Tag Archives: southbank centre


Sometimes a blog or a day starts out as one thing but turns into another.

So naturally there was a meetup. Knitting. Noone home.

So clearly then there was a cafe and some irritatedness.

So then there was a museum (Cuming… Not, disappointingly about the scottish sometime gay star of 90s BBC xmas flick and Heinink staple 'Bernard and the Genie.')

Worth a look. Old shit. Dickens. Hes everywhere. Like Trinidad and Korea. Free.

But dont go to south london on purpose.

So then there was a gallery. Peter Blake at the Fine Art Society. Good to have a curator for art or life. He knows his onions. Nice to have fine art and modern art together. Great. Free.

He's a bit everywhere too. He's 80 or something.

Yes, there were boobs.

So then an evening activity. Or the first one.

We wanted to go on about 'Laughter Yoga' again.

About the importance of play and how the Southbank looks like a grownups playground with wheels, fairs, arts, bright colours and…talking wooden boxes.

But then we saw a film. 'The Imposter.'

Which twisted and turned all over the place.

Like a day. Like a relationship.

It was short too. We like short.



Theres someone sodcasting #onthistrain. Sub human scum.


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Existential angst


 I have been in a bit of a low recently to say the least but as I booked my ticket last week I dragged my paws to @Davidshrigley’s  new exhibition at the @HaywardGallery, bouyed on by a review in @timeoutlondon citing existential angst to match my own.

Also, like your blogger, Shrigley-apparently-exists at “the crossroads of art, futility and absurdity” so I was more than a little curious to have a sniff around.

Plus the posters got a dog on it.

So… Did it live up to expectations? Yes and no…

Yes… there was a dog. Yes… there was stick men fucking. Yes… there was a massive cup of cold tea.

No… there wasn’t much colouring in, no… they didn’t let daddy take illicit copyrighted images for his Staffordshire Bull Terrier’s blog, no… There were no poo bins… Let’s hope they mistake it for art.



He’s got no balls like me I notice… Discover more…

 Shrigley at the Hayward Gallery

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