Today's 'effort' comes from something of a Photographic 'Mufty' or non-Uniform day in that there's a 'Have I got News for you' style guest publication coming at you like a recalcitrant camel today; not exactly hot from the pages of my very own Ever-Lowering Standard.
A one-man-army of a publication inspired by a combination of Private Eye and The Onion; The Ever-Lowering Standard began as the irrelevant scribblings of a terminally bored Customer Assistant in Tesco Express with stories covering the apparently random issues of Pork Pies, Deck Chairs and the populace of West Wiltshire villages. Critically acclaimed, it has been described as "The most constructive waste of company time I have ever seen!".
In the second of two issues, it started making an abstract connection to actual news stories within a vain attempt to amuse. Though, one would hope, entirely fictional, I decided to include one headline from its' pages as it does show something of another, less serious side to my view of the world, current affairs and politics.
Emerging from the depths of literary despair; our 'chosen one' is: "Another sour lemon for Fathers for Just Ice." an article detailing the furstration felt by campaigners fighting for the removal of slices of citrus fruit from soft-drinks and bottles of over-priced commercial lager as well as their despair at seeing many a publicity stunt wrongly attributed to the much publicised pressure group Fathers for Justice.
The fact that my room, in all honesty, is not usually decked out wall-to-wall with Tesco based 'memorabilia' (and I make a 'W' symbol with my hands to anyone who may say otherwise) means that despite all I said about cropping yesteday, I have had to trim this one in a little bit! The border remains on the basis of the 'Michael Jackson' defense, and at full size when the background turns white, you can read what it says today! Fantastic!
The location for this somewhat fanciful tale is one of the few bits of relevance to anything in this whole story. Due to the pouring rain and my distinct lack of desire to have an intense natural shower prior to jetting off to London this weekend, I constructed a (very, to the power of 17) small 'installation' in my room from carrier bags; the original stories (hand-written on till receipt paper) themselves and other items of 'memorabilia' (including but, not strictly limited to: The Power of Three - an "elite" body of five Pound notes from accross the British Isles) from my time in the Tesco Express store where it all began, co-incidentally enough on a Friday morning! Quite the proverbial "raro" ...
