As I was walking down the road (a-feelin' foine an' larky-o?) I was accosted by one of them there Big Issue sellers.
Now, normally The Xym is oft praised for his stiff, upright purple head, for colored plumage of a verticality is most pleasing to the passing populace.
But not today.
Today, the praise be somewhat obtuse. "Wow! You look autistic!"
Yay! The Xym look... eh,whut?
In the past, I have been mistaken by those bereft of visual comparative clarity for Dustin Hoffman... or was it Dusty Bin? I'm pretty sure it wasn't Dusty Roads or Rusty Lee as I ain't got a zed zed topbeard, nor a big fat giggly black female chef.
But I could be wrong.
Anyhoo, turns out I'm not on of them rain men (which is good, as I recall The Weathergirls as two big black fat mommas, and I don't want to be be getting the West Indian equivalent of Viz's Fat Slags San & Tray absolutely soakin' wet at just about half past 10. 10 tonnes by the size of 'em!).
What this undomiciled vendor of news actually said was that I look artistic!
Piss Artist? Nay, the musketeer moustache of twiddlyness is one of them there stereotypical accoutrements of poncey painters! All I need is a beret, a pallet and a village idiot smock to complete the look!
Forget sending me your photos of flange for Fannuary¹ - just invite me & me easel over, and you can model all nudie for me, draped over the bed or sprawled on the sofa and I'll just paint some real life Art.
Hold on... photography is art, isn't it...
Where's me digital camera!
¹ PLEASE DON'T FORGET - I STILL WANT YOUR FANNUARY FOOF SHOTS TO MAKE A CUNT COLLAGE OF ALL MY PRETTIES TWINKLES.
