Pencil Power

Pencils whilst quite useful for drawing, easing our ear wax, nostril cleaning and probing foreign objects that look decidedly unappetising they can also provide hours of amusement in other ways. Maybe 'hours' was stretching it but a few minutes diversion at the very least. Lets start with a jape, tell your friend or colleague that your pencil has been specially developed to write any colour, ask which colour they prefer to see your pencil write.

Voila! The miracle pencil that mysteriously can write any colour! You can add variants to this such as my pencil can write exactly like a pen, after disbelief from your friends simply write 'exactly like a pen'. I'm sure you can come up with many, many more and keep yourself and onlookers amused in post office queues, banks and when signing your name on important documents like last wills and testaments. One for the brave though is announce to a random stranger that you can draw their portrait in five seconds, wait for them to finish saying "no you can't" and "go on then" then simply draw a school cock. Be prepared to run after this pencil jape as most strangers may not see the funny side even though the portrait may be accurate.

Don't you hate it when this happens? Well make the best of a bad job by following this little tutorial 'The Rubber Wrecker'. This one involves a bit of work but it can be left as a joke mine, one to go off unexpected a little later. Simply take the broken lead and put it to one side and find a pencil, preferably someone else's, with a small rubber on the end.

Using a compass point or something sharp (watch your fingers!) poke the rubber it make a small hole.

Carefully insert the piece of lead you saved until you cannot see it then wet the rubber end end rub lightly on a piece of cloth to clean it up. Place the pencil somewhere it will be used.

Then laugh uncontrollably as any attempt to erase causes mayhem. Imagine the fun as your boss takes notes in a meeting only to have his work ruined, hilarious I'm sure. As you can see I have run out of ideas today and possibly if you followed my advice you have got the sack too.

It's never a good idea to do a five second portrait of your boss.

Or maybe it is.

 

www.petersmithcollective.co.uk Home Of Everything Impossimal

The Doctors Big Adventure

Travelling in his extraordinary postbox shaped time machine that moves through time and space under severe restrictions such as only being able to travel between 9am and 5pm on the same day and only being able to transport himself to supermarkets Doctor Do's adventures are legendary amongst Do Do's, the Doctors biggest fans, let us join the Doctor on his latest adventure.

Doctor Do and the Horlicks

A freak electrical problem on the Doctors postbox time machine caused by a passing inebriated member of the public urinating through his post slot finds our Doctor flying out of control sometime around 12:33pm on a Saturday only to find himself at a unknown location...

The Doctor stepped out of the postbox covered in last nights mail and smelling of wee, it had been a rough one he thought to himself, "I wonder where I am?". The place was filled with a familiar setting, trolleys were in the entrance, tills to the right and snacks and newspapers in front of him. "Hmm, seems familiar but something's wrong. Where is the comforting green text of Waitnose or the orangeness of Saintburys? All I can see is blues, yellows and reds. I must investigate further."

Before the Doctor could take it all in thundering through the door came a family of, well, a family. A chain smoking couple dressed in leisure wear approached pushing a trolley, twenty six kids followed each one eating a slice of Billy Bear and sporting a language the Doctor instantly recognised as pottymouth, a dialect that seemed to be on the increase. They swarmed around the Doctor in their eagerness to get to the frozen chips and the Doctor found himself swept further and further into the supermarket.

As they all swarmed away to look at frozen pizzas the Doctor suddenly realised where he was. "Noooooooooo!!!!!!". He was in Libl. In serious danger the Doctor pulled out his sonic ballpoint pen, it didn't do anything he just called it that because it sounded cool at parties, he spoke softly to his ballpoint comforter as he had not yet realised that a pen friend is a completely different thing altogether. "Don't worry my little ball pen friend I will guide us to safety"

He was in the bakery area, that's not good either as they are always at the back of the store but he knew supermarkets like the back of his hand, if he went up the baking and egg aisle, through the crisps and snacks he would then need to take a right at the fizzy pop then a quick left through the tills avoiding the small temptations stacked along side them and the special offers that seem so enticing.

Avoiding any type of contact the good Doctor weaved and dodged through the surging throng of bargain shoppers doing their big shop to make it as far as the salted peanuts when he realised that this store had fooled him, no longer was things ordered and easy to find, he was in the supermarket equivelent of Pyremark. Double trouble. Each aisle was unlike any he had witnessed before they all looked like a jumble sale, salted nuts next to tinned peas, beans next to pasta, it was all so wrong. In bewilderment he wandered around the next corner and along the sauce aisle. He couldn't help himself, he had to reorganise things, "Order must be maintained!" he screamed, "Or the space time continuum and my shopping list will be ruined!"

Working like a demon the Doctor scooped up an armful of tinned tomatoes, "These need to go near the tinned beans, then all the pasta shapes need to go near the spaghetti, then chocolate near the crisps, so much to do so little time!" As the Doctor run around the corner with six tins of beans he heard a shout over his shoulder. "Oi! what do you think your doing?". it was a Libl Lumpa, the guardians of the aisles and creator of the mayhem he was now trying to put right. Dropping the tins he ran as fast as he could down the coffee aisle, if he was caught it was all over and Libl would take over the world.

He ran that fast he didn't see the eight foot display of chocolate Horlicks. The good Doctor was found under three hundred and seventy two boxes of the stuff that had taken three weeks to construct, they were on offer too, not that it did the Doctor much good as he was restrained and taken to the managers office pending charges.

Next Week witness the Doctor as he tackles his greatest foe yet, in the Doctor Do Post Office Conga Queue.

