My Photos, etc

Below are some of the photos, cartoons, memes and other comical or satirical items that appeal to my sense of humour, my sensitivities or my desire for justice, equality and fair play.

Nigel Austin 

author and occasional blogger

from 'Some Kind Of Happiness'   


   Lottie had been looking forward, guiltily, to her first evening of
freedom and a return to ‘Towsey Mouse’, happy to rely upon the
boys’ opinion of it as the best place to be. It was to become the
routine for the rest of their stay. The only downside for Robin was
the near certainty that his boyfriend would be in no fit state
physically for anything other than sleep once they called it a night.
As lingering hopes went, it was one he had abandoned.
   So far as his own drinking went, Robin was virtually addicted to
Cuba Librés, although even here he couldn’t let himself go enough
to get drunk. He liked how Miguel served them - with chunky ice, a
flourish of lemon and lime spliced over the rim of the glass and a
fancy straw - and that the squeezed lime tempered the sweetness of the Coke. Noel

continued to mix his spirits, owing allegiance to none and oblivious to

their heightened impact upon him as they vied for control of his

organs and functions. That he was even able to stand sometimes was

a tribute to his resistance to them - either that or a reflection of his

body’s ability to operate on auto-pilot. In Robin’s view, neither was

admirable but he was more concerned about his partner’s long-term health than with censure.
   Lottie was good fun. She could enjoy herself without completely
abandoning her inhibitions or senses. She paced herself, knowing her limit and not wanting

to reach it too quickly. Robin had never known Noel get to that point

and often wondered what it would
look like; would he hit an invisible wall and throw up, lose
consciousness or simply realise he’d had enough and stop drinking, thereby retaining his

dignity? If he ever needed to witness it, he hoped it would be

the latter but somehow doubted it could possibly be that simple - or

clean. Occasionally, he would try to find a way to suggest moderation

but it could be counter-productive and he knew it made him seem

like a wet blanket.

from 'Some Kind Of Happiness'   


   Lottie had been looking forward, guiltily, to her first evening of
freedom and a return to ‘Towsey Mouse’, happy to rely upon the
boys’ opinion of it as the best place to be. It was to become the
routine for the rest of their stay. The only downside for Robin was
the near certainty that his boyfriend would be in no fit state
physically for anything other than sleep once they called it a night.
As lingering hopes went, it was one he had abandoned.
   So far as his own drinking went, Robin was virtually addicted to
Cuba Librés, although even here he couldn’t let himself go enough
to get drunk. He liked how Miguel served them - with chunky ice, a
flourish of lemon and lime spliced over the rim of the glass and a
fancy straw - and that the squeezed lime tempered the sweetness of the Coke. Noel

continued to mix his spirits, owing allegiance to none and oblivious to

their heightened impact upon him as they vied for control of his

organs and functions. That he was even able to stand sometimes was

a tribute to his resistance to them - either that or a reflection of his

body’s ability to operate on auto-pilot. In Robin’s view, neither was

admirable but he was more concerned about his partner’s long-term health than with censure.
   Lottie was good fun. She could enjoy herself without completely
abandoning her inhibitions or senses. She paced herself, knowing her limit and not wanting

to reach it too quickly. Robin had never known Noel get to that point

and often wondered what it would
look like; would he hit an invisible wall and throw up, lose
consciousness or simply realise he’d had enough and stop drinking, thereby retaining his

dignity? If he ever needed to witness it, he hoped it would be

the latter but somehow doubted it could possibly be that simple - or

clean. Occasionally, he would try to find a way to suggest moderation

but it could be counter-productive and he knew it made him seem

like a wet blanket.