It's A Bit Parky

Take a long look at the above accurate photo fit, it may save your life, for this is Mr K.Nobhead, you have probably seen him in many car parks over the years, currently he is in Mansfield dicking around.

What's got my gander this morning? Nothing much apart from being rammed in the testicles in a slow version of hit and run.

I suppose an explanation is required, it's quite simple and one of the first rules of driving. Don't hit the people.

Yesterday was a very strange day, after the wonderful five hour packed gallery appearance on Saturday, Sunday was the ying to the yang, the balancing factor that brings you back with a bump. It all started off quite gently with a trip to replace an ageing Freeview box that had decided to not play ball with the absolute minute amount of television programs we wish to watch (approximately three currently and no, it doesn't include X-Factor or indeed anything to do with dancing, skating, shouting, crying or showing off).

Most of the retail outlets around us have gone out of business, we no longer have a Staples, Comet, Currys and numerous other places so have to venture into PC World for most of our electricals, either that or buy them online. The first signs that it was going to be a payback day began when we waited in a queue of cars to turn right into the carpark from the main road. A very busy road I hasten to add so why on earth did a car behind us decide that they would not wait any longer and drive head first into oncoming traffic to get to the front of the queue. I'm not playing this down either, they really did drive at oncoming traffic who panicked at the car speeding towards them. Several cars swerved and two stopped hitting their horns simultaneously. Well, that was it, it was like every man for themselves. We sat in disbelief as car after car took the same route jumping the queue and completely stopping the oncoming traffic with their selfish need to shop. It was mayhem.

Anyway, we waited and pulled into the carpark the correct way and gave everyone special Paddington stares but they seemed oblivious that they had just a) Done something illegal and dangerous and b) That it was incredibly selfish and c) They were a dick.

Inside we found everything we didn't want and nothing we did, after having a panic attack in the television area when a young child decided to whack up the sound on the biggest television to just below 158 decibels and a fight broke out around the kettles we left. Even the staff told us to go to Maplins but I don't know if that was advice or they just didn't like the look of us, either way we managed to set off the door alarm on the way out for some reason and a whole new episode started before we reached the car to find it covered in a torrent of white from a rather ill bird that had managed to hit the roof, side, boot, bonnet and the door handle I use. Opening a car door with a tissue whilst retching is not something I would recommend.

Let's jump an hour ahead and to the car park in Tesco's. We had done a little shopping and wheeled the trolley back to the car. I had reversed in, it was quite clear when we arrived but returning I found the car surrounded. Luckily though there was no car next to us so it was quite easy to reach the boot to unload the trolley.

So imagine my surprise when a car decided to drive past, look at me with the trolley and think, 'you know, I think I will reverse in and trap that idiot, I may even clip him in the process.' (See diagram above, I'm the pathetic stick figure about to get squished)

I yelled, tried to move out of the way but all the gaps were too small. I waved my arms and started to shout until the corner of his car hit me in my nick nacks. You would have thought the sound of gently squashed gonads would have stopped him but oh, no, he wanted to make sure that trolley was trapped too. I had images of abandoning it and losing my pound which made me very sad.

What an idiot. Unbelievable. Then he stopped, got out, looked at me like one would at something unpleasant on your shoe and walked off.

'You've just hit me you idiot! I can't get the trolley out!' I shouted, it was no use though, this middle aged arse decided he had better things to do at the cash machine and completely ignored me the wretch. I kicked his tyre and tried to figure out what to do next and how to release the trolley. There was only one thing for it, pull my car out a little. I edged the car out, jumped out still holding my soft bits and watched a shopper wheel my trolley away complete with pound coin.

Aaaaarrrrrggghhhhh!!!!!

'That's my trolley!' I shouted to the back of rapidly escaping trolley thief. Honk! Honk! Came from a car behind me, my car was blocking the road! Oh no! It's all going wrong!

I loved that pound coin.

And that dear blog reader was the beginning of my Sunday, five hours of miserable madness to balance out the five hours of fun the day before. Needless to say I won't mention the three teenage girls that decided to run across a road of speeding traffic at a major junction, neither will I mention the family that stood either side of me in Argos to have a discussion about fish fingers and baby poo. Quite rightly I will also gloss over the incident in Maplins where we appeared to be invisible to other members of the public as I held a miniature pool table (don't ask why) and getting thumped by a small remote controlled robot.

All I can say is that balance is restored and I'm never going out again.

On a brighter note, a few weeks ago I blogged about the third (rare) tornado to hit the area, well joy of joys we have another 'rare' event tomorrow with the back end of a hurricane so if you see my fly by your window please give me a little wave to see me on my way.

I need it.

 

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

Meadowhall Appearance Saturday 18th 1-4pm

Eeek! We are so excited! Tomorrow we will be at the special Mr & Mrs Smith World Of Impossimals event at Castle Galleries in Meadowhall between 1-4pm. It's a great chance to see lots of new Impossimals, hunt for the unique golden hares and meet us both for a chat in a nice smiley, happy environment for all the family.

Come along, it's entirely free! Bring a friend, bring an Impossimal piece for us to sign, bring yourself to one of the most popular Impossimal venues easily accessed just off the M1 near Sheffield.

In addition to the Impossimals there will also be a collection of Jayne's ceramic artwork that really has to be seen to be believed and Jayne will be on hand to tell you the secrets of her artwork and just how a fuse, a screwdriver, a golf tee and a pastry cutter led her to create the collection.

Oh, and there will be drinks, dancing dogs, showgirls, a trapeze artist, a full twenty one gun salute, sixty three horses performing Bolero and a dog called Colin.

N.B. Some, all, or none may be or maybe not be at the event, although you are guaranteed two ageing talkative dressed in the dark artists banging on about Impossimals.

See you tomorrow!

 

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

Give Me Wood

DIY stores I can cope with, just... but put me in a builders merchants or a wood merchant and it's a whole new ball game that I don't know the rules to.

Yesterday I needed to get some MDF boards cut to size, normally I go to the local DIY store to buy a big sheet and have it cut in three so I can fit it in the car and then cut it as I need it at home. As the DIY store will only cut to fit it in your car I stupidly I decided to see if I could have it all pre-cut to various sizes at a local wood merchants saving me a job. Little did I know that they spoke a different version of English than I do.

For a start these places intimidate me, they are used to professional tradesmen not arty farty artists so you have your card marked as soon as you walk in with your flowery clothes, secondly I don't know the lingo. However I did find what I wanted, big sheets of MDF with a cutting price, nice.

I think I expected a 'Can I help you?' rather than a 'Wha' wan' mate?', I don't respond to 'mate' very well as I was once compared at school to the sailor on the bubble bath bottle of 'Matey' and carry the scars ever since. Come to think of it he had stripes on his clothes, hmmm. Anyway, I could see by the cut of his jib that he recognised me as either a novice, a passer by that had entered the wrong shop or an idiot. He chose to believe the latter.

