Ugg and the half-burnt sticks…

But first…
Dulltown, Europe: Today’s very English swear word is ‘bloody’.
From Bozzimacoo: Origins & Meanings of Oaths and Swear Words By Mary Marshall (1975):
According to Julius Sharman in A Cursory History of Swearing, 1884, this word ‘bloody’ was the hardest worked word of all in such circles: ‘From the low-lying quarters of the towns the word buzzes in your ear with the confusion of a Babel. In the cramped narrow streets you are deafened by its whirr and din, as it rises from the throats of the chaffering multitude.’

‘Ugg… Ugg… Ugg!…’
‘Where the hell are you?’
‘Oh, I’m here now Lugg.’
‘So I see… Where have you been?’
‘Oh, nowhere really…’
‘Look Ugg, I’ve just got back from this morning’s mammoth disembowelling, you were supposed to be there, helping us out!’
‘Oh, sorry Lugg… I was…’
‘Was what?…’
‘Oh, something, came up…’
‘I don’t care what came up! We really needed everybody there. There wasn’t just Tuesday’s mammoth, there was a bison and a pangolin just about ready to go off in the heat – I wore out two good flint knives and a scraper, there was blood and guts everywhere, Chugg fell into the mammoth belly and we had to pull him out by his feet…’
‘Oh stop it Lugg… you know I don’t like that sort of thing.’
‘Well Ugg, it’s time you got used to it, and mucked in with the rest of us, and… Hang on! What’s all this?…’
‘All what Lugg?’
‘All this nice stuff, dried alligator steaks, coloured pebbles, nuts, fruit…’
‘I’ve noticed that you’ve been sneaking out of the cave recently. Have you been stealing stuff from people?’
‘Oh no Lugg, I wouldn’t do that!’
‘Well, where’s it all from then?’
‘Well… Dugg, and his family… and Spugg and his new girlfriend Nugg, brought it round for me.’
‘Yes… and…’
‘Why!… Why, did they bring you all this stuff?’
‘Would you like one of these nuts Lugg, or maybe a nice coloured pebble?’
‘Not just at the moment Ugg – would you like to feel the rough edge of my stone axe around the side of your head?…’
‘No Lugg.’
‘Well then!… Is all this something to do with you sneaking half-burnt sticks out of the fire, and slipping them into your loin-cloth?’
‘Oh, you noticed?’
‘Yes, I did… So…’
‘Well, you know that cave at the end of the row, the one that nobody uses?…’
‘Yes, the floor slopes, it’s deep, and it’s hard to get in. What about it?’
‘I’ve been in it…’
‘Oh?… Why?… Do tell…’
‘I’ve been drawing on the walls, down in the back…’
‘You’re an idiot Ugg!… Why would you do that? – and what’s it got to do with the ali-steaks, the nuts and the fruit?’
‘Well Lugg, one day, Dugg saw me going in to the cave… and we got chatting…’
‘Yes, and he was asking what I drew.’
‘Oh, and what do you draw Ugg?’
‘Oh, just ordinary things… bison… birds…’
‘Are you any good at it?’
‘It’s not really for me to say Lugg, but people do seem to like them. They give me stuff if I let them crawl in to have a look. They say my things are ‘spiritual’ and ‘uplifting’…’
‘Do they?…’
‘Sometimes I do requests…’
‘Yes, I did a nice leaping antelope for Nugg, she thought it was really great…’
‘Oh… right…’

And so… the art gallery was invented.


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, art, brain, conversation, drama, drawing, expletives, food, history, humour, information, painting, story, surrealism, thinking, words and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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