It’s Friday, which is the day that, when I can be bothered, I post something that I claim is art, even though it really isn’t.
Even accepting the notion that art is in the eye of the beholder, and that anything can therefore qualify as art, it would be a stretch to claim I’ve actually achieved anything remotely artistic with my ‘Artist’s Corner’ feature.
But today that’s about to change because, ladies and gentlemen of the blogosphere, I give you this masterpiece:
Now you might claim that all I’ve done here is rip the label off a tin of tomatoes and replaced it with a white self adhesive label onto which I’ve written the word worms.
And you’d be right, that is all I’ve done.
It isn’t an actual can of worms and not even a particularly gullible small child would fall for it. Mrs Proclaims was, nonetheless, a tad apprehensive when I opened the above can earlier this week to make a sea food pasta dish. She ate it but she did eye the squid with a little more suspicion than usual.
But it is art nonetheless, because my ‘can of worms’ is representative of all of the metaphorical ‘cans of worms’ being opened at the moment, all over the world (but often by one man in particular…).
When you think about it I’ve been very very clever here.
Probably the most clever of all the artists.
Ok, it’s been a while since I did a ‘James Complains’, so just a reminder that nothing here is to be taken too seriously. There are bigger problems in the world than my relationship with plumbers.
And if you are a plumber reading this, then please be aware that I am very much against the notion of tarring everyone who does a particular job with the same brush.
I’m sure there are some excellent plumbers out there and I’m sure they are professional and courteous and do a fine job to boot.
In fact the plumber that came to my house today could be described as a genuinely lovely bloke.
And he knew his way around the old pipework.
And he left us with working taps in both the kitchen and the bathroom and that is to be commended, for that was not previously the case. Continue reading James Complains About Plumbers
Welcome to another ‘Artist’s Corner’, the regular feature on my blog, which imaginary critics are calling “absolutely pointless” and “the worst thing I’ve ever seen on any blog ever”.
Some pretty hurtful imaginary comments there but regardless I press on with my poor attempts at art.
Normally I’d unveil a fairly rubbish drawing at this point but this week I decided to use the camera bit on my phone to create some ‘concept’ art.
Actually there’ll be a few of these coming up in the next few weeks – I did get a little ‘snap-happy’ once I started.
To begin with though I drew a face on an egg. Hence the ‘egg-based’ puns which featured heavily in the title to this post but have been strangely absent in the post itself.
I expect there’ll be some in the comments though – and yes dear readers that is an invitation to make some egg-based puns in the comments. I’ll be disappointed if there aren’t any now.
Also, if you’re in the mood, you can come up with a name for my little friend.
But not Eggy McEggface.
I think we’re all better than that.
And also it’s probably best to not get too attached – the morning after I took that photo he made a rather delicious omelette.
This is a great poem
With good words
The best words
It’s a great, great poem
And together we’re going to make poetry great again
I can tell you
The press will tell you it’s not a great poem
What do the press know about poetry?
I know about poems
I know about poetry
And this is a very great poem
The best poem
The best of all poems
But I have more words
Words our poetry richly deserves
And I promise you now
That the words I will use
Will be very
They will be the right words
To make the very best poetry
In the history…
To eliminate bad poetry
Because we deserve
And we cannot allow bad poetry
We must take steps
To demolish and destroy
And bad poets
They are the worst
They are losers
And we must eliminate them
And defend our right
To have the poetry
We all deserve
The very best poetry
Poems like this one
Which are very very good
And not at all bad
As some people would have you believe
Those people are wrong
They are liars
This is a great, great poem
The kind of poetry we deserve
All of us
You’d better believe it
And we will make poetry great again
It’s going to be beautiful
I wrote this on a train
It was poetry in motion
The train was running late
Which filled me with emotion
The emotion, though, was joy
For I was late as well
My tardiness well-timed
I didn’t have to dwell
Better still, I got a seat
An unexpected perk
As I headed to my course
And an afternoon off work
I didn’t hold much hope
That my course would not be dull
But at least the journey there
So I took out my pen
And wrote this little ditty
While heading at high-speed
On a train into the city
So this is the second part of the third part of my series of posts on stuff I used to do. It might help to read ‘the first part of the third part’ for this post to make sense. It may, or may not, help to read parts 1 and 2. Then again, it could be quite optimistic to assume that any of this makes sense.