'Ahem' I cleared my throat to try and get a manly voice then said the most stupid thing possible. 'Do you sell MDF?', embarrassingly he pointed three feet to my right at a twenty foot long eight foot high stack of MDF with the words MDF written in two foot high letters that I had just stood and read myself before he asked me the 'Wha' wan' mate?'. He sighed and I knew I was in for a rough time.

'Err, how many cuts do I get for my money?'

'Ten. How yer cuttin' it?'

'Well, turn it landscape and cut it into three equal sections, then from each section which should be 32'' trim them to a 32'' square, the remainer should be 32'' x 16'', a couple though I would like trimming to 28'' squares with an off-cut of 32'' x 20'' ' I felt like a pro reeling off all the sizes.

'We don't do landscape.'

'Wha?' It was my turn to shorten words.

'We don't do landscape mate.' There was that word again, my gander rose a little and I imagined a little sailors cap on my head.

'But you do, you turn it on its side.'

'Which side?' You are joking I said to myself along with a few choice words, I was about to explain the principles of how a rectangle can be portrait or landscape to a stranger in a wood shop who must have notice at some point that they worked with rectangles most of the day.

'Look' I said, 'You see that paper in front of you, well that's portrait, if you turn it like this...'

'Derek! We have a trouble maker!' For the second time in less than a minute the words you are joking rattled through my head.

Derek was a big chap, a very big chap with a small pencil behind is ear that looked so small that I immediately imagined that when he uses it he looked like he was writing with a matchstick, it was also very blunt which made me want to point it out but kept it to myself for safety reasons.

'Problem?' Said the Gruffalow, er, Derek.

'No problem!' I squeaked, 'I just want wood, have you got wood?' I added then again regretted as the words tumbled out.

'You're asking me if I have wood?' The pencil had suddenly stood on end as he formed the words and his ears moved as if emphasisng the word 'wood'

'Err, no, not like that, I want some MDF cutting can you do that?'

Derek signed, looked at his colleague and shook his head before turning away, another member of the human race that had me firmly classified under the drawer marked idiot.

'Just tell me wha' you want mate.' That bloody word again, I punched him in the scrotum.

Only mentally, I resumed where I had left off only this time using my own bit of paper to turn slowly infront of my new enemy to demonstrate 'landscape', a bit like the scene in Father Ted explaining to Dougal the perspective of distance and that cows were only small because they were 'far away'

That sorted we moved on to the next bit, how many cuts and entered a whole new world of arguing over 1/8 of an inch taking into account the cutting blade and how on each cut I will lose 1/8 of an inch. Slowly and painfully we put together a cutting chart that he has scribbled rather meanly on a small piece of paper out of reach in landscape I may hasten to add although we had agreed to disagree with his term 'long side' to describe it.

'How many?'

'How many what?' Legs of lamb? apples? shots of vodka? I was sure he was missing a vital bit of information.

'How many squares?' A strange thing to ask as we had just worked out all the cutting and on the paper not two feet away from his face was the squares all marked out. Do I do what he did with the MDF and point it out with a bored look on my face, no, instead I counted them myself.

'Three per piece, which leaves three rectangular off cuts.' I was going to say 'landscape' off cuts but I was already close to a beating.

Ok, how many?' For the umpteenth time I rolled my eyes (when he wasn't looking) and thought you are joking again. I refrained from listing everything in the world and offered the word 'Squares?' Now it was his turn to think you are joking, squares was not the answer as what he really was after was how many MDF sheets did I want cutting.

'Five, to give me fifteen squares and fifteen off cuts.'

'Sorry mate, we don't do less than ten, we're trade only.' And with that he smiled knowing full well he had indeed won.

I picked up a price list and placed it infront of him, 'Portrait!' I said then turned it. 'Landscape! Portrait! Landscape! Not bloody long side!' and flounced out as best as I could.

And that is why I shop at my local DIY store.

 

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

Meadowhall This Saturday!

Only two days to go until our special joint Mr & Mrs Smith World Of Impossimals appearance at Castle Galleries, Meadowhall on Saturday 18th October between 1-4pm. If you are passing Meadowhall pop in and say hello, it's an entirely informal free event with lots of Impossimals, Jayne's fab new wildlife artwork, we will both be available to chat and sign pieces and the full set of the latest releases and sculptures will be on display, oh, and adult fizzy pop all undercover and surrounded by oodles of shops to visit.

It looks like it's going to be a great day, if you want to bookmark it on Facebook then click here or visit World Of Impossimals by clicking here.

If you enjoy the blog, Impossimals or even the silly pictures and jokes we post online we always like to add a face to a Facebook profile so don't be shy, make yourself known and don't forget there will also be five golden hares hidden around the gallery, find one to be in with a chance of winning an original piece of art later in the year!

See you Saturday :)

 

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

Your Computer Popular Weekly Program

Computers are exciting, there is nothing more satisfying than a bit of RAM to wake you up in the morning that you can POKE a BYTE into. Quite often I have breakfast with my ZX-81 and cook my eggs on its overheating heat sink. It's 1K of RAM is more than enough to satisfy my lust for computing power. Now I can share that with you with the EXCITING COMPUTER MAGAZINE exclusively available on 1200/75 baud modems everywhere.

NEWSDESK

SINCLAIR DELIVERS!

Purchasers of the new ZX-Spectrum have finally taken delivery of their new machines after a short delay due to demand. Sinclair apologised for the delay which in some cases exceeded the 28 days by 27 years. Arthur Crimblecock of Southampton said 'I'm absolutely delighted to receive it after all this time, unfortunately my children are now nearly thirty and couldn't give a toss about it but I have plans to run my own powerstation with the 16k of memory and sexy rubber keyboard'

LATEST APPLE GOES ON SALE THIS WEEK

Wait no more the latest Apple computer the Apple II will be available in the UK later this week for less than £400. Requiring nothing more than a ordinary television its set to revolutionise the computing world. The Apple III will go on sale two weeks later for £500 followed by the Apple IIII in six weeks time which features a new wood effect case and an off and on switch all for £600. Apple plan to release more new machines on a three week basis.

YOUR LETTERS

Is it possible to use my BBC Model B to reanimate a sausage? I have been reliably informed that if I hook a sausage up to the centronics printer port and type in the command *dir sausagelive the sausage will be able to walk unaided. Do you know which is the best banger to reanimate?

E.A.Walls, Bangor

I own a VIC 20 and thinking of buying an elephant, can you recommend and elephant that can type as I am having difficulty locating one and my local zoo is no help at all as they don't know what a VIC 20 is?

G.Raffe, Arafarafaraf

I am interested in computers and understand that I can program them, can you tell me how to program them to record Fawlty Towers on the BBC?

