Sorry, unable to post at present due to two idiots on the blog, one homophobic author who apparently thinks he is having a show fight with someone more famous than him, and one irritating woman who thinks she is entitled to stick her nose into my life.
I will send you a picture or t shirt or something when Little Shiva is finished, to whichever address is on your ltd company at the time, apart from that I think I have probably said quite enough. I hope you have a happy marriage and it was worth all the shit you caused.
Blog is likely to go corporate at some point, but for now I am off working on other projects as I was unable to do much with the artwork over xmas for various reasons.
It has come to my attention that bawbag is still spreading malicious rumours about me, so this post is just for anyone who happens to see me passing through and is told the same rubbish.
Bawbag came to me, not the other way round. I was minding my own business and in love with Little Shiva at the time and not at all interested in meeting anyone else. This was not rational, there was no interaction between Little Shiva and myself, mainly due to my being convinced he was involved with some woman we worked with, it then transpired that he was married to some other woman who seemed to be locating herself as far away as possible. There was never any expectation of a relationship and I averted my eyes due to their being pressures from elsewhere in the office we worked in, in the form of a giant steroid abusing English lout who took a notion for me for no apparent reason and with no encouragement.
At that time, I was looking for a partner on the grounds that I would like to have had a child before it was too late, and as far as I am concerned, the series of disasters since then has meant that even superficial trust is impossible. Little Shiva was beautiful and had a fast wit and only one moment was enough to persuade me that I would have been happy watching him watch cricket (presumably)
At no point did Bawbag boasting about his money factor into anything, and he is not that great in terms of company. I call him Bawbag for good reason, quite apart from it being his favourite word. He is neither graceful nor witty.
In point of fact he was a screaming bore who eventually took to ranting complete drivel.
Two months after I refused to return to his shop, he started making accusations and he has stopped only to try and retrieve me ever since. I am not at all interested in speaking to this person, as far as I am concerned he is bonkers.
His unpleasant ex was the ideal person for him as far as I am concerned, however she is no longer interested as it turns out he is a compulsive liar and abuser.
The only thing he has told anyone the truth about is that his family has a lot of money. Unfortunately this is not particularly worthy money and no respectable person would entertain it for this reason.
I hope that covers everything, I am heartily sick of this moron now.
So, we have had quite a few confused millennials trying to interfere with various parts of our life over the last few years.
Frst we had a bunch of blisteringly thick nurses that decided it was time that my mother was dead regardless of how she or I felt, backed up by power mad social workers who appear to get some sort of bonus for taking people’s properties from them. When presented with what they were actually doing according to logical observation, they simply pretended not to know.
Then we had a company that thought spouting right wing corporatist crap about putting the disabled to work wasn’t political.
Then we had a bunch of people at the bank who imagined that only TV is a safe activity, and anyone creative is to be viewed with suspicion. I was horrified by this one. I was the only person in a huge roomful of people who did anything other than watch fucking box sets.
Then we had Little Shiva, who decided that I was to be deprived of a job I desparately needed for no reason other than he didn’t feel like telling me that he was married despite doing quite the peacock display.
After this we had some nutjob actually chasing me out of a building for not being exactly like her, screaming ‘you’re not like us, what are you doing here?’ I kid you not.
Then we had the homophobic author who thinks being married gives him entitlement to dox a gay man for chatting him up and then try to get him arrested. He has repeatedly stated that he plans to stalk me, and is apparently too stupid to know that this is not really a very good idea.
Up next is Bawbag, who is a misogynist, but I find misogynists quite funny and after being a chef usually handle them quite easily. He seemed to have some sort of special arrangement with the police, who actually took the trouble to come out to ask if I wanted to return to his not very pleasant care. This is a forerunner to the world after Humza’s hate law. The Scottish habit of friendly fire to defuse abuse is going to be made illegal because a mediocre private school Hutchie boy doesn’t understand.
Finally we had scummy Sikh dude. I worked with a Sikh family for months, and they were lovely, but scummy Sikh dude had a poor self image, so he thought he could take a pop at me too.
From all of this I have to draw the conclusion that we live in a very confused society, and being reclusive anyway, I am inclined to avoid people and their boring self interest and sense of entitlement entirely, since it is actually based on nothing.
They also seem to lack curiosity. Facile crap is what they seem to want to consume. Comedy such as the above is going to end up banned if we allow stupid people to point and say offensive every few seconds.
Thank god I am not young, that is all I can say to this. Your world looks bland, idiotic, very constricted and very, very boring. I feel sorry for children being brought up like this.
So that is very sad, but I just cancelled my SNP membership. They got this years not very big payment last week and now I am cancelling.
The office of Humza Yousaf got in touch to say that they couldn’t give me a straight answer to a straight question, so as far as I am concerned, Haram Bawbag will be the name of the piece until I am instructed otherwise. I will no longer be going to the same shops, enjoying the company of the same people and in the future I will be avoiding any communication with any of the many communities that I have enjoyed interacting with for many years.
I am also in the process of pulling out of several social media channels as they aren’t useful and are very time consuming, I am sure I can think of considerably more productive ways of spending my time.
I am also not going to be voting for the SNP in the future, so you can stop sending me literature now.
Today I have written to and called Humza Yousaf about his Hate Crimes Bill, which potentially means I have to rename Haram Bawbag as Bawbag has been historically vindictive and extremely unpleasant when the fancy takes him.
So here are my three proposals for names. The first is what I had to tolerate from Bawbag whilst I tried in vain to keep him from landing in jail.
The second is the current title, which is a combination of forbidden and his favourite word bawbag.
And the third, which may be preferred by Humza:
I no longer care which it is – let me know Humza. I take this as a war on Scottish culture. We have always called each other names, that’s why we are good at war. If you don’t get it, that’s too bad. I daresay you can do without my £15 a year and I promise I won’t try to have any kind of relationship with any Muslim person of either gender because I will not be safe to do so.
This week has been educational, as I made some publicity stuff for Haram Bawbag. I do not see him using it, but I have a nice ‘kiss my ass’ sticker on my car for his amusement when I pass by.
I am proud to say that Glaswegians have grasped this in the spirit that it is meant. I would not be calling him names if I didn’t know and like him, therefore it is a positive rather than negative art statement. Long live our proud tradition of calling each other horrible names for fun.
I do not know if he has managed to persuade his moll to read the story to him but although I have not been uncritical, I could have gone into a lot more detail and the whole thing could have been a lot worse.
I do wish I could actually speak to him, but I am in no mood to be messed around yet again so I do not feel like compromising my comfort zone for a person who acted as he did. If he wants to see me before it is no longer possible for legal reasons, he can do some work. I should not have to.
Haven’t managed to move anything on this week for various reasons, but should get back to it shortly.
If it were not for issues of practicality I would add some spotlights at the bottom from the tiled part up as light makes a massive difference to this one.
I have made my first publicity banners with it and I may take some more pics once I have fiddled a bit more.
I like it, it is continuing with the kind of circusy thing I seem to do inside my head, but it is developing a lot now.
I will do a long blurb at some point, but for brevity – it is about women in Islam, and was made as a result of the inspiration behind it trying to stop me using power tools, I suspect as a way of moving the relationship on a bit since I was very carefully trying to be his friend. The mosaic was about his previous relationship, and the helter skelter, zoetrope and carousel are about the reverberations of thought involved in being in love.
It is different every time you look at it, which is very like him, and is another great bit of children’s art. Many of my ideas are from before I was ten, so it is not at all insulting to say my stuff looks like stuff a child would do, because it really is what a child would do given unlimited time and resources.