Saturday, 29 May 2010
Thursday, 27 May 2010
diligent delegation like a Radio Times schedule.
We're chewing pen lids instead of strawberry laces
and getting ink all over our hands.
Wrist width wrinkle of blue skyed sunlight between blinds
lends to internal laments
that it's been long since we lost a day riverside
with a shopping trolley for our transport,
80p of pocket money and a flask of strong ribena rucksacked.
Two finger salute to the flock flying south;
we'll pass a fallen sparrow for Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday
and flip it with a stick before the weekend.
(If Sunday night's dinner is spaghetti, you'll pale. )
I didn't listen to a word you just said
but I'm nodding.
Let's put away your breasts,
there's too much trying wedged into that cleft.
Let our desks dust
and we'll ride our bikes til our bodies brown.
Wednesday, 26 May 2010
Alas it's $1800. Boy will have to continue to fret each morning that I'm gonna come home a mangled mess of head injury and scraped knee. (I reckon I'll make it.)
Jeez, imagine if this was my last post.
We used Bakerella's Snickerdoodle Duo recipe, because it's my favourite source of bakery inspiration right now. Cinnamon cupcakes, cinnamon cookie topping, meringue icing. We baked out cookies larger to resemble hats rather than stacks.
Remember: novelty first, kids.
Whilst waiting for the icing to set, Bradders did some marking.
Question: Describe a man.
Answer: "Just bust out of a mental asylum. Dancing like there's no tomorrow. Hair looks like he's been electrocuted. Having the time of his life."
We laughed til we cried, then dived gob-first into the wizard cupcake tribe. Watched the 'Hush' episode of Buffy The Vampire Slayer so she wouldn't feel quite so alone in her voicelessness.
She left my house terrified.
Monday, 24 May 2010
This is the stuff I will remember most.
Ernie Paniccioli opening the Screenadelica Exhibition was also something I'm glad not to have missed. It's nice to hear people truly believe art can be the seed of one hell of a fuck-off fruit.
Tuesday, 18 May 2010
I'd been reading Vile Bodies by Evelyn Waugh on the way down south. 'Each of the angels carried her wings in a little black box like a violin case' in the first chapter hung tightly onto the coat tails of my imagination everytime a musician pranced past. I missed a lot of the bands due to having too good a time with the boyfriend round the corner (accidentally convenient placing of our separately booked chalets being high five worthy, most certainly). But Pavement were swell and I wish Monotonix's set hadn't been cut short, real short. I was kinda enjoying sitting cross-legged on the floor due to overzealous security measures. It felt like assembly just got good.
The following weapon has been deployed today to help me re-enter a world where I am living.
Tuesday, 11 May 2010
Monday, 10 May 2010
I remembered this weekend an exhibition I'd stumbled across (Polish friend of my Grandfather's en tow) on a visit to the Science Museum in London a few years back. It encouraged kids to think how their lives would change if energy became a more prized commodity, tykes having to produce their own hydrogen in exchange for pocket money and poo needing to be brought home from school for the compost heap.
I also got a valuable insight yesterday into teenage imaginings of World War One. A creative literature piece my friend was marking ended with: