Wherein a handful of Brits wage war on the ills of contemporary society, armed only with sarcasm, hugs and a megaphone:
The Canary Wharf security team – or “fake police”, as they’re called here – don’t look happy at all. Particularly when they’re on the receiving end of the hugs.

It’s Monday. It’s been one of those days. Let’s not even try to talk about anything sensible.
Have this instead:

I love it when people get the idea to do a loopy little project like this and then actually do it. Bravo.

I went to the Isles of Scilly a little while ago. While I was there, I was struck by how weirdly tranquil it was. A world apart from the mainland, a mere 20 minute helicopter flight away. And that bit of the mainland is Penzance, a gorgeous fishing town. Hardly the Bronx.
It took me ages [...]