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-

Yapple

In the back garden of my childhood/teenage home in Largs. I am with several other people who I can sense but not identify (due to the stress of the situation). There is a white space rocket idling over the garden. It has 4 teardrop like marks on the front towards a point, a long fuselage that culminates in its 4 engines or boosters. There's a solid band around this part too. The rocket consistently hovers then crashes in the garden. The crashes are violent and very close to us. It seems to make a recovery then just as suddenly crash again, sending us dashing for cover. Eventually it lies wrecked on the garden chuckies. I take it upon myself – I am scared and frustrated – to (somehow) grab the nose of the rocket and smash it off the kitchen outside wall. There's a feeling I will smash it down to its component parts and then give the pilot a lecture on his lack of skills. In this process the nose seems to shrink and change material – at first it resembles fibreglass but eventually, as I repeatedly batter it off the wall, it is more and more like a stiff sackcloth of triangular material. I continue to flap hopelessly at this until it dawns on me that there is no pilot at all-

Cententee

I am with my little brother and my friend Bee Tee. The weather is bright and sunny and we are in a grassy area, kicking about near a distinct, worn vehicle track. A strange, small, bubble covered sort of creature trots past at one point, emerging from the long grass onto the path. It's a little like a lamb, but with a much longer neck and no discernible head - it just simply rounds off at the end. It's primarily blue in colour with flecks of red. The next time I see a similar creature it is physically the same only it has the fur and colouring of a tiger. Its face is much more cute, the round, innocent eyes almost on the top of the head/neck. I ask my brother and Bee if they want another drink - has Bee Tee just drunk a tiger animal? - and I am asked for a lemonade and to "get us another one of those (tiger animal drinks)"-

I'm now on a beach and looking up high towards a shore structure with railings. People are milling about there. I sense a girl there looking down, watching me. It's a vague, indistinct sensation. I struggle to remember what my brother asked for to drink. I am walkig up on the promenade/street level, the beach far below. I recall going into a few counter/cafe places to be told by the staff they have no scones and jam - I think the hot weather and crowds means they have all sold out. One particular counter is staffed by the actor David Tennant and he makes a (sore) point of clearly articulating they have no scones and jam-

In a queue at a counter. The guy ahead of me is paying for his order. I see a tiger animal trotting about the floor behind - good as I know I can buy them here. There's a family of four behind me - a mother, father and two early teen boys - and I am sure they are after scones, but have not heard the announcement. One of the sons tries to queue-jump and I forcibly pull him back into line. Somehow at this point a bald guy infiltrates the front of the queue and manages to get the £5.05 change due to the other guy. I cannot accept this blatant theft and, with my fingers pointing, I tap both the customer and the thief on the top of their respective bald heads - the customer had hair when ordering - and voice my displeasure and say he did it. Does the cafe owner have a £3 million Lottery ticket...?-

I decide to walk back to the beach by another route. At the start of this stands the girl who I was watching from the beach. She is standing by the railings with another guy. She is again looking at me. She seems quite fixed in my mind but I still skip by quickly, aware but wary and without really registering her (familiar) face. I follow two old ladies down a sloped walkway with a built up wall to the sea side. Everything here is covered in a browny stone render. About half way down this walkway it takes a sharp turn to the right only about 3-4 metres is missing. There's no way to continue. I look down at the blue water. You can see the bottom and I think about the frightening possibility of a Great White Shark swimming there. I follow the old ladies back up to the street. Somehow the walkway has changed - it's almost a single brick wide with a single brick upstand at points - and the journey is fraught with danger. The old ladies, one of whom has a walking stick, struggle to cope-

John Cena has a post on Facebook with 23,000 likes. He needs 2 million people to log in and all scream at once. This is for the websites www.data. com(?) and www.deletemusic. com(?)-

Orotos

https://www.essexlive.news

Go into a music retail shop. It's an old company, like Our Price or something. The shop itself feels very like the 'Martins' newsagent that used to be on Largs Main Street – creamy painted timber with large windows and glazed entry doors in the centre. Myself, Kay Emm, Enn Bee and his wife Eee Bee go in. My friend Emm Enn and two others are working there. One of them is an older woman, the other is definitely present, but peripheral. To the left is the shop counter and directly ahead and to the right are racks of CDs. I'm really surprised there are no DVDs for sale. I mention this to Emm Enn and he says it's been like that for a while. The shop is just closing and the lady staff member bolts the top of the double doors to stop anyone else from entering. I enthusiastically make some joke about it being a lock-in. We go over to the right to browse the racks of cheap CDs for sale. They all have circular white stickers with a red border and a black, handwritten-esque font stating either £2 or £3. The albums that catch my eye have plain white covers with a single inset photo, stylistically reminiscent of St. Etienne's 'Foxbase Alpha' album cover in many ways-

To the right of this rack, towards the window there seems to be a stack of My Neighbour Totoro merchandise. I'm not quite sure what it is – I think it's a soundtrack cd bundle, but on closer inspection it looks like some sort of plastic margarine tub with images printed on the side. I don't know what's in it – all I know is the price is a shocking £153! I'm stunned and recoil. Atop this construct there are several sets of Totoro vinyl figures, one of which seems to be obscured or refracted through a tiny hole – you have to squint your eyes and look carefully, moving your head from side to side to try and view them in a row. Enn Bee is keen to see them down. I look at some other random vinyl figures, noting that one of a guy standing is only £10-

There is another person present in the shop now and he asks the lady staff member – who is at this point is definitely the actress Sally Hawkins – if he can see something...? She is quite shy and awkward when dealing with him/us. I am over by the counter with her and pick up a black plastic rectangular object. I am puzzled, turning it over in my hands whereupon I realise it is a small PC monitor. It's warm as I think Sally has just disconnected it for the other customer. There's another monitor sitting to my right too. Kay Emm is now (transported) outside, visible through the shop window. Noticing that Enn Bee is still interested in the figures I indicate to her by making the peace sign that we'll be two minutes. I motion with with both my hands for her to sit down-