The latest blog buster!!!
The new pad in Portugal used to be a shop.
A plan is forming in the empty expanse that used to house my brain, to open an art gallery in Cellar 1. “Daddy Papersurfer’s Cellar Full of Stuff” has a ring of success written all over it.
There is enough space there to create innovative, wonderful objects. And then display them.
Open by invitation only …. obviously.
If nothing else it can be used as a mausoleum at the appropriate time.
Oh, yes, it’s all about me.
It’s been one year since I last tasted tobacco.
I’m yet to be convinced that the benefits outweigh the drawbacks as I sit here surrounded by e-cigarettes with my arms, legs and forehead covered in nicotine patches. There are truths and lies within this sentence -#interestingpsychologicaltest
I think I need some jeopardy in my life. Perhaps I’ll start wearing purple. Perhaps I’ll slug water from a bottle when driving. Perhaps I’ll eat some Quavers. Perhaps ….
There is no black or white, only shades of grey.
I casually stabbed an apple with a screwdriver, held it aloft and said to the apple of my eye “Take a piccy.”
Without a word she complied and then wandered back to her throne.
I thought I heard a slight sigh but it might just have been the sofa welcoming her return.
I think Magritte would have approved.
It would appear that I’ve run dry for the time being.
My mind is occupied with other VERY IMPORTANT issues at the moment so I’m following the advice of Mr Colton … (well you can’t argue with a chap who went to Eton … can you?)
“When you have nothing to say, say nothing.” CHARLES CALEB COLTON
I’m just popping out, I’m not going far,
I wonder where my car keys are?
Beside the bed?
Inside the shed?
I’m finding all this very bizarre.
This is going to drive me quite mad,
Today is beginning to go real bad -
Now I’ve looked by the sink
And I’m starting to think
I’ll have to resort to trying an ad.
Oh no, I’ve just had a thought
Of what I was wearing– I’m distraught!
The trews I last wore
Have pockets galore
Oh how I wish they’d never been bought.
OK, I’ve checked the left leg,
Found a mouldy half eaten scotch egg.
I’m onto the right,
Not a key-ring in sight -
A penny, a sweet and a yellow clothes peg.
Only a couple more places to try,
Left buttock, right knee and the fly.
Now just the hips,
Eww, soggy chips!
No luck I fear – I’ve a tear in my eye.
I’ll just go and check out the floor of the car,
Crisp packets, some gum, and a Cuban cigar.
HEY! From this position,
I can see the ignition,
With keys in – they glint like a bright shiny star!
Well that’s it; I’m obviously losing my mind,
Time to submit to being confined,
The white coats will come,
I’ll just suck my thumb,
I’ll just have to hope that the nurses are kind.
There is a roundabout on Hastings sea front that is causing quite a kerfuffle. Please read about it here.
We now have the stick-in-the-muds who just want the rather sad looking fountain renovated and that can only be used when it isn’t windy because in those conditions cars using the roundabout think they’re in a carwash and we have David Kowitz sounding more than a little dismayed about the whole sorry affair because no-one wants the 2nd hand sculpture on offer from the Fairlight Arts Trust. I believe that Mr Kowitz is American and therefore English is not his first language so his use of the word ‘garbage’ might not have been intentionally very rude.
Anyhoo the different sides seem to be squaring up to achieve the result that absolutely nothing will be achieved accept resentments, cultural divides and fodder for the media of course. Therefore I feel that I should come up with a suggestion and save the day.
I’d commission a local steel fabricator to make a gigantic traditionally shaped lobsterpot which would be a true representation of the history of Hastings leading right up to now and it would also reference the shape of the fountain that exists at the moment.
I would then ask our local town sculptor, Leigh Dyer, …
Sculpture by Leigh
… to make two lobsters like this …
… this for instance, to pop in the pot. BTW these images of lobster sculptures were just nicked off the interweave to show the different directions the works could go in.
This would sit very nicely on the roundabout, would be see-through for drivers for safety reasons, be very low maintenance, be pretty vandal and water proof and be appreciated by all ends of the Hastings cultural spectrum.
Hastings is a fascinating town peopled by a mixture of the bucket-and-spade brigade, the cultural vultures, the young, the old, the stuffed shirt and the let-it-all-hang-out. I believe that my idea, or something similar, could straddle this complicated population and become well loved by the vast majority. *drops a curtsy and devours a gingernut*
I avoid Georgina at number 20,
Although she’s a member of the cognoscenti
And she’s interesting and likes to rabbit,
Conversation’s hampered by her painful habit.
Points are made with her walking cane
With prods and pokes that all cause pain,
And if she’s in the mood ‘irate’
Survival depends on armour plate.
So I take care when going for walks
My eyes are skinned and out on stalks
And if I should see her in my path
I sprint back home and hide in the bath.