Disposable Barcelona.

I could never say anything about Barcelona better than Freddie Mercury and Montserrat Caballé, so let’s just cut to the chase and let them do their thing:

These pictures are an attempt to follow that up…

80030001

80030002 80030003 80030006 80030005 80030004 80030007 80030008 80030009 80030010 80030011 80030012 80030013

One of the best days we had was when we left Barcelona for Montserrat.

80030014

80030015 80030016 80030017

80030018

80030019

Sadly leaving Barcelona wasn’t very easy. Not only because we’d had such a great time and developed an attachment to the place, but also because Monarch Airlines are TERRIBLE and our flight was delayed. Here are some pictures that make that experience look like it was actually quite pleasant. Don’t be fooled by them, and don’t EVER fly with Monarch.

80030020 80030021

Don’t worry, we sent them several angry tweets.

80030022

Disposable Porto.

There’s nothing wrong with staying in tents at music festivals, I’d do it. I have done it. I’d do it again. But it’s great when you go to a music festival and you don’t have to stay in a tent. Bed beats tent, okay?

Optimus Primavera Sound gave us a great excuse to visit Porto. We stayed in a Port wine themed hostel, found out what Azulejo tiles are, and discovered that Blur are actually still pretty great at playing live music. Not that we took any pictures of them or anyone else playing music at the festival, but we definitely did go and it was totally righteous.

80010001 80010002 80010003 80010004 80010005 80010006 80010007 80010008 80010009 80010010 80010011 80010012 80010013 80010014 80010015 80010016 80010017 80010018 80010019 80010020 80010021 80010022 80010023 80010024 80010025 80010026 80010027 80010028

Disposable Switzerland.

That which lies dormant may one day erupt.

This first post on Shot Simple for quite a long time may not grab you as the most dramatic of volcanic activity, but I’m still quite excited about it.

Having a Swiss mother has meant that I’ve had the good fortune to enjoy countless trips to the land of Toblerone. On this particular trip to Switzerland it was my great pleasure to show one of my favourite places to my favourite person. I’m pretty sure she liked it. Sorry that this sounds well cheesy. Ha! CHEESY! Get it?! Emmental??!

AAA025A AAA024A AAA023A AAA022A AAA021A AAA019A AAA018A AAA017A AAA016A AAA015A AAA014A AAA013A AAA012A AAA011A AAA010A AAA009A AAA008A AAA007A AAA006A AAA005A

AAA003A AAA004AAAA002A

 

AAA001A AAA000A AAA_000A

Disposable Bear and Deer.

Adam, being a true gentleman, wanted his special lady Annie to have the final say on what the theme of their wedding would be.  Adam is wise.  Although he no doubt wanted a medieval, Game of Thrones, awesome broadsword-fest of a wedding, his wisdom advised him against provoking the wrath of a bride-to-be by dictating to Annie what she should do on a day that is typically such a massive deal to lady-folk.

Let it be known that I don’t normally use the term “lady-folk”, it just seemed appropriate to use it as it sounds like the parlance of medieval times.  I digress…

Turns out Annie is awesome and also wanted a kick ass medieval, Game of Thrones, awesome broadsword-fest of a wedding.  More on that later.

Before the wedding Adam needed to celebrate getting hitched to the girl that he is no doubt made for, by being as manly as possible.  A fellowship of seven noblemen made their way into the Floridian wilderness for two nights and and two days of drinking, fighting, eating, fire building, tree chopping, hiking, crocodile infested water swimming, puking, masculine mayhem.  We almost ran out of clean drinking water, it was extreme.  But we survived.  We are a band of brothers, bound together by the experience we shared in Myakka State Forest.  Or whatever.

74710001

74710002

74710003

74710004

74710005

74710006

74710007

74710008

74710009

74710010

There was a wedding to arrange, so we thought it would be best to get back to civilisation.  It looks like most of what we did to prepare involved sunglasses.

74710011

74710015

There follows a picture of a pretty okay location for a wedding.

74710014

74710013

What do you know about Doug tattoos?

74710012

The couple now known as Lord and Lady Berliner met many moons ago, when Annie the deer of house Troup pranced forth from Colorado towards the bear Adam, from house Berliner.  They dated for a time, and things went so well that a matrimonial union of their houses struck them as an excellent idea.  I was called on to be a groomsman, although the preferred term for this occasion was GROOM’S KNIGHT.  We knights were furnished with fine blades, and stood with Adam during the service, ready to fight off any blaggard that dared oppose the proceedings.   Nobody did dare, which is a relief because I didn’t want to have to kill a man.  The ceremony went off without a hitch.  We drank the king’s wine and also his beer.  And ate his fine BBQ foods.  And exquisite donuts.  And danced and made merry.  Pippin was there too.

