STOPPING THE EVIL ALIEN MIND-CONTROL RAYS
By Two Legs Good
JINGS! CRIVVENS! SCOTS LIB DEMS NAME NEW LEADER
By Two Legs Good
After the disastrous results at the recent elections and the resignation of their leader, Tavish Scott, the Scottish Liberal Democrats have a new leader. The UK is, obviously, reeling at this momentous change.
It's heartening to see they've picked such a popular and recognisable Scot this time:
We say 'pick', but of course there was no real choice - he was only person that had submitted his name! Obviously the very thought of running against Wullie Rennie had terrified the other possible candidates. After all, who'd want to go up against a runner-up of the Scottish Coal-Carrying Championships? That's some heavyweight political ju-ju right there!
Oor Wullie might not even be allowed the automatic right to ask questions at First Meenister's Questions - they may have to take it in turns with Patrick Harvie, representing the Greens, and Big Hen, representing the Broons.
It's also being reported that the Scots Lib Dems have so few seats they've been relegated to sitting outside the back door of the parliament on upturned buckets.
Oor Wullie? More like Poor Wullie!
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A NICE BIT OF STONE-CLADDING ©™ - Part 9
By Two Legs Good

But, as we said at the start, people are strange, and people who stone-clad are stranger than most. They can't help it. And, as we said, no matter how they try to hide it - in this case with a pretty decent coat of paint - out it pops.
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HAGUE IN FAVOUR OF AV?
By Two Legs Good
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THE PRICE OF DEMOCRACY
By Two Legs Good
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A NICE BIT OF STONE-CLADDING ©™ - Part 8
By Two Legs Good

So yes... stone-cladding AND wood-cladding on the one house. Actually, we're not sure that's really what it is - it looks more like a bizarre mix of crazy-paving and painted floorboards. (And just what is going on with that garden wall?)
As Paul McCartney and Stevie Wonder never sang:
"Wood-cladding and stone-cladding,
live together in perfect harmony
Side by side on the front of some house,
Oh lord, why don't we?"
Well, Stevie, maybe you'd have an excuse, but surely Paul, surely the man that wrote 'Eleanor Rigby', 'Hey Jude' AND 'Rupert And The Frog Song', could find the words to describe it you? In the meantime, to answer the question "why don't we?", well...

...THAT's why not!
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WATERCOLOURS AT THE TATE
By Phil E. Stein
So, to the Tate Gallery for the Watercolours exhibition. I hadn't realised she'd made that much money being in a mediocre comedy series and then Doctor Who, but I guess that's the BBC's superstar salaries for you.
It was pleasantly surprising to see that some of these painter johnnies had scaled their ideas up appropriately, painting things a bit bigger than their normal shortbread tins, tea trays and non-specific greetings cards:

Those weren't the only sorts of food packaging images on show. Take a look at this one by Richard Parkes Bonington. It was probably for an early version of Pizza Express because they've done it all in Italian like they do, the spinach pizza being a 'Fiorentina', the weird leftovers one being the 'Veneziana', and so on. This was probably used on the box for some sort of herb-topped pizza, the 'Verona, Piazza dell'Erbe'.

(How long before Godsento resurrect that to use that on one of their Instant Language products?)
The food links didn't stop there. Apparently some of the early artists were so hard up they couldn't afford proper materials and would just use whatever food scraps they had to hand.
This one, for example, is a mixture of water colour paint and the tasty Japanese fried treat, tempura:

This one, by comparison, uses watercolours and ganache (a creamy chocolate mixture) on vellum. Vellum is very rare, being the actual skin of a character from 'Lord Of The Rings'. The combination makes it so bright... so beautiful... ah, precious, you might say.

I discovered that painting, just like Photographs, Radio and TV, had started off in black-and-white and sepia, before moving through wishy-washy colour to technicolour. You can see the gradual move to widescreen too.

There were quite a few works from folks from other fields – writers Victor Hugo, for example, whose paintings look about as cheerful as you'd imagine, and nonsense writer Edward Lear. Lear in particular was keen to paint at a high level, was always hanging around with artists, trying to get his name known, and was definitely considered a bit of a wallaby painter.

The next one I noticed was labelled as 'A Beardsley'. Who knew that ex-Newcastle United striker Peter Beardsley could be so precise and delicate?

It was notable that the same names cropped up again and again - Blake, Rosetti, Burne-Jones...

...and lots and lots of Turner, the popular fuzzy artist. Despite the overwhelming amounts of Turner, there were no exhibits on show from Bachman, his partner in rock group Bachman Turner Overdrive, who also wrote the best-selling book about the outcast hobbit that learned to fly and explored Africa, 'Jonathon Livingston Smeagol'.
Talking of names, at Dulac's 'The Entomologist's Dream', I noted it had been donated by Mr C.D. Rotch. Now, Two Legs Good has written before (here, here and here) on the pitfalls of stupid parents that don't think things through before they name their children, so I'm completely unsurprised that ol' C.D. always maintained the importance of that middle initial. How he must have thanked his parents for calling him C.Rotch!
But let's turn back to Turner. The Tate seems so in awe of Turner that they'll even exhibit some bits of paper he cleaned his brushes on while doing some real paintings:

The last rooms brought us right up to date with contemporary works, some so damned contemporary they haven't been finished yet, or in one extreme, appeared not to even have been started:

Yes, those were really on display.

