Apoc-A-Clipse

Tomorrow is the eclipse, made popular by its older cousin 'night' when daylight will become night light in the day. I hope you are keeping up as this blog is terribly important and may save your eyesight.

Firstly how to identify an eclipse.

Stage one, look at it and compare it to our handy chart.

 No, this is not an eclipse, this is a paperclipse and cannot block out the sun but can be used to clean out ear holes if you are the unwholesome type that does this at work. Additional usage for paperclipse include attaching paper memos to toilet rolls and occasionally holding together shoe laces for a trendy 'no tie' Back To The Future look.

  No, this is not an eclipse, this is a bicycle clipse, used to hold up bicycles for storage. Can also be used as a makeshift horseshoe, simply attach them to the bottom of any footwear and canter away to your hearts content whilst humming the tune to Black Beauty.

  No, this is not an eclipse, this is a hair clipse, often used to hold up hair that has suffered a hairpocalypse at the hands of a poor hairdresser. Also makes excellent nasal hair holders when sculpting into shapes.

  No, this is not an eclipse, this is a calypso renamed calippo after several incidents involving partygoers expecting more dancing and possibly music when turning up to a calypso party at an ice lolly company. Eating does not make you dance extravagantly but the empty tube can be used as a makeshift trombone.

 If it's dark outside it's the eclipse.

Or possibly it's night time.

Or you are indoors in a room with no windows and the lightbulb has just gone.

The picture above 'simulates' an eclipse, to simulate and eclipse in your own home in complete safety simply shut your eyes now.

Dusty Bin and Ted Rogers (Ted is on the right next to Dusty dressed in a blue Butlins jacket)

I'll do it with you, open them again when you hear me type 3,2,1 just like Ted Rogers on that game show with dusty bin.

Shutting my eyes...now!

Myam ashd ja awbauia bna asd! Kajkasbdh qwnmqw ainbaw awn w iwqoima apo heavbadsd.

76...

34...

...1

Open your eyes! Remember not to type with eyes closed.

Remember never, ever look directly at the sun, it's full of ridiculous stories to make your blood boil and it has tits on page three.

To avoid damage to your eyes always wear the correct eye gear to view in safety.

Sun-B-Gone is our patented eye wear for solar spectaculars! Dual Zeinithithy lenses magnify the suns brightness by X100 and our comfort chin strap and sausage grip ear levers guarantee comfort. See Graham in the photo above, his Sun-B-Gone's have not only given him an excellent view of the eclipse but also buffed up his body into a bronzed spectacular with bullet hard nipples. Buy one and get the man of your dreams delivered absolutely free from our sister company Mr Greys-2-Go part of the Greys-A-Go-Go Group of companies.

Yours for only £99!

(first payment of £99 guarantees your Sun-B-Gone reservation, 1,293 further monthly payments of £99 secure the services of our Mr Greys, should your Mr Grey become worn out or experience a flat during this period simply return him for a free upgrade. Choose from over fifty Mr Greys in our showrooms, from the rampant to dominant, from the buff to eye fluff the choice is yours. Non refundable, all Mr Greys come with minimal clothing)

Enjoy your Eclipse wherever you are and don't forget there's a repeat performance every night so you can experience the thrill of it getting dark time and time again!

Todays blog has been bought to you by the Eclipse Marketing Board, Hull.

22nd March Artistic Poses And Possible Nudity

Our GoGoDragon is nearly complete, just a few tweaks and coats of varnish and after two months of work Knickerbockergloria prepares to leave the studio. It's all part of a busy week this week as Jayne drops off a new batch of wildlife artwork and we both prepare for this weekend and an appearance at The Original Art Shop in Trentham on Sunday 22nd between 12-3pm

Always a very busy event, it's totally free, just turn up at the Trentham Shopping Village just outside of Stoke-On-Trent for a fabulous shopping experience, beautiful gardens and monkeys. Oh, and two slightly deranged artists that will be milling about waiting to chat, dedicate artwork and to talk endlessly about Impossimals, dragons, food, what on earth the symbols A and the number 150 have in common and many other weird and wonderful things.

So feel free to pop in and say hello, full details below in a shameless promotional blog post that has managed not to mention underpants like yesterday or flatulence like most days but we don't always promise not to turn up unclothed.

