Trees

It was always the pan to upgrade Bunnyopolis so this weekend stage one started now that the threat of snow has subsided. With Spring finally in its way it is time to replace last years picnic table now that it has started to show serious signs of wear. Aaran, Jura and Iona love it, when I took it out of Bunnyopolis last night they followed me around the garden obviously worried that it wasn't coming back making me feel so guilty even though I'm building them a new one so I placed it back in until the replacement is ready. They really know how to play the guilt card.

Anyway, we did manage to alter a few other things and make it a bit more fun for them.

In went two apple trees surrounded by some Scottish cobbles and several bedded in larger cobbles. OK, it's not much but it's just a start and they soon settled into their new surroundings. Still to be added is a bench, for us not them although it will be at a bunny friendly height and a new bunny bridge I'm building which should replace their favourite picnic table, either that or there's going to be three sulky rabbits. A few more plants to brighten everything up and a small wooden flexible toy made from fruit wood. This is in addition to the original Bunnyopolis which if you didn't know looks like this...

Bunnyopolis - plenty of room to live, play and generally be bunny and on a day like this it looks even better.

To the left is the open run, secured with wire and removable Perspex screens ideal for keeping out all the nasty weather. It's filled with straw which they can dig and move around to their hearts content. They can often be found like minature diggers, both paws stretched out in front pushing piles of the stuff into corners to make a bed. Middle right you will see a small bunny flap in the wall, that leads...

Into the living quarters complete with artwork of course, vet bed, low level heating, triple carpets and more importantly to keep things nice and clean...

The hay bar and twin toilet trays, both of which they like to sit in and eat. Very clean, they never bother anywhere else and they just replicate their natural instinct.

Finally a storage area which houses all the hay, usually four large bales, newspapers and assorted other items required for looking after our three continental giant rabbits. Everything has to be upscaled, tomorrow they are going for their inoculations (don't tell them!) and for that we have to use a purpose built carry case along with reinforced handles, all together around four and a half stone of bunny to lift. To the right you can see Bunnycam and left of the clock is homemade dried apple, carrot and compressed grass rings, the only treats they get as their diet consists of hay, hay, more hay, free grass and quality pellets. Doing it this way and not using a prepared rabbit mix stops selective feeding and encourages the natural rabbit digestive process.

That's it, Bunnyopolis, twice the size of my studio, something not quite right with that!

And what do Aaran, Jura and Iona think?

Well, here's Jura enjoying a bit of morning sun on a small shelf I built wondering why the hell I'm photographing and not doing something useful like feeding her banana or dried apple.

And judging from this picture it looks like a thumbs up from Iona who bounced, binkied and generally skipped away to her hearts content through the latest additions.

Aaran however just loves to look gorgeous in his big ears, never mind Bunnyopolis look at me!

Bunnyopolis, built from the rabbit up.

 

www.petersmithcollective.co.uk Home Of Foreverbunny and the Impossimals

Weather Or Not

Last night we returned from Jayne's Foreverbunny event at the Derbyshire Eco Centre in good spirits. It had been a great day, plenty of things happening, lots to see and do all with fine food served throughout so we looked forward to Sunday, our second day only to be disappointed.

The weather sucked. Not only did it suck but Sky, BBC, Met Office, Accuweather and numerous other tomes of weather information all predicted the same thing more or less. A lashing of heavy rain and possible flooding overnight followed by a consistent stream up until 3-4pm on Sunday. A washout. We checked and checked the weather right up to 10pm last night and unfortunately we had to make the discision that standing out in the open with just a gazebo between us, the wooden and fabric Foreverbunnies and heavy rain was not a great idea.

We typed an email and cancelled it for today. The car was unpacked, the stock back in the system and went to bed.

So imagine our disbelief and frustration when we woke up this morning to glorious sunshine, no rain and a temperature rise of another eight degrees from yesterday and too late to do anything about it!

Really, how can they get it so wrong? I could understand if there was still a few showers and it was a little chilly but hey, it's full on sunshine! So, I'm sat writing this to glorious sunshine, a little wind and temperatures climbing to 25 degrees here in the conservatory thinking, damn, what a crock the met office is.

I know weather can be unpredictable but the must have been a hint that rain was going to turn into blue skies or am I missing something? According to a report in one of the newspapers earlier this year it suggested that most weather giving information should be taken as vague at the very least as predictions can be difficult. Not great news if you are wondering if you should take a brolly or sun tan cream with you when you go out.

Yesterday a gentlemen came to our Forevebunny marquee and we talked about the weather, it had started to drizzle and we voiced our concerns for the next day. Don't worry he said, it will be fine and sunny but windy, we however had our doubts, after all we had the latest technology to tell us. Today we are thinking how did he know? Well, he was a farmer and didn't rely on television, weather apps or as he put it professional storytelling instead he used his vast knowledge of the seasons and a barometer he had kept for over fifty years.

