Saturday, 28 August 2010
This is apparently my 111th All Ears illustration for The Guardian Please wash your hands after reading / looking
(Article by Michael Holden)
Despite subconscious attempts to repel them, two men, both talking on telephones, sat across from me on the train. When they had hung up, one of them said he had to go to the toilet, as though the excitement of telling people over the phone that he was on a train was more than he could bear. When he came back though, his face was ashen.
Man 1 "Alright?"
Man 2 "It's dreadful in there."
Man 1 "They're never as bad as they used to be."
Man 2 "They are. The only difference is that these days, disabled people get to see how bad they are as well."
Man 1 "Maybe it was disabled people who messed it up?"
Man 2 "Either way …"
Man 1 "I best not go then. I'm getting really uptight about hygiene
these days. If it's that bad, it could push me over the edge."
Man 2 "The edge of what?"
Man 1 "Reason. The other day I took extra paper towels from a dispenser, and wrapped them around my hand before I opened the door."
Man 2 "It's all this MRSA gel, it makes you paranoid."
Man 1 "I'm more worried about becoming obsessively hygienic than I am about getting sick. I did that paper towel without knowing I'd done it. It was only after I'd come out of the bathroom that I realised what I'd done. I thought, 'This is how it starts, you're becoming like Howard Hughes.'"
Man 2 "Without the money."
Man 1 "He used to horde his piss in jars."
Man 2 (after some consideration) "What did his wife say."
Man 1 "I don't think he had one."
Saturday, 21 August 2010
I'd just like to point out that I'm extremely fond of giraffes & other aminals & I do not condone the shooting of them - this is only a picture IT'S NOT REAL!*
(*subtitled for the hard of thinking)
(Article by Michael Holden)
As is often acknowledged in this column, cab drivers are the commandos of casual conversation; the rest of us are just parachuting in when the groundwork's been done. I had the good fortune last week to be sat near one in a cafe as he shared stories of his fares' safari antics with his friends.
Man 1 "I been busy bringing the Americans in and out, been a few years now. I know some of them quite well."
Man 2 "What are they like?"
Man 1 "All right, well there's one I thought was all right. He was telling me how he likes to shoot things … animals. He goes over to Africa and has a go at anything that moves."
Man 2 "That still happens?"
Man 1 "Very much so. I'm not one to judge, but then he says he's getting hammered for freight costs, cos he flies all these things back over there and has 'em stuffed!"
Man 2 "Yeah?"
Man 1 "Oh yeah. I said, 'How does your wife feel about that?' And this is what really got to me, he says: 'She loves it. Her life's ambition is to shoot a giraffe.'"
Man 2 "A giraffe?"
Man 1 (solemn) "A giraffe."
Man 2 "I don't get it. At what point in someone's life would they wake up in the morning and say, 'I know what I need to do before I die. I know what's been missing. I got to shoot me a giraffe!'"
Man 3 "What's the psychology behind that? Is she really small?"
Man 2 "That could be it."
Man 3 "Or is it that their heads are small, and a long way away?"
Man 1 "A fucking giraffe, though?"
Man 2 "Unbelievable."
Monday, 16 August 2010
Saturday, 14 August 2010
This week's illustration gives you a priviledged window into my own grooming methods(ish)
(I'm sure there was also a a 'gentleman's pornographic pamphlet' entitled 'Shaven Havens' but I might have just made that up - no prizes for guessing the content!)
(article by Michael Holden)
I don't know whether the regulars in the library have started using aftershave or are just drinking it. Either way, in warm weather this new-found aroma can make it tough to share a table with them. With a prevailing wind though, anything's possible, and the other day I heard this confession of idle folly.
Man 1 (staring at an magazine advert) "I shaved off all my body hair."
Man 2 (not especially surprised) "When was this?"
Man 1 "Few years back. Seemed like a good move."
Man 2 "Was it?"
Man 1 "Not really. It was something to do though. Watching it grow back. It kept me out of trouble."
Man 2 "I hear that."
Man 1 "They just give you the one razor, and they toss it away after. I just thought, go for it, you know. Seize the moment."
Man 2 "Did anyone complain?"
Man 1 "No, they just sort of looked at me. Of all the things you can do with a razor … well, they see worse, I reckon."
Man 2 "Did you cut yourself at all?"
Man 1 "No, I stayed with the grain. You know, the way the hair's growing. It was tough around the knees. I remember that."
Man 2 "How did it feel?"
Man 1 "For a while it felt good. Really clean, like brand new. Then it was like a big rash, and then, you know, a ton of stubble. All itchy and messed up. My skin's an issue at the best of times."
Man 2 "Would you do it again?"
Man 1 "No. Not unless someone asked me too. And there'd have to be a reason."
Man 2 "A lesson learned, then."
Man 1 "Absolutely. Very much so"
Thursday, 12 August 2010
Yesterday David Quantick tweeted that watching Kiss was 'like watching clowns at war' & this morning in the coffee shop round the corner was a series of clown based prints - I took this as a sign...
Maybe a new reality series? (are you listening Channel 5 - or is the sound of barrels being scraped already too deafening?)
Monday, 9 August 2010
Introducing the Morphy Richards Memento Mori toaster© - for those bleak 'gazing-at-your-own-mortality-screaming-why?-why?-why?' breakfast moments
More toast? Go to here as well
Saturday, 7 August 2010
This week's illustration is brought to you by the 'Carry On Book Of Hospital Waiting Room Clichés'...
(Article by Michael Holden)
On first inspection, the local surgery appears to have a good selection of magazines. It's only when you try to read them that you discover half the people in the waiting room were born after they came out. Having perhaps learned the same lesson, a man near to me refused an offer of a Woman's Weekly from his wife, recoiling so visibly that you wondered if such a pathological reaction was why they had come.
Woman "What's up?"
Man "I just … I can't look at 'em any more."
Woman (wearily) "Oh yeah, I forgot."
Man "They're full of … well, it's just shit, isn't it?"
He nodded toward the one she was reading.
Man "'Halle Berry's custody battle.' I mean, who cares, really? What good is that to you or me?"
Woman "I like her."
Man "That's not the point ..."
Woman (quickly) "Don't read it then."
Man "I don't. That's the thing. You turn your back on all that and pretty soon you don't know who's who. I quite like it. The bliss of ignorance. I looked at one the other day and I didn't recognise anyone. I felt sort of free. In the end there was a picture of Ruby Wax – I recognised her. I was quite pleased to see her. And I used to hate Ruby Wax."
Woman (not looking at him) "Yeah?"
Man (after a pause) "What's up with Halle Berry's kids then?"
Woman "Shut up and I may find out."
Man "I don't feel so well."
Woman (with extreme prejudice) "Don't you bloody start!"
He looked at me for consolation. I couldn't meet his gaze.
Friday, 6 August 2010
Wednesday, 4 August 2010
The '70s Sitcom Homosexuals - conceived as a high art / low art post-post ironic performance art / conceptual electronica project - ended up sounding like below par Berlin-era David Bowie with all the good bits taken out (with more songs about alienation, robots & vending machines*.)
*see also Gary Numan
Tuesday, 3 August 2010
Wherein the beats can range from 400 bpm down to 1-2 beats in a 24 hour period rendering it 'well jittery!' There are unconfirmed reports of Random Thud club nights lasting for several months