This Sunday, 22nd March, Mr & Mrs Smith appearance will be at The Original Art Shop at Trentham Gardens between 12-3pm, all welcome!

Shreddies

Caution, today's tale contains words that I can only describe to those of a certain age as 'language, Timothy!'

I have a constant source of amusement. I like to call it the terrible tearing tornado of terror and last week it claimed its latest victim.

Striking terror into the hearts of man no human has mastered or tamed it's wicked greed. Reaching terrifying speeds this vortex of velocity laughs at the brave...

Behold the fitness club spin dryer.

Over the years I have got used to its monsterous ways and now know how to firmly place my swimming gear safely at the bottom away from all the teeth and tearing. It only takes about five seconds with the lid shut to do its work, any longer and you risk destruction.

I can only assume its latest victim was a little inexperienced. He regarded it tentatively as he approached completely naked clutching his trunks and strangely a pair of underpants which too were soaking wet. After an all too brief glance at the extensive instructions he did what most newbies do and pretended he was dunking a basket ball throwing his soaking gear in then slamming the lid.

I should of warned him, I should of told him, I couldn't watch, I shouldn't watch.

I watched.

As soon as the lid is held down the full force of the vortex begins seeking out any weaknesses in the fibres. It started to squeak a little at five seconds, at ten seconds it was grinding but this guy was going for it, he was a twenty second demon.

Unfortunately as it hit the twenty second mark two things happened, first a tearing sound came from the vortex sounding very much like a very fast tremolo fart and incredibly similar to somebody ripping a yard of calico and secondly he raised the lid in panic rather too quickly and his trunks were unceremoniously catapulted into a corner leaving behind a small three inch strip hanging from the tornados mouth like a floppy tongue.

He stood there a few seconds trying to take it all in, unfortunately this also made him forget he was naked so when he went to retrieve his tattered trunks from the corner he for got to delicately lower himself and instead bent over. Now, I'm squeamish and I squirmed, even more so when he passed me on the way back and held out his trunks now reduced to several thong type strips.

'Have you seen what that bastard has done?'

I just looked at his face, you see he was still naked and his trunks were at trunk level where his trunk was and I don't look at strange men's trunks, certainly not after seeing his starburst. I shrugged but he went on.

'It's knackered them, I've dropped my underpants in the shower too, what a sh@£ day!'

Off he waddled towards the offending machine pulling thin threads of cloth from his slaughted trunks. Oh no, I thought, he's not going to attempt to dry his underpants is he?

He was.

A little more guile this time so he approached carefully and opened the lid. Softly he placed in his soaking shreddies, patted them down and started to close the lid. To make sure he didn't trap them he squatted to get a better view as it closed. Unfortunately I got a squatting squint winking back at me, he was still unclothed. Urgh.

Satisfied he pressed down the lid and gave it a two second blast. Pleased with himself that no mishaps occurred he peered in and touched his underpants. They were still wet, two seconds is no use to man nor beast in the world of drying spinnography. After a cursory poke he closed the lid again for another two seconds and pondered why it wasn't drying. From experience dear blog two seconds is barely enough time, no sooner has it started its process than you are suddenly cutting it short. I stood transfixed at this naked chap alternatively pressing, opening and poking so to speak his soaking undermeat garments to no avail.

Then a light bulb moment; simply place the ripped 'to within an inch of their lives' trunks on top to take any devastation unleashed and viola! You can leave it running as long as you like!

In theory it sounded plausible, in practice adding bits of strips of cloth on top was always going to cause problems as he found out quite quickly after ten seconds when the machine came to an expensive sounding stop. It's not very often you see somebody fume like in the cartoons. He pulled out his underpants in much the same way a magician would pull out a row of bunting from his sleeve; bits of string accompanied by tatters of fabric, some in V shapes.

'You absolute bastard!' He said holding the joined strips between hand to hand just like you would if you had cut out a row of men all joined together from a folded newspaper. No sewing bee in the world could put those together again. A sorry bit of elastic hung out of the trunk flap and it had gained enough leg holes to fit comfortably on a spider.

I turned away, unable to control myself anymore and buried my head in my towel to virtually laugh, cry my amusement away. The last image I had was of him stuffing his pants down the back of the locker for somebody else to puzzle over whilst struggling to pull up a pair of jeans over bare nether region skin and delicately pulling up the zip whilst bending forward to avoid trappage.

