Some short but pithy items…

But first…
Dulltown, Europe: Today’s 18th c. English expletive is ‘Splice my old shoes!’ – actually my old shoes do need splicing – I might splice them this afternoon if I have time.

Excuses for being late. No. 245.
I’m sorry I’m late, but I got rather involved in Nikolai Gogol’s Nose.

A single overheard remark:
‘I don’t wanna go white, and then not like it…’

I saw Tony Blair on the TV last night. I realised that he doesn’t have a normal smile like normal people, he just uses his mad-eyed power-grin when he feels a bit of warmth is called for.

I see that the local newspaper The Hull Daily Mail is advertising that it has a ‘new look’ – I expect that they will retain the bad grammar, poor spelling, sloppy reporting, and the general dumbed down feel of it though.

A reassuring moment:
Returning to Dulltown on the train after a day out in the city of Leeds I found myself sitting next to an upright middle-aged chap, a dark grey suit, pale shirt, expensive tie, shiny black slip-on shoes, black bulging briefcase, cufflinks, aftershave, a clean-fingernailed sort of chap. He fiddled about doing interesting things with his phone for fifteen minutes and then made a call. Oh dear – marketing talk, loud voice, pass this on to Joan, vital strategy meeting, priority capability procedures, Sonja missed something I’m afraid, I’d value any feedback you may have on this, No, no, what we are looking at now John is... etc…
I pulled out my Sony MP3 player and put my headphones on. It began playing a DEVO track – Smart patrol: ‘He’s been with the world, I’m tired of the soup du jour, he’s been with the world, wanna end this prophylactic tour…’
Oh joy! I’m glad I took the life path that I did… (DEVO)

A single overheard remark:
‘It’s a dirty bicep mate…’

An observation:
Today town was full of people with mouths shaped like coat hangers.

A few days ago there was lots of press and TV coverage in the UK for a pretty pointless and possibly surreal event. Yes, that’s right, it was some old bones that someone had dug up in a car park and put in a box. It was decided that they should be ceremonially paraded through the town and then buried in a cathedral. Crowds of people turned out and lined the route… No, really, that really is what happened… Yes, I know it sounds silly… and no, there wasn’t anything very interesting about the bones, they were just bones… It was as if people were worshiping them… a bit like relics of the true cross, Jesus’s fingernail, Jimi Hendrix’s plectrum… Yes, I know, and they ended up in a cathedral… Weird or what?…Well, I call myself a surrealist, but even I found it all a bit too crazy… What is up with people?… (Richard)

A single overheard remark:
‘Cat got your tummy?…’

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 archeology, brain, conversation, existentialism, history, Hull.UK., humour, information, magic, music, observations, Royalty, serendipity, surrealism, thinking, words and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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