Sand between the toes

BLOG

Had an odd day on Wednesday - in London. It started off stalking disembarking bus passengers at an Oxford Park and Ride, seeking a parking space. It progressed to seeing some dishevelled bloke by the National Theatre, cradling his can of Stella amongst the most rubbish sand sculptures you've ever seen, inviting punters to lob money at him. So to the Tate Modern, and witnessing a Video Installation by Paul McCarthy. Jeez, that was stunning. I don't mean in a good way, I mean I was shell-shocked and aghast. That's the point of course. The security guards/attendants must have seen my face as I left, and thought - 'look, there's another one who has seen the McCarthy show'. Featured self-mutilation and worse.
So cut my losses and met my brother for a pint. Things picked up after that...

VERBLOG

Futurism - £11. St Paul's - £12. That's a hard call • 'There ain't no sugar in sausages, is there?' • The healing powers of Strawberry Jam • Not another new Dawn. The first was the worse. She was poison •

ADBLOG

It's OK. Not good, just OK.

HOMAGE À DUBSON

(get the phrase, stick it through a translator, and post.

Dunno why, seems to work)

Je ne serai pas en retard • Vous serez mort d'ici là • Il n'y avait aucun se tenir en arrière - ils l'ont juste battu à la mort. •

Vindictive beasts, and Brighton

BLOG

So I was hanging out my washing and this wasp started hassling me. I tried to gently waft it away. Kept hassling me. By co-incindence a mate told me 2 days ago how to deal with this. A wasp hovers mostly - not a fast mover. So you can clap your hands over it and kill it - it has no time to sting you. But I knew I couldn't bring mysef to do that, and so it proved. So I kept trying to waft it away then the vindictive little bastard stung me. I can't remember being stung before, but it hurt. Not only that, the beast was clever enough to creep into my t-shirt and sting me on the back of the neck! I must have looked like a madman leaping around the garden tearing my shirt off!

So what was the point of that? I was near the Apple Tree (no, not a Mac networking site, a real Apple Tree. You know, nature 'n' stuff) so maybe it thought I was invading it's food source. Little shit. Then I get back into the house and there's this wasp hovering over my cooker. May have been the same one, after seconds. So I clobbered it with the Observer Business section. What else could I do?

TRAVELBLOG

A day in London tomorrow.
Tube, Train, Drive, Bus?
It's fine being near London, then you look at the logistics of a day out and it's a frigging nightmare. I'll have 7 hours to kill while Dubson does whatever Dubson does. So thought I'd start at The Tate, go to St Pauls, read my book somewhere, then inevitably end up in a Pub watching England lose at football eating soup inna basket. And it will be pissing down, I expect.

ADBLOG

The work front is not too bad. Could be a lot better. You know who your friends are in these times. Stars, gems and sweetie-pies. I love them all. Not like the old crowd. Post Reformation TLC. Look it up.

VERBLOG

Grew a Courgette. Was it? Green thing • I didn't grow a Courgette. Given a pot and it grew. All of it's own accord. Everything else dies on me • Grew some Marigolds, but then they ended up looking like old blokes with faces like an unmade bed, all unkempt and wayward. A bit like my hair used to look. So I dug them up • You can't abuse a Pepper. You can abuse a Chicken, but not a Pepper • Fill - on. Keep - on. Edit - off. I'm not sure if I can be bothered to keep on doing this • Quote: [It started about 10 years ago, and now it's a real middle class retreat. Shit Pubs. Shit Atmosphere. They think that if they go there they'll all live in harmony away from the moths. It's such a Victorian idea. You can't hide like that. It's The Guardian's version of The Prisoner. They're so middle class they put pebbles on the beach so they don't get any sand between their toes. It's not a patch on Blackpool. That's the real seaside town.
It's the second Iron Circle, after London; you can't come in unless you're making £40,000 a year and you're a media puppet.
Blackpool, on the other hand, that's a great place to spend a holiday. There's no cultural elitism there, thank fuck. They've got some smashing chip shops as well. It gets a lot of stick for some odd reason. I think it's because it knows what it is - it's not striving to ape elsewhere. I like places that know themselves. Not like Brighton ... I'd rather have Riley in the band than live there] • Discuss •

HOMAGE À DUBSON

(get the phrase, stick it through a translator, and post.
Dunno why, seems to work)

Old Street Station est un grand, il se connecte au monde • Bon après-midi, où est mon petit-déjeuner? • Ainsi puis-je faire, papa? Puis-je? • Vous pensez encore que je suis comme, 5. •

Dogs and Hoops

BLOG

An odd day really. I'm thinking of moving soon, so I asked my landlord to confirm my terms of notice, my deposit conditions, and whether my payments are up to date - which they are. Then I get a phone message saying they have a potential tenant and can they come around to view the house! Whoa, hold on there! I still have 26 windows to strip & paint!

TRAVELBLOG

Get your motor runnin'
Head out on the highway
Lookin' for adventure
And whatever comes our way

ADBLOG

Think I have work in September - onwards and upwards.

VERBLOG

Can you teach an old dog new tricks? I think not, on todays evidence. I'll stroke it for a while, pat it's head and tell it 'you're a good boy', but if it continues to mope around, I'll have to take it outside ... it's not like I'm asking it to jump through hoops - I'm just asking it to acknowledge that the hoops exist! • Worst sentences - any starting with "The thing is..." Just lazy • Best sentences - any starting with "Dad," • Rain. It gives us life. Then it tips down and denies life to us. • "Ice Cream for Crows", "Bat Chain Puller" - How. Why. Because. Why not. •

HOMAGE À DUBSON

(get the phrase, stick it through a translator, and post.
Dunno why, seems to work)

Bien sûr que je suis adulte • pardon? • Que dis-tu? Pourquoi ne parlez-vous toujours dans le code? • Ainsi puis-je faire, papa? Puis-je? •

Love and Pride

BLOG

So hit Brighton this weekend and still recovering - it catches up on you, y'know? Happened to co-incide with the Pride Festival. As Charlie Brown would say - good grief. Not pretty. But caught up with some great people - you know who you are!

TRAVELBLOG

The wheels on the bus go round and round
Round and round, round and round
The wheels on the bus go round and round
All through the town.

ADBLOG

I must be mad. Trying to earn a living as a Cartographer. See www.dvdmaps.co.uk

VERBLOG

Festivals - pah! It's all pees, queues and punctuality. But I'm no good at colon control • Spittle sliding in the mire. Poppers, vodka jelly and cans of Carlsberg at £2 a throw. Da yoof, dem. Whappen? • Idle today. Idle tomorrow. Maybe I should try making bread. Start self loaving • She said "What did you do there?" She said "Did you see what i did there?" Preening • I've said it before and I'll say it one last time, 'coz it's the best pun I've ever heard - I'm unsure about the future, and I feel like a German vegetarian - I fear the Wurst • So what do you do when you know someone is lying to you? I mean, what do you do? •

HOMAGE À DUBSON

(get the phrase, stick it through a translator, and post.

Dunno why, seems to work)

Je suis une créature de la nuit • Il a rien à faire avec l'aéroport, papa • Début de nuits sont ennuyeux pour les personnes •