Category: epic posts

having lurked in the bathroom cabinet for a month or so, our pet hyacinth has bloomed miracously.
What a wonderful pong!
only a smellovision internet would do it justice

… actually what was that John Waters/ Divine film, where you got handed a scratch and sniff card as you entered the cinema?

… in response to:

Anyone know how to get cheap calls to overseas mobile numbers?

………..

Metaphor! I mean Semaphore! wow, the things people did before the internet
back to the future
near where i grew up there was disused Semaphore tower up on the ridge of the North Downs, a brill place to go and play. I think it’s a tall skinny house now. lots and lots and lots of stairs.

It must have been quite fun standing up there hurrah, hurl, waving a few flags about and looking down on the treetops below.

The tower was part of a chain that stretched all the way from Greenwich to Portsmouth, for sending messages rapidly to and from the fleet ‘Matty Taylor scores a scorcher’
I want to say the fantastic Samuel Pepys set it up, an everyman visionary, but i’m not remotely sure if thats true?

Inspector morse code

.. | .-.. — …- . | -.– — ..-

always the first words to learn in any new language!

a lo fi, but useful site

http://users.scoutnet.nl/~inter/morse/morseform.html

when wallow hippo in the bath i turn the hot tap on with my toes.

what else are toes good for?

….. on being told, that the big toe affects balance and that those affected with frostbite can’t stand upright ……..

yeuchh big lebowski, captain oates i give you tepid bath water, and you respond with tales of toe mutilation!

Did you know that the foreleg and hooves of a horse are actually, a horses fingers and toes and that horses are really tip toeing about? Or something like that?

…….. when i was young, we were told that cavemen had wider spaced, gripping toes (prehensile!) and that that was because they didn’t wear shoes. As a result we didn’t wear shoes for an entire week, running around the garden, waving fire hardened cave man spears, hurling them into the bushes, stig of the dump stylee. Much fun, yet sadly with no palpable toe spacing improvement whatsoever!

All true galloopiis have a misshapen little toe. By the claw shall you know them!

………..

I’ve just thought of my friend David in prague, he was American, very New York and most Woody Allen, when younger he claimed to have been an amphetamine fuelled Chess Hustler in Washington square, Greenwich Village.

When I knew him he was a very pleasant ineffectual intellectual, but also the best News photographer i ever met! I’ll have to put up some of his piccies one day, awesome!

Whilst lamenting his lack of success with women, he was always doing an impersonation of his Grandma ‘No Huppi, No Stuppi’, which apparently is some reference to them getting married under a special canopy?! and basically means, no sex before marriage

Anyway back to the toes, David’s seduction plan with young american tourists, was to persuade them to take off their shoes and socks and walk with him about the city. He’d always spin some line about mystical prague of the dreaming spires, about how you could only really absorb the spirit of the stones, through the souls of your feet!

basically he thought that if you can get them to hobble across cobble stones, if you could get them to have abn adventure, if you could get them to take their shoes off, you might have more luck with further garments of their clothing.

Bless him, he was totally un cynical about the whole ruse!

Not sure if the ploy ever worked, but often meet him in the heart of old town, with a girl, both of them clutching shoes in their hands. I’d just wink and tip toe past myself

..and he’s got his own lego character!
too cool to mention

for lf

I once helped a friend of mine move his stuff to Amsterdam, we piled a Futon and the whole kit kaboodle into a car and away on the Ferry. He was moving into a room on the Waterlooplein, or Nieumarket, or one of those other wonderful Dutch squares
a beautiful if not slightly decrepit 17th Century house. Like the Dutch themselves it was very tall, about 4 floors high and extremely skinny.
It had one of those warehouse doors on the top floor, and a hook and pulley, for hauling stuff on a rope up up and away to the upper floors. sadly this was now broken, as we discovered why they perfected such a system.
trying to get the Futon around and around the narrow staircase was nigh on impossible.
PG Tips Chimps with a Grand Piano!
A Shove, a squeeze and a push, we hurly burly, willed it all the way up. pure exhaustion. made it in the end.
Once the work was down, we spent the rest of the day just sitting, gawping out the window.
A beautiful picture window, with a traditional Dutch view, a tree lined canal, a large square and a seeming dream of a Fairytale castle opposite.
We just sat there contendly for hours, a bottle of duty free whiskey, the occasional spliff.
Making up stories for all the things happening below.
A woman would come cycling across the square, she’d meet someone she knew, stop have a chat, then they’d make off in a new direction.
Not linear stories, but more like all these things happening at once, just as in the way, ‘Wheres Wally’ is not a linear book, but a hodge podge, smorgasboard of just stuff happening and… obviously owes a huge debt to Breughel!
Oh you know what i mean…
then we saw someone fall into a canal…. oh no that was in Auden Breughel