 

www.petersmithcollective.co.uk Home Of Everything Impossimal

W.C. Boggs & Son

I really wish I had taken a picture or at least read fully one of the most intriguing signs I have seen in a long time. Quite simply it was a product recall from a local DIY store, attached to a toilet was a warning informing customers of said toilet that it was dangerous. Now think about that, dangerous. It's a strong word for a toilet, I'd describe toilets as awkward, cold, even alarming if you have ever sat down quickly in the dark not realising the seat was up so dangerous intrigued me. Unfortunately I was in a hurry and it only registered what I had saw as I reached the car.

What on earth made it dangerous? It has a tendency to shatter if hit by a particularly heavy stool? Or maybe it has a weight limit, exceed it and find yourself on the floor surrounded by sewage nursing a backside impaled with shards of porcelain. What if it has a lavish flush that fires uncontrollably like a geyser to deposit it's contents regularly onto the roof? Or maybe the toilet seat has a tendency to snap back like a crocodile clip with hilarious results. The mind boggles but fantasy is never far from reality, a recent news story from the United States reported that millions of faulty flush mechanisms had been causing toilets to explode with many receiving laceration injuries. Ouch!

One of the funniest lavatorial humour I found on the net was a photo of graffiti that had been scrawled in a toilet cubicle, quite simply it said 'Rate Your Experience' then added 'Using A Movie Title'. I tittered, then smirked, then did a big belly laugh as I read some of the ratings. Black Beauty and The Departed were funny but I started to crack up at One Flew Out Of The Cuckoos Nest, The Blob and The Fast and Furious. By the time I had reached Grease, Max Payne and Magnum Force I was rolling about uncontrollably.

I'm sure you can think of many others but on that puerile note and as its Sunday I will leave you with one more, Tarka The Otter.

 

www.petersmithcollective.co.uk Home Of Everything Impossimal

SAW IIIVV - The Key To That Chain Is In The Bathtub

The latest addition in which to maim myself arrived at the beginning of the week, a scroll saw, another tool to help with building the Impossimal sets I seem to be creating at the moment. No longer content with building the electrics like last week I'm now obsessed with set design too. Over the last few days I have built half a street, including drainpipes, manhole covers, iron railings and even a railway bridge to sit at the end. It may all seem a bit much going to such trouble but it does allow you more freedom when placing an Impossimal in a painting, allowing me to try out angles and situations without the need for redrawing on canvas.

The scroll saw for a start is normally a sign that you are over the hill and decided that cutting out wooden ducks or letters is a pleasant hobby and before long you are sat at a craft stall waiting your first buyers convinced you will make £££'s. For me though its more of a lethal sewing machine with a means to an end, no wooden ducks will be emanating from my saw I can tell you, well, maybe one just to see what all the fuss is about.

Cutting a bit of wood with the saw should be quite straight forward, you put the wood down and push it, simple. Not so simple, for a start all the books I have read tell you that the blades make the wood travel slightly causing you to compensate by pushing more to the right, add to this vibration, which even when fastened to the desk is enough to rattle your teeth, and the speed of the blade which makes one small slip one big trip to A&E.

So my first go was a bit of a roller coaster, it started off as Ooo, this is easy to Whoooah!!! that was close followed by a quick counting of my digits to make sure they were all there. The wood goes in easy enough but twisting and turning it as it travels through the saw is where all the excitement is, if the blade comes within a loose already cut side it decides to play with it a little by jarring it then bouncing it like a bucking bronco. Luckily I had already read about this potential problem so used a pencil with an eraser on the end to steady it. ZZZzzzzzip, the pencil took the brunt of the bucking and it was sliced neatly in half, lucky old me, that could have been my finger I chortled. Emboldened by my good luck I chose an unsuitable piece of thin wood and began to play, zip, zip, zip, slash. Oops.

Mopping up the blood from my new cut I put on the tough gardening gloves then noticed a small plastic box at the bottom of the cardboard one the saw came in. Silly old me, it was a safety guard to stop said fingers from sliding into the slicer. Now I had a shield I could try all sorts of things.

A pencil lay in four pieces, a dried up tube of paint revealed its innards, a tube of toothpaste made a mess, bacon cuts a treat and as a bonus greases the blades with a not too unpleasant bacony aroma which changes to cooked bacon when you crank up the speed and cut vegetables. Mesmerised by the up and down action I supposed I did get carried away and it's only when Jayne noticed the toothpaste was missing did I fess up and stop.

So in a corner of the studio it stands, lethal, fun and smelling strangely of peppermint bacon awaiting its first major project early next week when I will be building a boat, a table and cutting out wooden ducks to sell on eBay. Whatever next?

I know, a funky bacon shop where all the bacon is cut into groovy shapes, bacon baps with bacon cut like a dog, any bacon any shape, it shall be called Bangin' Bacon Ltd. Forget the slicer have your bacon professionally shaped by our team of skilled scroll saw operatives, impress friends and neighbours with individually cut slices in the shape of their name. Throwing a dinner party? No problem, our portable Baconette Van will visit and cut on site, imagine your guests as they are greeted to a full joint of ham deliciously cut to look like a wooden duck. Priceless.

 

www.petersmithcollective.co.uk Home Of Everything Impossimal

Service Announcement

Finally, after releasing four new Impossimals at the beginning of the month they should all reach the galleries this weekend. Each limited edition has something special about them, 'The Lovers' has been printed on a gold canvas to give a lustre that would be hard to achieve any other way whilst 'Forever Together' has a high gloss sheen on a heavy gauge paper to increase colour depth.

'Home Comforts' shown above is printed canvas mounted on board, an additional gloss layer brings out the shadows of this piece whilst the addition of working from a real model to produce the painting gives extra depth and realistic lighting.

