Latest news with #OWO
Time Out
16-07-2025
- Entertainment
- Time Out
The Spy Bar
While looking for the Spy Bar, I get lost. Which is, perhaps, the point. Located deep in the bowels of the glossy OWO and Raffles hotel complex – once the HQ of the Ministry of Defence – the Spy Bar trades heavily on its history. Yes, this is the building in which Ian Fleming worked and came up with the idea for James Bond, and they don't let you forget it. The basement bar is behind a door marked with a tiny 007 - it's easy to miss, and we do - twice. It was once a storage vault for the reports and papers of MI5 and MI6 agents, while the entrance lobby was once a guard room. Once inside, we're greeted as an 'agent', but thankfully, this isn't laboured upon. The Spy Bar isn't an immersive experience, but simply a very good place to drink a cocktail. Aside from the real Aston Martin sunk into the wall behind the bar, it's a relatively demure spot; painted brick walls, comfy velvet armchairs and a second room lined with cosy, private-ish booths just asking for a scandal of Profumo levels. It's dimly lit – so much so that a light has to be delivered to our table in order for us to read the menu – but it seems churlish to order anything but a Vesper martini. At £27, it's not cheap, but it is ridiculously smooth, and, when you're halfway finished, a smart, suited bartender will pour the dregs into a glass fresh from the freezer. An elite touch. Cocktails are all loosely themed around Bond and the storied building, with references to Churchill's prodigious booze intake (a 'Whiskey Mouthwash' pays tribute to his habit of knocking back Johnny Walker at 9am). Well worth a visit - if you can find it. Time Out tip Photography is verboten at The Spy Bar - you'll be given a sticker to pop over your camera lens on entry. So if you want a pic, do it at the door before you enter. Order this
Yahoo
07-07-2025
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
‘OWO - The Black & Yellow Show': Ice bath interview with Felix Nmecha
Special interview in the seventh episode of 'OWO - The Black & Yellow Show': Patrick Owomoyela talks to Felix Nmecha in an ice bath after training in Fort Lauderdale, there are fresh pictures from public training, and a Zoom call with Pascal Groß and Cameron Heyward from the Pittsburgh Steelers. You can watch the episode on Monday (June 30) from 6pm (CEST) on BVB's YouTube channel.
Associated Press
04-07-2025
- Business
- Associated Press
Who Owns the Frog memecoin Meta? $OWO Says: Ethereum Does
PANAMA CITY, PA / ACCESS Newswire / July 4, 2025 / Frogs are everywhere. Solana. Base. Even BNB. From $WEPE to $MIND, presales have raked in millions. The frog meta is printing again. But one chain was missing its community-run comeback: Ethereum. That is, until now. Enter $OWO - The Frog That Refused to Die Before the presales. Before the psyops. Before the million-dollar mints... There was $OWO - the original Discord meme. Left for dead. Rugged. Abandoned. Until June 2025, when CT stepped in and took it back. No stealth mint. No insider bags. No fake narrative. Just a raw ERC-20 frog token, now reborn and fully run by the community. The dev left - so the people, led by M0R84N, took over. No tax. No presale. No roadmap. Just frog and freedom. $PEPE Is King. But $OWO Owns the Comeback. Let's be clear: • $PEPE kicked off frog season and still rules the charts. • $WEPE and $MIND were masterclasses in hype and presale power. • Those teams made millions before launch. Good for them! But $OWO didn't mint millions - it earned trust. This technically isn't a new project. It's an old meme from 2016, with deep cultural roots. Saved by CTO devs, locked and re-launched with nothing but code, vibes, and conviction. ETH Was Missing Its CTO Frog Every chain got a frog this cycle. But Ethereum didn't get a community-ran one - not until now. • Solana's got otters and weird blobs. • Base has frogs with VC bags and insider games. • ETH now has $OWO - no fluff, no leash, 100% frog power. Not a derivative. Not a theme. Not a grift. A meme. A community. A resurrection. Why $OWO Hits Different • Original 2016 frog emote energy (spam it, you already do) • True CTO takeover - community devs saved the token • 100% ERC-20 purity • No tax. No tricks. No presale dumpers • Born in Discord, now on-chain (and TG) where it belongs Official Links Chart: X: Join the community: The Bottom Line $PEPE is king. $WEPE and $MIND made serious bank. But $OWO? $OWO is ETH's redemption frog. The frog that was abandoned. Then resurrected. Now thriving - with zero tax and maximum vibe. Get ready for Eth Frog Summer! Don't fade $OWO. About Assimilate Corp Assimilate Corp is a Panama-based organization focused on enabling and supporting decentralized, community-driven blockchain initiatives. With a strong belief in transparency, open innovation, and the power of collective ownership, Assimilate Corp plays a key role in facilitating ecosystem growth without centralized control. As the project behind this initiative operates under a community takeover model, there is no single founding entity. Instead, OWO functions as the Chief Takeover Organization (CTO), managing governance and direction, while Assimilate Corp acts as the official media and communication partner. For all press inquiries, public updates, and strategic collaborations, Assimilate Corp serves as the primary point of contact. Contact Details: Company Name: Assimilate Corp Website: Location: Panama City, Panama, Central America Email: [email protected] SOURCE: Assimilate Corp press release
Times
02-05-2025
- Politics
- Times
Matthew Parris: My night sleeping in Churchill's War Office