And that dear reader is why I always take a locker that has a great view of the terrible machine. W

ho will be its next victim I wonder?

Will it be you?

 

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

Shoe

Free shampoo, free notepad and pencil, free soap, all these pale into insignificance when you enter a hotel room and find a shoe mitt. Shoe mitts are the holy grail of hotel freebies, forget the emergency sewing kit, put aside the complimentary shower cap, shoe mitts are probably the most useful of all the non essential fluff you going to get.

For a start they clean shoes. I know that is obvious but they really are good at doing just that, you even get to slip your hand in the mitt so you can give them a good rub. They really come into their own though when you use them for jobs they were not designed for.

Got a smartphone or PDA? Yes? Shoe mitts make excellent screen cleaners and in some cases are large enough for you to slip your hardware inside to give you a free handy dust cover.

Don't want to lose jewellery in your suitcase? Pop your items in the shoe mitt pouch and not only will it keep them safe it will also buff them up a little too.

They make excellent finger dusters for those hard to reach places such as the top of door frames and awkward light fittings.

Cut a lemon in half, pop it inside the mitt and squeeze. Voila, instant lemon juice minus all the pips.

Got a cold? Use a shoe mitt as an emergency handkerchief, they are soft enough to soothe your nose and tough enough to take the punishment of a good sneeze.

They make excellent sleeping bags for mice and with the addition of a shoelace handle they can also transform into a makeshift shopping bag for cats.

In a culinary emergency assert your authority with the shoe mitts instant chefs hat. Ideal for that f*!?! Gordon Ramsey moment.

During Summer (in the UK I'm referring to the 3rd July, between 1:45pm and 2:12pm, other places may experience a different Summer) use the mitt to apply sun cream without getting your hands all sticky.

In Winter a pair of mitts make excellent mittens, double them up for extra warmth.

Got loads of shoe mitts? Wear them all at the same time to give you a free oven glove.

New potatoes can be safely carried in this miniature potato sack.

Staple one to your favourite armchair to give a pocket for your favourite remote control ensuring you never lose it again.

Attach one to your belt for a wallet scabbard. Bystanders will be amazed as you whip out your wallet just like a sword to pay for that mocha latte frappé double chocolatte large coffee with cream.

Save them for Halloween and hand them out filled with sweets to trick or treaters, after the contents have been scoffed the mitt will ensure they never have dirty shoes again, it's the gift that keeps on giving.

Shoe mitts make excellent shark repellents, I wear mine constantly at home and have never been bitten by a shark yet.

So the next time you are in a hotel room cherish the shoe mitt, save them, use them, you never know when you will need one.

*Shine - All shoe mitt suggestions should only be carried out by a shoe mitt expert grade one, purple belt. Amateur shoe mitt devotees should just stick to shoe mitt recommended duties for safety reasons. Shoe mitts are not designed to replace boats, edible items and/or people no matter how many eyes you draw on them. Shoe mitts come in various sizes, always choose your shoe mitt carefully to avoid disappointment. Never use shoe mitts to apply makeup or to feed lions. Never leave a shoe mitt unattended after midnight and never EVER feed them popcorn.

This blog has been sponsored by the Save-a-Mitt Foundation, your donation of £6152 a day could save a starving family of Shoe Mitts from a fate worse than buffing. For details of sponsoring a shoe mitt family call 08912-MITTSAVENOW-9861 and ready your credit card.

Bargain Corner

 Struggle with shifting sheep? Rams getting rammed on stairwells? Then suffer no more with our easy glide sheep shifting system with optional remote control.

 Simply slip one of these uniquely engineered items under each leg and your sheep will be as slippy as a slippy thing from slipton. Watch them glide with ease down streets, supermarkets and even motorways! Our unique lever system takes the strain out of fitting and our lifetime guarantee gives you piece of mind that you can still shift sheep effortlessly in your old age. Comes complete with floating sheepdog kit.

 On a diet? No time to prepare real meals? Don't pay for expensive ready meals just try our time saving Multi-Pan. Now you can cook chips, ice cream, alphabetti spaghetti and even wool - ALL AT THE SAME TIME! A sturdy stainless steel divider provides four unique cooking areas to fill with your dream meal. Cook for the kids, the husband and the dog all at the same time. Laugh as they get mixed up and mop up the tears as they spend the night on the loo. Free steamer, steam anything and everything, make your own shrunken heads - it's so simple!