***STAR GAME***

Guide your fighter through the depths of space with our latest game for the ZX-81

10 PRINT "STAR FIGHTER"
15 REM Enter your own INKEY$ routine to move the 'V' left and right
16 LET A=0
20 PRINT "*";
25 LET A=A+1
26 IF A=100 PRINT "YOU FAILED, THE ALIENS WIN!"; GOTO 40
30 GOTO 20
40 CLS; GOTO 10

GAME REVIEWS

MEGA KONG

by N.Ipple

Computer games have come along way over that last few years and arcade conversions have become the norm. It's very rare to come across something new in this tried and tested arena so imagine my surprise when I loaded up MEGA KONG. I was blown away, literally. It's like playing a movie! From the opening screen where an actual animated KONG bounces up and down on realistic looking platforms to the detail maintained right down to KONGS nipples. It literally made my jaw drop on seeing a game that blows that arcade graphics out of the water. Literally I can't imagine game graphics getting any better than this, its so good I would go as far as to say BUY IT, you won't regret it! 

100/10!!!!!

FROGGY
by A.Noying

Another arcade conversion of a well know game called SPACE GORF MEETS PACMAN INVADERS OF PHOENIX see's our hero, a simple frog face the terrors of getting home.

From the outset you can tell its a quality game with the extensive on screen instructions with tell you everything you need to know to enjoy your true arcade experience. 

It's when the game starts that you notice it is indeed special, cartoon graphics bring the whole thing to life when you are faced with a speeding motorway in full colour to navigate. Your frog is especially detailed and fully animated using a staggering two frames a second. The sound is put to full use with a pleasant beep when you reach home.

Thoroughly enjoyable 9/10

CLASSIFIEDS

ZX-Toad wanted, will swap for Commodore Commode and a packet of Rolo's

ZX-Spectrum for sale, 48K. printer, joystick, £2000 worth of games, £5000 worth of computer furniture, £10000 worth of tinned peaches. £2.50 O.N.O, buyer must like peaches.

Dragon for sale, 32K colour, may be faulty as does not breath fire. £10

Teletext Enthusiast Group, vote for your favourite page. Find us on page 627

Diary Of A Wood Pigeon Pt 3

Friday

I'm fascinated by that black security thingy that Mr Smith keeps shouting at me about, it must be important or something but all it points at is the three long eared black hoppity things in the back garden that Mr Smith dotes over. I tried to find out what it is when I noticed a black string coming out of the back. Cyril said peck it but I wanted to see when it went. It took a while but eventually I managed to land on the window ledge where the wire went without falling off and looked in. All I could see was a square window showing Cyril on the back garden watching the hoppity things. How could I see Cyril in the house in the garden in the house? I almost fell off the ledge with surprise, just then Mr Smith entered the room and saw Cyril in the house in the garden on the square thingy and said some naughty words. I got so excited I wanted to ask him why Cyril was in the house in the garden in the house so pecked loudly on the window to get his attention.

He really should calm down, anybody would think I had pooped in his letterbox. He rushed to the window red faced and shouting, banging the glass. I however kept my dignity and just looked at him before falling off into his new plant pots from B&Q which scattered everywhere, it didn't break them until I accidentally on purpose kicked one down the small step where it broke with a satisfying crunch. By now Mr Smith had rushed to the front door but I had already settled on a nearby aerial, Cyril joined me to watch him clear up the mess.

 

Saturday

Bored. Had a fight with a squirrel in a conifer tree, he wasn't happy, I think I may avoid that area for a while after I made him drop his nuts. Went for a shout with the magpies but Mr Smith appears to be out or ignoring us today so instead me and Cyril went to look at the camera thingy again to try and figure it out.

Cyril couldn't care less, he just stood on top of it. 'Twirl me!' He shouted, 'pull that wire and twirl me!'. It sounded like fun, Cyril is hilarious when he gets dizzy, he just walks around in circles flapping. Pulling the wire though didn't twirl Cyril, instead it made the camera thingy go limp. Cyril slid off and suggested we had better keep our distance from it should Mr Smith return.

I went back to the window ledge to see if we had broke it but all I could see was no garden in the house but instead some horrid white plastic and some twigs. Very uninteresting.

Sunday

OMG! Mr Smith has gone mental again! He came storming out into the garden trying to fly, flapping his arms. I said to Cyril, he's so fat he'll never get off the ground but Cyril thinks he was trying to scare something away. We both sat on the fence wondering what all the fuss was about until he approached us, I didn't want to be around if he did fly and land on the fence, he would crush us both.

Mr Smith spent a long time in the garden today, up a ladder shouting and playing with his camera thing. I don't know why, it's not much fun is it? All you can see is a boring garden and hoppety things.

Mmm, maybe he likes to watch us said Cyril, I find that creepy, why on earth would he want to watch me take a wash in the bird bath the pervert. From now on I'll keep my back to the house.

TBC...

In case you were wondering, it's all true and indeed, ongoing...

 

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

Yellow Dick Road

None of this was there minutes earlier.

It's the second time this year that I thought I might be suddenly whipped up and deposited head first in a skip several miles away stripped of my clothes and mumbling incoherently when from out of the blue the weather took a turn for the worst.

It was around 3:30pm'ish yesterday and I was in the studio. Normally I have plenty of light but I noticed it was getting rather dark outside so popped on an extra light and carried on painting. It started to rain, it had been doing it on and off all day but this rain was different, it seemed to be hitting the roof really, really hard. It wasn't hail just very big drops of rain pattering away and the garden was awash. As I looked out of the window I saw something peculiar, the rain started to bend. I know that sounds weird but you could see the angle of the rain changing, instead of thundering down it started to curve into a forty five degree angle then bend a little bit more so the rain was whipping around nearly horizontal.

By this time the studio had started to get a few new rattles and noises but in the distance though I could hear a train. A train? Why would I hear a bloody train? The train turned out to be a mega gust of wind that parted the trees as it approached bring a lot of debris along with it. Thousands of leaves suddenly had the urge to leap off the branches, bits of paper curled and flapped amongst them as it rolled forward. Cats flew by mewling, cows were over turned, kids screamed, women fainted, I broke wind, you get the picture.

I had seen too many films, this was one of those 'nado things, you know the ones that carry sharks and witches whilst forcing you to wear a pair of ruby slippers (hmm, nice!) so immediately entered panic mode. Surely the four windows in front of me could blow in? What if the roof came off? How would I fight a shark using just a Mahl stick and a tube of Titanium White? Does my t-shirt go with red footwear? Whilst I stood there panicking it hit the studio; the doors rattled in the frame perfectly in time to my rattling sphincter whilst I shouted 'There is no place like home!' and frantically kicked my heels together ruining my slippers.

Then it was over. Apparently the tornado came down fully three miles away tearing through thirty properties causing pounds worth of damage and thousands in improvements (only kidding!, or am I?) A lucky escape then or this blog could have been entirely different and I would instead be complaining about a bloody lion and a scruffy man following me about whilst a third gentleman wanted me to squirt oil all over him the pervert. Still, I would have had a nice pair of slippers to show off.