The last piece 'One at a Time Please' completes the four Autumn releases, full details can be found on our website at http://www.petersmithcollective.co.uk/new.html, or by clicking the Autumn 2012 button on the main screen.

This has been an advert on behalf of the Impossimal Broadcasting Company, bringing you Impossimal sunshine every day of the week. Apologies for the break in randomness but the blog will be back tomorrow with its usual blend of madness and a tale involving the latest addition to the Impossimal studio, a scroll saw and the real possibility of losing a few digits in the process.

 

www.petersmithcollective.co.uk Home Of Everything Impossimal

Oi, Oi, Check Out Me New Rims M8

Shiver me timbers and burst your barnacles, yesterday was talk like a pirate day and I completely missed it so as way of celebrating such an important date today we are going to start a new day, no its not pirates this time instead I want you to have Chavitude. Believe me, it'll change your life.

So let's say you are going to a local hostelry to have a small drink with friends, with Chavitude you would be in fact 'gonna git proper wasted innit'. Now apply this to your everyday living and enjoy your day, I'll give you a few examples to get you started.

You are in the doctors waiting to have your poorly thumb looked at after an attractive friend accidentally cut it preparing a delightful meal during a nights drinking. The correct way to get across your problem with Chavitude is thus 'get dis, I got rat arsed yo and a boomting homie merked me thumb'. When they bandage it up and send you home you can tell them 'you iz da bomb'

in a queue at the supermarket a fellow shopper accidentally bumps you with their trolley. The correct Chavitude is to immediately raise your voice and say 'Yo Yo Yo, I have no beef with you dog, Know wha' I'm sayin' then stick two fingers up and push their trolley away from your person.

Arriving at important functions with style, approach any events like this by swaggering, it would help to make sure your trousers are fastened with a belt at knee height and don't forget to wear a hood or cap of some kind for full effect. Kick open the door and announce your entrance using this phrase 'Wat r u gawpin' at' then repeatedly say 'Brap, brap, brap' whist pointing at everybody around you with your index finger and using your thumb as a trigger. Blow pretend smoke away from said finger when done.

Selecting shoes in a shoe shop can be rather daunting at times but should you find the shoes that fit your needs you can point them out to the assistant using this rather handy Chavitude phrase 'Yo sket, can I has those bangin bling creps'

As you can see having Chavitude can really increase your respect on the street, improve your job potential and make you appear confident, intelligent and refined. Enjoy Chavitude, it really is the end of life as we know it.

 

www.petersmithcollective.co.uk Home Of Everything Impossimal

Tales of Intriguing Unexplained Mystery Of The Unknown

Written in 1967 this book has always intrigued me with its outlandish tales of everything from Amazon warriors to the riddle of Marshal Ney and I have often wondered if any of them are true. Some of the chapters are quite bold in their account, Symphonies of Death details pieces of music that will kill you whilst The Man Who Flew Like A Bird is the account of Dr Suarte's pursuit of a missing scientist only to find he has mastered flying using some kind of winged contraption deep in the Guatemalan highlands. My particular favourites are The Curse Of Captain Kidds Gold, a swashbuckling romp with tales of fragmented maps and greed and The Search For Noahs Ark, detailing photographs of an object five hundred feet in length and a hundred wide taken by Russian reconnaissance planes in 1944 on top of the 16,946 Mount Ararat and the recovery of a wooden beam from a similar location.

See, that's where the silly book leaves you with more questions than answers but really I read it time and time again because each article is so well written it doesn't matter if it's true or not if it's entertaining. It's looking a bit battered nowadays and I can't remember where I got it from but it joins a long list of books that I rotate reading. Anyway, here's a story they forgot to add.

The Duffield Drink

In 1972 fresh attempts were being made to penetrate some of the remote areas of Borneo in search of new species. Colonel Duffield, an experienced explorer and hunter led his team of five through six months of hell to eventually reach an area called Intotoba. It was not what they expected, the thick jungle had given way to a lush clearing totally unexpected this deep in. Around the area was scattered remains of a lost civilisation, several ancient walls still stood alongside an almost intact temple. Who were these people and where had they gone?

They set up camp pleased with their new discovery and in the following days managed to catalogue over a hundred new plant species and several unknown insects. They had even managed to enter the temple after removing a fallen stone slab with a makeshift block and tackle but found little inside. Then just as they were about to depart after a weeks encampment Colonel Duffield made one more discovery of a fallen statue that had become wedged behind some kind of ritual table at the back of the temple. Picking it up the statue was of a stone human holding a cup to the sky on a wooden base. Curious he thought, the base was triangular, a peculiarity that made no sense. Then he noticed the triangular hole in the centre of the table, you could only just see it as heavy growth had almost covered it. Excitedly he cut away the vines and cleared the hole. The statues base fitted perfectly.

Too perfectly, for just then he heard a whooshing sound, looking up just as a torrent of green liquid poured down from above filling his mouth. Colonel Duffield did not choke, for the liquid tasted sweet, tropical and above all delicious. In moments his mouth was singing, he was dancing and the liquid poured and poured until overcome with such rapture he passed out.

When he awoke the ground was dry, was it just a delusion? No, he could still taste a little of the nectar and his clothes carried a slight green colour stain. Carefully he picked up the statue and slipped it in his pocket.

This is where our story falters for no records exist of what happened to the Colonel apart from hus death certificate but it was rumoured that he returned to England and left the statue and map to a distant relative in his will. Trying to trace this has been impossible but records show that a few years after his death in 1983 a jungle related drink entered the market place called Um Bongo which showed all the signs of the mysterious liquid Duffield had enjoyed previously.

