Knickerbockergloriagone!

14th January Knickerbockergloria our GoGoDragon arrived from our sponsors Don and Carole of Bluebird Care, Norwich at our backdoor; five Impossimal launches, four new sculptures, three appearances, two signings and one commission slowed down our progress but today, two and a half months later Knickebockergloria left her temporary home for pastures new on the streets of Norwich.

Here's her story...

 When our dragon arrived she had to be manhandled into the conservatory, the studio was far too small to tackle such a project so she became a fixture, one that we saw everyday.

An oil sketch was produced of our initial design, always tricky at this stage as working in 3D never runs as smooth as it's planned.

 The first job though was an all over paint job for a base coat, we mixed this from standard dulux paint with acrylic tints to get just the right ice blue we needed, it took three coats and 2.5 litres to cover her before we could begin.

 It's about this stage you realise how mammoth the task is, painting and creating a six foot dragon is no mean feat and moving her around just as tricky. So after our experience with the London Elephant Parade we found an ideal way using plastic sheets and blocks of wood we could tilt her in most directions to make it easier to work on.

 By the end of the first week we had done quite well.

Then work started pouring in; commissions, unexpected opportunities, the cartoon series and personal appearances and launches effectively wiped out most of February for us and Knickerbockergloria started to look accusing at us most days as we passed by on the way to the studio with our heads hung low.

 Come March and we were back, the view of the heart had been constructed allowing me to see both sides of Knickerbockergloria's ice laden insides which happen to include some favourite ice lollies. The mini sculpture took two days to create and paint and a further five days to paint on her sides.

Jayne had been busy too and completed the five hundred ceramic snowflake designs for the wings, all that we needed to do now was attach them then seal them in place, another three days work.

Finally as we nearly reached the end we added invisible NFC tags to the sides and programmed them with information from Knickerbockergloria, simply tap your NFC enabled phone at these points to read them when you meet her.

 Mid March and she's free! Ready to go to the garage for a few days whilst she gets her coat sprayed with glitter!

 Today we said our goodbyes for now and watched her depart in her silver coach (white van) soon to arrive at her new home in Norwich and eventually she will be looking for a permanent home when she goes up for auction later this year.

If you want to visit Knickerbockergloria then watch this space as we will be publishing details of just when and where she will be through the Summer months. Send us your photos if you see her and we will include you on a special Knickerbockergloria special in our Autumn/Winter magazine later in the year.

Bye Knickerbockergloria, see you soon!

Guest

Yay! Our guest blogger today famous author  Alan 'Key' Bennett, with his glorious monologues about life and his mother,  take it away Alan!

It was not a particularly adventurous order - two slices of wholemeal, browned but not burnt, two butters and no jam delivered with the lack lustre flair and grace of an aged stripper from a bored girl with black hair but it suited the surroundings, a department store of no repute, perfectly. Optimistically called Zest, the restaurant, if one could call a self service cafeteria a respectable establishment, remained empty.

The two slices, uncut and a little burnt around the edges, looked disappointed. I turned them over to check both sides and fumbled with the small packets of melted butter from my plastic chair. The knife was dirty and a thin film of grease covered the once clean table. I ran my finger across the the cheap finish, noting with some distress that it felt gritty with the dirt of others, the dirt of life my mother might say. 

She said things like that you see, my mother.

Opposite a grey haired gentleman had a similar problem. his toast was also burnt and he used the back edge of his knife to trim away the black. His face hinted at unhealthy thoughts as he hacked away harder, pausing only to cough up a years worth of flem.

Stop, stop it right there Alan! I know you're a top writing chap and all that but hey, lighten up a little, this is a happy blog, use happy words!

It was a marginally happy order - two slices of wholemeal, averagely toasted, two butters, sans jam delivered with a flair and grace of a bored but smiley stripper from a girl with dark hair but it suited the surroundings, a light and airy department store, perfectly. Called Zest, the restaurant, a self service cafeteria was a respectable establishment but remained delightfully empty.

I however felt dismal in such surroundings and I noticed with alarm the salt pot was half empty and the previous diners had left crumbs in the sugar. The dirty, grotty people tainted with the colour of life as my mother might say.

She was a miserable sod, my mother.

FFS Alan, keep it upbeat! One last try, think positive, positive, positive!

I was happy, hap...hap...happity and it was with delight I ordered perfectly toasted toast that arrived delicately delivered with lashings of butter, no jam as requested at the Zesty, Zest, Zest restaurant that was so delicately decorated they had even sprinkled crumbs in the sugar for me to nibble on.

That's it keep it up!

The crumbs...

In the sugar...

No Alan! Don't go there! Think frolicking lambs, think puppies! Forget about the sugar Alan!

Sugared crumbs...

From dirty people...

Vile dirty crumb laden people with sausage fingers and big flappy lips licking at dribbling butter running down their wrists and elbows eventually forming a pool of grease in their massive bellybuttons. Filthy, filthy grot laden...

Alan!!!!

Pardon?

Are you even listening?

Yes

Then be positive!

