See if you can match the following captions with the images taken last weekend in Bristol, which I was visiting to enjoy the St Werburghs Festival:

1. A reveller outside the Minor’s Arms flounced off his binge on ecstasy pipes (or horse tranquilliser). He carries in his pocket a book entitled: “How to fossilise your hamster”

2. An unusual and ghostly close friend of mine guarding two teacups of cider brandy on top of St Werburghs hill at 5AM

3. A witty graffito drawing an analogy between the hysteria or jaundiced consumerism of popular culture and current political events

4. A shopkeeper’s attempt to con some Gloucester Road shopper into a purchasing a lame and tatty item on the basis of endearing humour

5. A remnant of clothing being attacked by a rogue element of road-marking.

6. “Bringing down the system / sticking it to the man”

If you do manage to solve this brainteaser, then send me your answers and I will see if I can bring myself to read them.

I am in Bristol involved in a nutty bit of DIY. I am with my friend Jack attaching some Edwardian cupboard doors which he found in a skip to a bike shed.

This is Jack’s knife rack. Eagle-eyed readers may have noticed the machete on the end. Welcome to Jack’s house.

UPDATE: the finished thing. I thought I’d better upload a nice picture seeing as in the previous one, let’s face it, the shed looked a bit shit.

This is the element of a heater in the One-Stop Thali restaurant in Bristol. The One-Stop Thali, for those of you who don’t know it, is a kitsch little indian diner in the heart of a pretty area in Bristol called Montpelier.

Montpelier ‘came up’ a few years back, mainly due to the influx of students who wanted a bohemian alternative to Clifton, with a a strong community feeling (and was not quite as dodgy as St Paul’s). I don’t know what the people who already lived in the area felt about this influx. But I can guess. Now the area is being invaded by young professionals, due to the grand regeneration of Bristol city centre. I believe the bohemians are quite unhappy about this invasion of outsiders.

Anyway, I was having breakfast in the Thali one grey hungover morning, and I liked the look of this warm glowing honeycomb, which was the only source of heat in the room. You can imagine what the other breakfasters thought of me photographing and filming a rotating heater. I can suggest: ‘idiot’; ‘retard’; ‘fucking outsider’; or a combination of the above.

The hangover was caused by my friend Ollie’s house party, summarized in this photo:

There is grass under the sofa. Not because someone had lugged furniture into the garden, no. Ollie had gone to the trouble of turfing his bedroom, for some reason. I think there was a sports theme to the party and Ollie wanted his bedroom to be like Wimbledon.