Had Colonel Duffield stumbled across a mythical Um Bongo producing temple all those years ago? You decide in the final chapter of Tales of Intriguing Unexplained Mystery Of The Unknown.

Tomorrow the strange case of The Man Who Went To Mars In A Dustbin, a sobering tale of a down and out inebriated man who found adventure when he least expected it.

 

www.petersmithcollective.co.uk Home Of Everything Impossimal

Des'O'Bygraves Are You Woolly Enough?

Maudlin Maude here dear, I love to knit and hum at the same time and I'm sure there are others like me that love real music so let's see, now you can take my Des'O'Bygraves Are You Woolly Enough? questionnaire to discover if you are one of us 'easy listeners' and if not why not?

Question One

Do you own a woolly jumper? If so, how many?

A) 1-2

B) 3-10

C) 10+ I wear nothing else but woolly jumpers.

D) zero and if anybody dares buy me one I'm going to roll it up and stuff it where the sun doesn't shine.

Question Two

Is Stairway to Devon a real song?

A) Yes, it was on the album Bridlington or Bust by Max Doonican

B) Maybe, I remember it could be from the compilation album, Colostomy - It's Not My Bag.

C) No, the real track is called One Night In Devon by the Wurzels.

Question Three

Which would you choose?

A) A voucher for Celtic Sheepskin.

B) A pair of matching rocking chairs and an open fire.

C) A long arm pickup stick to avoid bending over to change your old 78's

D) Listen to Radio Norfolk whilst knitting jumpers for dogs.

Question Four

Where is the best venue to listen to 'real' music?

A) Urmston Pigeon Club on a Friday night.

B) Weston Super Mare Pier

C) Wells Library in Norfolk

Question Five

Fill in the missing letters

D_s'o'Connor, Max Bygrav_s, Val Doonican.

ANSWERS

Q1 A=1 B=25 C=100 D=1000 (Correct answer is D, you watch people in woolly jumpers entertain you not the other way around, trick question see!)

Q2 A=1000 B=25 C=2000 (Correct answer is C as you are in denial)

Q3 A=1000 B=1000 C=1000 D=1000 (All are worthy pursuits so this was a trick question and you may have found it difficult to answer any particular one as they are all attractive to you)

Q4 A=30 B=500 C=1000 (Correct answer is of course C with its stadium seating arrangement that seats fifty on a good day)

Q5 Answer is 'e', bit difficult I know but give yourself 10,000 points if you solved it.

Des'O'Bygraves Are You Woolly Enough How Did You Do?

<100 Sorry, but you are just starting out on discovering this wonderful world of music, try watching the experts if you can find any VHS tapes of them and sit in a rocking chair occasionally, it will help.

101-1000 You know your stuff but your just a bit short of the woolly mark, I recommend buying the treasured Take It Easy box set containing 287 tracks on twenty cassettes, over twenty four hours of non stop music to make you horizontal. Featuring hits like Down With The Crumpits and It's a Long Way To Nasal Hairy you will be slow hand clapping like a motherflipper in seconds.

>1001 Wow, you are so woolly you shrink in the wash, or is that your age? Did you know you lose an inch every two years after forty five? Of course you did, anyway, you know that easy listening reigns supreme and that all the music of today sounds the same and the last decent song you hear was the Birdy Song, you even know all the moves and can show the kids of today how to strutt your boogie stuff or something like that, I forget so many things nowadays. Trams, they used to run every thirty seconds at the bottom of our street until Doris took a fancy to a young clipper and they found her upside down on the top floor covered in rose water. Punched her ticket he did, they never did run right after that, come to think of it she didn't walk right after that either.

I'm off to do my knitting wearing my bobble hat, I must get this tea cosy completed, I'm off to a concert tonight, it's a new band that a nice young gentleman said I should see, apparently they play all the classics with tunes you can hum to. Funny name though, don't know what they were thinking coming up with Cradle of Filth.

OMG! I just got back, it was so fast that I clapped until my nose bled, Harold my chaperone was carried off with heart palpitations after being hit by a bottle of urine. When Harold returned they played From Cradle To Enslaved and the resulting power chords shorted out his hearing aid with a whistle so loud it lifted his toupe, again he was carried off whilst I tripped which was mistaken for wanting to crowd surf and I was handled in places I hadn't been touched since the war. It was shocking, although I did get tickets for tomorrow night and I learnt a new word, Bitchin'

www.petersmithcollective.co.uk Home Of Everything Impossimal

Crackerjack

I must learn to buy my Christmas crackers a little more carefully this year after ending up with some shocking items previously. I know cracker manufacturers are like everyone else and have to trim costs but really, how much fun can I get from four dominos? The miniature packet of cards is just about right, mildly useful and entertaining whilst being pitched at the average cracker buyer. I mean who wouldn't want a pack of cards made for a squirrel?

Golf tees are another no,no unless another cracker contains a full size club and a portable hole, likewise are the utterly useless keying that looks like a puzzle. Come on guys it's a spring with a split ring, I'd look a right pillock getting that out anywhere I'd imagine. So yes, this year I must choose very carefully indeed.

Now here's the quandary, do you go for the delux versions? In my experience the more expensive the less of a bang and there's no joke or crap hat but you do occasionally get something more useful like a little torch or even a set of cuff links. It misses the point a little though, pretentious crackers in my opinion are less fun so I need something else.

