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Two paintings of the Irish Toaiseach (Prime Minister and pronounced Tea-Shock) have appeared mysteriously on the walls of two Dublin Art Galleries. Have a look at: http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/northern_ireland/7960997.stm
Maybe I ought to have put adn Audience rating of EXTREMELY EXPLICIT for this Blog! :)
Gabi
Comments
I hope ...
... the authorities don't get too po-faced about this. What ever else this might be it's still (presumably) an original and interesting form of protest. I can understand someone offering to buy one of the pictures.
It rather reminds of a front cover for Private Eye in the early 60s. It had a 45 rpm record stuck to the front which hid a picture of the then PM, Alec Douglas-Home, sitting on the toilet with a speech bubble saying something like "Put that fucking record back!" It pleased my then puerile sense of humour. I've grown up somewhat since then :) ... I think.
Geoff
How martial...
The Irish, as everyone knows, always went into battle nude and singing, so this is obviously a candid portrait of him fancying himself as Brian Bóruma. My question is, what song is on his lips?
Puddin'
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Cheers,
Puddin'
A tender heart is an asset to an editor: it helps us be ruthless in a tactful way.
--- The Chicago Manual of Style
Song title:
'All kinds of everything'? Well Dana sang it to win the Eurovision Song contest in about 1970 something.
The Celtic tribes of these islands didn't quite go nude into battle, there were painted in woad and apparently wore their hair up, covered in some gunk which included chicken poo. I wonder if the despatched Romans were amongst the first 'woad kills'.
Angharad
Angharad
To the tune 'Men of Harlech'
'What's the use of wearing braces
Shirts and socks and shoes with laces?
Better far in woad!
Woad's the stuff to show men!
Boil it to a brilliant blue
And spread it all over your abdomen!'
It's a long time since I was a Scout and that's all I remember from our camp fire sing alongs:)
Amazing what rubbish my brain stores in its deeper recesses and more amazing what essential stuff I forget :(
Geoff
Helas pour moi...
Amazing the stuff one finds on the Web:
Tune "Men of Harlech":
The Song of the Ancient Britons
What's the use of wearing braces
Socks and pants and shoes with laces
Other things you buy in places
Down in Saville Row.
What's the use of shirts of cotton,
Studs that always get forgotten,
Such affairs are simply rotten
Better far is woad.
Woad's the stuff to show men
Woad to scare your foemen
Boil it to a brilliant hue
Then rub it on your back and your abdomen
March up Snowdon with your woad on
Never mind if you get rained or snowed on
Never want a button sewed on-
Tailors, you be blowed.
Romans came across the channel
All dressed up in tin and flannel
Half a pint of woad per man'll
Dress us more than these.
Saxons you may waste your stitches
Building beds for bugs in breeches
We have woad to clothe us which is-
Not a nest for fleas.
Romans keep your armours
Saxons your pyjamas
Hairy coats were meant for goats
Gorillas yaks retriever dogs and llamas,
Ancient Briton never hit on
Anything as good as woad to fit on
Necks or knees or where you sit on-
And now for something completely different:
http://backreaction.blogspot.com/2008/03/cookies-palygorskit...
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Woad
The Mayans and the Celts had evidently made the same discovery, as woad by itself doesn't paint worth piss.
Puddin'
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O, woad is me
T' have seen what I have seen, see what I see!
--- Ophelia, feeling a little blue, in Hamlet, Prince of Denmark
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Cheers,
Puddin'
A tender heart is an asset to an editor: it helps us be ruthless in a tactful way.
--- The Chicago Manual of Style
I remember singing that…
…on the ’bus we hired to take our ski club up to the Highlands for a day's skiing on a Sunday; as well as the Quartermaster's Stores—My eyes are dim, I cannot see—and other suitable lewd songs.
Gabi
Gabi.
I'm consumed ...
... with woad wage :)
Obviously, my memory has faulty ROM or the magnetic drum has worn bearings.
Geoff
Chicken poo...
I'm sure it took simply ages to comb out, and we forgot to mention that they were proudly erect, meant to demonstrate how they lusted for battle, I'm sure. One wonders, naturally, how Celtic Women Warriors (no relation to the pop group of the same cognomen) demonstrated their own enthusiasm, since the obvious corollary might be taken amiss.
Puddin'
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No one will be watching us,
Why don't we do it in the woad?
--- Paul McCartney
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Cheers,
Puddin'
A tender heart is an asset to an editor: it helps us be ruthless in a tactful way.
--- The Chicago Manual of Style
OoHHHHHHH Thats so
OoHHHHHHH Thats so Baaaaaaaad!!! ROFLMAO CaroL
CaroL