Writing

An Unstable Tale

I regret to retell an abhorrent tale that I experienced only last week,
I was brought by a clatter, to a house and the matter that forced two once strangers to meet…

I beg your pardon but we hear you are harbouring an arborist.

Who, I? Forsooth, I fear you are mistaken.

I understand you’re making to save your bacon but we see your tree is free of leaves and needs to please be leased overseas for woodchipping and clipping and maybe furniture shipping. So where is the tree lopper?

What? Are you a copper?

Is treason the reason you keep on displeasing this innocent man of the law?

I refuse to reuse my excuses, it’s useless, but you’d back me if you’d seen what I saw.

Is that a pun? We don’t take kindly to that kind of thing, now bring out the felon. Chop chop.

Your wit is a sharp as his axe, but before you take him I should tell you the facts of the matter so you will see it’s a matter of fact that he works to preserve not destroy and, my boy, he could take you down quick as a trap.

The policeman looked stressed and addressed not the logger but the man who stood in the door – I must confess I’m impressed though it was this address that our records directed me for. I feel, in the light of this newly opened canopy, that I should give you a warning, just this once, and no more.

The man looked pleased and with well greased knees took a step out the doorway but slipped on the leaves that had once littered the eaves but now covered the pavement below. Oh heck, as he fell, he considered it well, the space where the great tree had stood, now he observed, somersaulting, that his house, sans door vaulting, had been crushed by the arborist’s wood.

Just sit tight, sang the cop, all this wood that was chopped will need to be cleaned up post haste. I’ll locate the wood chopper if you give me his number and insurance will pick up the waste.

The man groaned and he turned and he kissed the concrete – there never was an arborist. I did it, and I’m proud of this.

But why?

The bees they displeased me and the birds they would mock me and the monkeys…
The monkeys?
There are monkeys no more! I have ended their madness and it is with immense gladness that I find this huge mess around us on the floor.

But your home is destroyed…
But my life is now full!
But you have no insurance…
But I know someone who will!

He then flashed a grin revealing his sin as a second huge pine tree collapsed on the road. On a car. A police car. All white with blue lights and blue trim and shattered glass and crumpled steel and crushed rims.

The officer was not amused, nor was he confused – I’ve changed my mind, since you’re out of yours, I’m taking you in… though we’ll be taking your car.

Fine. But no monkey business. Don’t think I didn’t notice, from the start – your tail!

Standard
photos

Sour Milk

They were giving away flavoured milk in the street (it was a promotion, not just some stranger with a plastic bag)…

/home/wpcom/public_html/wp-content/blogs.dir/ada/53418623/files/2014/12/img_1865.png

It’s just a little big M really. But hey, it was free.

What got me was this – just look at the tag on the top corner of the carton –

/home/wpcom/public_html/wp-content/blogs.dir/ada/53418623/files/2014/12/img_1872.png

They know how difficult these things are to open! Who would be so sadistic as to write “enjoy”? Have fun getting to your iced coffee, mwa ha ha ha!

Standard
Writing

Existence Stage Left

“Know Thyself” – Delphic maxim

.
.

“No Thyself” – Gautama Buddha

.
.

“Know why self” – Deleuze (postmodern retort)

.
.

“No wine shelf” – IKEA (kitchen cupboard)

.
.
.
.
.
.
.

So, here’s the truth about critical existentialism:

It’s all pun and games until someone loses an I.

Standard
photos

Foul Irony

Teeny tiny toilet stencils!

IMG_1833.JPG

I also love that the creator is called Fowler Ware.

Apparently this company has been around since the 1830s, designing ceramics, and seems to have found its calling once they moved onto bathroom fittings.

Like a guy called Jeeves becoming a butler.

Or someone with the surname Law who becomes a police officer.

Or someone called Gates who builds Windows. No, wait…

Standard