Posts Tagged ‘Modern Art’

Jackson Pollock.

A name synonononononomous with Modern Art.

At last GFB can answer the conununununudrum that art lovers have been asking, “How did he do it?”

With A Sausage!

As the picture below reveals, Jacko (to his mates) daubed, dabbed and splatted his way to artistic glory using the humble banger.

pollock copy

Jackson and his sausage working on Number 11

In the upcoming book, “The Art of Sausage – Meat and Mayhem,” author Lester Mould reveals that Jackson experimented with Frankfurters, Bratwursts and Chorizo before settling on the good old Irish Banger for his applications.

“Jackson discovered the Irish Banger had a greater flicking distance, dribbling capacity and splatter power than more porous American sausages of the time. Just imagine if he hadn’t developed the Sausage techniques he may have continued in his quest to find the perfect way to apply paint using cauliflowers.  Lucky for us he did!”

Cauliflower Art never really took off. Sadly.




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Avec un Sausage et un Scotch Egg……

Magritte sausage

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A modern classic – Old slaphead needed a syrup and a sausage.

gothic sausage copy

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The great man enjoying a drag on his breadcrumbed fish fag!

No wonder all his faces were a bit wonky.

By The End He Was On 20 A Day

During His Fish Period

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Ginger Is A State Of Mind

Warhol. One word. One man.

“Ginger Wigs”.

A collection of Ginger Wigs. Wigs that are Ginger.

So brave. So challenging. So daring. So-da Stream.


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Art experts were left agog this morning when it was discovered that Pablo Picasso’s masterpiece “Tete La Femme” has become “Tete La Femme Avec Une ‘Airy Lip” to honour Movember.

“By the groin of General Franco I’m amazed! Astounded!” cried retired civil servant, Fernando Torres who was on his way to the bakers to buy some fish for his cat. Without success. As an insurance policy he went to the bank to buy some fish. Again without success.

oil-painting-tete-de-femme-by-spanish-painter-pablo-picasso-7433141 copy

Here is an image of Picasso smoking some fish fingers.

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We are on holiday in Spain at the moment. Bleedin’ hot and my prickle heat has flared up. Scratching more than a Rap DJ I was until we found a bottle of Calamine lotion. Best to drink it as a shandy though.

I picked up an ear infection from the hotel pool and have produced enough ear wax to polish dear old Grandma On The Pot’s sideboard, wardrobe and coffin (She’s always been one with an eye on the future).

Unfortunately I mixed up my lovely wife Shirley’s suntan lotion whilst packing for the trip. I think creosote has a lovely pine fresh smell and will stop any chance of Shirl developing wood rot in years to come. “Thick Twat,” she called me in the lovely jokey way of hers!

The room is lovely although the walls are a bit thin. So when I heard Shirl’s sister Doreen telling the young Spanish led she picked up (literally – it is her idea of foreplay) “I’ll tell yer when yer tired Pedro,” my heart went out to him. Poor lad had to be medically evacuated after she’d finished with him. Her needs are truly terrifying.

The toilet seat hinges are a bit wonky. This provides an unsteady platform to produce me goods so to speak. Who needs a Wii when you can spend a happy half hour surfing on your seat? Now there’s an idea to make me a million. But the bidet is different class.

I love bidets. After the wheel they are the greatest invention ever. Not only wash yer back passage, but soak yer smalls and also a handy foot spa! Multi use or what?

Anyway, off to “The Top O’ The Mornin’ To Ye” for a pint. It’s an Irish Bar in case you hadn’t guessed. Everywhere’s got an Irish Bar. Why are they all crap? Still, does an all day English breakfast for only 3 Euros. What more can a man want than 35 Degree heat, a fried egg sandwich and a pint of San Domestos?

Class in a glass.


Laters and Lids Down Gentlemen

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Somebody has asked to see the Steve McQueen Great Escape image again – as always happy to oblige !




Last week somebody asked to see Picasso smoking his fishfingers……What a strange world we live in.

By The End He Was On 20 A Day

During His Fish Period

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Somebody has asked to see the Picasso smoking a fishfinger picture again – as always happy to oblige! If you want to buy the original send a cheque for £5,000,000 and it is yours!


By The End He Was On 20 A Day

During His Fish Period

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How are the New Year Resolutions going? Me too sadly. (They are listed here if you are interested).

I have been thinking about Art.  I like paintings.  A Man o’War or a dog playing a harp are both to my taste.

Recently I was struggling in the facilities of Liverpool Street Station on account of a “swift half” of twelve pints of Cider.

As I finished my business, I noticed on the cubicle door, a crayon drawing of two men involved in a gymnastic display worthy of Nadia Comaneci (if she was a bloke that is). One of them may have had a beard. Tasteful it most certainly wasn’t.

There was a phone number scrawled beneath the sketch and the phrase “I like cock.”

One word came to mind, Banksy, followed by the old proverb “One Born Every Minute”.

Lucien Croix De Guerre,  an Art Dealer in Shoreditch certainly was.

£3,000 he paid me for it.

Strange looks I got walking down Commercial Road with a toilet door under one arm and a copy of The Sun under the other! Lucien reckoned I had invented a new genre. Les Artes de Cottage, he called it.

The door is now hung in the Tate Modern with the title, “The Fallowness Of The Soul” (Yeah, I don’t know either). Turns out the phone number was a Tory MP opposed to Gay Marriage.

Bought my lovely wife Shirley a sitting at the local tattoo parlour with some of the money. Lovely tat of Barack Obama she got. Although it was meant to be Margaret Thatcher. Not the best tattooist. Cheap though. Does a great dagger through the heart. He did mine. Looks alright from a certain angle. Shame he spelled Shirley’s name wrong though. Shirty has a certain ring to it though. Could have been worse.



You can read more of Bob’s musings whilst on the pot here and here. Your lives will be infinitely richer for doing so.

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