Ukkint

Irvine Road, Largs. Junction where it meets the Main Street. At/in the old (vacant?) Rowe Sports shop. It is housed in a modern-ish, but somewhat imposing/brutal, brown brick building. The shop front is low and set back from the (narrow) pavement edge with about a metre's overhang above. It seems that here my brother's wife, Jay Gee, is displaying her metal animal sculptures, all of which are freestanding with the exception of two. One of this pair is of a wallaby – I say this, but in my mind it looks like a hare caught at a gallop – and, I think, I'm not supposed to ask, or am I?, why it is the only(?) piece lying down. Is it something (sensitive) to do with a hospital operation?-

Bayzle

https://www.onefm.ch

A puzzling variety of dream (facial) hairstyles. I am looking close up at myself(?), staring straight into my eyes. Static, light sky blue background. I barely resemble myself – part of my puzzlement – my features regular, almost handsome, with slicked back long hair on top and a long, neatly styled (hipster?) beard that continues down out of shot. (Nothing like my close-cropped reality) I return to this silent still a couple of times, the image perplexing me. Again, also looking straight, I have a SIA-esque mushroom hairdo, only it's tatty blonde dyed this time (like Tim Burgess) that completely covers my face and features. My head is smaller in this wide frontal shot, peeking in the bottom of the large frame. Oddly, when I look close up, at a 2/3 angle to the right side of my face, I have tilted my head back, the (same?) hair falling away to reveal a pair of rounded shades and a puzzling sort of smooth beard that seems kind of wet/matted, if it's not actually part of my skin. The top lip especially holds my focus-

Urflugg

Somewhere very like the old Hope Street Studios in Glasgow in the smaller front room. Dee Bee occupies the desk immediately inside the door, then there are one or two desks to his right before they return with a single desk at the window (where Dubya EmmCeeAyy sits). The room is quite dimly lit and has a very 'timber' vibe in my mind. There are lots of small plastic figures aligned in a row on the desks, various collections. The desk(s) next to Dee Bee's have a long line of manga/anime-esque characters. I swear under my breath - "f**k's sake...."- and am suddenly conscious that Dubya's young son is next to me (and has overheard). I am slightly embarrassed. Dubya does not seem to have noticed either. We chat amicably for a bit then I say, "I think I'll just f**k off now....", but again quite quietly under my breath. I'm not sure if this is understood or not and- 

Outside. Bright day. I am with my friend Pee EmmCeeAyy. Approaching a large triangular structure, sitting in water. It starts wide at the bottom then rises, tapering as it does so. It is flat on top however and does not "peak". It is some sort of sloping irrigated structure comprised of row after row of similarly shaped smaller boxes - they each seem to have long, matted grass on their surface and water gently flows over from top to bottom. It has a surrounding greenhouse/clear plastic covering. I negotiate this slowly, puzzling over the means by which it works. Pee EmmCeeAyy prefers to scale it ambitiously, clambering up and down here and there-

We are then - via an opening in the structure - on a small motorboat. I am looking out the front and suddenly realise we are moving out into the water. I am puzzled. Pee is lying completely covered from head to (almost) toe in a grey/blue blanket. His feet are at the controls and I ask him if he did something? He must have triggered the engine by accident with his feet. Taking control I gingerly guide the motor boat back in a loop, avoiding the plethora of other vessels, to the structure. There is a bald black man in a red t-shirt waiting for us. He seems annoyed as I carefully steer the boat into find a spot to moor - he keeps gesticulating and indicating the paintwork on the hull. I think he feels we damaged it when docking, but it looks sort of 'creased' in places to my eyes, nothing more (and certainly nothing to get really that angry about)- 

Then with my friend Cee Cee. We are in some sort of industrial-esque docks/pier area and are looking for the Underground train. I keep hearing/thinking it is down on Level 34. Cee has a football that he throws away, both of us watching as it bounces, jams, then disappears between the prongs of a large loading ramp (over the open water). Racing down an escalator. There is some machine you use to click thru/register your ticket and no matter how hard I try I cannot get it to recognise the one I have. Frustrated, and with Cee urging me to follow him, I run down the escalator to join him- 