Nine times out of ten themed weddings are totally cringeworthy, but the Deer and the Bear pulled it off.  And I’m not just saying that because I got a sweet dagger and drinking horn out of it.  I was there with my dagger, drinking the king’s spiced wine from my drinking horn and it just made sense.  Adam and Annie had a wedding that truly portrayed their wonderful characters; characters which would have been compromised if things had gone down any other way.

HAIL HOUSE BERLINER!

74710016

74710017

74710018

74710019

74710020

74710021

74710022

74710023

74710024

74710025

74710026

74710027

74710028

Disposable Horsell Common.

We tied a disposable camera to a tree again, look:

184490_356966167735602_2072483357_n

This time the tree was one of the several trees that can be found hanging out on Horsell Common, by the sandpits.  You know the place.

Those less fortunate souls who have never taken in the leafy, sandpitty, and a little bit lakey/pondy vistas of the place locals call “H-Comm”* are missing out.  Ignore how that sounds like a really terrible plug from the Woking tourist board and get yourselves down there as soon as you possibly can.  Afterwards, take a stroll into Woking town centre and marvel at the real live Martian that was excavated from the very sandpits pictured in the following pictures**.  I guarantee you’ll “ooh” and “aah” more than the punters at the annual Woking fireworks night***.

Thanks to everyone who overcame the fear of taking pictures on a camera that was tied to a tree and wrapped in plastic like some sort of creepy photographic equivalent of Laura Palmer.

74700001

74700025

74700024

74700023

74700022

74700021

74700020

74700019

74700018

74700017

74700016

74700015

74700014

74700013

74700012

74700011

74700010

74700009

74700008

74700007

74700006

74700005

74700004

74700003

74700002

*Nobody calls it this.

**This isn’t an accurate account of how the Martian got there.

***This won’t happen.  I hear it’s actually impossible to “ooh” and “aah” harder than the punters at the annual Woking fireworks night.

Disposable Iceland.

Better late than never, eh kids?!

Last year I went to Iceland Airwaves in Reykjavik.  I also learned how to spell Reykjavik correctly.  Both of these things really happened and I can’t decide which I’m more happy about.

Alright, I’m slightly more excited that I saw the otherworldly beauty of Iceland.  It was windy and it looked like we were on the moon (yeah, I’ve been there too so I can totally make that comparison…).

76178_344537152311837_1248589753_n

189927_344537172311835_138415681_n

1054_344537178978501_816488696_n

215907_344537205645165_1515877159_n

302789_344537225645163_994955940_n

65111_344537248978494_720083456_n

63697_344537268978492_1722748541_n

526940_344537282311824_784612772_n

73199_344537298978489_779355807_n

386521_344537328978486_1143953985_n

534162_344537338978485_1625777533_n

73202_344537365645149_1300333850_n

215930_344537372311815_605730470_n

305901_344537392311813_485347148_n

600198_344537408978478_132843386_n

74232_344537418978477_267675011_n

61632_344537498978469_413751014_n

401245_344537495645136_2002311999_n

305689_344537508978468_2069765897_n

600072_344537525645133_1683734122_n

224020_344537545645131_1650620313_n

486922_344537585645127_1338923202_n

198121_344537602311792_458245543_n

386442_344537608978458_1837609386_n

 

 

23896_344537615645124_2093305799_n

Disposable Twelves.

Yesterday was the twelfth of the twelfth of the twelfth.  12/12/12 is the last date of it’s kind (you know, when all the numbers are all spookily the same) that I’ll probably ever see.  That is unless there are some serious advances in medicine that keep me alive for another 90 something years, but I’m not mega-bothered about being around for that long.  Don’t worry, my kids and my kids’ kids will be handling tings on the Shot Simple front by then.  Don’t you wish you were leaving a legacy like this?  I’m well influential.

Anywho, the following collection of photos are a memento of what life was like the day that all the numbers were the same.  It was a day that was freezing cold, and a bit too dark to not use a flash (or at least that’s what I found out when I got these beauties developed).  It was the last day that I spent working at the same place as my good friend Kevin.  He’s going off to raise his firstborn son in rural Canada, and I’m pleased that these photos will remind me of him.  He’s a great guy.  It was also a day that I went to a rave and then fell asleep on the bus home and woke up at the end of the line/world, or Edmonton.  It was a good day. Except for the Edmonton bit, that place sucks.

00110001

00110002

00110003

00110004

00110005

00110006

00110007

00110008

00110009

00110010

00110011

00110012

00110013

00110014

00110015

00110016

00110017

00110018

00110019

00110020

00110021

00110022

00110023

00110024

00110025