In Need of a Drink (Diary of a Descent Into Madness and Modern Art)

I’ve bought a colouring book. I hope it’s got join the dots in it, I used to like those as a child.

 

I think I’m beginning to understand this performance, video art malarkey now, its about showing loads of different vaginas, the odd penis (but then all penises seem pretty odd), wearing fetish clothing, inserting things into places they really, really shouldn’t go and bondage.

 

Or is that pornography?

 

Obviously very intellectual whatever it is about. As there are an awful lot of men with hipster beards and constipated expressions, walking around with their hands pushed deep into their pockets.

 

I’m abnormal I obviously don’t think about sex enough.

 

Per-vert. Is it even legal to do that in public?

 

Sigmund Freud was right… you sick twisted puppies

 

Seriously Rosary Beads and Swastikas!! Yeugh, I’ll be having nightmares for weeks.

 

Think Damien Hirst’s Pickled Egg was the sanest thing I’ve seen so far.

 

Now this is better, I like this. No sorry it’s not an exhibit it’s a fire extinguisher.

 

Seriously, a pile of bricks and a couple of pallets. I could have gone to the DIY store for that!

 

Why does Andy Warhol make me think of Popeye the Sailor Man?

Sandcastles, yep I am in a DIY store.

 

Soft furnishings and kitchen utensils now – what fresh hell, I’m in a branch of IKEA.

 

No scrub that; hell IS a branch of IKEA.

 

If I don’t make it out alive can someone feed my cat…

 

Yet more vaginas…

 

(A note found clutched in the hand of a gibbering wreck, who probably only hours before was a reasonably sane adult, but over indulged on modern art and was found slumped in a stairwell at Tate Modern in London earlier today, sobbing uncontrollably and asking to be taken to the nearest hostelry.

So please kids don’t do modern art, like all drugs it can do serious harm to an impressionable mind. Remember if it starts to make sense or you start speaking French ask a responsible adult to take you to the nearest exit tout suite)

Quote from 'High Rise' by JG Ballard. Art ' The Music from the Balconies' by Edward Ruscha. Photo by me!

Quote from ‘High Rise’ by JG Ballard. Art ‘ The Music from the Balconies’ by Edward Ruscha. Photo by me!

© 2016 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

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Healing

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You don’t start to heal until you move on.

November Review

2015

As the year comes puddling wetly towards a conclusion it is time for me to look back on my posts over the last twelve months. As I did the same last year I guess this makes it an annual review.

What I will be doing is picking 30 of my blog posts, one for each day of November to share with you – not necessarily the most popular posts, sometimes just ones I’d forgotten myself and a chance to reconnect with what has been rattling round my brain over the last 365 days.

It is an eclectic collection and hopefully there’s a little something for all tastes.  So keep an eye out for post number one later today.

Living or Dead

photo credit: dummies via photopin (license)

photo credit: dummies via photopin (license)

This author is a work of fiction.
Any resemblance to a functional, grown-up, human being is purely coincidental.

© 2015 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

What a clown!

Until WordPress reminded me I had completely forgotten that it was a year ago today that my blog and I first got together. So I rushed home immediately to thank my blog for an absolutely wonderful year together – but it was too late.

I know I should have remembered without having to be reminded but now my blog won’t speak to me.