Where the Hell am I?

In case you were wondering, I am currently in the wilds of Fenly Norfolk hopefully trying to find the remains of places like this:

That was actually on the Isle of Grain, in Kent, but the old M&GN lines across the Norfolk/Lincolnshire flatlands had a similar feel, and I'm spending a few days tramping through the cold and clingy mists trying to find the remains of the some of the M&GN's western section stations.

Here, for example, in the tiny village of Wisbech St Mary, where a tantalising glimpse of an old M&GN platform shelter can be glimpsed between two hideous modern "executive-style luxury homes" that were built on the site of the station lands:

Note the emblematic name of the street -- very droll, but historically unaccurate (most of the M&GN was closed to passengers long before Dr Beeching had anything to do with British Railways).

God, I love my life.

Happy Christmas

One of my favourite-ever models in a vaguely festive shot.

What do you mean, that's not festive? The sofa's red, an obvious sign of Christmas, there are some sort of streamer decoration things over his left shoulder, and if I'm not mistaken that's a Christmas tree to the left of the shot.

See?

Day dreaming

Well, now, how delicious is this fine-looking chap, all studly, manly, studliness?

Too few porno art models are of this chunky build...

There is something hugely powerful about his physique.

He exudes a sense of virile muscularity, all muscley goodness.

He has a rather lovely winkie, too.

In fact, I would say pretty much everything about him looks (and probably tastes) delicious. Yes, indeedy.

Feeling my way

I like massages, but I have to say no masseur has ever suggested we adopt this position:

Which is a bit of a shame, actually, since this looks rather relaxing.

Although I think technically the massagee is not meant to participate in the massage like this.

Such niceties are for pedants. Yeah, I wonder if I can find someone who'll do this...?

Weirdness of the Age

I stumbled across this delightful image of a wonderful model in a photographer's online portfolio:

The photographer notes, in some despair, how the overwhelming majority of comments left on this image are sneering remarks about the modest size of the model's winkie.

I am mystified: this man is, for me, staggeringly sexy.

Libraries rule

Canada Water is a depressing hell-hole in one of the more blighted parts of London, a place where modern "regeneration" has produced such magnificent buildings as can be seen in the back of this shot:

Until recently, the only vaguely civilised new building in the area was London Underground's new station for the Jubilee Line extension, but this is one of the less successful buildings on that otherwise rather excellent project:

It tries to capture the glorious loveliness of Charles Holden's 1930s Arnos Grove station, but here it is blown up to bombastic proportions and the external form bears no relationship to the internal movements the station is designed to channel -- even if the light can be intriguing for photographers, it is just architectural form for the sake of it:

Now, to provide welcome relief from the assorted low-rent warehouse retail outlets, Southwark Council has built a brand-new library just opposite the station. And rather daringly they chose Piers Gough of CZGW to design it (a man whose oeuvre, until now, I've not had much time for):

It looks willfully perverse but the shape is rational: the site was too small for the floor space needed, so Gough cantilevered the upper floors out over the water of the old docks and the surrounding footpaths.

Inside, there is a sense of civic pride -- and a rather daring homage to the circular form of Stockholm's public library from which, ironically, Holden derived inspiration for his Arnos Grove station...

The exterior is also serious, notwithstanding the playfulness of the shapes. The materials are intriguing:

When I visited, the library was packed with people borrowing and reading books, and browsing the internet...

This is the first building I've seen in this part of town which speaks seriously of regeneration and civic values, adding something to the public realm rather than subtracting from it.

Siberian winkie

My favourite pornographer has been at it again -- with a Russian athlete.

There is something wonderfully self-contained about his expressions.

... the ease with which he lives in his body...

Although I guess most of us could live easily in this body.

I think my pornographer was smitten: this is one of the few series he has produced where it feels like the subject's mask never slips. But I really don't mind.

Rebuilding

Intense commercial competition has sometimes given us rather wonderful things -- like the two London railway termini that sit side-by-side on the Euston Road -- St Pancras and King's Cross.

Of the two, St Pancras, the younger, is more often feted today, the wonderful trainshed roof having recently been beautifully restored:

However, on the back a, to my eyes, wildly inappropriate (and also rather impractical) extension has been added on by Norman Foster and partners, a testimony to the rubbish that that practice can produce:

Meanwhile, its older companion sits opposite, no fancy frivolities here, the Great Northern designed it as a massive engineering statement, the two train sheds being expressed on the main elevation by two massive semi-circular windows:

After years of total neglect, King's Cross is undergoing a massive refurbishment. The first part of the restored trainshed roof has now been wonderfully revealed -- King's Cross will once again be a place of enormous light:

All of the crap in front of it will be swept away and a huge new concourse is currently under construction (the semi-circular space in the plan at the top of this post). The passageway from the trainshed to the new concourse can now be tantalisingly glimpsed behind and above the hoardings:

Here's an external view -- an enormous bowl, filling the space between the old Great Northern Hotel (which is behind the "mace" sign) and the original trainshed walls to the left:

Inside, the roof of that bowl looks like it's going to be quite extraordinary:

On a very overcast day, look at the way light plays on the roof structure and washes down onto the original Victorian side walls at the back:

I think Norman Foster's extension is going to look even worse when John McAslan and Partners' King's Cross concourse is finished. I can't wait to see it.

Willy triplet

An immensely kind reader has sent me a triplet of this lovely, lovely man:

He has one of the loveliest willies ever to feature on Adventures in Beige:

I am in awe of it. Really.

Blimey. Anyone have an email address for this model? I'm serious...

Will power

I've mentioned before the British Rail Class 17, otherwise known as the Clayton Type 1, a delightful diesel-electric Bo-Bo:

Despite its rather lovely looks, this machine has some claim to being the least successful design of diesel locomotive ever to operate in Britain. More than 100 were built from the mid-1960s, and they were all scrapped by about 1970.

Well, all except one, actually, which went on to have a very successful life as a privately-owned industrial shunter, before entering preservation (which suggests BR never learned how to manage them). It now runs on the Princes Risborough and Chinnor Railway.

It's been wonderfully repainted into its original colours, a rather lovely two-tone green livery. In my fantasy world, the M&GN was not destroyed and, instead, fleets of these operated the freight and local services across Norfolk, Cambridgeshire and Lincolnshire, replacing the unglamorous Ivatt 4MT steam engines...

I have a couple (maybe a few more, I haven't counted) of Heljan's 00 Class 17 models, but ... there's now an O gauge model by JLTRT. Unfortunately it's only sold as a kit, and here's a photo of someone's lovely machine in the course of construction:

I really, really want one of these, but... it's O gauge, which means it's huge (nice!), and which means I'd need a whole new set of track, electrical gubbins and, of course, stuff for it to haul...

Oh, but I really want one.

How long before I crack, do you think?