Experience it seems can predict more than technology.

 

www.petersmithcollective.co.uk Home Of Foreverbunny and the Impossimals

Bin'n'Gone

Tomorrow may be Saturday or again Saturday might not come after Friday. It's possible it may be Thursday But that's open to change. Tomorrow is Saturday.

OK, you have just read a load of bullocks, something very similar to the gobbledygook letter I received from the council yesterday regarding my bin collection. Before I start if I wanted to inform a household that a bin collection day is changing I think I would say something along the lines of 'Dear Resident, as of 15th April your brown garden wast pe bin will be emptied on a Thursday. If you have any questions etc..' Quite simple you would think but oh, no, that's too simple, lets build up hope before dashing it to the floor. Here's the letter I received.

Dear Resident,

RE: Possible change to your brown bin collection day.

RE:? What the hell is RE:? It's not an email you are replying too and it's not a question I have asked so why have you RE'd me? And let me get this right you are saying a 'possible' change, does that mean its going to change or not? I'd better read on...

'As of 15th April the day your brown garden waste bin is emptied might be changing.'

Might? Might be changing? You are sending me a letter to tell me that my bin collection could possibly and might be changing? Is it changing or not, don't be afraid just tell it like it is, I can take it!

'Your collection day will be THURSDAY in the same week as your BLUE bin'

Ahh, so you have just built false hopes up that it 'might' change and it 'possibly' could only to dash them all and tell me in one frank statement that it is changing. Not only that you have highlighted irrelevant points by changing them to capitals so it looks like YOU ARE SHOUTING. If I scanned this quickly to pick out the important highlighted information I would have only read THURSDAY BLUE and unless you are planning to put on some sordid show for the residents of Mansfield I think it would be more appropriate to highlight relevant brown bin changing information.

Dear Council,

RE: Letter from you regarding Thursday Blue

I was thrilled after scanning your recent missive to my household that you are planning to hold Blue Thursdays for the residents of Mansfield. This type of thing has been needed for so long to bring a smile to people's faces during these tough times. Knowing how difficult it is to book good acts for these events I thought you would like the relevant information to help you on your way. These are several 'entertainers' that I can thoroughly recommend, many of which 'GO ALL THE WAY'

Glad to be of service and can I possibly be guaranteed a front row seat at the first event?

Martha Pole Hugger and her Rampant Reptile - Top act banned in several cities

Bend Over Backwards Billy - Fires snooker balls from places you would never believe.

Slinky Slapper - Pure class from a thirty stone diva, comes with her own mud bath.

Sincerely,

A.Happy Resident.

P.S. Is my bin collection day changing or not?

 

www.petersmithcollective.co.uk Home Of Foreverbunny and the Impossimals

Pass

Think back, no, way, way back to a time when we had it easy. How is that possible you may say, for today everything is at hand, mobile phones, iPads, digital downloads and much much more at the touch of a button so how could we have had it easier than today way back then?

Well, it's down to one thing. Passwords.

Yesterday I had the pleasure of cataloging my password collection, I call it a collection for it has now exceeded seventy. I have passwords for social media, stores, digital downloads, mail, personal website access, bank accounts, gaming accounts, energy suppliers, both mobile and static phone companies, supermarkets and oodles more for each and every business I have ever bought a product from. In total 76, all different and it seems to grow weekly and on top of that you give me PIN numbers to remember too.

The must be a critical mass of passwords and pin numbers that you can mentally handle, it really is getting insane. Multiply my average by the population and take away around 25% and you have something like 3,656,250,000 passwords knocking around for the UK alone. Figures like that are crazy, think back to what you had to remember twenty years ago. Probably a PIN number and little else, even better you could remember it along with your bank account number and a few phone numbers. Go back thirty years and it gets better, less clutter to remember so you could at least get on with your life.

The mind boggles, a few days ago I wanted to buy a toner cartridge. A simple affair you would think but because it was my first order I had to register, a password was sent to me which I was told to change immediately unless I wanted hackers to drain my bank account, then I had to log in again to access my checkout. Once that bit of tomfoolery was done I followed the process and typed in the credit card details an hit return. A second box popped up asking me for the first, third and sixth letter of my password for my credit card as they used an off site checking service. Of course I couldn't remember, so went through the usual routine of getting it wrong three times until it asks me details about my shoe size, address, school grades, medical reports and the like to ascertain that I am indeed who I say I am and allow me to reset my password to something more memorable, like 'password'. Only this is where it gets sneaky, I type in a new password and it proudly announces, 'Sorry, you have used that password before, please try again'. I enter a new one and I get, 'Sorry, password contains too many weak characters, try using a combination of letters and numbers'.

