Carry On Mars Attacks…

Mars PlutoSo… I’ve just buckled up and launched off on the next leg of my Astro travels around my chart… and the way that Mars and Pluto tango around each other… And I land back on earth and slip into conversation and it’s suggested that I am naturally provocative…

I take that away to muse for a while as I’m quite used to me, so I don’t really find me that shocking…

But I think about it some more and then I recall the C word incident…

Just around Christmas (Eugghhhhhhhhh….. nasty C word!!) I was taking some classes in stand up… I say classes but it was more of just a meet up for folks to toss around things they had in draft… But things went kind of pear-shaped down to shall I say… artistic differences with the tutor. He would make a huge point of emphasising that the C word was not going to be allowed on stage…

And coming during the week of headlines filled with Je Suis Charlie… I thought he was being a bit precious but I let it slide… for a while… and then he started making a point of looking directly at me when he said it…

Eventually… I asked… What C word do you mean…

You know what I mean…

Clitoris?

Ack!!!! URP!!!! GLUP!!! Pfffffffffftttttttttttt!!!!! His face flushed crimson…

I was off… ad lib ahoy! Oh…. no… really… Clitoris? That upsets you… that’s more upsetting than that other really truly deeply offensive C word… Anatomical terms choke you harder that me slipping my tongue around my Anglo Saxon heritage site…

SO… that is how I quit comedy class…

But talking of Astro, reminds me that I still have my sketch in stasis… so…

Waste not want not…

Let’s defrost it and give it some air… see what it says about my Mars in Virgo in 8th house combined with Pluto in Virgo in the 9th…

Joy Blessing… The stage is all yours…

Motivational Mondays…

I’ve never much cared for Mondays and for many years I braced myself against them and soldiered forth but then I started working from home and they took on a whole new level…

No longer were they just Mondays…no…. now they’d become Motivational Mondays…

You get up, switch on your laptop and into your living room pours meme after meme of mindless crap and morons from all parts of the globe join you on your sofa… and the only thing it motivates me to do, is drop kick the computer the length of the garden…

See… it takes a while for it to sink it that you are your own boss and in fact… fuck it! If I want to, I can start my week on a Tuesday…

So now my Mondays are mostly loaf around and talk to the cat days… well… I say talk to the cat… it’s not like he ever really answers other than to tell me to shut up and go away as he’s busy day ahead of him licking his balls… the fish is more talkative but he’s a bit of a judgemental bastard… I keep telling him…. Bobzilla… people in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones…

One thing about working from home is that it’s fairly easy to let your dress code slip… It starts slowly… meh… no need to put a bra on today, then before you know it the knickers follow suit… well… it saves on the washing and who wants the noise of the machine going all day when you’ve got important procrastinating to do… hey… I’m green not lazy! I first noticed that I might have a problem when someone gave me some vouchers and I went into M&S for some work wear and came out with new pyjamas… though the postman is quite delighted that I no longer answer the door naked…

So… an average work day… I converse with the kitty… politely decline his offer to have a lick and then call him a useless lazy free loader and tell him it’s about time he got a job… he reckons he’s more than in credit after destroying the local mouse population… That’s the reason I have him…

We had this mouse problem… I kept hearing these little noises and I insisted to Mr Blessing that we had mice… No, don’t be silly he said… anyway… the noises continued and then one night I’m sat there typing and out of the corner of my eye, there in the middle of the living room floor is Stewie Little washing his furry nose… I stared at him and he scampered off…

I told Mr B… we need a cat! There’s a mouse in the house…

Now Mr B is of a Buddhist disposition… Oh no no no! he said… we’ll have no killing here…

And off he went and bought humane traps… Now it turns out that the perfect bait is ready salted crisps dipped in Nutella… so the traps were laid of an evening and in the morning, the mice were gathered up and off he took them in his back pack to be released out into the park…

Now the kids thought this was brilliant and they started leaving food all over the house, determined to see more of these furry critters… and the buggers got bolder and bolder and they started coming out in the day… and when you looked at them, they raised a furry paw, waved at you then went back to stuffing their faces on floor buffet…

So enough was enough and I tracked myself down a cold-blooded serial killer… Now to be honest, he didn’t get off to a flying start and the first time he saw a mouse he did in fact run off… I grabbed hold of him, threw him into the kitchen with the overly confident rodent and left him there until he worked out what a cat does!

