Friday, February 25, 2005

Looking Out of the Window Too Much Effort?

Then this Crouch End Weather Station is for you. There is an utterly bewildering array of statistics for you to look at. In summary: it's quite cold. The records at the bottom are good fun. It's in Gladwell Rd apparently, which is the Stroud Green side of Hornsey Town Hall, for you fans of precise details.

This will be very alienating for people who don't live in my house, sorry. Have a look out of the window instead.

25 comments:

  1. NEWSFLASH: There is a world beyond Crouch End

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  2. There is a world beyond Crouch End, but I went there once and it was a bit rubbish.

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  3. Where did you go, Finsbury Park?

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  4. Wow anonymous is angry...No I went (get this) South of the River and it was very, very scary.

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  5. Well someone's got to be angry on this blog.

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  6. Blimey - that's a lot of stats. I think their soil thermometer is broken though.

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  7. So you find south of the river scary then crouch end is a good choice. It's the nearest you can get to being back in the womb. Although admittedly the womb doesn't have monkey nuts.

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  8. I know what you mean this blog is turning into "The Most Genial Man in Crouch End"; I demand my money back.

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  9. I've informed trading standards, Red Ken and Malcolm Glazer. TS will be levelling a significant fine. Ken will be introducing the Jimp tax next week (apparently this week he's been too busy not apologising) and Glazer will be liquidating this blog and selling it off bit by bit.

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  10. Just how is Crouch End like a womb? You strange anonymous person.

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  11. It's the unspoilt motherland, my equally strange anonymous blog friend.

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  12. You make it sound like some kind of Nazi state. Is this really your implication?

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  13. Ken is that you?

    Nah, Crouch End's little and innocent. Hence why the "angriest" man has nothing to be narked about anymore. He should move to Milton Keynes. Plenty to rant about there.

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  14. Don't patronise Crouch End you will hurt it's feelings.

    Oh and I won't apologise because you had a party where you all dressed up as Nazis in the 1930's and that somehow absolves me off all responsability.

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  15. Are you currently in crouch end my fellow anonymous blogging buddy?

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  16. Why, want a fight?

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  17. RESULT! Ladies and gentleman I present to you the new Angriest Man in Crouch End! Wind him up and watch him go.

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  18. Hmmm Angriest Man in Farringdon would be closer to the mark...

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  19. [Engages Tony Blair sympathetic man of the people mediation mode] Now, now, people. I can't have this petty squabbling going on. There may be Olympic Inspectors around. I don't want any racism, argument or exercise of the democratic right of free speech upsetting the London 2012 bid.

    [Raises fingers into victory salute] Back the Bid!

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  20. Now the Diplomatic Softly-Softly Man of Crouch End makes an appearance. Well this will make you mad: Clive Owen (he who make a crap Bond) was "spotted" in a Heat/3am Slappers-style at O's noddle bar. The pollution of Crouch End has started. I feel a revolution coming on.

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  21. Hi, Jose Mourinho here. I was just browsing the internet during the time I was sent off from the Premierhsip Cup Final [sic], looking for a protege to whom I would teach the swaggeringly confident yet slightly sinister brand of sex appeal you've come to expect from me. Some wicked young gum-chewer not afraid to sulk if it gets results. "The angriest man in Crouch End..." I mused. "Well, that's certainly got potential." However, having read the blog and seen the so-called "angriest man" comprehensively out-angried by a posse of anonymous upstarts I've changed my mind. He can forget about it. If any of the upstarts want to learn how we do it in Portugal give me a call on 212-383-8478. Yours, Mourinho

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  22. Hi, it's me, the mysterious shadowy figure who sent Mourinho off earlier today. After the dust settled, I thought I'd share with you the transcript of what took place.

    Me: Now, Jose. It's been a big day for you, you've been running around, you've got all your friends here, you've drunk a lot of pop, and you've got yourself all exited. I don't want you to spoil it, so you're going to go to your room and think about what you've done, and maybe if you're good, I'll let you come down and see your friends for the celebrations at the end.

    Jose: Shalln't. I shalln't. [storms off, chewing furiously, foppish scarf trailing behind in the wind, sexily. Mmm.]

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  23. I like the way you've made Jose sound like the love-child of Harry Enfield's 'Kevin' character and Rupert the Bear.

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