I'm sorry, I thought Twilight had too many weak characters not my password. Anyway I decided to play around a little and typed 'ILLEGALHACKATTEMPT' as a password and got blacklisted. To cut a long story short I eventually managed to change it and returned back to the site and logged in again to carry on shopping. What a palaver, if this is happening now what am I going to be like when I'm old?

I awoke on my 76th birthday, its the year 2043 and the alarm clock failed to wake me as I hadn't fathomed out the instructions as they needed to be downloaded from a secure server for which I needed a PIN number. I poured out a bowl of vitamins and sat in front of the Tri-D projector. I wanted to watch Bargain Hunter 2024 and Euros In The Attic but there had been a software update and I needed to log in to Tri-D central to access my personal entertainment centre. I had forgotten my twenty six letter introductory passcode that allowed me five minutes of free viewing before the credit card system embedded underneath my skin started to charge per minute so instead looked out of the window.

Suddenly the view changed from the back garden to an advert for pile cream. New government strategy in 2036 had forced all window companies to install back screen LCD technology in all double glazing to help the advertising industry in paying shareholders. I hated it.

The doorbell rang. Standing outside was a brand spanking new Royal Mail Delivery Android holding in its vice like grip a small parcel. A parcel it wouldn't let go unless I entered the delivery code, a code that was in my personal account protected by a password that should have arrived in a email the day before. It didn't arrive, I had try to change my email password the day before but after getting it wrong three times it locked me out and I had to wait for my new password generator to arrive in the post looking suspiciously like the parcel now before me.

A countdown time ticked on the chest of the delivery android, thirty seconds left and then it returns the parcel back to central office, now located in London, a hundred and twenty six miles away. It could only be collected in person on Tuesdays as that's the only day they now employ real people and you need an emailed code to hand over on the day.

I slammed the door shut as the android bounded away...

See what I'm going to experience one day, if it wasn't for those pesky passwords I would have gotten away with it you meddling techies!

 

www.petersmithcollective.co.uk Home Of Foreverbunny and the Impossimals

What's My Name

Oh no! A chance find on the Internet has set my mind all a quiver this morning and turned my stomach in equal measures but more of that later. Coming across this candle creatively named 'Whiskers On Kittens' led me on an electronic paper chase to find other names used to describe burning paraffin. You wouldn't believe some of the names I found but I really started to enjoy myself when I found a section called Man Candles with exciting names like 'Man Town' and 'Riding Mower'. Seriously, those board meetings must have oozed testosterone. I'm waiting for two new fragrances to be released, 'In The Pub' and 'Meat and Two Veg' to cater for the typical man on the street and make a nice companion to the other two fragrances 'Muscled Moron' and 'Babe Magnet'

See, it's set me off again so whilst we are at it lets look at the crazy world of paint names, can you guess the colour from these?

1. Sexy Pink - OK, this one is pink but how the hell do you make pink sexy? Maybe you need a bit of this...

DO YA THINK IM SEXY?

There, I have passed the curse of Dogs In Pantyhose on and turned your stomach too, once seen never forgotten. This image is burned on my retina, that along with a naked Anne Widecombe riding a pig. Who does these things? Anyway where was I, ah, paint colours.

2. First Dawn - A pale blue

3. Dogs Ear - Pink again, getting creative aren't they?

4. Baby Turtle - Soft Green, a little odd but hey, somebody must like it.

5. I'm bored now - No really, I'm bored so lets make our own paint range up and name it...

Here's our new Spring Collection entitled Mansfield Memories...

Lets start with the red/brown colour bottom left, it's called 'Hint Of Dog Egg', inspiration has come from little walks and spotting this particular colour left in small curly pyramid shapes adding a splash of colour to otherwise grey pavements.

The blues are from our 'Sing The Blues' collection, a blue for every blue mood you will ever get. Purple, that attractive splash in the middle of our palette is called 'Saturday Night Bruiser' followed by the crimson top right 'Nose Bleed'. The brown at the top middle is from the 'Takeaway' feature wall colours, this particular one is 'Curried Revenge'. The rest of the range is called apathy and I can't really be bothered to tell you about it.

Didn't believe it the first time? Didn't think so, here's one last one to make you hurl this morning. I'm off for a spot of painting and a bit of therapy to try and remove some of these images.

Don't have nightmares!

Eeeeeeek!!!!!

 

www.petersmithcollective.co.uk Home Of Foreverbunny and the Impossimals

Facephore

With the latest announcement that Facebook is going to charge users to up to £10 to contact people not on their friend list they are giving users an additional option at no extra charge. They are introducing Facephore, the popular flag based signalling method bought right up to date for today's fast paced world. Here's a brief run down of the most popular Facephore statuses being launched soon...

