Saturday 23 February 2019

Kurpletin


Monkey-like people made of metal. All sort of ribs and bones. Loads of them all running about. Something which involved putting your clothes on small wire constructed stools with cloth seats. From this it could be determined if you were a straight or gay. Some blonde girl off of the television (judged to be a lesbian) and Ell also. Lots of flowery shirts and skirts and stuff to show-

Tuesday 19 February 2019

Binntlet


A small Verne Troyer-alike guy on a huge motorbike sits on the lawn in my parent's front garden. There is another biker present. He revs the bike hard, spinning up the earth, grinning from beneath his shades. I batter him viciously on the top of his head with a massive chunk of hardened catarrh-

Sunday 17 February 2019

Plustle


Back at Largs Academy. On the stairwell between floors in the old(er) building. Looking from the landing heading upstairs can I see my adult friend Ayy Arr, actor Ian McShane and a lady talking together. I seem to feel they are talking about me - I have an imprint that previously I was following them upstairs while they discussed, but did not notice, me. I deliberately slow down on the stairs in the hope they catch me up and they do. I am then walking with them, Ian McShane looming tall and large in my field of vision-

I go up to the school's art department, clutching a huge floppy book (to do with art, my career?) uncomfortably under my arm, and seem very keen to talk to the teachers. The area is crowded with classes and canvasses and the teachers, until I can get close enough, look very similar to those I had when I was in Secondary School. I approach each of them in turn, first and older man then a much older woman, then shy away, realising it's 20-25 years since I attended and these people are not the same. I end up being approached, and talking to, a young woman, voicing my confusion about who is there and why I am there-

Tuesday 12 February 2019

Duppulke


Arr Vee had grassed up Bee EmmCeeEff for something at school. Bee then wrote “f**k you, you f**king f**k” in plasticine on Arr's front doorstep. Trying to figure out how he did it without getting caught. Did he press the letters in? Did he use letter or word stamps? Did he make the letters separately and press them down as needed?-

Friday 8 February 2019

Mivvdum


Leaving a hospital and outside the exit are two men, one black, one white, dressed in smart, shiny grey suits. The black chap, bald head, complete with shades, gets on a motorbike. My friend Enn Bee and I get on a bus, where I sit on my own behind the very same black guy (?). He has dropped a card that I pick up. It says "to Dad, happy birthday!" inside. I think does this make him the father, or is it to his father? I slip the card into the gap between the seats. When the bus stops I get up and follow him off. He is now a large white woman, with a sturdy man-ish build. I offer her/him the card. Eventually, after some prompting, he takes it from me. In the meantime my own ticket has blown out of my hand and fluttered under the bus. I start to call him a bastard for this. I ask Enn Bee if I need my ticket to further our journey and he says yes. Thankfully it has blown out a little from under the bus, allowing me to collect it. Enn starts to run, setting off to catch the next bus-

We are in London, running through a vast array of gap-sites, the ground covered in red stones. Enn is ahead, but soon slows up considerably, his smoker's lungs getting the better of him. I'm now running very fast, followed closely by two girls who sing John Phillips' 'Holland Tunnel', particularly the "you know the lollipop you suckin" line, in a sort of confused unison with me-

Friday 1 February 2019

Twiddin


In a large, bright and airy dormitory kind of space, with old fashioned windows high on the left hand wall. It's almost like a wing, and there is music booming from the next portion, which is at an angle to where I am. I am sure Eff Tee and a friend are playing this music but cannot see them as where the wing turns at a slight angle there is a wall (to their room?). I am talking to a woman about this. The few people here feel like they are from my primary school class, but they feel grown up in the way that they have adult minds, but visually their age is hard to define. I have a bunch of pound coins in a stack held between my finger and thumb. Someone is trying to give me a few more coins, saying that I had dropped all of them and failed to pick these up at the time. We argue in a friendly manner that the extra coins are not mine. Gee Emm is driving us back from somewhere. We are in a classic styled American car with a green paintjob. Gee almost drives straight into a wall as the parking garage has recently been remodelled. Previously you could go straight ahead, but now you have to turn right where there are two parking bays (in turn separated by a wall). Gee pulls into the first bay, capable of holding about 10 cars, and, to my surprise, parks carelessly. I see a close up as he scrapes the car off of two scooters, damaging their paintwork. I am concerned at his lack of skill, knowing he is a pilot- 


I am called away from whatever it is I am doing - I am somewhere on a crowded stairwell taking a call on an old 2004 Nokia mobile - and join the writer, director and designer from Electric Man on the set of their film about baseball, Stealing Second. Dee Bee, Ess Bee and Ess EmmSee are standing in front of a glazed door that has a lot of fine timber beading running horizontally at 50cm or so intervals to create a decorative pattern. Somehow at the top the beading means there is no room for a traditional timber frame (of, say, 8cm or so) and the whole thing looks wrong visually. They cannot work this out and ask me for advice. There are two makeshift timber shelves in front of the door, with pots of varnish and such on them, and as I move them out the way to get a better view they seem to comically crash down on the writer's head - on the second occasion a hammer hits him. This seems to alternate between an extreme close up inspecting the timber beading and a wider shot to watch the slapstick from behind. I feel so close to solving the puzzle- 


I am then sitting with Shaun Ryder. He is wearing shades and I am a little surprised at how big his head is. It seems unnaturally large. When he opens his mouth he has a chain running from either side with a plate in the middle running across his bottom set of teeth. This plate has some writing embossed on it, like a far sturdier GI dog tag, or indeed a bracelet. He removes this? I notice that he seems to have lots of lower teeth, enough so that every three teeth or so there is a section - equivalent to about three molars - that has been infilled with a solid, coloured light. These look like traditional nightlights, a purple or green hued section of frosted plastic. I sit, fascinated by this large display of teeth and glowing lights-