"HUMAN FLESH IS REALLY SWEET," said the Brazillian tillgirl to the Turkish one (in plain English at my local cornershop, which is such a novelty for round here - believe!) I said: "ugh! human flesh is supposed to taste like pork" - which put the Turkish girl off (not halal, darling) though the Brazilian was licking her lips!!
... such is the bizarre talk at my local shop...
I did see my Mummy yesterday!
Tutankhamun will have to wait till the new year. It is totally booked out. Instead we went to the Tate Britain gallery on Millbank (the one with the Victorian paintings, not the Tate Modern. That is the one with the famous crack in the floor...)
We had a 2-hour dinner in a really posh restaurant. I felt really out of place. Imagine if someone spread diarrhoea on your face and transformed your hair into old flannels. Then gave you a few distinctly visible boils for good measure. Well that's about how comfortable I felt in there. It was the sort of place where meat isn't covered in gravy but a sticky sauce that somehow rolls to geometrical limits on the plate... even the carrots were sticky (but no black bits like the carrots I buy!) The Brussels sprouts had roasted conkers in them (chestnuts if you want to be posh). To be honest I thought they were fried up walnuts but what do I know..?
We went round 2 exhibitions and never once round the main gallery.
Exhibition one was called "Turner Prize - blah years of the bull**** prize and runners up."
(The Turner Prize has nothing at all to do with the great myopic painter Turner except that it is named after him. It is a current prize, awarded every year (usually on Channel 4) since the early 80s...)
Literally nothing impressed us in all innumerable rooms of this.
E.g. a 2x1 metre nugget shaped pan of iron with evaporated seasalt or something on top. Not good.
A man bending over with bum on display at various angles. (About 4 of him.) He was made of iron. I only marvelled that they managed to attach him 20 ft high without bringing the roof down..
A room with a light coming on and off at about 3 degrees of illumination. I vaguely remembered this one from bbc2 circa 2000. The gallery called it "robust". I pointed out to my Mum it was like her flickery old kitchen light when I used to come visiting alternate weekends aged 12. This caused her to laugh her head off - right within the sterility of the gallery! (My interpretation.)
Damien Hurst's formaldehyde cows were in there.
These were the highpoint of the exhibition.
Not just because they're pickled cows.
But because they're in two tanks with a humanly-spaced walkthrough. Then the cow is sheared in half (2 cows, adult for adults and baby for young children)... you can see the spine, guts, kidneys, everything.
I profoundly disagree that this is "not art". It was beautiful. The art of God Almighty. And really fascinating. Far more so than the warped bits of iron on the floors and coloured dots that decorated the rest of this exhibition!
At many points we honestly couldn't tell what was e.g. a pile of leaflets of a "work of art"...
To be quite frank everybody I eyed got tired of this.
Then we went into the David Hockney Turner exhibition. What Hockney the acid-bright oilpainter had to do with Turner the misty watercolourist I have no idea. Except his quotes all over the high walls. My Mum's husband Brian said about 4 times that one particular Turner (one of smugglers rowing to shore off Folkestone coast) meant more to him than the entire bull****ting Turner Prize exhibition!
And outside to cigarettes (for me) and the MI6 building (Britain's counterintelligence bombproof network nervecentre thing) why on EARTH they chose such an ostentatious building for such a cruical part of our intelligence gathering "network" I shall never know.
What I will note was the million pound loking yuppie flats right opposite in repetitious style and colouring (click the above MI6 link to get an idea.) Christmas trees and HD widescreen tellies glinted through the multimillion pound glass making me feel even colder and more streetbound than I actually was...
Itchy escaped 2 nights ago! And to cut a story short I found her within the hour rambling under my giant electric fan. Flashing white belly as she went... Then I threw various towels and teatowels at her yet she still managed to elude them. Then I happened to glance in the robotank (which was just round the corner) only to see a pigchain of three robos gliding into the biggest night tube... I slightly impatiently tipped these out to see that - yes! - miraculously all three hamsters were back home. HOW ON EARTH Itchy who is 2" long max managed to jump a 10" high glass wall I shall never figure out... but that's what seemed to happen..!
Also I cleaned them out thoroughly today. As Evilstein's threatening to henchman round tomorrow morning...
Right I gotta go now...
... and how was YOUR weekend?
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