 Hi, I'm single and possibly weird, I'm not giving anything away in my photo although I may be mentally unstable.

 Married, together we fly the flag of togetherness until we argue and then we try to stick the dam flag up each  others backside.

Its complicated. Its that complicated that I don't even know where to start apart from the fact that seven Peruvian pygmy goats and that fellow from across the road had nothing to do with it.

 I'm at work, sucks doesn't it.

 I have kids and its awful. Why did they not tell me that they do random stuff, shout, squeal, run around, be petulant and make a mess?

 It's my birthday folks, I'm going to celebrate I'm getting closer to incontinence.

 I'm drunk, too drunk to even wave this dam flag. 

 I need a poo but I can't go.

Yay! I did a poo and it was grand!

 I have a new hat.

 I own a cat, although owning a cat is like saying I own a small Caribbean island. Its all in your head and cats only rub up against you to get rid of their static build up. If they didn't do that their hair would stand on end and they would be prone to starting electrical fires.

 I own a doggy, it takes me for a walk.

 Look, an elephant! I wonder what it's name is?

 I like tarts. Strawberry jam ones especially although I do prefer lime ones said nobody ever.

Finally one that can be used in many occasions to show disbelief, displeasure, shock, horror or even good old apathy.

Enjoy!

Three Wise Donkeys

Its Monday morning so its time for Donkey Wise Donkey Advise, our regular column dedicated to your problems with our Wise Donkey solutions. Todays blog has been sponsored by www.donkeydodonkeydontdonkeywisedonkeylies.com a subsidiarity of www.sheepgobaapigsgooinkandpandassitaroundalotandlooksad.com

Dear Three Wise Donkeys,
I am a working mother of two and I have recently run up a large credit card bill without my husbands knowledge. To cover the payments I went to a loan shark who charged me 1000% interest on the ten pounds I borrowed. I now owe the loan shark £19,923 and the credit card company £83,993 what shall I do wise donkeys?

A.Concerned For My Kneecaps, Dudley

Well you have got yourself in a little bother haven't you dear, we need to get those debts in order as soon as possible. I recommend buying a large saddle, a blanket and a nose bag. Take all these down to Skegness beach and harness yourself up. Offer rides up and down the beach just like we do in times of trouble and pretty soon you will be making money hand over fist. You can also charge to have a photo taken with you for extra income. Wear a small bell so you attract attention as you canter up and down the sands. You will be debt free in no time. Next!

Dear Three Wise Donkeys,
I have a terrible habit of always finishing off other peoples food, it has had such an impact on my life I now weigh just over one metric ton and fear it may hinder my job prospects of becoming a prima ballerina. What should I do?

Eddie Large Cake, Piecrust, Northants.

Don't worry Eddie, we have the perfect solution. Our new fitness regime Donkeyrobics, a cardio vascular exercise that will banish those pounds instantly. Simply buy a saddle, a blanket and nose bag and pop down to the beach. Offer rides up and down a mile stretch of beach and watch those pounds drop away. At night simply retire to a small field and gallop around a little before settling down on a pile of hay. I guarantee you will feel fitter and get closer to you dream of being a prima ballerina in no time at all. Next!

Dear Three Wise Donkeys,
I have a penchant for wanting to dress up in my wife's clothes when she is out, is this normal and what should I do?

Billy Frilly Knickers, Kinky, Essex

It's perfectly normal to have feelings like this, our recommendation is to be open about it with your wife. Get her to share your passion and encourage you to dress up in her underwear, then apply a little lippy, nail varnish and make up. To help your transition into society simply buy a saddle, blanket and nose bag and get down to the beach. People will love to ride you up and down the sands for a fee especially as you have gone to the trouble of dressing up a little. You wife can act as your handler so you can both enjoy cross dressing beach riding as if its perfectly normal, which as we know it is!

Dear Three Wise Donkeys,
You are crap, all you ever talk about is running up and down the sand.

Miss I.M.Honest

Well get you! Don't knock it until you have tried it dearie. Frolicking up and down the sands with some random stranger straddling you sounds right up your street you little strumpet. From what I have heard you even do it for free, tart!

Dear Three Wise Donkeys,
Your weekly column has been suspended until further notice. You are not funny or entertaining in any way and you also break all donkey rules by being able to use a keyboard.

A.Ass, Association Of Donkey Poking Of Britain.

Hee-Haw,Hee-Haw,Hee-Haw,Hee-Haw,Hee-Haw!!!!

We All Can Be Heroes

You may be wondering why I have opened today's blog with 'We Can Be Heroes' by Caroline Shotton, well its because this incredibly popular and talented artist has decided to take part in a 10k Race For Life, on the 30th June, a very worthy cause indeed and this painting ideally suited the support Caroline and many others will be giving on the day.

