Monday, 23 June 2008
Hmmm...had to draw cuckoo clocks in two separate jobs this week...must be something in the air!
In a department store I queued for the till behind two men-colleagues on their lunch break I assumed-who were buying some lamps. As we waited for the lone employee to return from some errand I could see one of the men eyeing the display of clocks on the nearby wall.
Man 1: “My old man’s got a cuckoo clock.”
Man 2: “Eh?”
Man 1: “Yeah, my dad’s got a cuckoo clock.”
Man 2 (baffled): “What like, and a cuckoo actually comes out of it.”
Man 1: “Yeah, the whole deal.”
Man 2: “Had he been to Switzerland or something?”
Man 1 “No, no. He’ll have got it from somewhere in Hull. It’s not even much of a cuckoo. It’s just like a beak that comes out.”
Man 2 “You’ve had a proper look at it then?”
Man 1 “Oh yeah. I was round there with me daughter just after he got it. He says to her, ‘At five O’clock a little bird will come out.’ And I say, ‘It’ll cuckoo five times.’ Anyway, five O’clock comes and the thing goes nuts, keeps coming up, my daughter wants to know what’s going on. Then I’ve realized, it’s on 24 hour whatnot.”
Man 2 “So it’s come out 17 times?”
Man 1 “Aye. But I wanted to be sure. So I waited for an hour to see if it came out 18 times, but my dad said something to me and I lost count.”
Man 2 “So what did you do?”
Man 1 “Well I wasn’t hanging about for another hour, but I figure that must be what’s going on.”
Man 2 “That must drive your dad mental.”
Man 1 “He’s alright. He’s in bed by nine.”
Article by Micheal Holden
Wednesday, 18 June 2008
Saturday, 14 June 2008
This week I just wanted to concentrate on the 'dog-on-string-soap-dodger' angle as I've been on the end of so many worthy but absolutely clueless self righteous rants from folk addled on cheap cider & cock awful 'tribal psy-trance' bollocks!
the article follows...
I was in a café sat adjacent to two girls and man in their mid twenties who would once have been described as “crusties,” though they presumably now enjoy some more contemporary title. Either way, matted hair and willful squalor was the overall vibe as they discussed their disappointment following a recent charity event.
Woman 1: (annoyed) “All that money at the gig that they collected they said it was going to Africa, right? That was the whole point.”
Woman 2: “Yeah, that was the whole point, right?”
Man: (quite exited at the thought of some wrongdoing) “No-you’re gonna tell us they nicked it?”
Woman 1: “No, but get this. They flew there on a plane! They got three returns to Africa out of it.”
Woman 2:(sensing something wrong in this but unable to find words to express exactly what) “Wah!”
Woman 1 “Yeah, so they got there and then it turns out they were just taking them art supplies, no food!”
Woman 2 “What, like pens ands things?”
Woman 1 “You know what I’m saying? This is Africa innit, take some tins. Take art supplies but come on, get your priorities sorted, take some food too.”
Man (forming what he evidently assumed was a lucid vision of the mechanics of global charity) “You can imagine the disappointment of the people that are hungry. When those three got off the plane-imagine the kid’s faces. They would be expecting some grains or something, and all they have is like…easels and shit.”
Woman 1 “It’s too much.”
Woman 2 (moving on) “What are you doing later?”
Woman 1 “I’m gonna go on line and look for a trip hop night.”
Saturday, 7 June 2008
This week's copy...ruminations on cat indolence...
I arrived at an airport with several hours to spare and having made it to the departure lounge without let or hindrance and not consumed by the urge to buy a foot long Toblerone or try and win a car in a raffle there seemed little else to do but repair to the hideous “pub”. This proved a popular option and soon I was sharing a table with a couple fretting about their abandoned pet.
Man “I hope the cat’s O.K.”
Woman “It’ll be fine.”
Man “I worry about him.”
Woman “ I dunno why, it’s not like he’s gonna get into a trouble, he never does anything when we’re there, I don’t imagine he gets up to much when we’re away.”
Man “You never know…”
Woman “You never know what? You think it’s gonna have some friends over and wreck the place?”
Man “No, I mean…”
Man (as though revealing a guilty secret) “They get lonely”
Woman “He’s too lazy to be lonely.”
Man “That’s not fair!”
Woman “The other day I was watching him and he was staring straight at the sun. I couldn’t figure out why an animal would do that and then I thought-perhaps it’s easier than dilating your pupils, perhaps it’s his way of doing even than less than he was doing anyway-which was nothing-just lying on his back looking at the sun in the sky.”
Man “The Egyptians…”
Woman “Don’t even start with the Egyptians, they built the pyramids. You worship a cat and you won’t even put up a shelf.”
Saturday, 31 May 2008
Five Star haven't figured in my imagination for quite a while but this week's copy for 'All Ears' has changed that irrevocably....
I was in a bookshop whose layout made no sense to me, searching for something but not about to ask for any assistance when I noticed a couple talking to one another across a giant display of discounted hardbacks. They spoke so loudly the subtext of their conversation seemed to be ‘Check it out everyone, we’re in a bookshop!’ Perhaps it was their first time.
Woman (leafing through a huge volume of collected British pop facts) “Were Five Star from Britain?”
Man (genuinely surprised) “Are you kidding me?”
Woman (miffed, showing him the book) “Well they’re in here…”
Man (Essex accent becoming more pronounced) “I can’t believe you asked me that, they’re from down my way innit? Romford. ‘System Addict’ that was a tune. When did it come out? ”
Woman (studying the tome) “1986”
Man “Whoah, that’s what, twenty odd years. This is making me feel old now. What was the album?”
Woman (losing interest) “I dunno…they made loads…”
Man (excited) “Silk and Steel! Oh yeah, I had that. What happened to them?”
Woman (annoyed with the lack of further information) “I doesn’t say, this is just lists.”
Man “I remember they moved to a big house. They had a private disco and a fair and all that, like Jacko. Cars, you name it. Except this was in Berkshire maybe, they left Essex, I remember that.”
Woman “Did they have a monkey?”
Man “Not in Berkshire. I don’t think they’re allowed.”