Some small but pithy items…

But first…
Dulltown, Europe: Today’s architectural term is Crown-post: A post standing on a tie-beam and supporting a collar-purlin running immediately under the collar-beam of a rafter roof.
Well, I’m glad we’ve finally got that sorted out, it’s been on my mind for some time.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Excuses for being late. No. 290.
I’m sorry I’m late, but I started tinkering with my howitzer.

A single overheard remark:
‘The interesting thing… is interesting…’

‘Hm, you smell nice… what is it?’
‘WD40…’
‘I like it! Here, come a bit closer…’

Last week I thought that I’d give myself a special treat, so I bought some striped toothpaste. Now every morning is a pleasant surprise, it really cheers me up. Gone are the days of plain white toothpaste… Did people used to say, ‘It’s the biggest thing since striped toothpaste!’ or was that sliced bread?…

There’s nothing quite as toe-curlingly embarrassing as people who can’t really do what they are supposed to do: actors who can’t act, comedians who aren’t funny, rock bands that are more safe and bland than their grandparents, artists with lots of confidence but no aesthetic sense, politicians who relish being ‘middle of the road’, and… er, parents who smile proudly as their offspring run about art galleries screaming their little heads off…

‘So, what’s the word on the street?’
‘Well, there’s more than one, there’s ‘Stop’ outside the corner shop, and over there there’s ‘Slow’, but viewed from here it’s written upside down…’
‘That’s not really what I meant…’

Usually at this point in Some small but pithy items… I put in a piece of spam that has popped up in my comments box, but I’m afraid, dear reader, that I don’t seem to be getting any spam these days – perhaps I have upset someone?…

Hm, I’m thinking of changing my name to Hugh Japples.

Ah, yes, it’s called ‘BookCrossing‘ – I have been doing it for a while, but have only recently found that it actually had a name; it is the act of leaving an unwanted book in a public place for some stranger to pick up, take away, and read. A few weeks ago I bought a thickish paperback in a secondhand bookshop, It was Wylder’s Hand (1864) by Sheridan Le Fanu. I remembered his name from a spooky Gothic story I once read and thought I should buy his novel. It turned out to be very dry, slow, and long – I only managed half of the first chapter and the very next day left it on the back seat of a 57 bus. I wonder where it is now, and who is cursing me and struggling with it’s stodginess…

A single overheard remark:
‘And that’s when I started having a piece of paper…’

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 architecture, art, books, conversation, Dulltown, existentialism, Hull.UK., humour, information, observations, overheard, reading, serendipity, surrealism, writing and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

5 Responses to Some small but pithy items…

  1. The word on the street made me snort coffee through my nose!! So funny 😀

  2. Spencer May says:

    one of my facebook personas was Hugh Japples, until he was “disappeared” by them, possibly after being reported by disgruntled females

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