But let’s, for the sake of argument, assume that it does make sense. If you recall, at the end of the last post (part 3a) I’d just moved to Paris (narratively speaking of course, it was some years ago, in October 2002, that I actually moved to Paris) to begin my degree course in French Studies as a mature (but really not that mature at the age of twenty-three) student.
Starting my course wasn’t easy. Nearly everyone else on my course spoke French better than I did, through a combination of having only just finished their A-levels (whereas I hadn’t spoken French in any capacity for two years) or, in some cases, having French parents (which seemed like cheating to me but who am I to judge?).
The standard of accommodation I could get for my money left something to be desired too. I lived in squalor with a nightmare of a flatmate for the first year and in further squalor with a different but equally nightmarish flatmate for the second year. There’s no time to describe either of them in this post, but I’m certain I’ll circle back to them in future posts. Continue reading Stuff I Used To Do But Don’t Do Anymore (Or How I’ve Become A Less Interesting Person Over Time): Part 3b: More mendacities on multilingualism
It was almost daylight
As I drove to work this morning
Almost a reason to be cheerful
And almost optimistic
About the fact that winter
Is almost over
In a few weeks I’ll be waking up to sunshine
To longer days
To vitamin D
But my inner pessimist
Couldn’t help but point out
That I’ll no longer be able
To blame my bad moods
On Seasonal Affective Disorder
And I may have to acknowledge
That I am, in fact, at times
Just a bit grumpy
These days I’m all about paying the mortgage on time, pretending to eat healthily (then sneaking an extra slice of cake when no-one’s looking) and watching endless TV shows and movies, often, but not exclusively, with some kind of comic book/superhero theme.
Maybe there’s more to me than that. Maybe I’m selling myself short. Maybe I’m still a fascinating person to know. But the evidence is, increasingly, pointing to the contrary.
I do have this blog. That’s pretty interesting I suppose. Although I have quite happily blogged about the nuanced flavourings of tinned soup, a car sticker that allows me access to the local recycling facility, and difficulties encountered when ordering a pair of trousers online, so, although this blog probably is one of the most interesting things about me, it’s perhaps overstating things a little to claim that this blog actually qualifies me to call myself an ‘interesting person’.
As it happens I don’t list this blog on my CV.
What I do have on my CV though, is a load of stuff that is patently untrue. Continue reading Stuff I Used To Do But Don’t Do Anymore (Or How I’ve Become A Less Interesting Person Over Time): Part 1 – A Relatively Pointless Preamble
Friday is normally my favourite day of the week, but when it comes at the end of a week when I’ve been off work anyway, it’s less of a good thing.
Fortunately, Friday seems to be becoming the day I post my contribution to the ever growing Moodle Army – brought to you by Haylee from Aloada Bobbins. The entire point of the Moodle Army is to draw doodles that make you happy and I was certainly more upbeat once I’d completed this one.
This week’s challenge was to ‘Draw Your Lucky Charm’
I don’t really have a lucky charm but I pondered the theme nonetheless and my response is this:
Lucky Charms Aren’t ‘Lucky’ For Everyone…
If you read yesterday’s limerick, you might have surmised that I was feeling a little under the weather. Indeed, I have had something of a cold for the last few days. It’s nothing serious, I’m not here to elicit sympathy – it’s just a cold.
I’m certainly not claiming to have had ‘Man Flu’ or anything like that, mainly because ‘Man Flu’ is a made up concept popularised by a media which likes to stereotype character traits based on gender, race, sexuality and any other neat little box they can crowbar people into. I don’t subscribe to the idea that my gender has any particular impact on how badly affected by an illness I am.
So I fully admit that I’ve just got a cold and while I’d definitely rather not have one, I haven’t been making a fuss, I haven’t been trying to get Mrs Proclaims to do stuff for me because I’m too ill. I’ve been pulling my weight, fulfilling my domestic duties and generally getting on with stuff that needs to be done. Continue reading James Has A Sick Day