Buddha boy was mortified… he’d come home and find that the garden had been turned into a killing field… I heard him one day… Now look Woody… let me show you… are you paying attention? Now this one here… this is a house mouse…OK… I’m not happy  about it, but these ones, you are allowed to kill…. Now these ones here… Look… they are wood mice! They are OFF the menu! Capiche?

Hey! Mr B? Are you talking to the cat??? Nutter…

Yeah… Woody has quite a taste for live bait… turns out it’s a passion I also share… though I’d not had much of a chance to indulge it… that is until God started delivering it to my doorstep…

Yeah… Jehovah’s Witnesses…

Now there’s an urban myth that you can get rid of them by saying you’re a blood donor… forget it!!

They’ve been trained on that one… they’ve a whole flow chart of replies ready for you…

Now on one particular day, two youngish women came to the door and they foisted a Watchtower into my hand and asked me what I believed in and I didn’t really want to get into that, as to be honest, after nearly 25 years of marriage, and 4 kids….most days I’m not even sure that I exist… never mind some supreme being or entity… Whose socks are these? Anybody seen my car keys? Those are the sort of BIG questions I deal with… I looked at them and just said….meh… I’m of no fixed abide…

Will you read this Watchtower?

Sure… hey I said… how about you come in and we read it together and then I read your tarot cards for you?

That was interesting… they couldn’t get away quick enough… pushing past each other to get out the gate first with elbows flailing like first through Tesco’s door during a Black Friday sale…

Anyway… I took the magazine and dropped it on the table… The kids found it a few days later… I wasn’t impressed… Just wait until next time those Jovies appear…. I want a few words with them…

I waited and I waited… and then the knock… YES!!! I get to the door and there’s some fresh blood… 2 very respectable looking middle aged women…. Aha! Yes!!! They’ve got copies of Watchtower…

Good Morning ladies…

Good morning… we’re just calling by this morning to…

Hold on! Let me stop you there! Some of your colleagues were quite rude to me, last time they were here… they got very upset when I offered to read their tarot cards for them…

Really? I’m very sorry about that.

Yes… so am I, quite rude really after I Iistened to what they wanted to talk about for quite some time…

Tell me about your tarot cards?

What really?

Then I get a long lecture about how they love the sinner but hate the sin or something like that and that it’s not my fault that I wasn’t brought up with proper values…

And I’m thinking… oh… you cheeky mare!! I was brought up with some right proper values… some militant with Salvation values… and I’m right now supressing the urge to twat you over the head with a tambourine…

Can I leave this copy of Watchtower with you? Will you read it?

What’s in it?

Pardon?

What’s in it? The last one you left had a piece about the evils of masturbation in it…

Pardon? Really?

Yes! Really! That was a nice afternoon spent answering questions after my kids picked it up and read it…

Oh… well… you know… as parents, it is part of our duty to answer our children’s questions and …

Look sweety!!! I’m more than happy to answer any and all questions but I do like a head’s up on when and ideally… I wouldn’t chose to do it in front of an elderly relative with a heart condition… You really should warn people of the content…

Oh… I didn’t know that sort of thing was in there…

What? Why not? Well… what a bloody nerve! You turn up on my doorstep and ask me to read things you can’t be bothered to read…

Yeah… well… to be honest… there’s some things in there that I don’t really agree with…

Really? Oh… so what are YOUR personal views on Masturbation? Do you accept it into your life as a normally and healthy practise?

Ermmm Ermmm

Or do you think it’s a fast track to insanity…

Errmmm Errrmmmm

What I’m asking is… Ok… You’ve knocked on every door but do you ring the Devil’s doorbell?

Jehovah’s Witnesses don’t believe in the Devil!

Ok… Look I’ll read your magazine… now please I can’t stand around all day chatting… I’ve got work to do!

Ok… we’ll come back another day…

So… about a week later… Knock knock knock…

Come on in!!! I says…

That threw her… but only for a second or so…

Take a seat…

Mmmm aren’t you busy?

No!!! Sit down!!! Do you want a drink?

No thanks… who’s the artist?

Me…

Mmmm…. What’s that one?

Oh… that’s a self-portrait…

Really? That’s what you look like?

Yeah… well… yeah… I guess so…

MMmmm…. Did you use a mirror?

No… I just draw what I feel…

Mmmmm….

Now… it’s only with hindsight that I’m understanding her mmmm….

See… a few days later, a friend dropped by and also asked me about that painting… Now I told her it was an aura drawing and went into dippy hippy woo woo jargon…

Oh… she said…so you don’t paint what you see, you paint what you feel? You paint your energy…

Yeah… something like that…

Oh… I was just wondering as it has a bit of a Georgia O’Keefe feel to it…

Really?

