Friday, October 17, 2014

scrawl, soundtrack, spew and smart

hello there

blimey, i really have not done much here this month. sorry for that, mixture of busy, emergencies and being tired. i trust, although i somehow doubt, quality trumps quantity at least, look you see.

first off, and where i live. some people have gotten it into their heads that i live in some sort of crime free, incident free, tranquil utopia. sure, i don't live in a world where a disabled man argued with an international governing body to be treated as able bodied only to later argue with a court that actually, now he thinks about it, he should get special treatment as being disabled after a minor misunderstanding with a bathroom door and a gun, but still, we have incidents here.

observe what has beautified a wall upon our much cherished High Street this week, and my apologies, of course, for the obscenity of it all.



yes, i am quite amused by the fact that someone took the time, trouble and imagination to do a graffiti thing on a wall, but the vocabulary stretched as far as this word. judging by the style of writing, and the comparative height on the wall at which it appears, i am assuming this is the handiwork of a younger member of our community.

the interesting thing is that this, to my knowledge, has been left where it is for two weeks. weird, i thought it would have been scrubbed off, for we are not known for appreciating this sort of thing. i will take a stroll past tomorrow and, presumably, see it gone.

anyway, here i am not long after taking that picture.



i was attracting a fair share of funny, if not peculiar, looks myself. i suspect that was down to my general appearance being somewhat enhanced by the somewhat scary Heath Ledger as the Joker t-shirt i had on.

speaking of the horrors of the world, Phil Collins. a friend of mine, and indeed of Sharpy (who reads books), has no less than 300 (three hundred) copies of the soundtrack for the film Buster. a further friend of this friend, who i am not connected to beyond a co-incidence of name, found them in a box and sent them to him. this is despite the mentioned friend not particularly caring for the artist or the soundtrack.

will he give away copies of this CD to any of his friends? no, he won't. or maybe yes, actually, he will and has done so, but i no longer constitute as a friend. it wouldn't be a surprise if he felt that way about Sharpy, but from my side i would feel it unwarranted and quite surprising.

it might be that i just have to go and purchase it myself, then.



maybe i will buy it, right, and then send it to him, so he can have 301 copies of it, if it is for some strange reason so important to him to hoard them.

is the soundtrack any good? from what i recall, yes, for there are many musical moments on it which do not feature Phil Collins at all. that's all win, that is.

not entirely unrelated to elements of all that is the news that Spiros has located some further spew on the streets of whatever London sh!thole it is he lives in. once more, dear reader, he has seen fit to share an image of this spew with me, and so you get a very warm welcome to my world with the image below.



Spiros, who i am delighted to say is far more knowledgable and expert in this sort of thing that i am, reckons that the above, for the most part, constitutes the remnants of chicken. do they eat a lot of chicken in London? evidently too much, or otherwise a reasonable about but just not cooked properly.

i have yet to determine or otherwise ascertain why it is Spiros walks around, sees such things and says to himself "that's a good bit of spew, that, i will take a picture and send it to my mate". when he is not doing that he is, it seems, now bothering Mediterranean gents who happen to be wearing military uniform, with pilots particularly tickling his fancy. whether this is a step up, down or sideways from London cabbies is a matter i am not prepared to comment on.

to finish off, if you had not quite had enough horrors for one post, here's me looking somewhat smart. well, smart-ish, or at the least as smart as i get, i suppose.



there was a sort of thing on at verk that required me to look smart. what? well, with good fortune it will be available at a later stage. until that time is shall, then, as a matter survive by breathing and exhaling the fine air of mystery.

the above picture was taken at 7am, or a few minutes later. yes, it is indeed getting that dark on a morning. darker yet, i suppose, when they fiddle with the clocks next week.

right, that will do. off to listen to something that is not, of course, the Buster soundtrack.



be excellent to each other!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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