The Met Office issued a statement 'I'm sick of working here' said one spokesman 'All they talk about is the bloody weather' he added before gathering himself and confirming that indeed a tornado had occurred and it was a one off event that was very rare. Gee, thanks for that, is it as rare as the last two we had earlier this year only a few miles from my house? I looked up rare to see if it's definition had changed to 'quite likely' but then I found the word 'pedant' and become obsessed with looking up similar words so got no further.

May I suggest that three tornados in one year over three square miles is indeed 'not rare' and should be considered 'quite likely' especially in the garden of Peter Smith who now walks around on a long chain should he be inadvertantly whipped up into the air during a common but rare weather event whilst he erects his brand new 'Tornado Alley' sign in his front garden. It was only February if I remember correctly that we were out on the street battling to mend a neighbours fence in winds that threatened to turn me inside out if I bared my backside whilst six foot planks were whipped up to flap around at head height and the conservatory roof was nearly peeled off.

Oh, and whilst we are at it Mr Met Office Man can we please have a bit more warning than a 'a few inches overnight' when forecasting snow for my house. The last time you did that I had drifts up to the windows and an average depth of snow to clear of 30'' (I have pictures! Of the snow I hasten to add)

I seem to be at some epicentre for freakish weather this year; hailstones that destroyed our plants, lightning that struck so close my hair stood on end whilst I sat in a studio that has two metal balls on the top like some Van De Graff generator waiting for a damn good strike and rain that was so severe it managed to flood Bunnyopolis with the ferocity of a localised Tsunami, all I need now is a small meteor to crash through the roof. If you think I have missed out earthquake that's only because that happend five years ago when it rattled the house enough to open all the internal doors and moved me enough to hit my head on the bedside table.

Ahh, that's better, I have just looked out of the studio window and it's sunny, a kind of watery sun that looks...

Oh, my, it's suddenly got very, very dark...

There is no place like home, there is no place like home!

 

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

Grumpty Dumpty

GRUMPTY DUMPTY

If it wasn't for bad luck he'd have no luck at all.

Grumpty Dumpty sat on a wall,

Throughly annoyed after his fall,

Bugger the kings horses and all his men,

The sods have put my feet on backwards again.

 

Grumpty Dumpty rode on a bus,

Suddenly from upstairs came such a fuss,

A drunk staggered down the stairs and went Hic!

Before turning to Grumpty and being lavishly sick.

 

Grumpty Dumpty went out for a meal,

For Grumpty this was always a big deal,

He bit something chewy and asked if they'd roasted them,

The waiter replied no, he'd found an animal scrotum.

 

Grumpty Dumpty once sang a song,

When from below came oh such a pong!

Stopping he looked down at his shoe,

And knew it was a stick job to clean out the poo.

 

Grumpty Dumpty went for a hike,

When from out of the blue came a speeding bike,

As it hit him he let out some high pitched squeaks,

When the bike wheel wedged firmly betwixt his arse cheeks.

 

Grumpty Dumpty was out in the sun,

Boy was he having so much fun!

A distraction from the side when somebody calls,

Made him step on a rake that hit him in the balls.

 

Grumpty Dumpty was having a snack,

Accidentally he spilled food from his rucksack,

A passing dog found some cheese crackers,

But instead turned to Grumpty and bit him on the knackers.

 

Poor Grumpty Dumpty, more tales of woe soon.

 

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

Sir Sandwich Of The Sausage

I have found a wonderful new website to play with; Bad Translations. Basically it takes perfect English then converts it back and forth through several languages and shows you the results. For example 'Hello, would you like a pound of sausages?' When entered would be dealt with like this :

From English: Hello, would you like a pound of sausages?

To French: Bonjour, aimeriez-vous une livre de saucissons ?

Back to English: Hello, would you like a sausage book?

To German: Möchten hallo, Sie ein Wurstbuch?

Back to English: Would want hello, you a sausage book

How great is that! 'Would want hello, you a sausage book?' Where did book come from? Anyway at no great expense I have been experimenting for you to see just what this thing is capable of. It's awesome!

Let's start with something simple...

'She sells sea shells on the sea shore'

After five translations it becomes the fabulous 'It sells some shawls to the lake in the beach' can you imagine the confusion? What if you needed the toilet badly?

'Could you tell me where the nearest toilet is please I'm about to deliver a horse to the sound of trumpets.'

After five translations becomes 'She, the tin, he says that that is more I am prudent where the cabinet satisfies I deliver a horse to the sound of trumpet.'

I can't believe that after all that 'deliver a horse to the sound of trumpets' remains intact.

OK, let's try some music lyrics, take it away Miley...

I came in like a wrecking ball
I never hit so hard in love
All I wanted was to break your walls
All you ever did was wreck me
Yeah, you, you wreck me.

Triple translated even old Miley would have trouble getting he mouth around this...

'I registered scrimmage to desire that went he when a ball of knocks down that I already so fortress in some magnet for breaks its walls, that never they did all she, the accident went PHWOOR, she, she knocks down me. '

A few questions, what is a registered scrimmage and what's with the PHWOOR? Although I do like the ball of knocks replacement for wrecking ball.

How about trying something really simple and childish - Farting.

Yay! It becomes Explosion. Let's try something else equally childish, 'I did a wee fart.'

Awesomely it becomes 'I did a small animal servant', this thing is good, I wonder if it can cope with jokes?

They call me Spider-Man.

I don't have super powers I just have difficulty getting out of the bath.

Becomes after six translations...

'They call me the man of spider. I have of the not large one one you are able to that I have only the difficulty, that comes from the bath.' Kinda loses a bit in translation, no, let's be frank, it loses a lot.

'When I am old I want loads of cats and a bucket of custard. I might like a sausage sandwich to eat as well.'

Translated 'If I am old, desire some shipments of the cat and a bucket of cream. It would be able to worship to eat a sandwich of sausage, also.'

I love the way it reverses stuff, a sandwich of sausage, shipments of the cat, it's like living in the 1700's; 'Forsooth has not thy shipments of the cat arrived? I could killeth thy sandwich of the sausage.' So in the finest tradition I will write the last section of the blog and get it to translate it back and forth five times, apologies for the following results, see if you can work out what I really said...

'OMG, the demands of Brussels has in did in way amused and the so strong blasts that his blast of ground is collapsed. The worst one than was be some full bus to the moment. A lady should be was caused to the hospital, said that that his face would not stop already recording the shake. It received some bus to the near standstill one and look, in a window many dogs, barked stopped one of them and appeared so preferred even though similar, when the word of kiss barked.'

 

 

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

sdrawkcaB

Start from the end and work backwards!

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PIES

My name is Dr E.Normous and I'm here this morning to talk to you about Sleep Eating a disorder that affects nearly 99% of the population at some time in their lives when inexplicable weight gain defies explanation. Most symptoms can be found in a sufferers dreams; you are what you dream. I regularly dream about sitting open mouthed under a tap that dispenses chocolate and I'm untterly convinced that this has contributed to my massive weight gain, a theory that has been validated by my colleague Dr Fuller Schidt who once dreamt he was eating a large marshmallow only to find his pillow had disappeared overnight.

