Some short, but pithy items…

But first…
Dulltown, Europe: Today’s fairly boring artist is Richard Long. (R.L.)

Excuses for being late. No. 238.
I’m sorry I’m late, but I found a diamond ring in a tin of sardines.

A single overheard remark:
‘It’s an indecision making process…’

What’s that?… The world will be ending on Monday morning?… But will the big football match still be on?… No, no, they can’t cancel it!… Oh, and I can’t wait to read what all the celebs will be doing in their final hours… Do you think our lovely Royal Family will be alright? Oh, I’m sure they will… Maybe Her Majesty will give Charles a quick go at being king before it all ends… What a weekend it’s going to be! I can’t wait!… Oh, I must get some extra beer in…

His face had the look of someone who had been puzzled all his life…

An observation:
In the cafe, you can always spot the married couples when they come in. They are the ones who get their coffee and cakes and sit down at a quiet corner table; they each take out their newspapers and sit and read, not speaking for twenty minutes, and then, at a mutual nod of heads, get up, fold their newspapers, and leave. I suppose they have said all they had to say before they left home…

A single overheard remark:
‘I could just feel it blowing at me…’

An observation:
A tall slim grey old chap in a smart business suit, shirt and tie, striding confidently along through town, but not swinging his arms – they were hanging straight down at his sides, vertical and without even the hint of a swing… Strange… (The Island)

A young bloke got on the bus and came up the stairs. Isn’t it funny how you can tell so much about a person by the way they sit? He chose a seat at the front, put his elbow up against the side window, the other arm out along the top of his seat, his hand dangling over the end, one leg stretched out into the aisle, and the other up on the metal handrail in front of the front window. He sat spreadeagled as if trying to take up as much territory as possible. He stared around suspiciously at the other passengers… I kept my head down…

A single overheard remark:
‘He’s not even thingy!…’

An observation:
Town today was full of dreamy-looking Pre-Raphaelite girls. (Pre-R)




About Dave Whatt

Grumpy old surrealist artist, musician, postcard maker, bluesman, theatre set designer, and debonair man-about-town. My favourite tools are the plectrum and the pencil...
This entry was posted in art, brain, conversation, Dulltown, existentialism, history, Hull.UK., humour, information, observations, people, Royalty, seeing, serendipity, surrealism and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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