One child in particular seemed to be trying to tell her own story:

Poor girl - I hope that she's getting good advice to stick in at that violin, because let's face it, she's obviously not much cop as a painter.
Another cheeky wee scamp that might benefit from the same sort of guidance is Rebecca, who thinks she can get away with yet another version of the schoolchilds' ancient but ever-popular joke painting subject, 'Black Cat in a Coal Cellar at Midnight':

I'm guessing that maybe some of these were actually made in a play session in the gallery, perhaps on a bring-your-children-to-work day they'd had recently. The plastic sheeting they'd put down to protect the flooring was still hanging up to dry near the exit.

I must say that leaving an old plastic sheet hanging around like that is a disappointing end to such an informative, enlightening and encouraging show, but if you do go to visit it will probably have been tidied away, it looked quite dry when I left. Perhaps they could find a spare artwork or two to put in it's place?
For instance, I'm sure there's probably a spare Turner or two they haven't used yet – say, some of his sketches on the back of old fag packets, or some tissues he cleaned his brush on or artistically sneezed on – that they could use to pad it out a bit and look less empty.
Oh - one last thing. Watch out for the 'Catalogue' - you might think it'd show all the items on show, but far from it. Bit of a swizz, really.
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BREAD AND CIRCUSES
By Two Legs Good
I am not a happy bunny this morning. As Royal Wedding Correspondent for The Blog With Two Legs I have to write about the blasted event in the run up to The Big Day.
Let me make my stance clear:
1. I don’t care much for weddings, especially when more than 10 people are involved.
2. I don’t care much for the Royal Family.
So now that I’ve got that off my chest, it seems blindingly obvious to me that Prince William should have married what’s-her-name years ago. No, not Britney Spears…the other one… the brunette. Oh you know who I mean.
About ten years ago, when he still had a full head of hair, it was ok for teenage girls to fancy him. It was ok because teenage girls normally fancy the type of 'men' (in quotation marks because teenage girls never fancy proper men – they fancy aging actors pretending to be teenagers in soaps or those modern day eunuchs in boy bands who would never get anywhere with real women). So fancying Prince William was a laudably sensible thing to do.
Parents encouraged it too. Posters of him on teenagers’ bedroom walls meant they could let out a collective sigh of relief. 'At least she doesn’t fancy some coke snorting imbecile prancing about on stage like a gibbering idiot with a red hot poker shoved up his backside.'

That’s why it was ok.
But that was ten years ago. Now that Prince William is a balding Prince Charles mini-me it is most certainly not ok to fancy him. Oh no. No siree. Not unless you could truthfully claim to fancying his dad and both his uncles, and if you did that I’d know you were lying, or mad, or both.
All this 'we love Wills, isn’t he a Royal Hunk' nonsense touted in the press really gets my goat. It’s a load of baloney made up by right wing newspapers in order to sell copies of the Daily Mail.
Did they go crazy when Prince Edward got married? No.
Why? Because:
1. Nobody had heard of him.
2. He’s bald in an unattractive bald type way.
3. He picked his bride from the Camilla shelf.

So let’s take off those opaque-rose-tinted specs the press is trying to foist upon us and accept that Prince William should have married a few years ago when he was still arguably attractive. He no longer is, which, by the press’ own rules, is as good a reason as any not to care about his wedding.
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PRINCE CHARLES: NUMBER ONE ALSO-RAN
By Misty
Prince Charles has got to have one of the crappest jobs going. True, it’s nowhere near as grim as emptying bins or processing sewerage, but being named the Longest Serving Heir Apparent is the biggest kick in the teeth I can think of. They may as well have called him the 'Number One Also–Ran'.
He has spent all of his life waiting for a job that now, at an age when most people think about retirement, the press is suggesting goes straight to his eldest son. Ouch! That’s gotta hurt… and it’s not like he can go running to Mummy for sympathy.
In 2010 Prince Charles was the hardest working royal, completing 585 royal engagements, as if effort was going to help in some way. 'Try harder and you WILL be King'. Surely he’s figured out that’s not what helps you get on in life. I mean if anyone should have understood that, you’d think he would.
So what does he have to show for a lifetime of waiting and trying? Nada. Nichts. Just a load of photos of him looking stupid in various ‘traditional outfits’. 'You want me to wear this wicker hat? Of course, I’d be delighted!'

Let’s face it, he wants the job reeeeally badly but he can’t bring himself to do what’s necessary to get it because he’s wanted it ever since he was a nine year old in short trousers still hankering for the comforting arms of his wet nurse. Now, 59 years later, he doesn’t have the job and I’ll bet he’s still hankering…
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BBC ENGLISH part 2
By Atom Heart Mother






I think I've found our man!
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ADDICT QUEEN CORNERS BIRTHDAY MARKET
By Two Legs Good
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