Crossing over Horn Lane I noticed that its sign had, as usual, been defaced so as to read Horny Lane. Yet again it brought a smile to my face, it was just the kind of childish, immature thing that I found really funny, the kinda thing which made me go hee hee, ha ha. God knows why that should be the case but it was a simple fact that when I saw a Y placed at the end of the Horn I would find it hard not to crack up, hard not to have a right old giggle and momentarily think the world was a better place. Strange thing was that Horn Lane did not look like a horny kind of lane at all, instead it was just a typical road in Woodford, ram packed with parked cars, lined with vastly overpriced detached and semi detached houses. There were no bushes, no hidden pathways onto open fields at the back, nothing whatsoever which might encourage those who were into a bit of hanky panky to hank hang pank around there of an evening. Continue reading “Horny Lane” →