 Sick of snails ruining your garden? Slugs slithering on your salad? Our patented sign system(tm) safely guides slugs and snails to a neighbours garden. Guaranteed 100% reliable (as long as slugs and snails have passed basic literacy) Bonus signs deter horse drawn carriages and offer helpful directions.

Old? Like Rock? Then how about the devil of rock music himself lighting up your garden with 'Shout At The Moon' with our fabulous Ozzie Owl sculpture. You can be assured no thought at all has gone in to its design and every detail has been recreated in the finest plastic. Be the life and soul of your neighbourhood as moonlight automatically activates the laser eyes whilst an ear piercing 'hoot' will curdle the blood of your friends and pyrotechnics scorch your lawn.

All our latest bargains are available from our website at www.cobblers4coins.co.uk NOW! Order today and receive before Christmas 2015!

I'm Wearing Pantaloons

Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall,

Humpty Dumpty had a great ball,

All the kings horses and all the kings men,

Started to call him Odd Ball again.

 

Mary had a little lamb,

She also had some pies,

What was in them was probably horse,

And the packaging was all lies.

 

Baa baa black sheep, have you any wool?

Yes sir, yes sir, three bags full.

Bugger me, a talking sheep!

 

Hickory dickory dock,

The mouse ran up the clock,

The clock struck one,

And a pitched battle ensued that saw the demise of an entire generation.

 

Old Mother Hubbard,

Went to the cupboard,

To get her poor doggie a bone,

When she got there,

The cupboard was bare,

So the poor little doggie had and absolute fit and in a piqué of anger devoured Old Mother Hubbard.

 

Mary Mary quite contrary,

How does your garden grow?

With silver bells and cockle shells,

It's a right mess, seaside in a garden? I don't think so.

Moanday

Monday's are notorious for being one of the worst days of the week, the weekend is behind you and five long days stretch out to almost infinity, here are five facts about Monday to make you feel better.

1) Monday's used to be called Moandays in victorian times named after the collective moans of workers being awoken all at the same time by knocker uppers, gentlemen with large sticks that used to bang on a workers bedroom window to awaken them with a startle at 3am in the morning. A typical working day started at 3:02am prompt and employees were expected to work a full twenty three hours straight seven days a week leaving them just an hour to sleep, eat, get married, have children and any other activity deemed pleasurable. Workers were paid two pieces of coal a week (worth around 1/2p today) and in the case of chimney sweeps had to be able to dance and scissor kick on rooftops.

2) If I said you had a face for Monday's it would not mean you were a happy soul, no, it would mean you are a sour old trout with a penchant for winning gurning competitions without even trying. For you see a Monday Face is another term for a miserable bugger you miserable bugger.

3) The best Monday in history occurred on March 3rd in 1984 when Kate Curlywhirly managed to record her favourite song off the radio and managed to stop the cassette recorder just in time befor the DJ spoke. Result!

4) The worse Monday in history was today when readers of this blog had to explain to younger readers what a cassette recorder was from the previous fact.

5) Every day has the word day as part of its wording and many combinations of word-day was tried before we came up with Monday, Tuesday etc. Other days considered but eventually dropped by the Weekday Naming Society in 93BC included Hadawayday, Twaddlerwaddlerhiphappyhooday and the short and snappy Today which we still use to describe any day we have forgotten the name for. Tomorrow didn't come into general use until the invention of the clock, up until then every day was today and there was no nighttime either. We still don't know how the inventor of the clock knew what time to set his clock by, it is supposed he did it by looking at the sun but no matter how hard we look scientists have never seen the suns numbers to confirm that indeed our clocks are set at the right time.

6) Just realised there is only supposed to be five facts so ignore this one even though it's probably the most interesting of the lot. Did you know if you rearrange the letters in Monday you can make the word Donyam, the rudest word ever uttered by man that translated actually means 'small prunes and a baby carrot' absolute filth.

 

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

Springty

Bunnyopolis is just getting over winter and starting to be a little more spring like. Aaran, Jura and Iona have started to spend more and more time outdoors as the little buds start to appear on the apple trees and small shoots of fresh grass appear and gets nibbled away rather quickly. As the nights get a little lighter this pattern will continue and tea time for the buns starts to shift away from 2:30pm to around 4:30pm as their natural body clock adjusts to the new year.

