Guardian All Ears 6th December

Don't ask me about the Dalek, I just like them OK?


(Article by Michael Holden)

I left a party, to have a smoke with the assembled lung worriers outside just as one of them was loudly lamenting the mixed blessings of his newfound single status.

Man 1 (holding a beer bottle in much the same as way aggressive preachers deploy their bible) “I had no youth, right? If you think about it I totally missed the whole freedom thing. I was with her for ten years. So this is all new to me. I’m like, what the fuck are you gonna do?”

Man 2 “Well what are you gonna do? You’ve got your own place, just go nuts, really go for it. I would.”

Man 1 (forlorn) “It’s not that clean cut though is it? I just don’t know what to do. You talk to women and then what happens?”

Man 2 “If they like you they sleep with you and if they don’t they won’t. It’s the same as before”

Man 1 “The guy I share the flat with, he’s really handsome, a ridiculous looking bloke, like an advert or something. He’s got these women coming all the time.”

Man 2 “Well you can clean up in his slipstream then. Is he thick?”

Man 1 (sensing a plan) “Yeah, he’s pretty stupid. I think, yeah.”

Man 2 “Well they’ll get tired of him and then you move in, acting clever.”

Man 1 (annoyed at the lack of a more realistic proposal) “There’s more to it though, he doesn’t flush the toilet. And these girls, I know they’re gonna think it’s me.”

Man 2 “Why.”

Man 1 “Because I look like the kind of person who might do that- he looks like he wouldn’t even go in there.”

Man 2 “Well, you’re gonna have to have a word with him.”

Man 1 (face falling as though visualising the issue a little too clearly) “Yeah…I am.”

Spot...

Seem to have developed the complexion of a 15 year old overnight which is faintly distressing - must be too much good living or similar

Bang! Crash! Bah!

Portrait of the artist mid crash-tantrum! Horrible sense of déja vu while one redraws everything from the last half hour...grrr

All Ears 29th November

(Article by Michael Holden)

It was a scene of quintessentially British misery-a train delayed for no explicable reason in the driving rain. As I stared at the seat in front of me trying not to consider what proportion of my life had been spent under such circumstances I became aware of what the women sat across from me were saying.

Woman 1 (as though finally admitting something of great magnitude) “It was my niece that made me think about the wedding ring. She asked me if I still had it and I realised I had kept it-I don’t know why I had.”

Woman 2 “We don’t know why we do things sometimes do we? We’re a mystery to ourselves.”

Woman 1 “It was a few weeks before I dug it out. Wimbledon was on the telly, I remember that much. I tried it on, it still fitted. Then I saw a shop that said “We Buy Gold” so I took it in. they weighted it up in this sort of alchemist’s balance, she said it was worth £26 to them. Well, I thought, it’s better that than nothing. So I took it.”

Woman 2 “Good for you.”

Woman 1 “I looked in the window as I left and there were others there, 18 carat, just like mine, for £200. I thought, ‘is that what they do?”

Woman 2 “I suppose it must be.”

Woman 1 “Anyway, it’s gone.”

Woman 2 “That’s the main thing.”

Woman 1 “They had some others too, platinum and white gold…”

Woman 2 “Platinum’s lovely.”

Woman 1 “Not to me it isn’t. I come up in a rash.”

Guardian All Ears 22nd November

If I were to renounce the world of illustration & go into catering I'd like to think my emporium would be called Kebabylon - definitely with an interior like 'The Stone Cave' in Dalston

http://www.stonecave.net/


(article by Michael Holden)

I live nearby a kebab shop of such repute that people actually go there and eat at tables on purpose when sober. In was waiting for a takeaway when a man limped in and joined another at a table.

Man 1 “What happened to you?”

Man 2 (slightly ashamed) “I tripped over the cat as I was coming out. Fell down the stairs.”

Man 1 “You alright.”

Man 2 “I will be in a bit. Done some painkillers.”

Man 1 “Similar thing happened to me. Went to my sister’s the other day and they’ve painted all the doors the same colour, so I end up going to the wrong flat. I’ve realised and jumped down the stairs to go next door but before I hit the ground I see this-thing-come into my vision moving the other way. And I realise I’m gonna land on it.”

Man 2 “What?”

Man 1 “A rat. “

Man 2 “What did you do?”

Man 1 “Well, I’m mid-air, so there’s not much I can do. I try and take my weight off the foot, but I hit it anyway. You should have heard it. Horrible sound. I don’t like rats at the best of times, so I’ve screamed too.”

Man 2 “Did you burst it?”

Man 1 “No, it wasn’t that bad. It ran off, but I was scared so I ran too. For a while we were both running in the same direction, side by side. It was mental. It peeled off in the end. But, I tell you, I can hear it screaming still.”

Guardian All Ears 15th November

Got slightly carried away with computer geek magazine detail - predicting the new feline themed Mac OS X version - remember I got there first!


(article by Micheal Holden)

I spend enough time in my local library to know by sight the others who do the same and I recognize and respect the hierarchy that exists there, especially among those who have nowhere else to go. Their leader is a bald man, in his sixties perhaps, who can read a single newspaper for up to eight hours. He seldom speaks, except to remonstrate with those who break his self-inflicted protocols of behaviour. The other day though he began almost flirting with woman half his age who was reading a computer magazine at his table.

Man (realizing they were both staring at the rain) “Time to go somewhere else perhaps. Like Morocco.”

Woman (smiling) “Yes”

Man (showing her the weather reports in his paper) “It’s warmer there, see.”

Woman (still smiling) “Yes.”

Man (pointing out a news story) “Did you see this? A pensioner 86, I think, confronted these two robbers. They probably went into shock, people don’t expect it, I mean once you're that age they pretty much write you off, nobody expects anything from you.”

The woman nodded, but her smile seemed more laboured.

Man (pointing at the story again) “Look I was right! They fled in shock, and there were about 50 people standing there doing nothing, the usual story.”

Man (noticing an advert on the same page) “Are you planning on visiting the Byzantine exhibition at the Royal Academy?”

Woman (unnecessarily firm) “No. I’m not interested.”

Man (unphased) “Well, I guess, these are things from the beginning of history, you're young. There would be no point in you going anyway.”

Guardian All Ears 8th November

I love a bit of 'motivational speak' - I wonder if I'll ever make employee of the month?

(Article by Michael Holden)

I was in an especially busy city centre branch of a multinational burger chain trying to soothe my brain with saturated fats and staring out the window when I heard a repetitive cry, rising above the background of everyday bedlam.

Man’s Voice: (deep, enquiring, monotone, suggesting neural meltdown) “Hello? Hello? Hello? Hello? Hello?”

When it didn’t stop I turned round to check what was happening and was surprised to see the sound came from the franchise manager, a small man who leaped up behind his staff like a fat salmon in an attempt to take an order from the crowd of punters who seemed far too alarmed by the noise he was making to take up his offer of assistance.

Manager: (seeing that his team were coping with the mayhem and resorting to a deranged medley of motivational phrases at unbearable volume) “That’s it! That’s It! That’s It! Let’s go! Let’s go! Let’s Go! Now! Now! Now! Now!”

There are few situations in life where someone screaming the word “Now!” makes things any better so it was a relief when he developed a new refrain.

Manager: “Push the button! Push the button! Push the button!”

I watched the staff, the button was clearly metaphorical, but it worked. People got fed.

Manager: (wild, victorious, still yelling) “I told you I was in Beiing! We can do this! Motivation! Now!”

When the crowd departed so did he, he had tears in his eyes, or maybe congealed fat, I couldn’t say.