In an ideal world I want the down and dirty crackers that bang with a flash of flame that singes the tops of your eyebrows and leaves you deaf for the next ten minutes, you may be in your own world unable to hear anybody but boy did you enjoy the excitement. After the flash bang I want to be left with a small amusing joke, a paper hat that looks like a pirates hat or something equally exciting and not those crappy ring of crepe paper ones with a zigzag edge and finally a small gift that you want to keep and not leave for your hosts to find the next day at the bottom of a glass of wine where you tried to hide it. Ideally the keys to an expensive car but that isn't going to happen so instead how about something to give a bit of guest interactivity like a small buzzer so you could do impromptu quizzes at the table, or how about some water to beer tablets? Not seen them? They are ace, you take any liquid, drop one in and it turns golden brown and gets a frothy head with no alteration of taste, how cools that?

I could think of a multitude of other objects to stick in them, all as warped but instead I will leave you with my most treasured unexplained cracker possession from a few years ago. A satisfactory bang, a silly hat, a joke that made every on groan then this splendid item...

A plastic pig nose to turn any vegetable into a pigetable. Awesome!

 

www.petersmithcollective.co.uk Home Of Everything Impossimal

Even MacGyver Wouldn't Make It

I spent the last two days modelling an Impossimal scene in the studio using similar techniques to the latest release "Home Comforts". The technical side of these models are increasing at such a rate I'm now needing lots of new equipment to cope with it, all home made of course. This particular model needed a small light to cast big shadows acting as a back light to the main scene. Not having a light handy or indeed small enough prompted me to pull out the tool kit and get stuck in.

I dismantled an old way too big torch for its nifty switch and bulb using screws and cable pins to fasten them to an off cut of wood, this was to be the wired remote control for the small light so I could sit behind the camera and set it off when required. A small spring was included to push the battery to the screw terminals on the left.

Carefully I soldered two wires to the screw terminals and then one back to the switch, the other wire was joined to the rest of the circuit that led to the bulb. Everything was then fixed with electrical tape. Basically the whole set up cost 0p, should you wish to construct this handy and nifty torch and be the envy of the street, you could even make them as gifts for Christmas so the family can marvel at the wonder of the new fangled electricity. Anyway, here's a parts list...

1 x 4"x1" bit of wood for mounting everything on. I used a cut off from the compost bin but you could posh it up with mahogany or oak.

5 x Wood screws to fix in the battery, any type but again brass ones look posher.

1 x Spring, use this to push the battery to the terminals as shown. For an economy version use tightly coiled newspaper.

1 x Switch, any switch will do, even an old light switch fitting, for those without switches loop the ends of your wires to look like a C, this way you can join them together when you want to switch it on and pull them apart for instant darkness, simples!

1 x 2m of wire, mine is made from old doorbell wire but yours could be made out of anything that conducts, joined paperclips make an ideal substitute whilst at the other end of the spectrum bacon is unsuitable due to its tendency to cook.

1 x 9v Battery, I wouldn't recommend anything stronger as it will probably blow the bulb, also don't lick the battery terminals unless you like your tongue to spasm and you to wet yourself.

1 x 6v Bulb, any less and it will probably glow like the surface of the sun before showering you with glass when you connect the battery, step it up to a twelve volt one and it will look like a candle three miles away. Don't be tempted to string together enough batteries either to use a 240v bulb, the resulting bang and shock will act like a electronic scrambler and it will erase all data from every electrical item within two miles and again you will wet yourself and forget who you are for a day.

Err, that's about it apart from some tools like a screwdriver, hammer for the cable pins I forgot to tell you about, some soldering equipment (don't get this confused with welding equipment, I did and the first torch I made is now three carbonised molecules on a badly charred workbench).

So now you know how to make this elegant small torch or desk lamp, mine as you can see is beautifully placed to enhance its surrounding of balsa wood and hot glue, simple perfection in this Tiffany style light.

Made one already? Then why not display it on our online gallery at www.imadeacraptorch.tat.com

Next stop QVC and my handy torch kit or the T-it for short, only £0.23p plus £4.99 delivery, buy one today!

 

www.petersmithcollective.co.uk Home Of Everything Impossimal

Splish Splash NSFW

 

It's been a number of years since I have been swimming, around seven if I remember correctly. It's not that I didn't like it it's just that it fell out of habit and a regular session dropped off to once a month then never a year. So when a leaflet dropped through the door offering three free sessions at a local gym/spa/pool combi I decided to give it a go, Jayne was already a member so it should be great and I'll trim up a bit more.

Well, dear blog, I'm a sensitive type so walking into a testosterone filled changing room full of burly naked men will always fill me with trepidation but in I went clutching my little towel and trunk filled bag. My things have changed, now I was greeted to a pleasant, empty and clean changing area aligned with neat little storage units as opposed to the old beaten up unlockable type that used to look like they had been filled with a festival of litter and emanated the stench of bad aftershave with titles like Rammer and Stallionfest. Quite often I used to take a carrier bag to put my stuff in after one day finding a stuffed beaver in a locker, no seriously, I thought it was a beaver, it turned out it was a hairpiece but that's a different and strangely colourful story. The hairpiece wasn't for the head.

I chose a locker and started to undress, bending down I heard a phone ring then a gruff "Ello?" from around the corner. I wasn't alone. It seems times have changed and it's perfectly natural to walk around a changing room completely stark balloon naked whilst conducting man business on the phone. Striding past at head height, for I was still bent over fiddling with the locker, I received a view that could only be described as the full monty whilst listening to a conversation along the lines of "...tell I'm it's me, Big Mike, I'll shut his mouth for him." I smirked, obviously his name defied the trade descriptions act. It went on and he strode past three times getting more irate with each passing. I knew his phone call had ended when he disappeared around the corner and shouted "tosser" to no one in particular.