A sleep eating dream occurs when a sufferer has eaten a trigger food, cheese is a typical example. I once ate a 5lb block of Red Leicester as a light snack before I retired and had the most terrible nightmare about living in Mansfield, inexplicably when I woke I had also put on 5lb's in weight, conclusive proof that just dreaming about living in Mansfield is enought for you to pile on the pounds.

BEWARE HEALTHY FOODS!

Rumours abound about the terrible nature of these so called fruit and veg so I added them to my research. I once drank two bottles of red wine (fruit) and a bottle of Peapod Burgandy (veg) and had a strange dream of chatting with a bag of carrots. When I woke two days later I found myself in the small cupboard under the sink mysteriously with the remains of several carrot tops scattered around me, somehow I had transcended between the dream world and this one further reinforcing my link between food and dreams contrary to my colleagues theory that I was indeed 'off my tits' and was seen sticking a cucumber through a letterbox and shouting I'm a Martian and pleased to see you.

STICK WITH PIES, THEY ARE SAFER

My research continued in Greggs where I decided to combine fruit (wine) and veg (Peapod Burgandy) with some of their succulent pies (sorry, 'bakes', if they call them pies they pay more tax and we wouldn't want that would we?) to see if I could offset the overnight weight gain of bad food. I managed 36 steak bakes, 27 sausage rolls and 16 strawberry tarts before being told I was causing a nuisance singing and should put all my clothes on and leave the shop. I don't remember much after that apart from being in a badly lit tunnel with the sound of splashing water until a colleague pulled my head out of the toilet and called me a disgrace to the profession after he opened his top drawer of his desk and found out what happened to the steak bakes I had eaten. My research nearly came to an end at this stage as all fruit and veg was banned from my desk.

THIS IS YOUR MIND ON FRUIT AND VEG - DON'T DO IT!

Fortunately I had a tuber, which is not exactly a veg is it. Potatoes defy classification in my mind. Well, at least it's not veg like when it's distilled into vodka, more of a liquid pick me up. My research continued with several bottles and I entered some kind of euphoric state of higher enlightenment, I was so overcome with this new insight I had trouble walking and my vision started to devide between this world and the next. It was awesome, I was the greatest dancer in the world, I made perfect sense to everyone I spoke to and the world was beautiful until somebody in the corner pointed at me, a long staring point that annoyed me considerably. I wobbled over still high on my ethereal knowledge and challenged the cad, needless to say he refused to not point at me so a scuffle ensued.

My colleagues pulled me off the wooden coat stand I was beating into a pulp after I became trapped in a large overcoat and lost a shoe finally proving that fruit and veg is indeed bad for you and cause horrendous hallucinations or dreams if eaten in any quantity.

So my professional conclusion is forget the five a day, stick to pies, crisps, pork scratching and the like as they are far more safer in my experience than dabbling with fruit and veg. I would even go as far to say we need to hideously overprice this so called 'good food' and start pushing the more safer processed food. Let my experience be your example!

SLEEP EATING BY DR E.NORMOUS M.M.D. O.B.E. F.A.T.T.Y S.O.T £12.99 FROM ALL GOOD BOOKSHOPS

 

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

I'm All Shook Up

William Shakespeare or Willy to his friends was one of our most famous playwrights and flamboyant fop of the tallest order according to Mrs Tingle who lived next door to him in Stratford Upon Avon. But did you know that Shakespeare loved Impossimals? We have taken the following famous quotes from his acclaimed work to prove a pointless point that needs pointing out to be pointless.

Romeo and Juliet

'Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo?'

Juliet is asking Romeo where her favourite piece of Impossimal art has gone, she's a simple girl and uses teen speak 'wherefore art thou' instead of 'where is thou art'. The piece in question is in fact 'So It's Not Fancy Dress Then?' One of the earliest Impossimal releases reminding Shakespeare of the time he turned up to a party wearing an oversized codpiece.

Hamlet

'To be, or not to be; that is the question.'

Here Hamlet is actually looking at the Impossimal painting 'The Naughty Step' and after counting the stripes and noting the colour he then wonders if the Impossimal is indeed based on a naughty boy called Toby The Tyke. It's often misquoted like above but the actual text when translated is 'Toby or not Toby? That is the question.'

'Though this be madness, yet there is method in 't.'

Shakespeare's reaction on first seeing the 'Rampant Jekylled Whatabanker' from the Bloodlines Lost Impossimal collection. He further went on to say these praising words about the 'Flamboyant Wonky Wonder' after finding an Old Jamaica Bar and Sherbet Dabs in the paintings shop window...

'What a piece of work is man! how noble in reason! how infinite in faculty! in form and moving how express and admirable! in action how like an angel! in apprehension how like a god! the beauty of the world, the paragon of animals! '

Richard III

'Now is the winter of our discontent.'

Richard III finally realises that there will be no Impossimal calendar this year and wonders how he will manage, although he does have a nice set of Impossimal cufflinks on order so all is not lost.

'A horse! a horse! my kingdom for a horse!'

News reaches Richard III that the new Impossimal sculpture '99 Problems' has gone on sale and tries to secure one before they sell out by riding to Ye Gallerie in Stratforde Upon Avone.

As You Like It

'All the world‘s a stage, and all the men and women merely players. They have their exits and their entrances; And one man in his time plays many parts.'

Shakespeare explaining his vast Impossimal collection to guests at a special Open Impossimal event at his house. Never short of a flowery word Shakespeare uses this unusual approach to take his visitors through the Impossimal world explaining that they are all real people and you can identify individuals by noting their body shape, stripe colour, stripe amount, eye and ear colour. His guests are suitably impressed.

The Merry Wives Of Windsor

'I cannot tell what the dickens his name is.'

Shakespeare famously quoting members of the public seeing Impossimals for the first time. In his notebooks he also pencilled in a few other quotes he had heard in his local Gallerie.

'What the bugger is that monstrosity? Doth thy artist employ monkeys? Giveth enough monkeys and a brush and eventually thy may come up with similar.' Heard after a member of the public saw an Impossimal painting for the first time in 1689

'Look thy other way, tempt not a desperate man with your false nonnery.' Heard at the 'It's A Stripe Thing' exhibition in 1691 after the artist Petere Smythe turned up with a two foot codpiece and shoes to match.

Today's education excerpts have been bought to you by Shakesbrush's Bit On The Side, a touring exhibition that will be at Castle Galleries, Stratford Upon Avon this weekend starting Saturday 4th October between 1-4pm where you can meet not only Petere Smythe but his wifey Jayne Smythe. All are welcome to this free event that features artwork, limited editions and sculpture as well as an extensive collection of faithfully restored William Shakespeare's Impossimal Prints for sale.

Go all olde worldy and come along on the day if only to point and laugh at his codpiece.

Castle Galleries, Stratford Upon Avon Peter & Jayne appearance and signing. Saturday 4th October between 1-4pm, all welcome!

 

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

NEW ROAD TAX RULES - IMPORTANT!