It was positively vile, I rue the day I ever entered. The sauce in those brown sticky bottles should have been a warning sign it was for common people, or as my mother used to say, for the great unwashed of the world.

Alan! That's terrible! You're banned from the blog for life, you can't be rude like that!

Sorry about that, Alan can be kind of difficult. Instead here is one of Alan's delightful little poems from a few years ago to see us out.

Mary had a slice of ham,

She also had some bacon,

Harry was the little pig,

Who's life Mary had taken.

Mary loved ham but hated Harry, he often left crumbs in sugar bowls and as his mother always used to say, dirty deeds bring dirty deeds and Harry had been very dirty indeed.

A.K.Bennett

Holy Underpants, Show Me Your Bristols

Holy Cornflakes Batman, are they serious? Is Peter and Jayne really appearing at Castle Galleries, Cribbs Causeway in Bristol tomorrow?

I'm afraid so Robin, the tragic twosome will be there between 2-5pm.

Holy hankies, what are you going to do? I thought the Penguin and the Joker were the worst thing to happen and now we have this, two artholes cavorting around in a gallery. Is there anything we can do to save Bristol?

I'm afraid not Robin, unless...

What is it Batman?

Unless...

And? Holy buttholes Batman, tell me!

KAPOW! Shut up Robin.

OWW! What was that for Batman?

Being a dick. There's only one thing for it Robin, I must dress up as a woman.

Again? Don't you remember last time?

I do Robin and I felt great! Pass me that suspender belt and lipstick, I'm going to gatecrash Peter and Jayne's appearance at Castle Galleries, Cribbs Causeway in Bristol between 2-5pm tomorrow Saturday the 28th March. They won't suspect a thing.

Do I need the rubber suit again Batman?

You do Robin, this time don't forget the talc and the ball gag, we don't want you squeaking all over the place. To the cross dressing fab mobile!

Holy lavender tea, this is going to be sweet!

If you would like to join Batman and Robin as well as meet Peter and Jayne they get yourself to Castle Galleries, Cribbs Causeway in Bristol between 2-5pm tomorrow Saturday the 28th March for fun, frolics, stories, dedications and cross dressing superheroes.

N.B. Superhero cross dressing event subject to change, not all superheroes are available to cover every appearance and some may even be in disguise.

STOP PRESS - The invisible man will be there!

 

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

Whistling Aceholes

'Are You Bloody Whistling?' Unknown Artist, 1534

Welcome to the Party For Non Whistlers and our latest manifesto for this years general election. If we are elected we pledge to:

Ban whistling from all public areas, furthermore anybody caught whistling 'O'Danny Boy' or other yesteryear easy listening classics will face an on the spot fine of £100

Whistling on public transport will render the whistler liable to be forcably ejected from said service.

Tuneless whistling will be considered a major offence and will carry a jail term no shorter than two years. Whistlers will be confined to their sound proofed cells and forced to whistle 'Dancing Queen' for twenty three hours each day until they are cured of their whistling affliction.

Phantom whistling, or whistling in a crowd to hide identity will not be tolerated. All citizens will carry an anti whistling stick (a small leather truncheon) as a deterrent. Should the whistler be identified all passersby must comply with the required beating until the whistler promises never to whistle again.

Humming is also outlawed, as uncontrolled it leads to whistling.

And so on...

Why whistling? Well, yesterday I had to endure a tuneless version of the Laurel & Hardy theme that almost drove me to violence. There's nothing worse than a high pitched noise that rambles staggeringly over so many incorrect notes and is punctuated by humming when the tune gets too high for the whistler. I mean this was serious whistling torture, what on earth does whistling offer the whistler? Comfort? Enjoyment? That's two words that sit uncomfortably with the notion of whistling, the idea of pushing air through lips shaped like you are sucking a pencil brings an uncontrollable urge out in me, it's like the rage that creates the Hulk. If you want to whistle at me try doing it over there, approximately fifty miles away in the general direction of flick off.

Really.

Whilst we are at it another thing I find annoying is at the checkout when the shop assistant insists on chatting to the person behind them as if you wasn't even there about something other than work. So you can imagine how amused I was listening to who this young lady had pulled the night before and just what antics they got up to as I bought three bath sponges the other day. She was that much in the moment that she hardly turned around and dropped the sponges twice, pressed the wrong button on the checkout and laughed so loudly that she also burped (she made sure she was facing me for that). The other assistant didn't help, she laughed like a surprised hyena, doubly so at the burp, in fact she laughed so much I thought she was going to collapse as tears streamed down her face.

I toyed with the notion of making her collapse for different reasons, I went in for bathroom products not to be covered in a fetid clingy breath that smelt of boiled eggs and to endure dirty gossip. Walking outside I noticed with dismay whistling coming from across the road and promptly crossed to hit them with my anti whistling stick.

So vote for the Party For Non Whistlers and let's stop this tuneless menace on our streets, alternatively vote for Say No To Checkout Gossip Belching and banish this uncouth behaviour once and for all.