It also marks a change for both of us too, the conservatory adds an extension to the studio allowing us to work in full natural light and to open up a much larger working space. This gets further extended when it gets warmer as the doors are flung open to give us all the benefits of the decked area. Jayne is working along side me on her own artwork assembling all her hand made ceramics whilst I plough on with Knickerbockergloria, that way we both get to enjoy watching our three Bunnyopolis occupants enjoy the garden throughout the day.

And so our days continue, interspersed with strange and weird events that occur all too frequently. The chances of another unsual occurance increases this weekend with our appearance at Castle Galleries, York on Saturday 7th between 1-4pm. As usual everyone is welcome to come along on the day to join in the Impossimal fun, maybe this time I won't be chased by a swan or indeed be accosted and followed by a lively gentleman that told me he 'enjoyed my trousers immensely'. Oh no, that's bought back memories of running down ten flights of stairs in Southampton dressed only in my undergarments after a drunken reveller hit the fire alarm button at 1am only to be greeted by a gaggle of other hotel revellers at the bottom asking me where I got my underpants from. Come to think of it the same thing happened at the same chain of hotels in Cambridge, I wonder if there is a connection or indeed they just like my choice of underwear?

All in all a rather mundane blog today, sorry about that, I'm sure I'll think of some fresh tat for tomorrow so until then have a great Wineday Eve!

 

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

K9P

Oh no, what happened? I was promised tours to the moon, moving sidewalks, domed cities underneath the sea and even promised a faithful robotic sidekick just like K9 from Dr Who when I grew up. I was eight years old when a teacher decided to predict the future and fill my mind with mystery and misery. As I sat cross legged with my fellow pupils I listened with open mouth at the marvels that we were to behold. This was before home computers, before mobile phones, before CD's and MP3's, even at home we had not long upgraded to a colour television and coloured disco lighting, the most complex thing I had used was an abacus and none of my friends wore branded clothes or owned anything more complex in their bedrooms other than maybe a radio or if you were lucky a cassette player.

So as I sat and listened my mind wandered, wow, I would be REALLY old in 2015, absolutely ancient in fact but on the plus side I would eat a pill for a meal and live to be 200, this teacher really knew their stuff I thought.

Imagine my dismay this 2015 when I got out of bed this morning and ate a pill, not for a complete meal but to make up for the lack of vitamins in most flaccid food items available today, found out that the closest I'm going to get to the moon is looking at it in a puddle and opened my iPad to find this... (yes, something did come true with smartpads although the the teacher described it as a personal data assistant and medical aid which could also add 2+2 and spell 53I8008 should you wish to turn it upside down)

Pizza scissors.

I'll let that sink in a little, scissors for pizza.

Forty years waiting for dreams to come true and I get a foot long tool to cut fast food.

I may hasten to add that the same teacher also made grim predictions that added to my neurotic young brain, first that all fuel will run out by 2000 but it wouldn't matter as nuclear destruction would destroy all life in 1999 anyway, secondly robots would put us all out of jobs in the 90's no matter what education you receive and finally the most dreaded information possible that I could receive; that I would be playing an Indian squaw in the school play.

I did indeed play the squaw, pigtails and all. That unfortunately did come true.

But what happened to my robotic canine assistant? Well, that kinda sucked too as he popped up on my Facebook newsfeed last night. History has not been kind to K9...

Poor K9, reduced to a franking machine, how the mighty have fallen. Chin up, at least you didn't have to strip down to your pants, wear a black wig and dance around a tissue paper camp fire with a rubber tomahawk like I did.

Last night.

Oh my.

 

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

Busy B's

Since the launch of five new Impossimal pieces at the beginning of February Impossimal HQ has been a hive of activity. Launches always bring with them a heavy workload but this year we had the additional task of managing two unique events.

The first is the special Impossimal night at the Michelin starred Pipe & Glass with the release of a commission piece, full details can be found on our website and secondly is our GoGoDragon, a six foot high sculpture called Knickerbockergloria which will grace the streets of Norwich for three months later this year.