As of today you are no longer obliged to have a man with a flag walking in front of your motor vehicle but you must have with you at all times a spare starting crank should your 10cc engine fail on the public highway.

Motorway speeds will be reduced through the midlands area to sixty miles per hour in an attempt to cut pollution despite no information to back up the claims. Already we have lowered the speed to fifty miles an hour for twenty miles whilst we prepare the hard shoulder so when it goes back up to only sixty you shall be bloody well grateful.

It's nice to see so many of you already enjoying our 'no indicator' policy, please continue to not indicate when turning or overtaking. Big lorries take note; you are also allowed to swing out after a brief flash of an indicator to hold up traffic on the motorway for a minimum of two miles when overtaking.

Tax discs are no longer required, instead we shall be using number plate technology to check your details just like the one in the local car park that gets letters mixed up and fails to recognise N's before sending out fines for none existent vehicles that you own. Oh, whilst we are at it we will also sell your details from the electoral register now that local authorities have two registers and if you would like your name and details removed from the one we are allowed to sell please write to us and give us a further three months to press the delete key.

Children's toy cars now fall under the new Tax Scheme and will require not only road tax but also full insurance coverage for all children playing with them.

MOT's will now include a cup holder count, any car that fails to hold a full round of McDonalds AND McFlurries AND does not have a special apple pie cooling rack will have to undergo further retests after modification.

All journeys made with Sat-Navs are recorded and shared with insurance companies although I don't think we are allowed to leak that bit of information to you all yet. Apologies.

The Google Streetview camera crew has been given permission to enter every house in the country and photograph the interiors along with the owners. This is for the new Google Homeview being launched in 2015 as your privacy (ha!) finally disappears. Special bathtime cameras will be permanently installed in all bathrooms ready for Google Fruityview in 2016.

Mobile scooters will have to be able to prove they are roadworthy by jumping over two double deckers with a full load and riding on two wheels to fit down narrow alleyways.

Unicycles will have to be fitted with stabilisers before being allowed on the motorway after the incident of Coco The Clown on the M25 when he attempted to juggle at the wheel. Just past the Dartford tunnel he dropped a ball and lost his balance careering into two other unicycle clowns that were throwing custard pies at a pantomime horse. It created a mess that witnesses described as funny. Lions had to be bought in to control the crowds that had gathered to watch, the first two cars that turned up to remove the clowns lost both doors and a bonnet in the space of a few minutes before spraying water and bouncing up and down on over inflated tyres.

Finally a true story; Bus drivers, when an old lady is trying to make her way up the bus and you keep starting and stopping making her stumble from side to side and falling into passengers laps please refrain from referring to her as, and I quote 'like Stevie Wonder trying to leave a strangers house'

Enjoy your new paperless tax system on our overloaded website, normal overcharged poor service will be resumed shorty after we have finished counting all the pennies.

Thankyou.

 

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

The Secret Diary Of A Wood Pigeon Pt 3

Saturday

Couldn't find Mr Smith in the garden where he usually stands to shout at me so decided to slide down the conservatory roof. It's so slippy I had trouble controlling myself and flapped around a bit until I got my footing. Cyril, the silly oaf decided to glide in missing his footing completely and sending me spinning down the sloped roof. Fortunately I managed to stop by flapping and kicking that black thing stuck on the end of the gutter. I don't know what it is but when I looked in it I could see another me looking back. I dunno, I kicked it again and pecked it for good measure.

Sunday

Feel good. I pooped so hard off the aerial that Cyril heard the splat and he was four trees away! Hahaha! Mr Smith was back and in a rage, this time he shouted out of the window and pointed at my poop, I don't know why he is always angry with me, I'm sure he poops too but I don't shout and point at it. He then went on to shout something about kicking a security camera on the conservatory whatever one of those is. I'm sure he's going mental, it must be something to do with that brush thing he carries around with him.

Spent the afternoon convincing the magpie to shout loudly from Mr Smiths back garden. Every ten shouts that Fred did Mr Smith stepped out of his small shed covered in paint and flapped his arms about, it was soooo funny, I even chucked a couple of shouts in myself.

Monday

Went to inspect the camera thingy on the conservatory roof. Don't know what it does but when I sat on it the thing snapped! I flapped a bit at that I can tell you, I flapped even more when Mr Smith burst out of the door below and threw his slipper at me. He really has bad taste in foot wear, nobody has blue slippers anymore. Spent the rest of the day watching Mr Smith up a ladder doing something with the camera thing whilst cursing under his breath and pointing the screwdriver at me. Don't know what he thinks I can do with a screwdriver, secretly I think he has a screw loose, maybe he should use the screwdriver on himself. Haha!

Tuesday

Me and Cyril had a fight. It was his fault, he had been in my favourite tree and picked off all the berries. I was saving them for later the fat git. Unfortunately we decided to fight near the bedroom window of Mr Smith, Cyril managed to fly face first into it as he tried to get away leaving a big dusty imprint of his face and wings and a raging Mr Smith bouncing around inside. I could see Mr Smith was half dressed and still wearing those hideous slippers, how naff.

Wednesday

Had a little dance on the roof tiles, nothing special but I thought that a quick boogie would be a nice treat for Mr Smith, I'm sure he would enjoy it. It went tip-tap-tippety-taptap-tap, I then got the magpie to join in along with the crows. Unfortunately the magpie didn't like the crow much and they started to sqawk and fight, they got that excited that poop flew everywhere and I mean everywhere. Spent the afternoon watching Mr Smith washing his car, poop really does stick doesn't it? It took him nearly two hours. Decided to be really mean, I waited until he had turned away and did a fly by poop right on the bonnet. OMG he went mental! Hahaha! Mr Smith is SO funny!

TBC

 

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

Goats Love It!

Stuck what to do with your goat this Summer? Then be stuck no further, Blackpool Britain's oldest seaside resort has decided to become goat friendly in a bid to pull in the 'goatastic' crowds.

A spokesman for Blackpools tourist board explains 'As I said in the meeting, goats are farmyard animals that climb things Clive, why would we bloody want goats in Blackpool? I was then sacked after being ooverruled by ten to one on the suitability of making Blackpool goat safe and being accused of goatism.'

So from today all attractions are goat friendly so come along and join in the fun, even celebrities are getting in on the act at the Madame Tussauds Waxworks.

 'Goats are great' admitted Kevin Webster as he unveiled his waxworks this weekend, 'I think we should let goats drive trams and stuff, they have already got horns!' thanks Kevin, we'll do the jokes if you don't mind.

Gary had traveled all the way from Fleetwood to be the first goat through the newly refurbished Ripley's Believe It Or Not'. 'I don't believe it!' said Gary before leaping on to the counter and eating part of Big Ben made out of matches.

 The pleasure beach have installed special seats at the back of all their rides that allow goats to free stand in complete safety. Here Colin tries out the Wild Mouse. Unfortunately Colin could not be found after the ride but witnesses report a series of bleats echoed passed the tower sometime around midday and strange mysterious brown marbles were found scattered across the seafront. Witnesses say they were most unusual and smelt bad but were baffled as to why they were not sausage shape like the ones in the sea.

