NormRembrandt meets Gauguin meets Warhol
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Homer and Petrarch: opposite (2006)
Tradition(a man in a dressing gown with his penis poking through the hem) holds a long wrinkly thing in the shape of a dead caterpillar, and says that Homer was an appalling drunk who got paralytic whenever his finances permitted, and he was no pauper. Many ladies claimed to be his, but his heart belonged to a pole dancer with one leg and some incredible abilities; such as hopping and doing the can-can despite medical advice. Homer, in a moment of rare insight predicted that scholars would have funny little pipes connected to large barrels, and funnier little tongues connected to funnier littler spines.
Petrarch, or “Slydog Bigboots”, was born a wog and stayed that way even after it was strongly suggested to him that he possessed a disarmingly original odour he liked to call “That Inscrutable Doppelganger” or “Old Homer the Greek”. A shameless groupie and roadie to the popular musical group known as “Pope Clement V”, Slydog had a male parent with vicarious leanings who strongly suggested to the boy, then known as “Brine Breath”, he wax his pubic bone to save the family name, then known as Pootract which after seeing Lauren Bacall smoke lead him to the cleaners with a pile of washing that he discreetly put on high.
Petrarch, or “Slydog Bigboots”, was born a wog and stayed that way even after it was strongly suggested to him that he possessed a disarmingly original odour he liked to call “That Inscrutable Doppelganger” or “Old Homer the Greek”. A shameless groupie and roadie to the popular musical group known as “Pope Clement V”, Slydog had a male parent with vicarious leanings who strongly suggested to the boy, then known as “Brine Breath”, he wax his pubic bone to save the family name, then known as Pootract which after seeing Lauren Bacall smoke lead him to the cleaners with a pile of washing that he discreetly put on high.
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Change Your Disposable Nappies Before Going On Holidays.
A person was walking along a road. This person wondered why he/she was walking at all when she/he had nowhere to go, and nothing to go to. So the person turned around, and began walking back to where he/she had come from. Then she/he realised he/she wasn't living anywhere of note nor doing anything of signifigance before setting out on his/her journey, so there seemed to be no more point in turning around and returning to a known and familiar nothingness, than there was to continuing walking towards a new nothingness. The man or woman, boy or girl, realised he or she had come to a crossroad in his/her life. The most confusing part of this was the fact that the crossroad of life existed on a straight road. One without any sign of an intersection or junction. No traffic lights. And no anger. The road didn't seem cross at all. There were no signs on this road at all. It was just a signless road. The signless road of life with no directions. No maps. The person thought about marriage and getting one's driver's licence. How similar marriage and driving a car was to a signless road. And why people buy cars and get married. Maybe someone into reading roads or a marriage counsellor or someone with a really nice car with air conditioning could have found some direction but this person was not a road reader nor a married postgraduate university student about to do a PhD on how to go about having children. This person was a road traveller. This person had been to school for many years and never heard of a class about reading roads or how to prevent a failed marriage by taking the right road or why some cars use more petrol than others, or why the nozzle on a petrol pump is smaller for unleaded smart cars. This only added to person's confusion. The person thought about running, then remembered the saying of a wise person. "There's no use running if you're on the wrong track." So the person didn't run. The person looked around for a rock and a hard place. Whoever made the road had crushed the rocks beforehand. And the environment was easy on the eye. The only saving grace was liquourice allsorts. Hard-Boiled Lollies and Soft-Centres? Opposites.
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