Caroline is looking to raise over a thousand pounds so please, if you can, pop on over to http://www.raceforlifesponsorme.org/carolineshotton0 and lets see if Caroline can smash her target!

Act Now!

Oh no! A brown envelope with important documents enclosed, is it from the Inland Revenue? The DVLA? Or are they putting my poll tax up to £900 per month so they can afford a bit of tarmac to fill the twenty six million holes I seem to find on every car journey?

It's full of bamboozling words and concerns, it's starts with a worrying 'Doesn't time fly?', a quick scan revealed phrases like 'A small price to pay' and 'We save you hassle'. 'Minor hiccup or major mishap' leaps out at you followed by 'you can stop worrying'

See what I mean? I'm really worried now, calamity! mishaps! accident! What do I have to lose?

Well actually quite a lot, for the letter is nothing more than a scare mongering attempt to get you to take out extended warranty on an electrical product. Basically it's telling me my world will end if my iPad stopped working and for a nominal annual fee of £95 I can have piece of mind.

Hang on, let me get that right, for £95 A third of the cost of a new one you guarantee to sort it out if I break it?

Well, no not really, we won't touch it with a barge pole if it shows signs of wear (!?!), cosmetic damage, misuse (oh, I'm sorry, I thought my iPad was one of them new fangled hover boards we were promised all those years ago, I didn't realise you couldn't stand on it), inoperability caused by other people, damage due to weather conditions, repairs that aren't approved and theft or any other loss other than repair or replacement (!?!)

Anything else you need to tell me in your agreement?

Ahh, we'll there is one other thing...

What's that?

It's only a small thing...

Ok, tell me then.

We will not be responsible for any failure to carry out our obligations under this contract and...

Yes...

And furthermore you must do all you reasonably can to keep our costs of providing our service as low as possible and allow us into your home or office at all reasonable times.

Ahh.

You are joking of course? No? So basically you want me to buy into a stupid extended warranty for a third of the price of a new item, for that I get a replacement should I have a mishap as long as it fits your terms of mishap and I should not really put you out if I need your services and finally I need to mail you my house keys so you can come and go as you please as long as its at a reasonable time. Oh, and I nearly forgot you are also going to pass my details on to other service providers unless I take the time to write a letter outlining my disapproval of you doing so and send it to your head office.

No go ahead I'm feeling rather rakish today, here's my £95 good fellow go and have a ball, meanwhile I will be ever so careful with my iPad as I do not wish to put you out in any way whatsoever. If I did have a mishap, perish the thought, I will pay your bus fare and buy you dinner to save on your costs, if you have to come a long way I have a spare room you could use completely free. Sign me up for the extra mailings too, my last penis enlarger broke so I could do with a torrent of unsolicited mail into my inbox and to clutter up my hallway. Of course I completely understand if you tell me to flick off, after all it's in your agreement.

As you may have gathered it went in the bin.

Maybe a little bit of TV, after all what could possibly be annoying about a cooking program like Mastercheffy?

Well, remember the bit where they get to work in a 'real' kitchen with 'real' customers so Joe Public straight off the street gets to put them under pressure?

Only it doesn't happen like that, a quick glimpse of the menu using the nifty freeze frame button last night revealed a special sitting that had to be booked at the restaurant where a 'BBC Cookery Series' was going to be filmed. Disappointing really, everyone knew they were being filmed and numbers were known beforehand, still at least it didn't come with extended warranty.

Or in the case of my Internet provider no Facebook. This has been like this for a year now, I type in Facebook and I get 'Oh, I'm sorry you thicky that Facebooky thing you asked me to find doesn't exist in my world go and buy yourself an extended warranty and I may fix it'.

Ahh, that's better at least one thing made me chuckle this morning when a nifty take away menu fluttered to to floor.

I'll have me some of that, freshly cooked Kong. Which reminds me of an age old joke...

'Lordy, look at the size of those potatoes, what are they?'

'King Edwards.'

'Blimey, they look more like King Kongs!'

Fellow artist David Stanier is auctioning a piece on eBay for charity at the moment, if you get time have a look, it's all for a good cause :)

http://www.ebay.co.uk/itm/321099038578

 

www.petersmithcollective.co.uk Home Of Foreverbunny and the Impossimals

Free Gift!

Yes, every reader of today's blog gets this free Satnav - Pub Version absolutely free! To get your Free Satnav simply cut out the instructions below and carry them in your pocket. To find you way home from any pub simply follow the Satnav instructions provided.

-CUT HERE-----------------------------------------------

Waiting for a signal...

Two satellites found...

Would you like to use HOME as your destination?

Yes / No

Yes

Carefully stand up using any available furniture, people or animals to steady your self, if the Satnav instructions appear blurred get a fellow patron to follow you shouting out the instructions.

Look for a tall rectangular object, it's called a door, you may have been familiar with it many hours ago when you entered. Proceed straight on through the door.

Pick yourself up and apologise to the dog you tripped over, shout 'I'm alright!' and leap to your feet. Locate the door and have another go.

You are outside, the sudden rush of fresh air comes like a blow to the head. If you feel dizzy sit down on the step otherwise proceed left or right. I'm not fussy, either way you are going to change directions so many times before you get home that it doesn't matter.

Walk for two hundred yards straight ahead.

Can't do it can you? What a cheap drunk you are, that last vodka shot really shouldn't have been mixed into that Baileys.

Stand still and ponder your location, remember to sway steadily in the wind. Point left then point right, finally place your finger on your chin and say 'That way' and step forward, swing lavishly to the right and as you become unbalanced fall over the garden wall.

As you get up remember to empty the debris out of your pockets along with some loose change and your house keys.

You should now be back on the pavement and pointing in a homeward direction. Proceed for one hundred yards in a bandy legged zig zag fashion.

Hug a lamppost.

Befriend a cat.

Shout 'Hiya' and smile inanely at random passers by.

Start to walk using big strides, gradually make the strides smaller and smaller until you start a small run. Now tilt forward a little and veer to one side.

Pick yourself up from the gutter and put the broken wing mirror back on the car. Touch the bump on your head gingerly and pocket your newly removed front tooth.

Drop to your knees and whisper to yourself 'Oh god!'

Crawl for fifty feet resisting the temptation to produce a technicolor yawn.

Too late, don't worry it looks like some trendy kneecaps and the smell will come out after six washes.

Using anything nearby pull yourself upright.

Suddenly remember you have a phone and get it out of your pocket.

Not got it have you? It's back in the garden you fell in to and you don't remember where that was do you?

Look to your right, can you see it?

No, it's not home, it's a discarded shopping trolley. Way hey! You have transport, your chariot awaits.

Clamber on the back and like a scooter use one leg to propel yourself along on your transport of delights.

Fall forward into the basket at the most inappropriate moment and find yourself free gliding out into open traffic.

Phew, that was close. Do a sigh of relief as you hit the kerb at 58mph and squeal as the trolley catapults you trebuchet style into a skip.

Let the world wash over you, sleep beckons. Make yourself comfy using anything in the skip you can find.

Sleep.

Morning!

Waiting for a signal...

Two satellites found...

Finding location...

You are at Basingstoke tip, you have no money, no phone, two funny smelling kneecaps, a large bump to your head and you are missing one tooth.

Would you like to use HOME as a destination?

Yes/No

Yes

Destination set to PUB.

-CUT HERE------------------------------------------------

 

www.petersmithcollective.co.uk Home Of Foreverbunny and the Impossimals

Imagine

Bagpuss awoke and yawned, he didn't realise how long he had been asleep but it had been a long, long time. The others didn't seem to mind, professor Yaffle the carved disginguished bookend in the shape of a woodpecker was also prone to taking the odd nap. Madeleine the rag doll patted him, 'old furry catpuss, you have been asleep, come and see what Emily has bought you'.

Bagpuss looked over at the empty jar Emily had left. It was covered in dust and had a small peeling label on the front. The mice from the mouse organ had already rolled it across the floor convinced it was a fabulous glass house made for a very important snail. Paddington who had been listening from the corner of the room disagreed and gave the mice a hard stare. It's a jar for marmalade said Paddington as he removed a large marmalade sandwich from underneath his hat. A whistle from behind the mouse organ disagreed and Tiny Clanger stepped out. No matter how hard he whistled he just couldn't get the rest to understand until Parsley the lion who had been listening intently sat up and started to speak only to be interrupted by Dill who raced across the floor chasing his tail.

The 'ching' of the door drew everyone's attention and they all looked up to see good old Mr Benn step in followed by Pugh, Pugh, Barney, McGrew, Cuthbert, Dibble and Grub the Trumpton Firemen. Even they were puzzled by Emily's object and it was only when Hartley the outspoken hare and Zippy started to argue that they all realised what it was.

But before they could finish the door opened and in stepped a grim looking man.

'I'm here to inform you all that on this day April 3rd 1987 this shop 'Childhood' and all its contents has been declared unworthy and is to be closed with immediate effect. All characters are to be disbanded and all found objects to be destroyed along with imagination, innocence and manners.'

Emily's shop, 'Childhood' closed its doors and lay dormant for several months until a development firm moved in and ripped out the Victorian frontage and replaced it with a large glass window. It's new owners, four armed turtles opened the doors of its new refurbished shop 'Brats' and business was never better. It was louder, brasher and you could see children racing around screaming and kicking all day long. During a special Power Rangers event children became so excited they were sick and it took a lot of cleaning by the Pokemon's to put the shop back in order the next day but they all agreed that such mayhem was great fun indeed.