No visit to Blackpool would be com-bleat (see what we did there?) without a romantic trip in the tunnel of love. Here Bert and Mabel get ready to experience true love pumping action. Unfortunately the tunnel of love now reflects 2014 Britain so Bert and Mabel came out the other end shocked and unable to describe the sordid scenes of debauchery they had just witnessed. Mabel had to be revived as she recalled the 'Rampant' section and feinted again at the word scrollock.

Goats are welcome to visit Blackpool all through the summer where they will be holding various events such as Goat Pride and Miss Gorgeous Goat 2015.

Do You Want Fries With That?

Don't forget that this Saturday 27th September we will be making an appearance at the Castle Galleries, Trafford Centre in Manchester between 12-3pm. Everyone is welcome to come along to this free event to have a chat, get things signed and to see all the latest Impossimal limited editions, sculptures, special oil sketches and originals that will be there on the day with the added bonus that this is a Mr & Mrs Smith appearance so that means Jaynes fabulous artwork will be there too!

Also you have another chance to find five golden hares, our special tickets to a tremendous prize. These will be hidden in the gallery ready for the appearance and if you spot one it's yours for the taking.

If it's anything like last weeks event it should be a great day so don't be shy, come along and be part of the family as we celebrate all things Impossimal. It's even listed on Trafford Centres own website so we have got to turn up now!

BONUS!!!!!

Can you believe it! on the same day we are there the Trafford Centre is having a One Erection themed event with back to back One Erection music for an whole hour, a One Erection book launch (They can write?) and everything else One Erectioned! Wow! I have died and gone to somewhere very hot indeed that sounds like bell. You really couldn't write this stuff could you, all I need now is one of the Traffords faux roman style sculptures to break from its pedestal and crush me in the main entrance and my weekend would be complete.

BTW the new book is called 'Who We Are" a follow up to the popular 'Where We Are' and contains words and pictures. Mostly pictures. Just pictures as they try to fathom out who and where they are like a really crap where's Wally book.

So the choice is yours, boy band fop wig wearing appreciation or visit an ageing pair of artists that mentally exist in a childlike utopia who occasionally have multiple mishaps all in one day. Maybe this time we will not have to be escorted out by security like last time...
See you all tomorrow! Can't wait to hear 'Story Of My Life' back to back for hours on end, I might even wear my 1D t-shirt.

EXCLUSIVE EXCLUSIVE EXCLUSIVE

We have managed to gain exclusive backstage access and took this stunning photograph of the boys in action!!!!

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

Big Dogs Cockerels

Why has my Satnav developed a speech impediment?

I mentioned this the other week but it seems to be getting worse. It's not a corrupted sound file either instead it's replacing all the R's with R'ing so Birmingham becomes Biringmingham but it still pronounces the word road perfectly. It's awfully annoying to have to try and work out what it's saying as it keeps spluttering out garbled messages.

Take the next R'ingight, You have R'ingeached youR'inge destination.

Yesterday it had the audacity to pronounce Mablethorpe as MablethoR'ingpe which actually sounded like Mable-tho-ring-peeeee, it actually inserted a pause after the R'ing then proudly shouted out Peeeeee! It's all getting rather embarassing, I'm just glad I'm not going to Scunthorpe or we really could be in trouble. The last thing I need a Tourette's suffering Satnav. On a side note, Tourette's is a difficult problem to handle and I'm not in any way belittling the condition but a few days ago I was in a local supermarket when from out of the blue I was tapped on the shoulder and a large butternut squash was thrust infront of my face with the words 'It's a f@&king big dogs c@ck!' shouted at deafening levels in my ear. I have no experience of Tourette's and can only imagine the problems it can cause but at that very moment I smiled, said 'hmmm' and ashamedly squirmed inside whilst quietly agreeing it did indeed resemble such a dangling object.

Anyway, less of my daily personal hell and let me tell you another peculiarity that I have and that is smell.

Eating anything is always difficult, my sense of smell you see is very selective so I enjoy most food by texture and minimal taste. I know, weird isn't it? It must be something due to the same reason that at times I can place my finger on the side of my nose and squirt water through my tear ducts. OK this is getting a bit weird now and please don't ask me to squirt in a gallery. My sense of smell is restricted to a certain level of smell such as natural gas, petrol, tarmac and the like, give me anything sweet to smell and my senses switch off. It's all rather awkward when we are out and about as Jayne will smell the flowers and I will smell the farmyard manure pile half a mile away.

I'm rambling aren't I?

All this has been a long winded attempt to tell you that I am safely back in the studio and painting away after fruitlessly trying to get away from everything for a few days. Yesterday I managed twenty minutes of absolute peace and quiet on of all things a sand train, a train that cruises up and down a beach at the waters edge and nice it was too, we were the only passengers and the sun shone on a lovely day. Saw a few donkeys, made a small sandcastle and was hit by a reversing car driven by a turtle in a polo neck so all in all not a bad day. Oh, nearly forgot, attacked by a mob of seagulls after somebody threw a chip at me and witnessed a brown dog wearing a green neckerchief have a barking fit at bags of candy floss that I was standing near further confirming that I'm all part of a celestial comedy that's being beamed out there somewhere in the universe.

So basically back to normal, don't forget this weekend we bring our particular brand of strangeness to Castle Galleries in the Trafford Centre, Manchester. We will be there this Saturday, 27th September between 12-3pm so come along to meet us both at this free event. All the latest Impossimals will be there along with Mrs Smith's latest creations just don't forget to not bring along seagulls, chips and driving turtles and we will be fine!

 

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

Quiet Annoyance

After an hour or so we decided it was time to stop for a break. We had covered nearly three miles over rugged terrain and climbed nearly 900 feet in the process. I scanned the horizon for miles, not a soul could be seen so we perched ourselves on top of a stone stile and broke out the rations and poured a steaming cup of coffee.

'Excuse me, can we climb over?' said a little voice from nowhere.

I looked around unable to pinpoint the voice then looked down. From out of nowhere a small man carrying an oversized rucksack and even bigger oversized teeth had appeared. Don't even get me started on this, there was absolutely nothing for goddam miles in any direction, we had passed nobody, we were going on a beaten track that is barely used and we chose on purpose the furthest point away from everybody to have a coffee yet we had done it at exactly the same time as our new miniature colleague with the piano key teeth wanted to use the stile.

'No problem.' We said as we packed everything up and dropped to the floor.

'It's OK, I have moved the obstinate human obstruction!' Our small friend soon to be enemy shouted to a wall.

Obstinate human obstruction? What kind of flowery slightly insulting language is this? Then I realised as from behind the wall popped three similarly garbed individuals. They were serious walkers, you could tell that by the way they tuck in their socks and look you up and down as they pass checking out every bit of your gear.

