiawatha train #337 near Wadsworth, IL.

Mais do meu novo atelier... :)

Owned by Strathclyde PTE (no. A10), painted in the livery of West Midlands PTE (no. 7053) and seen operating in Sheffield for South Yorkshire PTE, TGG 386W is acting as a demonstrator for Volvo.

 

It is an Ailsa Volvo B55 Series 3 with Alexander RV bodywork, new in 1981.

So I currently own 4 dolls Blake my Rheia, Dawn, my Ante, Reign my Chloe and Bastion my Mirwen.

 

I plan to own Dezzy my Celine, Dutch my nanuri14 and Robyn my Feeple Rona.

 

I went from owning a Small collection of 4 to a collection of 7 and it's killing me because my room is very small and I don't want to have a huge collection of dolls.

 

So I instantly thought of who to sell. Dawn wasn't having it for she was my cute little girl who I didn't any problems with. Reign but this face he gave me today told me no as well. And Bastion and Blake also shook their heads.

 

I guess I am just going to have to deal with owning seven dolls. I never felt so content with owning dolls to the point that I will allow more to come in.

 

How do you guys deal with something like this?

RF 19 owned by Colin Curtis (LT`s Vehicle Engineering Manager) was kept at Stamford Brook Garage for many months as seen here on 16 January 1982. He had a particularly good rapport with the engineering staff at Stamford Brook as most had been at Turnham Green Garage when that was the usual place for testing buses in service that had experimental features fitted at Chiswick Works under the directive of Colin.

 

Through progressive arthritis in his hands, It was sad to see how little Colin could do in terms of gripping tools, a steering wheel or even a brush to wash his bus occasionally. He was never short of help though as he was one of those rare examples of a person in a position of authority who always had time for anyone interested in the things that interested him. Without his help, advice and willingness to sanction things that enabled the reserve collection of vehicles for the LT Museum to begin, there probably wouldn`t have been a vehicle collection at all.

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