All went fine until one day in the year 2000 a familiar grim looking man stepped in to 'Brats'.

'I'm here to inform you all that on this day April 3rd 2005 this shop 'Brats' and all its contents has been declared unworthy and is to be closed with immediate effect. All characters are to be disbanded and all your attitude is to be retained for future generations.'

Overnight 'Brats' was gutted and remodelled into a shop not unlike every other shop in the high street. It was called 'All Growed Up' and contained everything a young adult from the age of three could ever want. Gone were the toys and tools of imagination, gone were the calming stories and soft comfort of being shielded from the world. In was gritty realism, mobile phones with access to an uncensored adult world, a overpowering message that fame was in your grasp and the only thing that mattered was you. Manners was swept under the carpet along with respect for others, tolerance and humility. Shelves were stacked high with arrogance, violence, sex and disrespect for others and the shop thrived. The shop was so successful it became a chain of stores and can be found in every corner of every town in every country to this very day.

Emily's 'Childhood' shop still exists, it's deep in us all if you look hard enough but it's voice is still, unable to call and be heard against the clamour of daily life. But for those that know, it never leaves and you can open the door and step in, just close your eyes and your there.

 

www.petersmithcollective.co.uk Home Of Foreverbunny and the Impossimals

Cold, Loo's and Cheese

I have just read a few of last weeks blog entries back to myself only to realise the large amount of personal misery catalogued in a semi amusing fashion, although at the time it was far from grin worthy. This Easter I decided to do nothing, I say nothing but by that I mean take a break from painting and do something different.

Friday was spent painting. I tried, I really did but you know when something niggles at you, we'll that's what my latest Lost Impossimal painting was doing. So Friday ended up a day like the others, painting. A full nine hours until my eyes looked like pee holes in the snow and my hand started shaking as the drink wore off. That last comment was not true, I drank merrily all day until Jayne had to drag me out of the studio because I had passed out. Thats not true either, I was still perfectly capable of drinking.

Saturday and the alarm rang out at 5am. 5am?! Yes, 5am, Jayne had a Foreverbunny to get to at Elvaston Castle. So at that ungodly hour we dragged ourselves out of bed and got ready. All I can say is that it was like Crufts, I have never seen before or since an abundance of dog walkers in one place. At one point there was twelve Japanese Akitas, all with individual owners all gathered together, all very frisky. This was followed by a troup of beagles, all very surreal. Best of all was a French Bulldog with one blue eye and one brown, very quirky, very cute.

The day advanced, the cold bit as we were in a marquee and the -2 degrees took its toll. The visitors came and went and my bladder started to bulge. I had been holding off a little because the public facilities were not stunning, they consisted surprisingly of a selection of portaloos, not my favourite form of ablusions nor am I very good at choosing a good one. After humming and ahh-ing I selected one I though may have not had much abuse.

The last one I used of these had a joystick contraption at the side that you tugged and pushed to flush, this however was devoid of any buttons, sticks, handles or anything at all I could recognise as toilety apart from of course the bowl. How did it work, I was intrigued, there didn't even seem to be a hole where a hole should be. Most peculiar. I felt the cabin rock and nearly fell as the cubicle next to me was entered by what I can only describe as something heavier than me. Not very sturdy I though to myself wondering what to do next.

'Where's the bloody handle?' muttered next door, 'how can I have a shut in here?' They added (use your imagination). 'Mavis!', 'Mavis! Look at this!'

Oh no, I though, not again, why oh why can I never ever do these type of things in piece without having to be witness to some surreal street theatre.

Mavis had obviously made their way over and now they both stood peering into the cabin.

'I'm not having a shut on that Mavis, there's no hole!'

'There must be a hole, maybe you got a disabled one or something'

Words fail me but they carried on.

'Try that one, see if that's got a hole'

My cabin nearly got pulled over as my hole seeking friend decided to ignore the red bar on the handle and proceeded to tug at my cabin. You have no idea some of the words that went through my mind as yet again trapped in a toilet holding on to the sides as it rocked to the tune of 'Mavis, this ones bloody stuck, give us a hand'

It's a good job I shouted before Mavis got her hands on it, but why oh why do these people never say sorry, instead they just moved on to the next cabin, the last thing I heard was 'This has got no hole either, what's going on I'm busting for a shut!'

Anyway, apart from that the day passed without incident. I worked out the toilet actually worked and this is the disgusting bit, when it had a certain weight shall we say. At which point it tipped away from you then snapped back into place. Not very efficient and rather startling as it made a nice plastic slapping sound on its return flipping up a little bit of residue on the way back. Nice.

It was a hard cold day but fun at the same time, at least it didn't snow. Then it snowed. No, really, it started to snow around twelve. Great. We returned home around 5:30pm, exhausted but happy to be warm.