Yeah… it looks like a gaping lady garden… a psychedelic multi coloured minge…

Oh dear… there’s a jw walking around who thinks I paint like this… *hand movements*

Oh dear… that poor old jovie… she really did turn up on the wrong day…

She turned up on a day when I was up against a deadline and procrastinating with a vengeance… I kept her talking for 3 hours… she quoted chunks of Bible at me and asked me what I thought and I had the Google oracle to hand so I threw back quotes aplenty from The Dali Lama to Samuel L Jackson…

She said she had to go…

I laughed and told her I thought she was very trusting and then I asked her how she was certain that I’d not locked in her and maybe I had a cellar full of cold callers and salesmen stashed away…

I kept her for another half an hour and then told her to leave as I had work to do! And she’d frittered away my day…

She left out the front door and Mr B came in the back…

JESUS BLOODY CHRIST!!! WHAT ON EARTH HAVE YOU BEEN DOING ALL DAY?
Why?

Look at the state of this pig sty!!! JESUS!!!! What is THAT smell?

What?

That smell… seriously? You can’t smell that?

No… I’ve got a bit of a blocked nose…

Why aren’t you dressed yet?

Oh… the Jovie woman turned up and I invited her in for a chat

What???? You let somebody into my house, in this state, and you’re still in your pj’s and just what have you got on your head?

Eh? Oh!! My thinking cap!!!

Thinking cap??? Thinking cap!!! It’s a bloody headband with enormous bunny ears!!!

So why are you asking then?

I can’t believe you!!! What must that woman have thought?

I don’t know sweety… but apparently she’s not here to judge me as I’m a beloved child of God!

That smell!!! Where is that smell coming from??? It’s horrific?

I don’t know… I can’t smell it…

That chair!!! It’s coming from that chair!!

Oh… that’s where she was sitting…

Joy!!! Stop it!!! Don’t blame the nice lady…

He pulls out the chair…

And there’s a gigantic mound of streaming cat turd behind it….,

Jesus!!! Woody!!! You’ve shat your own body weight!! What on earth possessed you… You know you’re supposed to do that in next door’s garden…

That Woody… he looked me in the eye…

Easy woman… Take a chill pill… You told me to get a job…

Yeah… get a job! Not do a job!!

Shhh…. Listen… I’m Head of Dept for dealing with live bait… I’ve sorted your pest problem…

What you call that work?

Yeah… I call that work… honestly… what do you think I do? Just lie around all day licking my balls…

Mars Attacks

Mmmm… provocative… whatev’…

Baby! I was born this way!

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Bank Holiday Borderectomies…

This weekend has found me taking my craft knife to my Druid Craft. Mr S walked into the room not long after I had started and eventually, his eyes following the every move of my hand, rippled through my little self-absorbed bubble enough for me to put down my tools and ask him just what it was that he found so bloody fascinating…

He rambled on some long list about focus, precision, patience, fastidiousness and being able to repeat over and over again the same movements… something about I would have made a good leather worker… I agreed with that… after all I may have some genes lurking in that area having not too far back in the family had saddlers and pattern cutters… Then he made some comment about it was a lot of  work for something that didn’t really seem to have any real purpose…

Now that made me laugh… Really? You don’t understand?

Why would I? he asked…

How many times have you restrung guitars or adjusted bridge heights or tweaked fittings on machine heads? Fine tuned your instruments… Not always for the sound but sometimes for just how they feel in the hand or rest against your body…

Ah… Now he got it…

But then I laugh again as yeah… sometimes it is purely because there is no real purpose…

I like the soothing mindfulness that arises out of the exercise… but that is the by product rather than the goal…

Sometimes I force myself into the boredom and tedium of doing something so precise and controlled as most of my art work is spontaneous, wild, whoosh, swirl, smudge, happy accidents claimed and nudged into new creations… But to do that ALL the time… that in itself becomes boring… being off the leash loses excitement when the leash ceases to exist…

Sometimes, it is a distraction and a safety valve against doing something destructive… Keeping my hands safely occupied rather than wreaking havoc… It’s a better use of energy to remove parts of cards than to use a keyboard to slice souls who come out to troll…

But mostly, I think, what I like is being able to see more clearly what I like once the distractions have been removed…

What I love about this deck is the skies… peachy vanillas… mossy greens…

It makes me think that you could do a whole reading just using the skies…

It fascinates me to think that we all live under one big sky that constantly shifts and changes and although it may be similar… it’s never the same twice…

It occurs me to that maybe there’s a psychic weather report going on…

Mmm… then I think of shepherds and their red skies and morning warnings and night delights…

Then of course… looking for shapes in clouds…

I decided to consult the Google oracle as I guess there must be a name for it…

NEPHELOMANCY

I root around a bit more… I find another word…

NELADORACHT

Neladoracht – the practice of cloud divination used by the Druids.