Not a great start then. As I emerged from the changing room to an awaiting Jayne I was greeted to quite a pleasant sight, I was expecting just a pool filled with people and a stern lifeguard walking around threatening swimmers. Instead I got a pool nearly empty, a jacuzzi, sauna and steam room. Nice.

A quick shower later, for now you must shower between each area, I dipped in for the first time in years, chose a lane, which again was a revelation from being used to swimming around people, and had a nice little swim up and down. A few people were milling about in the water, a serious swimmer ploughed up and down to my right, a gentleman stood in one corner paddling away and a family to my left was taking photos of something splashing around. I couldn't really see clearly what it was and it was only as I was passing on the return I saw it was a baby. Only it did a peculiar thing as I passed, it turned to look at me and it's face changed. It went from "Wheeee! I'm enjoying this and I want to giggle and laugh!" to a down turned mouth that said "Soon."

It disturbed me a little but I carried on even though it repeated it again as I passed. Six, seven, eight, the lengths I was swimming mounted and my heart rate started to speed up so on my ninth length as I was approaching the baby family I was breathing quite quickly taking in that little bit of water you do occasionally so imagine my horror as I got level with them when I heard a "Uh ho."

"We need to change her quickly before it leaks."

I did a retch breath, you know the one, your drinking and it goes down the wrong hole so you retch so hard it sounds like a dog yaking on a bone. Only this time I was horizontal. Have you ever tried to keep your mouth shut for fear of sucking something in when your whole body is demanding oxygen? I know if I had opened it I would have been catapulted backwards leaving a floating trail of vomit as I tried to eject what I may have swallowed. It was probably some of the hardest swimming I have ever done as I panic swam out of the area. I looked back at the peculiar coloured patch of water drifting over to my lane.

Feeling faint I decided to haul myself out and pop in the steam room to recover. Never been in one before never will again. A wall of heat and eucalyptus nearly floored me and I started to gag again, not my day is it? Staggering out of the steam room I half collapsed into the strangely dark sauna and sat down. This was better, a dry heat that I could stand. As my eyes adjusted to the gloom I noticed a pair of feet across from me. Mr Full Monty from the changing rooms was lounging on the opposite bench eyeing me with questioning eyes.

"Not seen you before"

How do you answer a question like this? "No mate, not seen you either but then again I have never seen Big Foot, Snow White played by Brian Blessed or a polar bears anus". It's very difficult to hold a conversation with a stranger that you have seen naked at close quarters, who you know is prone to ripping off 'mates' heads and goes around with a name that includes a size in it. Uncomfortable.

The jacuzzi was a revelation. It's the first time I have been able to sit with several strangers whilst torrents of air filled my swimming wear to almost bursting point. Even more alarming was the air inflated them so quickly that the front popped out of the top of the water to my and everyone else's astonishment. I kept them entertained by trying to beat back my ballooning swimwear whilst not looking like I was in some way attempting a perverse form of gratification to the surrounding audience and indeed the security camera that had swung my way.

"Relaxed?" asked Jayne as I was escorted from the premises. Apparently urinating in the water was not the right thing to do, although looking back I could have been more discreet than doing it from the side.

 

www.petersmithcollective.co.uk Home Of Everything Impossimal

Scrawl

Just got back from checking and signing off the Autumn Impossimal releases at the publishers prior to them being stretched and mounted over the next few days before reaching the galleries. The Lovers, one of the prints is actually quite special, its been printed on a gold canvas. Look at the bottom of the photo and you will see on one of the Impossimals the neck changes from white to gold as it reaches the edge. To further enhance the colours a heavy varnish has been added, this was more a last minute thing and it's been applied to all four images in the Autumn collection. Additionally "One at a time please" has been reproduced at my smallest ever size coming in at a comfortable 12'' x 12". I'll bring you more details as and when they will be available to view.

So, with that signed off its back to the studio for more Impossimal model making, a browse through some old magazines and a look through two crates of old LP's that I had forgotten we had.

 

www.petersmithcollective.co.uk Home Of Everything Impossimal

Zucchinisnakeyette

Every year we grow courgettes, I don't know why because every year we have the same problem, what to do with them. We have tried everything to make them enjoyable, from grilling slices coated in garlic olive oil and sprinkled with Parmesan to adding them to a ragu, all with the same results of biting into a wet sponge and tasting like, well, like the word bland. If words had taste when you said them I'd rename courgettes disappointments which exactly describes the taste too.

I think my problem comes from they way it has the ability to hold on to all the heat and concentrate it in its watery contents so one bite and it's like the centre of the earth has been poured into your mouth, that's probably not quite true if like me you believe the centre of the earth not to be full of molten lava but instead populated by bowler hat wearing unicycling monkeys doing the wall of death, if they ever stop boy are we in trouble, gravity would not exist and Earth would stop spinning so keep on peddling my little primates.

Where was I? Rambling on again no doubt, I wonder if I have some kind of attention deficit disorder? Oh, puppies! Hey Macarena! I love lollipops.

Courgettes or vegetarian sausages from the devils own larder, have, this year decided to go berserk after a move from a small bed to the new Bunnyopolis veg bed. No longer are we getting sporadic fruit, now we are getting five a week each the size of donkeys doo-dahs. One that I dare not even approach is now the size of the Graf Zepplin and I swear if I carved out it would make a handy canoe for six. So what do we do?

Feeding them to the residents of Bunnyopolis is one idea but there is only a small amount their diet can handle, giving them away is another option but how many do you give away before "hey, thanks guys!" changes to "gee, another courgette, thanks."

