I have been absent from here for a bit. This doesn’t mean I’ve not been being pissed off. No, rather it’s the case that I’ve been working lots. Plenty of things have irritated me but most of those things were minor infractions by strangers, mainly centering around public transport issues.
Keep left ffs.
Some irritants of course are major misbehaviours by politicians, but those now fall into the ‘daily occurrence’ category of ‘shite to put up with’ and so are rendered barely worth a mention. We’re going to hell in a handcart politically speaking and I’m currently directing my moaning energy elsewhere. This doesn’t mean that Rishi Sunak et al can’t expect a severe name calling session from this direction soon.
Not today.
I find it hard to remember what happens day to day once the day has gone. I know lots of things have happened since I was last here but exactly how many I couldn’t say,
I took part in an excellent group exhibition in a gallery on Piccadilly Circus and dealt with a clutch of arty weirdos for instance. I should have made notes, it was mostly funny and largely enjoyable. Although life generally seems to be a series of wtf moments, I’m rarely actually shocked these days. A group of young boys who came into the gallery managed to shock me. This shocker is mainly my own fault for pre judging a gang of rowdy youths. They came in though the doors, loud and pushy. I approached them in a ‘let’s nip any shenanigans in the bud now’ manner.
Miss, do you have a quiet space my friends could use to pray in?
I wasn’t expecting that.
Security found them a quiet space. How much were the Art works? Would I hang his T-shirt on the wall? What was my name? That’s a pretty name. (Not Fat Tart, or even Fatima Tartululu, my other name)
So the lesson is…. just because a group of boys look and sound and behave like a bunch of thugs, they might, on closer inspection, in fact be art loving, religiously observant, chatty, high spirited youths instead.
I should obviously write notes when something notable happens. Admittedly my notes aren’t always helpful. I’m still pondering what the note ‘the opposite of swede’ was meant to remind me of. I added to my notes earlier today, one that is likely to confuse in the future, it reads, ’Russ Abbot’s Bottom’. I am currently aware that this refers to Russ Abbot’s turn as the character Bottom in ‘ A Mid Summer Nights Dream’ in Regent’s Park some years ago. It came up in conversation over the weekend. The topic of conversation was ‘performances we unexpected;y loved.’ I find it hard to remember Mr Abbot’s name, but delivering Shakespeare’s comedy in a manner that renders it actually funny is properly note worthy. I may never need to mention, him or it again, but if I do I’ve got the note to remind me of the basic details……if I remember I wrote a note.
This weekend may have been the source of interesting tit bits, four days with my own Cornflake and no work to do. Our romantic plan to holiday in London, eat out, do touristy things etm was replaced by the almost equally romantic notion of a holiday centred around our sofa, cooking at home, drinking a bit of Bolly, eating chocolate and napping at will. We had a visitor in the form of Marmalade, she joined in with the aforementioned activities, which is why she’s always welcome here.
The sofa plan, although pretty perfect, was not really conducive to finding new topics on which to write or draw. That being the case, in recognition of our original London tourist plan, here’s a drawing of one of my most beloved London buildings The Post Office Tower, possibly the BT tower to you. It’s the first in a series of ‘Phallic London’ drawings.
Today, day four of the Easter break, has been used largely to recover from the Bolly (and the Baileys) element of the previous three days in preparation for the return to normal life tomorrow.
I hope the banks enjoyed their holidays as much as we did.
fat tart 