The Pipe and Glass Impossimal painting is finished so the next few weeks will be trying to finish this last project, the picture above shows the small heart shaped alcove that will be painted onto our Dragon allowing you to peep inside at all the goodies. I'm expecting to take a week to paint both sides before we finally attach Jayne's 500 ceramic snowflakes to the wings. If all goes well by the middle of the month she will be complete and another project is finished.

Then the hard work really starts.

Ten stories, twelve oil sketches, six paintings, four sculptures, a 2016 calendar and a new range of greeting cards all to be shoe horned into four months. A tall order indeed so in way of a much needed rest from the hectic pace we have decided to include appearances too!

So if you wish to meet two ragged, overworked artists who are a bit saggy and loose at the seams then get yourself along to Castle Galleries in York this Saturday 7th March between 1-4pm and we will both be there for a chat, a few stories, some japes and of course to have a bit of a rest. Oh, we may also tell you about our little secret...

What is it? You will have to come along to find out!

See you Saturday :)

Shirley Not

Mental and possibly unstable our intrepid Impossimal pair face the unexplained on the Magical Mystery Walk...

The walk started quietly when we approached the first gate, we read the sign ominously and a single shot rang out in the distance. Just as we were about to turn back disturbed by the sound a strange eerie twang of mystical music caught our attention from the bushes. We couldn't believe our eyes when from out of the gloom materialised Paul, Ringo, George and John accompanied by the tune of Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds. Follow the girl with kaleidoscope eyes whispered Paul, eat the mystic mushrooms for a journey with the walrus said John, you will find them down't road. I wish I could drum said Ringo and with that they rose into the air, sang When I'm 64 and exploded in a shower of sausages and flowers. It's going to be one of those days I said turning to Jayne. It was just then I noticed a strange sparkly glow somewhere down the path so we investigated.

There, just like John had said was the ghostly mystical mushrooms in full view looking enticingly delicious, they had even been cooked as steam rose from them readily. Being hungry for adventure we tucked in.

Nothing happened. We waited and still nothing happened so we strode on puzzled. As we approached the first style we heard the unmistakeable sound of electric feedback and a small pother of smoke rose from behind a stone wall. Twang! Twang Twang TWANG! it was the unmistakable sound of a riff.

Suddenly from behind the wall out leaped Jimi Hendrix blasting out Voodoo Child at 120 decibels, he was really working himself up into a lather, his guitar smouldered from the localised bush fire he had started. Jimi was herding sheep with his wah-wah pedal and guiding sheepdogs with a lightening version of All Along The Watchtower. After smashing up the stone wall Jimi wandered off down the hill tootling out Purple Haze after asking us if we were experienced whatever that means and with that Jimi was gone. Far out I said to Jayne, that was some groovy sh*t.

Further on down the muddy fields we came across the tracks of a large mysterious creature. It looked like the tracks of a big cat wearing platform heels but on closer inspection it was two tracks walking side by side. Platform heels in the countryside, what on earth could that be.

In a blinding flash and a burst of Children Of The Revolution out leaped a white tiger from the bushes carrying no less than glam rocker and pouting pop diva Marc Bolan. 'Cool dudes' said Marc riding side saddle, 'Take the love bus brothers, it comes your way, any way, no way. Get It On 20th Century Boy find the one they call Belvis and mind the mud, it's un-cool man' Marc rode off on his white feline stallion leaving us facing the possibility of wading through mud'

The band was already waiting and taking cue from seeing Marcs feline transport started to sing their favourite hit, 'Tiger Feet'

There was no way we could stop them, Mud wouldn't let us pass until they got to the chorus. Their Tiger Feet frenzy started to gain pace and enthusiastically they danced closer and closer. 'This is a bad trip man' said Jayne, 'We need the Love Bus' I replied.

Then, from out of the bushes as if by magic the Love Bus arrived hitting Mud squarely in the rhythm box just before the chorus. One of them tried to run for it but the number 21 from Cricklewood ploughed him down into the hedgerow before returning to pick us up. The bus conductor leaned out, 'Get On' he said, it was no other than pint sized golf ball haired Leo Sayer. 'Top deck disco train' he announced, 'Next stop Cliffs Ladders' which mysteriously was exactly what our next destination was we had on our map. Spooky.