Half a century ago I arrived in Whitehall as a young Foreign Office recruit. The building was tremendous, befitting a nation's once-confident imperial pomp. The decor of the state rooms breathed grandiosity — so long as you kept your eyes raised. Lower your gaze and you saw grubby taps, charladies filling buckets, and clerks wheeling trollies piled with dog-eared files down endless corridors. As an efficient office block for modern government the place was in the wrong century. Some proposed knocking it down. They wanted to do that — unbelievably — to much of Whitehall. The 19th-century world of clerks and formality has long gone. In its place, in another of those old state buildings a stone's throw from the Foreign Office, has come… well, something astonishing. Imagine a lavish makeover, a billion pounds or so invested in an almost reverential adaptation, with top-of-the-range restaurants and bars, and state rooms where portraits of former statesmen gaze down on mahogany four-poster beds, silk curtains and velvety carpets. Like a dream of past glories, recreated for a generation whose world is anything but glorious. Last week I spent a night in that dream. Whitehall's Old War Office — 'OWO' — is the place where, when I began at the Foreign Office, spies were reputed to keep company and the military top brass still met to mull the twists and turns of the Cold War. From its design at the turn of the 19th century and then for more than a century, the OWO corridors were paced by the likes of Asquith, Kitchener, Lloyd-George, Churchill, Slim, Eden and Profumo — a who's who of leadership in war and peace. This is where a young Winston Churchill addressed staff from a marble balcony in the First World War and where orders for D-Day were finalised in the Second. A vast palace built in Edwardian baroque style, with a sweeping staircase designed so that officers in riding spurs would not trip, and acres of luxurious panelling that took a sizeable proportion of the forests of Empire to create. Domes and turrets soar, ceilings reach to the heavens, heavy doors with brass locks clunk satisfactorily. The views from the windows even now are of Guards on horseback across the road, and the Banqueting House from which Charles I stepped to his execution in 1649. It's at the epicentre of our nation's history. And now, very discreetly, it has become a hotel of impeccable style. Apparently it took eight years to finish the conversion, longer than it took to build the OWO in the first place. Few of us frequenting Westminster had even noticed it happening. At least on the outside. But I've now walked inside to a world I'm utterly unaccustomed to — and would indeed be unable to afford. 'Good afternoon, Mr Parris, I'm your butler,' said Mateusz Wojakowski, capable and welcoming, making no comment on my tattered old rucksack, and leading my partner and me down mosaic-floored corridors into a set of rooms that would make even a prince blush. There was a vast bed, the finest linens, chandeliers and a sitting room stacked with antiques. And the bathroom! The size of a small church, with a vast polished brass bath, gleaming gold on a plinth where an altar might rest. The Haldane Suite must be the grandest room in the grandest hotel in one of the grandest cities on Earth (although, I'm told, the Granville Suite, with its wooden panelling and almost cathedral-style bedroom, is even more glorious). It became Churchill's office when he was secretary of state for war from 1919-21. The high, arching stucco ceilings are original, the great fireplaces even older, brought from the military command's original offices in houses on Pall Mall. The art on the walls comes from the private collection of the Hinduja family, who funded the new hotel. The three vast rooms run from one to the other in what the owners of stately homes call an enfilade — from bed to bath in a spectacular progression. The suite has been named after the reforming secretary of state for war — a Liberal MP and philosopher — but even this moderniser would have been astonished by the technology now slipped, almost invisibly, into his old offices. Curtains close at the touch of a tablet, subtle lighting dims and brightens, and a hidden enclave hides a bar, tucked in silent sliding draws. The bed is vast, the sheets perfect, the carpet deep, and the room, despite Whitehall outside, silent. I've rarely slept better. The price (had I paid it) is embarrassing — the luxury almost too much to take in. I had quietly expected the whole thing might be a bit flash, and I'd be able to tease the world's super-rich for their ostentation. But no. I have to report that the restoration is elegant and respectful, the regard for history spot on and even the pillows (I'm fussy about pillows) just the right balance between thin and puffy. My only regret was the walk through the suite to the loo, which seemed to take about ten minutes. I slept better than anyone deserves to in what was apparently once the office of the chief of the imperial general staff. I could almost hear him harrumphing at the impertinence. Dinner in the Mauro Colagreco restaurant was a succession of luxuriant flavours: Scottish langoustine and shellfish in lime-heavy leche de tigre, with strips of kohlrabi; radish and poached scallops fresh and tangy — a world away from the overcooked steak and caviar I'd supposed oligarchs want. Before padding back to my imperial suite there was time for a Vesper Martini in the Spy Bar, deep in the basement, photography banned, and an Aston Martin behind the counter. Somehow even this seemed more authentic than showy. There's hardly space here to tell you about the vast swimming pool buried deep underground, or the turret with a view over half of London … It was time to hang up my hotel dressing gown, pick up my plasticky rucksack and head out, past the limousines, into real life at Embankment Tube around the corner. I have never really associated extravagance with good taste. Here was both. Though what Lord Kitchener would have thought of two gentlemen together in a bed in his office, heaven only knows. The Haldane Suite begins at £16,000,