My rucksack didn't pass muster as mine is from Tesco's basic range and not a triple pocketed hunter shufter MKIII with optional gas bottle and can opener. After all I'm only carrying a flask of coffee and a bit of lunch, I'm not wanting it to form part of an expedition to conquer the north face of the Iger. But boy do they look disgusted with me. Serious walkers are a bit like that, they spend many hours walking alone or with a group of like minded friends that they suddenly stop appreciating the landscape and become more concerned with doing it right and making sure they have a good crop of well deserved blisters to show off over a pint of real ale in the nearest pub. They have their own language too which usually consists of every walk they have ever taken mixed with the highest peaks and occasionally the benefits of Kendal Mint Cake.

Anyway where was I, ah yes, the fact that no matter where in this wide world I stop to have a coffee or a bit of quiet time some oaf with crazy teeth lumbers onto the scene and insults me, it's either that or a passing dog will have a fit of pique and lavishly attack me before the owners blame me for getting in its way. How on earth on a beach three miles long, that has a width of say 250 metres with the tide out do I get in a dogs way such as occurred a few weeks ago when a slobby dog pinned me to the ground? You can't write this stuff, seriously if you wrote everything down that occurred to me on a daily basis you would read it and think 'What a bloody liar, he's making all this up.'

Yesterday we had climbed up a rocky crag (yes, I know I do a lot of walking but it's in between painting, I wouldn't want you to think I was shirking my Impossimal duties) and had just about reached the top when lo and behold a sheep attacked me. I say sheep, it was like being in the film 300 as a complete field of them stampeded us bashing and butting their way to the other side of the crag. I never ever thought I would be trapped on a Derbyshire hillside watching sheep fling themselves willy nilly at us with little regard to what or who they hit as they sailed by. Contrary to popular belief sheep are not made of cotton wool and don't shrink in the rain, something I was reminded of as one landed in my backpack with an Uff! That was me not the sheep that went Uff!, it kind of went Bleat! and bounced off shaking it head.

Oh and whilst we are at it two fields away was the next way point, a nice stone stile to cross into a field full of cows. Hang on, that's no cow, that's a BULL! It's very difficult to walk with your sphincter clapping so loudly whilst nervously watching the young calves as they went back to daddy to tell him that those walking people are so annoying and are wearing the wrong backpacks. The massive huge mammoth bull approached and snorted, I snorted too. From my bottom. The thought of bouncing sheep careering into my frail body and knocking me two hundred feet down a mountainside suddenly seemed quite attractive compared to being trampled inside out and being found as a pulpy mess by the farmer who would stand there rubbing his forehead saying 'Well, I be danged' or something similarly country-ish.

The point is it dosen't matter where I am, or what time I do it I can never manage to find a quiet spot anywhere. Drop me in the middle of the Sahara and I would get a Bedouin come out of nowhere to ask me if I wouldn't mind moving along as I am making the desert look scruffy and using the wrong rucksack.

Sheesh.

So today I'm looking for a quiet spot again with another trip out, wish me luck!

I'm going to need it.

 

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

A Bloody Menace

Clowns, we have all seen them, we all hate them. They are a bloody menace with their red noses and comedy cars so we at the Clowns Pocket the only recognised clown eradication society has produced this guide to clown cleansing written by our esteemed leader Reginald Ballsworthy.

I'm Reginald Ballsworthy and I hate clowns. There, I have said what you were thinking. Clowns are a menace to society and undermine our victorian priniciples, just like the other annoying class of mime artists and street theatre. Access to clowns has become more prevelent with the internet, filters should be put in place to stop children seeing clowns accidentally, they are morally corrupting with their custard pie shots and squirting flowers. It makes me seethe, yes, seethe with morally corrupting fury at the unfettered access to clownography. In my day if wanted to see a clown fuelled custard pie POV I had to jolly well pay for it.

KNOW YOUR CLOWN

Clowns have red noses, that is true. You know why they have red noses? Because they are all drunkards probably the smiling clots. Anyway, should you see someone with a red nose then punch them HARD in the goolies. Their nose should pop off and you can add it to your trophy drawer.

Examine any noses you manage to secure, you may get lucky and find a makers mark such as M.Ade Inchina or M.Ade Intaiwan, both are prolific clown nose manufacturers and any clues like this can help in tracking down their elusive factory.

To successfully cripple a clown and remove a nose you should emply the ancient art of Tai Klown Do, the specially crafted violent moves to take down a mirth making individual. Don't by dazzled by the strange and colourful garb of the clown, it is made to deceive. For example any attempt to stamp on their feet will be thwarted as clowns feet rarely reach the end of their shoes, however standing on the end can disable their ability to run and turn them into a useful punchbag.

Using Fig A a quick karate chop to the windpipe will come as a surprise, rush around the back to Fig B and knee them squarely in the back. This disables the spine momentarily allowing you to mount them as in Fig C. Move your hips back and forward in a thrusting motion to loosen the nose or until you are spent. Beware! In Fig D we see a clown reversal, whilst performing your mounting action they may attempt to get you to ride them higher by holding on to your arms. If is occurs let them finish, afterwards they will be exhausted and you can kick them in the goolies without concern.

Here are four ways to grab or punch a nose. The delivery method bottom left shows a swift punch that will disable the nasal passage of the clownee whilst the top swing bottom right promotes a swipe action that batters the clown to the floor with a run up.

Should all else fail pull out your gun and shoot them. Clowns will need at least three blasts from an Elephant Rifle to go down completely, even then they may still retaliate with a car horn or squirty flowers.

Here we see Major Roger McButtocks taking down and entire troupe using a trusty magnum six shooter after first unleashing a volley of rifles from his anti-clown regiment after discovering a big top in the adjacent field to his home. This cannot be tolerated, those clown types are a bad influence and often lead to petty annoyance like children's entertainers and poor magicians so should be moved on or taken out as soon as possible. We are not all lucky enough to have an army willing to remove such a menace so it is wise to always have a man trap baited with a cream pie in the garden at all times.

Occasionally you may come across animals that have inadvertantly got a clown nose stuck to their own, these too should be taken out at any opportunity. Here we have a Clownodile surprising Major Burns, arm your manservant on all expeditions to avoid surprises.

I hope you are suitably informed on the menace of clowns. Do not fraternise with clowns, if you suspect your children have been exposed to clowns then contact us immediately and we will beat it out of them.

Symptoms of clown exposure include

Giggles, a penchant to wear coloured clothes, excessive use of makeup, an annoying car horn sound, the doors fall off your precious motor when you start the engine, you find shoes in your house with a size larger than 22 and they exaggerate all movements to the point of being excessive. You find deceitful buckets full of confetti hidden away and all the squirty cream has vanished from the fridge along with the paper plates.

What to do next

Set up a small tent in the garden and add a sign that says Big Top This Way. As they enter seal all the exits and give us a call, we will be around in minutes with a couple of cricket bats to sort it out in a humane way.

Thankyou for your patience, remember Born Free, Clown Free.

Be Alert!

Britain needs Lerts.

 

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