The bus stopped to the tune of Disco Inferno and we bid farewell to Leo, he hadn't had chance to sing but he had a pained expression on him that told me his pants were too tight. Cliffs Ladder was at the end of a large field, we just had to turn right when we reached Cliff and Cilla's Bathtub and climb to the stars.

The other side of the ladder took us back down to where we started hours earlier, our final destination was Belvis Books, the worlds smallest bookstore and home to the worlds smallest Elvis which we found at the end of the street with little problem.

The bookstore beckoned, Belvis peeked out beckoned us in, as we approached he leaped out of the door, thrust his hips so hard he almost broke his back and burst into song with a heart wrenching rendition of 'Old Shep'. We were in tears before the final chorus.

Entering the bookstore we were quite surprised to find ourselves back at home slumped on the sofa. Three bottles of wine lay scattered on the rug, a smashed glass lay on the table and our mouths felt like they had been carpeted. A pounding in our heads made us realise that it had been a bad trip, bought on by those pesky Beatles boys and their wicked druggie ways, we vowed never to take advice from mop top bush dwellers ever again on a hike.

To celebrate our new found revelation we opened another bottle.

But that's another story!

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

Car Park Picnics

Oh no! The car park picnics are back next week!

On Saturday 7th March we will be appearing at Castle Galleries, York between 1-4pm for dedications, stories and numerous other things for an exciting Impossimal day for all the family. Come along for a chat, a coffee, a drink or a bit of food along with some fine artwork, all welcome no ticket necessary, hats optional, horse drawn carriages preferable.

Hopefully it will exclude previous appearance experiences like being licked from ear to head, having a large quantity of broken glass fall on me and of course three naked men in a toilet so it should be a pretty safe day. It does however herald the return of the car park picnic where we both dress up in our finest and find the dingiest car park in England to eat food, often surrounded by other bemused car park users that try and figure out just what and why we are doing it. We reply by raising our steaming mugs of thermos flask coffee and mouthing the word cheers back to them.

Unfortunately this does have side effects as witnessed in Cardiff when I mouthed word 'Cheers' and raised a cup of coffee to a nosy passer-by which unfortunately coincided with his opinions on a crucial Wales V England match that was occurring that day and it was mistranslated as 'Big Ears' to which the polite gentleman tried to extract me from the car through the ventilation system by means of my nostrils.

Other unfortunate incidents include the infamous 'FOX' found HERE , several spitting incidents and a full blown armed robbery. Sigh, at least it made for a blog entry even though I nearly turned myself inside out through my sphincter.

So if you are in YORK on SATURDAY the 7TH MARCH between 1-4PM then pop in to CASTLE GALLERIES, we would love to see you and have a chat. 

I may even lick your face if you ask nicely!

You'll Like This, Not A Lot

Welcome to the magic world of Shawl Daniels and his lovely assistant Peggie McGee, prepare to be bewildered and amazed in fun sized proportions with feats of mystery beyond compare!

I'm Shawl Daniels and I have some tricks that you are going to like, not a lot, but you will like them. Not a lot but you will like them in a not a lot kind of way but you will like them.

Think of a card, any card between A and Z. Hold that thought whilst I bring on my assistant...with your CARD!!!!

Is this your card? Are you sure it's not? Ah well, sorry folks I'm just fooling around, you're going to like this, not a lot, but you will like this more than a little.

Is this your card? Of course it is! You have a birthday each year so at some point you will get a birthday card, now THAT'S MAGIC!!!

Watch carefully folks as I perform a trick that is one of the most dangerous ever devised. The see-saw circular saw sling shot, a trick that will see me catapult a working circular saw from one end of the see-saw to the other, I will then catch it in my mouth to rapturous applause!

Start the saw Peggie McGee my delightfully attractive human goat assistant.

Bzzzzzzzzzz!!!!!!!!!!!

Full throttle please, I want to hear to danger!

I'm ready, launch the saw!

Screeeeeeeeeeee!

Schlop.

Tis but a scratch! Nothing can stop me!

Groan, pass me my hand Peggie, it's over there next to my head.

 

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

Yellow Rages

Flop, plonk!

Another tome of dubious nature dropped on the doormat the other night and steadily released it's contents of rain water onto our floor. I mean, who delivers the Yellow Pages on a stormy Monday night in almost horizontal rain at 9pm? Sigh.

The YELLOW PAGES! The Yellow Pages! the yellow pages, yawn...