Now on a tight, crowded platform. I am worried about not having my ticket stamped and I need the toilet. Cee needs the bathroom too. Do I have time to go back up and get my ticket stamped? It appears that if you are male you can go to the toilet at the rear of the platform, urinating up against the wall. I'd rather not do this. Further along the platform to our right is the ladies bathroom, protected by a sturdy steel door. Cee is not deterred and proceeds to administer a series of relentless kicks (from the knee, stabbing into the door) until it gives. He then enters and continues to do the same with the next obstructive door. Two tall, skinny black guys with beards and dreads and vest tops are mightily impressed at this feat of strength, exchanging approving glances. I am also impressed - I doubt I would have been able to achieve this feat of sheer strength. I think to myself, as Cee is peeing, I will have time to run back up and sort my ticket before the train comes. It's a very close thing and I struggle to spot him in the crowd when I return. Eventually I spy him emerging from the Ladies and joining the throng just as the train pulls in- 

Some female member of staff that Cee knows (but cannot altogether be bothered with). She is also trying to direct us to Level 34(?). She keeps following us and, a little frustrated, correct our route - we're not really paying much attention to her directions (as Cee seems confident he knows the way too)-

Sitting inside a boat. We're in a small lounge with a cheap carpeted floor, basic perimeter box seating and surrounding window. An woman with glasses and her son sits across from us. She is in her early forties, the boy maybe aged about 9 or 10. She seems to quite like me, persevering against the fact that Cee clearly cannot be bothered). We are listening to a Chemical Brothers music CD. The last 2 tracks, however, it is actually me playing. The final track begins with a cacophony of blaring sounds. This last for a few minutes then it drops away to a gentle guitar strum over which I sing (in hushed tones), "It's only water. Take a sip." The woman across from us likes it. I find myself wishing the second(?) CD was there so we could hear more of my music-

Massagma

In a large school-like assembly hall. I am there, as are both my brothers and my friend Enn Bee and his wife Eev Bee. It seems everyone has been allocated somewhere to sit aside from myself. The stage/presentation area is to the front and is about 4 metres wide and curtained off to about 2 metres above the floor level, screening it from the seated. My brothers have a seat each in the rows nearer to it. They are arguing and I recall one skidding a pen along the floor in disgust to the other. I end up taking a seat in the row next to Enn Bee, though I am aware my little brother is not present in the row in front, and hope that everyone will just shift over a little in order to squeeze me in-

Now at a different awards ceremony. It feels like it has Oscar prestige and press attention, but the setting is much lower-key, the hall smaller and more intimate. Bam Margera (from Jackass) is on stage accepting an award. He is peppering his acceptance speech with swearing, much to everyone's collective (but somewhat anticipated) dismay. At one point he is talking back and forth with his mother in the audience – she's a kind of blonde, biker mom – and she shocks all by swearing in return-

Now outside, looking at a wide shot of a back alley. A plain concrete surface – on a slight incline? - meets a similarly plain concrete wall on the left. Against this wall is a large commercial rubbish bin. Surrounding this, occupying about half of the viewpoint, is a huge pile of... Is it pizzas, discarded following the awards afterparty, or a giant mound of sick? All I can clearly ascertain is this great yellowy-burnt-browny heap with a sort of fatty separated liquid pooling at its perimeter. I think there's someone lying on top of the heap by the bin. This scene elicits a collective “UGH!” from the invisible onlookers. Bam approaches from the right and attempts to scale this mound and suddenly, when he's about half way across, he simply disappears, swallowed beneath the surface of this mush. He eventually wrestles himself from the mush at the edge and staggers, coughing and sputtering, from the hold of the “matter”. It's as if the watching collective has drawn breath, waiting to see if he'll be sick, which will then determine the outcome of their own ultimate reaction-