Black men and ham

A lot of our blogs will involve London. It’s where we live and ultimately we want to be at the hub of some sort of London blogging mecca. The Morecombe and Wise of blogging.

But alas we are a long, long way from those echelons. Instead we must scrabble in the mire of mediocrity in the City. And here is something from London, which I have yet to work out is racist or not. It’s funny, though.

From a random email from some friend of a friend of a friend:

“Two days ago I was on the bus and smelt this bacon sandwich type smell. I looked around but couldn't see anything. The smell persisted so I looked directly behind me.

“And there he was - this little black bloke with a scrawny afro sitting there. He had on those stupidly big sunglasses all the women have been wearing the last two summers (it was night), and he was eating the biggest leg of ham I've seen in ages. Christ knows where he managed to buy about two kilo of hot ham, on the bone mind you, in Clapham Junction.

“Anyway it even had that big old white bone sticking out the end, just like in the comics when there was an african feast - the old comics from years ago, when racism wasn't a bad thing. It was like sitting in front of a bloody cannibal. Seemed to be enjoying it though, so fair enough, the nutter.”

London. So progressive yet so much like a Beano cartoon from the forties.