Really, how does it survive in these days of the Internet, it even pleads quite naively on the front cover 'Look Inside For Web Addresses It's Like Google From The Pound Shop' (I made that last bit up) Indeed it does give paying advertisers their web address just like it has always given phone numbers which leads me to think that maybe I could find them on the web anyway but then again, most businesses that advertise in the Yellow Pages seem to have some of the most obscure names.

'Hello Bago' was one selling furniture whilst Hair-B-Wigs was unfortunately lacking in originality if not spelling. No, the best thing about the Yellow Pages is playing it like a board game. It's really easy, simply choose a category and see how many times it redirects you, the more redirects the bigger the score! Simple!

Lets start with Book Shops (this is the Chester And Mansfield Edition should you wish to play along).

Here we are -BOOK SHOPS on Page 27 it says Turn To Books - Rare And Second Hand Page 27. Not a good start is it, swiftly I turn to the exact same page and read on...

Books - Rare And Second Hand - See Antique Dealers Page 16

Page 16 (And I'm Not Making This Up) Antique Dealers - Other Options Books - Rare And Second Hand Page 27 or Jewellers Page 141

See, already I have racked up a few points, I can now turn back to Rare And Second Hand Page 27 or try and find books at Jewellers Page 141

I go with Jewellers Page 141 and find to my surprise Other Options Antique Dealers Page 16 it's like Inception, its a book within a book within a book. Hope you are keeping up because my brain hurts.

But my overall best bit is right at the front on page 05 as they call it, a section called Looking Good, Feeling Great that contains handy tips like...

If you need treatment on your feet you need a CHIROPODIST who deals with feet. Who knew!

If you need beauty treatment then go to a BEAUTY SALON or HAIRDRESSERS. Ah! There's where I have been going wrong, I will no longer get my haircut at the butchers.

Then, quite randomly is a piece of information that offers me no quality insights at all, its a small circle on the page that simply says 'The worlds first celebrity hairdresser, who styled the tresses of the rich and famous in 17th century Paris'

WHO?

Which hairdresser?

Don't leave me hanging with this titbit of information what is it a bloody quiz? Have you hidden the answer under HAIRDRESSERS - 17TH CENTURY - Other Options Public Executioners Paris or Guillotine Operators 18th Century Page 817

I now know why its shortened to YELL.

Whilst we are at it, who remembers the little stick man they used to hide on the pages?

I bet he's hiding in shame.

Cobblerchat

I am Rajah The Great, the only soothsaying tiger on Blackpool sea front. What may I predict for you today?

Well, sometimes I think I'm a lion. I don't know if it's my hair or that I occasionally like to hunt gazelles in Tesco's. Anyway, I would like to know If I should approach my new neighbour. You see they are very gazelle like and I'm not sure if I could trust myself not to take a leg off in conversation.

I heard that! It's bad enough you're my neighbour with all your roaring at two in the morning and the party the other night when you were chasing zebras around your lawn was disgusting. I'm still picking up bits of mane, what on earth did you get up to?

Ahh yes, sorry 'bout that. I got carried away when our 'snacks' escaped and we had to round them up. It won't happen again, I have hired a professional chef for the next one, you may know him, it's foul mouthed Gordon Whimsy.

What the f@&! Do you f@!?£&/ mean? Are you f@&?!?! stupid? Who writes this thing?

Unfortunately dear blog readers we have had to sack today guest writer Peter Panda because quite frankly it is so random that I'm awfully confused and I can't even guess how confused you are on a Monday morning. Instead here's a few new words to be used at work today.

Mumblewhiff

You think you have heard somebody whisper but it's only when you turn around and open your mouth to ask that you inhale a rumblytumbly let loose by a colleague who then grins at you. 'You Mumblewhiff one more time and I'll shove a cork in it!'

Cobblerchat

Someone who talks endlessly about nothing in particular who you would quite happily silence with a chair leg.

Business Meating

Flaccid ham sandwiches at any work function.

Loocation

Time spent avoiding work whilst sat in a toilet cubicle reading the paper.

Asshat

Not only do they talk out of it but they have their head so far up it fits perfectly.

Normal'ish service will return tomorrow with a buffers guide on how to win an Oscar and trampolining for cats Pt VII - The triple backflip.

 

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