There was this day, in Oxford, when I was looking for stuff to photograph, and Jeremy had the bright idea of photographing some of her pet dinosaurs and Godzilla monsters on location. So out we went, she armed with pockets full of plastic reptiles, and I with a rucksack full of cameras.
It seemed that every time we found a suitable location, the sun would dive behind a cloud, and it'd start siling with rain. Thus we spent about half the day shopping or sheltering in pubs. Now the only place to keep something the shape of a plastic pterodactyl is in one's inside pocket, so every time Jeremy tried to pay for anything, out would come the pterodactyl.
And so it was that on this day that we finally solved the mystery of the dinosaurs - it wasn't a virus or climate change or a giant meteorite that finished them off. They just ceased to be legal tender.
