“The man who is tired of Oxford Street in Leedy is tired of life,” no-one said ever. Although I do miss 130. I once saw Basil Zempilas there in a pair of fresh-out-of-the-box white thongs. Here’s another shot from last Saturday night’s boulevarding by the Flangemaster and me (there are more to come!). I wondered at the time if it was Not Worst, but TLA was still muttering angrily after not being able to scale the fence around a viewing platform further back towards the Stirling end. I also had no luck trying to convince him to label Oxford Street as Neasden-in-the-Sun here. 