So in the interest of science I made a fine sculpture, may I present Grass Snake Slithering Through Fallen Autumn Apples.

If you think that's good wait until you see my other 'Courgetture' sculpture, "Donkey Exposing a Trist Between Two Rampant Naked Sheep Whilst Mooning a Pig". From the looks of people's faces I have made a good job of impressing the neighbours, especially as I found the perfect use for the three foot one I had been saving, donkey would be so proud.

 

www.petersmithcollective.co.uk Home Of Everything Impossimal

Gum My Buffers

Hand up if you remember Stanley Gibbons. No, not that well known window cleaner with arms like an monkey more along the lines of the finest purveyors of stamps known to man. I remember them more from their stamp club, a club that allowed you to visit parts of the world through their stamps, something undreamed of in a time before instant widespread communication. Imagine getting through the post stamps from exotic places like Greenland, Grenada and Cuba, who for some strange reason always used to show satellites and government buildings on their stamps, it felt exciting.

OK, that's about how much excitement I can muster over stamp collecting at the moment, whilst being a noble pastime it did get awfully boring sometimes. So to brighten things up a little I used to go for the more, how shall we say, unusual variety. For example, I have a particularly vivid one from Czechoslovakia of a dog sniffing another dogs bottom. From Bulgaria I have an impressive dark green stamp of a steamroller printed on what feels like newspaper. Taiwan stamps on the other hand in the 70's featured a lot of happy workers and serious leaders, whilst Germany, before 1945 had some of the smallest stamps I have ever seen and they looked like they were printed on a child's John Bull printing press. Nicaragua had the only awesome stamp of a sea creature killing a dinosaur amidst a blood bath in the sea, thrilling stuff! My favourite though was the single stamp I have from Egypt, a land of mystery and it seems leaders who on their stamps look exactly like a Zoltar machine from the film Big, all fezzed up, lots of medals and with an enigmatic look that tells you don't flip with me I'm on a stamp.

My interest waned when it dawned on me that endlessly filing square bits of paper on little flaps of gummed hinges was maybe a tad off putting to members of the opposite sex, instead I replaced it with train spotting, well, at least it got me out in the fresh air.

You should see the size of the sexy buffers on a 221 Ribble Roller Intercity 53, phwoar!

 

www.petersmithcollective.co.uk Home Of Everything Impossimal

Newsround

For those that have never seen it the Weekly World News is an incredible source of information, not that it's all true of course but for sheer entertainment value its probably second to none. This old 1997 issue had so many revelations that I reeled from its vast knowledge and my own ignorance. Not really, but it was quite amusing.

To give you an idea of what it's like here's a few of its headlines, see if you can decide which are true and which stretch the imagination a little. "Wise Guy Bares Bottom on Highway and Gets Slammed into the Hereafter" - witnesses say he was standing on the highway with his pants down. True? I'd give it a 50/50.

"Space Aliens Drained My Blood Then Filled My Veins With a Mysterious Yellow Fluid" this probably stretches the imagination a little so I'd stick at 1/10

"All Cars To Have Ejection Seats By 2001", I think we all know that this one is a bit suspect, but then again what is that button for under the steering wheel? Maybe I should give it a try.

"Town Celebrates 45-Foot-Tall Goat Made Of Rice" I'd like to think this is entirely true but when I tried to find pictures of said goat all I found was the exact same article printed in 1994, I really wanted to see a goat made out of rice. Sob.

"Six Year Old Brats Feed Babysitter To Poodles" Words fail to describe what I'm thinking, the article even has pictures of the six year olds and the babysitter next to the poodle. Mmm.

Now my favourite, "DIETERS BEWARE! Don't Lick Stamps If You Want To Lose Weight" I love this because it's wrong on so many levels, the article goes on to describe that one lick of a stamp is the equivelent to one-tenth of a calorie and those looking to lose weight should consider self adhesive versions. Priceless.

Still, previous famous issues have included "Bat Child Found In Cave", "12 U.S. Senators Are Aliens" and the awesome "Woman Killed By Fur Coat - Full Length Mink Coat Comes Alive and Bites Widow to Death". Fabulous headlines and the reason I will buy only the Weekly World News to catch up with all the latest real world happenings.

I just wished they would use my headline "Twenty Foot Rabbit Hutch Called Bunnyopolis With Artwork and Carpets For Three Giant Rabbits", hang on, would I believe that if I read it?

 

www.petersmithcollective.co.uk Home Of Everything Impossimal

J.Okes

This made me laugh a lot this morning, I found it on the back of a very old joke book and before you add it, yes I know, all my jokes are old. It's an advert for taking exercise. As the blurb says "Don't kid yourself any longer, you're not proud of your body...the only attention you get is ridicule and abuse...other fellows walk off with the prettiest girls and the best jobs...it works for weak men, fat and skinny men- men like you who had all but given up" Gee, thanks for that pep talk, I had a complex about it before and now you have just made me want to curl up in a ball and sob. Not quite sure if our advert model is looking at the scantly clad female or at the contents of his budgie smugglers, either way its unnerving me. Anyway, old Charles Atlas and his dynamic tensioning is still going strong so it must be good which brings me on to part of today's blog, deep fried Mars bars and the strange case of a disclaimer issued to the creator of said fried bar announcing that Mars does not approve or condone deep fried Mars bars as it goes against their principles of promoting a healthy active lifestyle.

