all this talk of sofas……….
once when i was hitch hiking to Edinburgh, i dug out an empty Rice Crispies box and a marker pen
for to write my sign: Edinborough (frightfully middle class!), for some reason all the letters didn’t seem to fit, malice a lack of forethought, so my writing got tinier and teensier towards the end… and angled upwards!
I got stuck by the roadside somewhere outside Newcastle.
Eventually a large white van pulled over. 3 oddballs in bobble hats.
pleasant fellows, no room up front with them, they said hop in the back. so I did.
Opening up the back of the van, plonk in the middle, there was a sofa, with a standing lamp besides it.
A proper living room!
Complete even with 3 ceramic ducks, arranged flying across the side wall
One of their friends, more bobble hat action, was sitting on the couch he said ‘we’re off hunting for mushies…. fancy coming?’
How does everybody like their new office seats?
mines grand, admittedly only a short crabwise shuffle 5 yards to the right from my last place.
wilderbeest to the water hole, bit of a trample path, but has residual good vibes from all the people who have ever sat here before
The best bit is the enormous skylight, directly above.
I feel like i’m going to be alien abducted by a bright shining light. Else I shall float, drift above to frolic with the angels. thinking about it, those may well be the same things!
the skylight is complete with a little door. the giraffes broom cupboard?!
I could bounce up there?
I spent much of the weekend on a bouncy castle, yippee, boing, boing, stop to cough. splutter.
they’re brill, you can make like wrestlings giant haystacks, roar and hurl the kids harmless wreckless against the wall
……… What i meant to say though, was that once i was up in scotland for new year, a party in a house with a very narrow corridor, wedge yer bum against one wall, brace legs against the other, then shimmy squirm upwards.
3 of us sitting above, there, where the helium ballooons roam, each with a beer (80 shilling? pint of heavy?!)
noses pressed against the plaster ceiling rose.
life imitiating a Lionel Richie song ‘oooh oooh dancing on the ceiling!’
lawks and lordy, just a single word?! Flounder Fluster. Dear Brain Derr Brain, surely it can’t be that impossible?
I nearly always stop to talk to Market researchers and TV reporters, a regrettable weakness, i always tell people it’s because of my time interviewing Ozzie Grannies in the supermarket suburbs of Sydney. ‘G’day, so you think processed cheese slices taste of plastic? Is that before or after you take the wrapper off?’
Actually I really like market researchers, because people asking me questions, sends me into a very fuzzy, entirely pleasant hypnotic trance.
And they usually give you a free ice cream at the end of it!
Anyway couple of years ago, i was crossing the pavilion gardens, returning to work from a tranquil hour of Buddhist meditation.
I was pounced upon by a camera crew and an attractive presenter.
She asked ‘excuse me, kind sir. Could you give us one word to sum up Brighton?’
‘errr ummm, errr’, the mermaids by the pier, the rounded domes of the pavilion. look direct at camera. blurt out.
can anyone suggest a word i should have said?
chips and mayonnaise?
once when i was on a cross channel ferry back from Amsterdam,
a full moon, huge waves, i spent the whole voyage dashing exuberantly about the deck,
hurrah, hurrah for the King over the water,
at one point i was leaning over the side, pondering philosophically, gawping at the foaming wake.
At that moment an announcement came over the tannoy.
crackle hiss…. ‘DON’T DO IT. DON’T JUMP’ …splutter baffle
nearly made me leap right out of my skin. i looked up to see away in the turret a beaming big bearded cap’n Birdseye type,
giving me a thumbs up sign. ha. cheeky!
from an old email, no harm in a cheery dose of valentines schmaltz!
… oh, first time i wrote a version of this tale, it was in very bad czech, for my friend Dita,
whilst out drinking, we’d communicate solely by drawing cartoons on beer mats
luckily, a lot of beer mats in prague
once when i was on the escalator, there was this oldish czech couple above me,
they were huge huddle bundled up in coats
he, with a red drinkers nose, protection ‘gainst the winter cold, she pale faced and chubby.
Suddenly he went down on one knee and started serenading her
a dreadful croak of a voice, but capable of holding a tune
she was delighted, laughed and laughed, her jowls jelly wobbling with glee.
this, in turn, set him off, hoot cackles bound resounding to the roof
they loved each other
the escalator hurtled down, down onwards towards the end
there a coke can, clank clatter, spieled and tumbriled in the gutter,
weir trapped at the base of the escalator…
i do like my shrek like happy grotesques, valentines is great
the good thing about life is every person loves someone!