I have a complex and brilliantly efficient filing system for all my important paperwork (payslips, Council Tax, other shite, mainly shite, just fucking loads of bits of paper, often with post it notes stuck to them, shyte. ) I just pile it up, move it around, get it mixed up with other stuff of different vintage. It’s absolutely fool proof. I got a post card the other day warning that the temporary pet insurance I’d taken out for the dog was running out in a few days time, so i filed it carefully, then mixed it up with some drawings and moved it somewhere slightly less easy to find.
- bloody great min.
- just the usual.
I did eventually find the fucking stupid thing. None the wiser. I scrabbled about for another bit of paper, AHA. I’d written key facts about that, the dogs NAME, that he was a DOG, his weight, and a long reference number. Deeply impressed with myself I launched on to the PETPLAN website and started looking for some way to extend and up date the cover. Eventually after much swearing, I managed to call up a form that would search for details using a reference number and a postcode. The reference number was no use. I had vague recollections of getting a letter, but after more rummaging I couldn’t find that.
Christ this is boring, really boring. Mundane pishe. Not magnolia pishe.
We went for a walk along the river. Headed for snuffies pool. Who was snuffie? I have no idea!! It was guid to get out of the house. It was getting a bit pressure cooker ish. We followed the river up to the pool, passing a few dog walking types. Top banter. We saw some tadpoles at the pool as well. Unexpected for me, i suppose im just used to seeing them on little bits of boggy and soggy ground. Its a wonder the frog spawn didnt wash away, even though that bit is relatively calm. Oh well. You live and learn. Was tempted to take them home in a jam jar and feed them up on chunks of corned beef like when i was a nipper. I dont think that kind of thing is encouraged nowadays.
“Total gypes min. Jist fuckin’ bahms. BAHMZ.”
Skittered Breeks/Sharny shoes/and a DOD of dogdirt on the elbow of my jumper.
That’s what I noted down, in marker- it just pooped into my brain.
I was sorting through a transfer of art stuff from another store and came upon a a six pack of ink. It was already reduced down to a tenner. So I put it aside on the desk, a lay away. It actually went through the till at less than ten quid, then I had staff discount on top of that. I was quite happy with the transaction.
I’m a big fan of dip pen and ink, I really like the scratchy and splattery quality of the line. It’s pleasing to me. I also have stocked up on just plain black ink so this six pack of exciting new colours was something of a revelation. There’s a nice green, reminds me of alien blood or foliage in a forest. There’s a super blood red. A bright sky blue, and a groovy sepia sort of brown colour.
To be honest all I’ve used so far is the blood red, its really cool. I hear about folk setting themselves creative goals, you know shit like writing or recording a song a week, producing a drawing a day, increasing the amount of farting in everyday life. I’ve never been a fan of that pish. I’ve written no new songs for ages, if you discount that international digger day song and a collaboration with another local musician. Seems to me the band thing has died a death with me. I still dig out the guitar but it’s getting a rarer and rarer occurrence. I still get the old battered acoustic guitar out, just because it’s less hassle than plugging in an electric guitar into an amp etc. Oh well.
I was flicking through some drawings, some half finished some almost there, just looking for possible areas to use some of the new ink colours.
Doodling is fine but somewhere along the way I’ve stopped telling any sort of story, I was battering away at the Teet Bo concept for a while but it just got bogged down and snarled up in the undergrowth of the woods.
That’s my thoughts today, early in the morning for me. On holiday and havering a lot.
As per usual
Hes been here a week. So its all going fairly well. He’s a big lump.
He’s integrated into the Farquhar family unit quite well. The kids can’t get enough of his puppy antics, and happily enough he mostly poops outside, as my research instructed me pre-dog the peeing might take a wee while longer, but it’s not to bad as he’s mainly kicking about in the living room with its chintzy fake wood laminate flooring. Piss pools in the a.m. Amazing. Least puppy urine DISNAE smell quite as bad as the horror show stink of cat Piss.
After a few days he started upgrading his vocal software, moving on from little whimpers to very impressive Barking. I managed to capture this on a video. Barking at a stone. He likes digging and weeding in the garden. Much hilarity.
Does that link work? I’m not sure it’s hard to tell on the tablet. Oh, it does. How fantoosh. Anyhow, he’s had his first lot of jabs from the vet and apparently we have to keep him away from other possibly Un jagged dogs and shit or Piss from said Un inoculated dogs. Disease can be spread via NOSE TO NOSE contact I also learned. Bit of a bummer. At least he can tootered about in the garden though. Which is in a fantastic jungle like state at the moment. A work in progress I feel.
As ever: C.y.l.y.b.o.c
Key image. THIS ONE. The Forest Gate.
We’ve driven past it, seen the signs- “sculpture at the tyrebagger”…mysterious. My brain runs a different way, so I had always imagined the sculpture in question was actually made of old tyres, like a big bulbous and bloated Michelin man. all the tyres- from bike, through car, right up to tractor for the paunchy midrift. Not so. But it was still a guid off tangent walk, made all the better by discarding the mere one hour walk of the red route ( labour OUT) and going totally off the scale and wandering right round the hill.
We fired out and landed in the car park. Now I’ve obviously been there before. but never made it beyond the car park, not sure why, when or walloper. But the whole place looked vaugely familiar. Maybe I’ve conjured it in dreams. maybe I’ve travelled there in those blank moments at work when I just drift off when some daft fucker is asking me about something crafty
HOW WOULD I COVER THIS MACHE UNICORN? I NEED IT FOR NEXT WEEKS MEETING OF THE SOARZE ALBUMEN ULTRA NAT MEETING.
The kids, as high gain as they are on a weekend are really quite easily amused by a long walk. As this was new terrain, and I was unsure of the outcome I made the prudent investment of filling up the two (pink and blue natch) water bottles just in case things went on and on. Guid move by me. I usually have a heap of fruit in my bag- this time I was reduced to two oranges, no takers on the slog, but fuck it.
RED ROUTE or Blue Route the sign in the car park said. RED was an hour, Blue circa half that- and blue was better for young kids. So the blue route got shit canned pretty quick. The kids will walk all the way from here to Seaton park with very little fucks given.
Finally got a local election leaflet the other day, and yeah, it was okay. I’ve read it and although it’s a tad post-truth, at least its not barking on about preventing another divisive indyrendum. No cunt knocked at the door though, would have liked a chat. probably something to do with the SNP stuff hanging in the windows.
I’ve had zip from from anybody else, no UKIP etc. but the wife keeps throwing them out. BECAUSE SHES A TYPICAL NATIONALIST.