You know it makes sense!

 

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

Fancy A Biscuit? Join Our Club

Wondering what to do on these long dark nights? Why not join a club, there's loads to choose from, here's some of the best in your area.

 

If like us you love a good blow then join us every Monday night at Fluffers the ONLY place where fellow fluff collectors can air out their fluff and dust collections in friendly surroundings. Newbies welcome, we have courses running to help you blow better dust from behind cabinets, tops of door frames and even from under the bed and every third Monday of the month we hold our Dust or Dirt? competition with prizes ranging from bendy straws to blow in awkward places to leaf blowers for suck-blow experts. Kids can also join our junior dust club and learn the joys of lint, hair and crumb collecting absolutely free.

Joining requirements - £1.23 per person, members must carry at least twenty pieces of fluff at all times and adhere to our rules regarding fluff and dust identification. See rule number 1526.25 pt 2 Volume 4 for fluff clarification and acceptable collection methods.

 

What could be better than sharing the long nights with a new companion EVERY month? One that will show you unconditional love, not talk back or argue and never HOG the bed. You need Pig-Post(Tm) in your life where for a small fee we will send you lovingly wrapped each month a brand new pigpanion. Simply fill in your pig partner preference and our computers will do the rest and find your perfect piggy-panion. Want a noisy eater? no problem, our Linconshire Old Spot will fit the bill, need a bit more muscle, again, no problem, we'll send you a Tamworth in no time. Any colour, any age Pig-Post puts pigs in packets to post with our unique sty to door delivery service. From runts with grunts to probing porkers we have it covered.

Join today and take our Perfect Pigpanion test, only £99 per month. N.B. pigs are non refundable, we will send you a new pig every month under plain wrapper, to avoid embarrassment Pig-Post will not show on your credit card statement and will instead be displayed as Porking4Pervs.co.uk

 

Does life drive you nuts, it does us at Bonkers we inflate daffodils and trump down chimneys to bring you the best in Bonkers services. We offer a completely off the wall range of pastimes to fend off boredom and mundanity of real life. Join us on our cushion hunts on Snowdonia using real bananas, ski down our Birds custard slope naked with sausages strapped to your feet or take advantage of our weekly special and receive a lifetimes supply of alarm clocks strapped to cats.

2nd November - Bungee jumping in the bath

3rd November - Scuba diving in public toilets

4th November - Elephant juggling

Unfortunately we have had to cancel further events detailing the popular Strain And Drop after Arthur Donkeypoker filled a French letter with water and dropped it from a height of 75 feet into the toilet bowl at his local pub in an attempt to impress a member of the public in the next cubicle that he had done a 'Giraffe'. As Arthur grunted and let go he also slipped and followed it down, the resulting double splasher rapport burst the eardrums of the cubicles occupant who staggered out, trousers around the ankles only to find Arthur upside down in the urinals.

Price - Ace, ten, jack, Queen, King.

 

Join us on our latest collecting expedition as we scramble to the top of bus shelters and disused garages to retrieve those precious 'lefties'; discarded shoes, which we clean, feed and rehome in our extensive network of shoe fosterers until their rightful owners come to claim them. Have you lost a shoe? If so visit wwww.wheresmyshoe.co.uk and browse our shoe files or use the online identification chart. Register a bus stop to see the list of shoes found or simply browse our collection of success stories. Coming soon, www.shoesreunited.co.uk, find old shoes from your childhood, school shoes and shoes that have moved abroad.

Not lost a shoe? Not to worry, we now offer a comb finding service too at www.combhunters.co.uk

Coming 2014 - wwww.loosechange.co.uk

Joining fee - £1.05 per shoe search, comb searches carry a 10p surcharge.

Weekender

The eclipse was a total let down, we experienced what could be only described as a dull day as opposed to the 'plunged into darkness with no birdsong' type of thing we expected but it wasn't the end of the world as predicted so yesterday we both made a return to The Original Art Shop, Trentham for an appearance after an absence of over a year and what a great day it was too on such a fine and sunny day.

Plenty of collectors came along to chat, get dedications and see some rare oil sketches along with all the latest releases making for an enjoyable four hours. Although we have now done nearly 250 of these events they always seem to feel fresh and new with collectors coming from far and wide many of which we now class as friends.

It's a short blog today as our workloads are pretty stuffed at the moment. Knickerbockergloria our Lost Impossimal ice dragon is now complete and awaiting collection to take her place alongside many other dragons in Norwich as part of the GoGoDragons event later this year. The latest magazine Mission Impossimal is getting it's final tweaks along with a few new website items and more work on the Impossimal animation series.

Painting rears it's head again at the end of the week when we launch into our October collection and finally to top this week of hectic busyness we will be appearing at Castle Galleries, Bristol on Saturday 28th March between 2-5pm.

As usual, all are welcome to what promises to be another busy day and one of the last events for a while so pop along and say hello if you are in the area we would both love to see you.

Randomness will return tomorrow, quite possibly with a tale regarding the rudest sales person ever we recently encountered...

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