So instead I have decided to come up with a healthy Mars Atlas Fried diet lifestyle that will help you increase your muscle tone, fry food and eat a Mars bar whilst burning off those calories. For this you will need a washing machine, a deep fat fryer, two carrier bags of sand, a building brick and twenty four Mars bars. Stop being a slob, just look in the mirror you scarecrow, nows the time to become superhuman with the new Mars Atlas Fried Diet System, it's so not a diet it's just like eating real food on an electrical appliance.

Step one - warm your deep fat fryer up an place it next to your washing machine along with the Mars bars.

Step two - remove all your clothes for maximum wobble and put each arm through the carrier bag handle and let it rest on your wrists. You will already notice that everything takes a lot more effort due to the 24lbs of sand in the bags, that is good, it means it's working and you are well on your way to shedding fat and building muscle.

Step three - place the brick in the washing machine and sit on it. Set it to the fastest spin and hang on, the brick will throw off the centre point of your washing machine and your body will compensate by wobbling violently. Occasionally the washing machine will move with you on it, if you pass a window during this phase don't be afraid to wave to neighbours.

Step four - unwrap a Mars bar and dip in batter (forgot to tell you that bit but it's easily prepared whilst on the washing machine, just don't get any sand in it from the swaying bags on your arms). Carefully deep fry the Mars bar, this is the dangerous bit as occasionally Mars bars can be underdone so make sure you cook it well at temperatures approaching molten lava.

Step five - Eat Mars bar. Essentially all that swaying, jigging, wobbling that you have hardly noticed has burnt off 1000's of calories so go ahead stuff your self silly with deep fried confectionary until the spin cycle stops, that's you cue that the diet has worked. You will step off the washing machine feeling like a new person. Walk out side and punch something with your new sledgehammer fists and surging power fuelled rippling muscles.

NB Effects differ for different body shapes and ages, please consult a doctor, a vet and a chiropodist before starting this new regime, oh, and inform your fire brigade you are about to try stunt frying and they should be ready for any accidents. Also inform your local accident unit to be on standby to cope with broken limbs, possible burns and baby oil for your new rippling hulk of a body.

Any way, before I go I must show you this in the same book, it's a classic joke advertisement, these things were cool but ultimately you realised you were going to be a tad disappointed when your £1.20 giant skeleton was I fact made of cardboard, I'm still bemused why the advert says it would be good fun in the bedroom.

The reason this is in today's blog is my one vivid memory of using Exploding Cigarette Whiz Bangs, basically small triangular bits of card impregnated with gunpowder. These were billed as 'After a few puffs - bang! - and watch them jump'. What it didn't say was if your eight and you put one in your Granadads cigarette you had better be prepared to run like hell.

It was easy, he was out of the room so I opened his packet and placed one in the end of a cigarette and returned it to the packet, like a bit of cigarette based russian roulette I thought he would find it amusing and we would all laugh and say what a fantastic jape it was. Reality bit as he raised the cigarette to his lips and struck a match.

BOOM!!!!! Shake the room!

Not only did the thing explode with one blinding flash of light showering the room with tobacco but it blew the match into his lap and was starting its own bush fire as I watched. Apparently I had not stuck it in enough, the force of the explosion reduced his brand new cigarette to just the filter and set fire to his eyebrows. A small mushroom cloud rose above his head and a soot like deposit covered his hands. To say he looked surprised was an understatement, if you can imagine Wile-e Coyote after a stick of dynamite he was holding had exploded you are half way there.

I ran.

Still, I never learned when a few months later I tried a similar trick only this time with a new item The North Pole Blizzard, needless to say, no one was amused.

 

www.petersmithcollective.co.uk Home Of Everything Impossimal

Cheap Drunk

A little trip into town and a bit of a treat, cockles and peas, the Mansfield equivalent of London's pie and mash and very tasty it was too on this sunny but blustery day. On our journey into town we use the cycle route, a popular shortcut used by many only today it had a mysterious trail to follow...

It started quite innocently with a discarded Rolo milkshake, a common enough bit of rubbish not to draw too much attention but next to it around six paces further was a can of something called a Ripper. Not quite sure what type of popular beverage it is but it did look a little unsavoury and more along the lines of paint stripper than enjoyable fluid.

Not very attractive is it? I can only assume we were following a person with a mission, a thirst quenching mission that was starting to show signs of desperation.

For next in line was vodka, none of that expensive rubbish, more along the lines of Glenn's Vodka, that well known brand that celebs drink. Our mystery drinker had cranked it up to level ten.

Sorry, level twenty. Two more vodka bottles lay strewn around the general area next to one shoe. Boy, they really are determined to quench that thirst and party on.

It showed that things were getting desperate for three more bottles lay steps away, oh, and another shoe. Now I had a pair, unfortunately they didn't fit but I was holding out for a jumper or a nice discarded hat instead.

I take my hat off to you sir or madam for you have reached level 99 and can level up no further. Hidden behind a tree, I say hidden it was more of a dumped behind a tree, was this, the photograph only shows five bottles because I had to quickly put my camera away when somebody came around the corner. It's bad enough that when they passed they looked at the bottles then at me and shook their head in disgust. So not only did I look suspicious crouched down in the undergrowth they will now relate tales about me to friends on how they came across an unsavoury drunk that had consumed superhuman amounts of vodka and was now bent over photographing dog eggs.

Anyway, the bottles were just the start, I counted 37. Yes, 37! It gets better, when they finished all the big bottles they then started on the miniatures so just as one trail ended a new miniature Glenn trail started. I have never partied THAT hard, congratulations sir or madam.

Sorry for the poor quality photographs in today's blog but it's awfully difficult to use a camera phone and drink from a vodka bottle at the same time, I do however have some awesome photographs of dog eggs.

 

www.petersmithcollective.co.uk Home Of Everything Impossimal