Druids sent up to the summits of mountains or nearby hills to consult the clouds when Kings and Queens wanted to glimpse the future…

LOL oh… that makes sense! How did I not see that before?

Ha! I’ve just taken a Bank Holiday away day tour with The Hermit without even having to leave my sofa…

Both of us with heads in the clouds…

See that’s another reason I like to Borderectomy… No borders… Free to travel and travel for free! 😀

 

 

Face(less)book encounters…

Social media intrigues me…

Or I guess, more correctly, people intrigue me…

I spent many years working in a Casino and to the uninitiated, well… it’s exciting and glamorous…

The reality…

Well… interesting…

If you’re inclined to people watch… then even more interesting, doubly so, as you get paid to indulge your obsession…

See… people think that croupiers get paid to deal the games…

The reality…

Well… the dealing is the tiniest part, the smallest detail…

The main reason you are there is to spot cheats… the eye is smarter than the camera’s eye in the sky and many eyes from many angles can’t be easily blocked…

When it comes to social media, it occurs to me that it is very much like having a global gaming pit in your living room…

All the players are there…

The fake IDs and frequent name changes…

The bluffing, the blagging…

Poker face public persona…

Mr Big! Mr Don’t you know who I am?!

The Sharks…

The Lampreys…

Old ladies feigning dottiness…

Acting out…

Faux dramas

Pointing fingers, blaming shaming…

Distracting…diverting…

Top hatters late betting…

Hoping to not get busted…

Croupiers…

 Very rarely watch faces…

The shows and tells, are often shoes and smells…

The body leaking tics, jigging feet beneath the steady hand above the baize….

Croupiers… they watch… they remember… they see the quirks… the patterns… the signals…

The old guy who always twists sideways in his chair and drapes his right arm over the back when he is moments away from blowing his stack…

It was a fine art that old school dealers prided themselves on…

Knowing the punter… clocking his swagger as he entered the room…

Who’s he with? What’s he up to? What’s he calling himself this week?

Old croupiers… they knew the game…

It was never about dealing cards…

More about reading people…

Old croupiers… with wry laughter and lopsided respect for angry losers who tried to tip the tables…

Ranting, raging, spitting, cursing, tossing chips, flinging profanities…

Byronesque anti-heroes! Mad, bad and dangerous to know!

In the faceless world of the cyber(r)age…

I see all this too…

Though in pixels it strikes me as

Drab! Sad! I just don’t wanna know…

In life, tantrums come and go, heave and flow and are soon forgot as many memories rewrite events and tell tales to glorify Joe less than average into some kind of Urban Myth…

Details lost as quickly as micro-expressions that flit across furtive faces…

Tics and snipes lost in time…

In social media…

You can never die…

Even if you delete/deactivate/block/ignore…

Somewhere, someone has your eFootprints loitering in their account…

The strikes on a keyboard… the clicks, the likes…

Echoing for all eternity…

In cyberspace…

Everyone can hear you scream…

The Draw That Brakes…

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It’s blog hop time and dear old Morgan Drake Eckstein set what I seem to recall as a very considered and thoughtful topic but which my brain went… I’ll take those words and run…

‘Feel free to expand upon this idea a lot from the original thought.’

So…

Distasteful cards…

Well…

I’m getting kind of tired with the naming and shaming

The usual suspects...

The usual suspects…

And as much as I dream of a life with everything perfectly arranged…

Tree of Life

Fact is…

I’m always going to

ENJOY THE GLORIOUS COLOURFUL MESS!

IMG_4163

I could ramble on for some time about…

about…

well…

anything really…

you must have noticed that about me by now…

I’m almost edging my way to…

oh… distasteful people…

But mmm… let me check…

 I’m hitting my quota for social suicides fairly highly of late…

So while I  cha cha cha as my feet dance, one replacing the other, in my mouth…

You can sing-a-long with this…

Oh!!

How do I get my clients to deal with tricky cards…

Ah…

With card tricks…

I keep a few up my sleeve…

Sorry guys…

A Magician never reveals…

😉

I'm the real Magician

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