Sunday, 6am which was still 5am because of the clock change and our second day at Elvaston Castle. This time nice and sunny all day, a little warmer and no snow. A nice way to spend Easter Sunday chatting to various Foreverbunny collectors along the way. I avoided the toilets, had a Kangaroo burger and wondered just why people at events like this always seem to want to buy a bag of cheese.

And so on to Monday, for the first time in oodles of years I did something I can't remember ever doing since the age of eighteen. I stayed in bed and did nothing only to roll out around 11:30am, how shocking. So Easter Monday was spent mooching around the house doing nothing in particular and for once I loved it. No painting, no designing or creating, no website building and no thinking. Bliss.

That's it for today, a simple blog, my mind is still chilled out from the weekend and I hope you all had a great Easter too. It all goes downhill tomorrow when I return to the studio and continue painting 'Bloodline', the return of the Lost Impossimals later this year.

 

www.petersmithcollective.co.uk Home Of Foreverbunny and the Impossimals

Hot Diggety Dog

I hope you are all enjoying your Easter break, the blog is going to take one too but it shall return on Monday with more tales of woe, stories of battling Minotaurs, fire breathing triple headed dogs guarding untold treasures and standing semi naked in the foyer of the local fitness club.

In fact I won't leave that little gem until Monday I'll tell you now whilst its still clear in my mind as it only occurred yesterday.

At school we were taught how to swim by wearing our pyjamas and rescuing a brick from the bottom of a swimming pool, I never did move on much from that so three times a week I go to the fitness club for a bit of a splish splash in the vain hope that my swimming will improve. Thinking about it the chances that I would be willing to rescue a brick in the first place and secondly be in my pyjamas at the same time are so remote I'd bet that my arse cheeks would appear singing on Britains Got Talent first, I wonder why they chose such a thing?

Anyway, I digress. There I was splashing about and managing to nab one of the 'swimmers' lanes as if I knew what an was doing when a loud noise started. More of a wail actually, it took a moment to sink in.

Fire! Fire!

Fire

Fire :(

Bugger.

Sopping wet I emerged from the pool and made my way dutifully to the changing rooms. I fumbled with my key to get the locker open when in burst one of the staff.

'Out now!'

'Wha?'

'Out now, no time for that!'

'But it's cold out there with snow on the ground and in case you didn't notice I'm not wearing clothes, I'm barefoot and wet!'

'You won't be cold if you burn to death, out!!', it's hard to argue with such impeccable logic and with that they ushered me out along with a few other stragglers desperately trying to get to a towel. So imagine my surprise yet again to find myself in another crap situation, namely shivering in a group of fully clothed people watching my nipples go hard and everything else shrinking.

'You look cold, your nipples have gone hard.' some joker quipped. 'They look like bullets mate' added comedian number two.

'Thanks Sherlock, next time you are on Mastermind choose a subject you know, like the bloody obvious. Of course I'm cold, I'm naked or as naked as I want to be in the foyer of a fitness centre surrounded by strangers and I'm starting to leave a puddle so if you don't mind stop pointing out my nipples.' I immediately placed one of my arms over both nipples, partly as a defence mechanism and secondly to get some heat to them. I looked like some chavy version of the Venus de Milo painting, I swept my soggy hair to one side to complete the look because I'm worth it.

After what seemed like twenty seven years we were allowed to go back to the pool, I was aware walking back that my swimming attire was clinging a little and as I was being followed by six hundred other fully clothed members I became more and more self conscious as I walked. It wasn't far to go but by the time I had reached the door I had stopped striding and was more shuffling, also if I bumped into anyone coming the opposite way my nipples would probably take their eyes out.

I eased back in the pool and splish splashed away...

Why am I telling you this?

It's because of this...

A leaflet that dropped through the door yesterday that took my breath away, hot dog pizza. Really? I thought I had seen most things from the local take aways but this was a god amongst them. Lets dispense with that stuffed crust rubbish and bin the garlic bread, what people really want more of now they don't trust beef is oodles of meat stuffed in a crusty roll attached around a pizza the size of a wagon wheel. It takes me a good forty minutes of swimming to remove the calories and fat I incurr from looking at a chocolate, if I ate this bad boy I'd practically have to live in the water to remove it.

Wow, that's a serious meal and its not alone. I have just seen pictures of a similar pizza only this time the hot dog is around the rim uncut like some pink flappy inner tube. I have no doubt it tastes delicious on some level but part of me is saying we really don't help ourselves do we.

You will be pleased to know my nipples returned to their normal level after standing in front of the oven for a bit.

See you Monday, have a great weekend!

 

www.petersmithcollective.co.uk Home Of Foreverbunny and the Impossimals