Tipsichorean in pursuit of art

No that's not a misspelling but a play on words, an attempt to substitute a colloquial expression for mild drunkenness with the joy of dance. The brandy quite literally dancing on the lips. But in this internet age all hopes of originality are always dashed; an obscure local newspaper in the small Californian town of Eureka seems to have beat me to the joke in the 1960s if Google is to be believed.

I didn't want it anyway I was just creating a blipworthy subject. I wanted to show how absurd we look in undertaking the everyday functions of life such as eating and drinking. In homage almost to The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie if you've ever seen it, which has a scene where people sit around a table on toilets but take themselves off somewhere to eat in a small private room; an inversion of our cultural norms.

I do think my nose is sloth like.

Tomorrow morning, and I can see it now (probably about 7.22am) Nelly will turn to me and say "what were you on last night?" Nothing is the answer. Just a potent mixture of over anxiety, fatigue and ennui that drives a man to experiment.

Thank you to those who viewed, commented on, starred and favourited yesterday's entry, I was truly astonished to find a late night blip born of desperation in The Spotlight and so well received. Thank you kindly. In a parallel universe perhaps there is a place where cheese stalactites are for real, until then, you have my messy son to thank for the next best thing.

Celebrated the end of our first year at work today, I took in a small cake and presented it to our chairman over the weekly meeting with a champagne candle on top (which I refused to let her light for health and safety reasons). Was told that having my hair cut and shaving off my fuzz made me look ten years younger (not a valid compliment unless you know how old people think you are in the first place of course). Still, nice to be noticed as they say...