It’s Art innit?

I’ve had a friend visiting this weekend up from Somerset…….yes the temptation is there to sing I’ve got a brand new combine harvester…………but we don’t…she’s originally from Yorkshire…..but interestingly she doesn’t own a flat cap…hmmm

I digress

Yesterday we decided to go up to South Bank arguably the best spot in London for a wee Saturday afternoon walk and ended up at the Tate Modern. Nice bit of art on a Saturday afternoon……bit of culcha and all that.

WTF people can literally get away with anything in the name of art….I love the explanations next to each piece…..

Artist: Boris Fuckyouover, Title: explorations of the mind…….er….hang on……..no it’s not it’s two plastic brains one of which has a hammer sticking out of it………..

Artist: Jemima Puddleduck, Title: embankment……..no it’s 4000 white plastic boxes piled up that look like a factory warehouse….twats………

As for Pablo Fucking Picasso……………no really………….Title: Woman with necklace crying……………..yes she’s crying because she’s seen the fucking painting you’ve done of her…..what you cant draw curves? Do you really have to do every painting with a ruler and set-square? Twat. I hate Picasso………….but it appears I am the only one, for sat on the floor in front of each one with HUGE sheets of paper and some crayola crayons was some unwashed, multi-coloured scarf wearing, knit your own sandals, arse lovingly copying his ‘master piece’.

I swear it was like the Emperors New Clothes with some of it…… men with corduroy jackets and stroking their little beards ‘hmming’ and talking to grey haired, flowing skirts women about the depth of the ‘installations’ Twats.

I quite enjoyed sitting out on the Balcony on the 2nd floor having a fag and looking out at night time London though…………...that’s art innit?

In The Industry I Now....

.....work in people have what's known as 'breakthroughs' or 'moments of clarity' well as I sit here I too have just had one.

I have realized just how lazy.....no no no....just how energy efficient I can be.

There's a load going round in the tumble dryer that have been washed and dried three times.

Is this because of my 'super woman' complex?.....noooooooo

Is this because I have some sort of out of proportion / OCD disorder relating to germs?....noooooo

Is this because the whites were just not white enough?.....nooooo

Nope, none of the above. It's because I keep forgetting to take the clothes out of the dryer and so they sit in there and get creased to fuck, so what do I do? I put them back into the washing machine then dry them JUST so I don't have to do any ironing.

And the winner of this year Domestic Goddess Award goes to........................

Who is....

...rachel? Hmm? Who is she?

Well I don't know either, but I have had a piece of paper with 'Rachel' and a telephone number sitting on my kitchen table for about 6 months.

Every now and then I raise my right fist into the air with a defiant cry of "I shall reclaim my kitchen table" so I clear the piles of 'to be dealt with' mail (when I say clear I mean put them into a pile next to the p.c. in another room)..........

........... I gather up the ever increasing pile of 'waiting to be paired' socks (yeah I gather them up and throw them away because I'm sick of waiting for the others to appear)............

.............I show no mercy to Action Man nor Dr X as I fearlessly snatch them up (mid-battle) and throw them into the Son's bedroom.........

....and there it is...the note......in my hand writing with the name 'Rachel' and a sodding telephone number.......


Do I throw it away? No


Do I 141 and call it? That would be too easy


No, instead what I do is say (to anyone or no-one) Who the hell is Rachel? Then I place it back on the table , under the fruit bowl, and leave it to put a bit of excitement into my life another day.



I had a life once.................

The Sharks Were Circling Beneath…….

…what a marvellous weekend. My mates wedding…..it was fantastic

People there I hadn’t seen for years, and whose names I could not remember …..everyone looking terribly grown up….the bride and groom entered the room together to the Jaws theme tune, there were sharks circling in the water, the BBC was there…..the local press was there……………screech……rewind…..

Sharks? BBC? Jaws theme tune? Local Press?

Yes, yes, yes and yes.

So my friends got married on a bridge over a shark tank in Brighton’s Sea Life Centre. It was very very cool. The BBC was there as they are making a documentary on alternative weddings…or something like that. The local press were there…..well I guess because it’s not everyday a couple get married in Brighton over the shark tank….in fact they were the first one’s to do it.

They had asked me to do a reading at their wedding as I had introduced them to each other….yeah! I thought. I’m fine with public speaking I was both honoured and thrilled to be asked. What they forgot to mention was that it was to be part of the wedding ceremony, not at the reception along with all the other speeches.

And so it was that I found myself on Saturday afternoon standing on a bridge, the sharks circling beneath me, trying not to cry (having blubbed my way through the preceding part of the ceremony) reading I’ll Be There by Louise Cuddon. It was wonderful.

The wedding reception was quite conventional, there were elderly relatives being fed foreign food (pasta) little girls looking pretty, the Son sucking helium out of every balloon he could find then filling the balloons with water and chasing the little girls with them……..there was Cinderella moment when all of the women’s 4 inch killer heels turned into trainers, the kilt wearing BF being asked if he was a true Scotsman – he is, the BF telling the kids that his Sporran was made out of kittens – it isn’t….and so on.

All in all a fabulous weekend…..