Thursday, April 29, 2010


                 Tess woke up before Jack ..... it was her habit or at this stage now of the relationship, her routine. They have been together for almost over two years now or maybe two and a half, nobody was counting. She knew if was to wake up Jack right now and ask him,
     'Hey, sleepy head, how long are we together now,'
Jack would not be able to tell her the exact date.
     'Hopeless, totally hopeless,'
she would say, 
     'and more to the point do you even remember the date of my birthday, I will give you a  little hint, 12th or 13th of, think now .. carefully, 12th or the 13th of November.?'
She was teasing him and liked to watch the expression on his face change, like the clown looking for the right expression to 'put' on.  Now he was up to his knees in quick sand of the mind type. He could never get it right, but she knew Jack, she just wanted to see him sweat a little and to watch that worried expression on his sweet face ..... you would think she had a shotgun to his head. He was afraid to answer in case of giving Tess the wrong date but it was all play with them. He just has not got the head for dates. Some people were born with the head for figures, remembering dates but Jack, well he was born with lots of kindness he gave out and saw no wrong in anybody.
Tess was now standing at the kitchen window waiting for the coffee to boil watching the neighbours dog, half trotting about and peeing up against anything that wasn't moving. She never saw a dog that could pee so much. She had a total dislike for that dog and would swear it killed off any decent plant she had in the garden, but you could not say it to the neighbour, the owner of the dog. He was as mean looking as the dog and was quite capable of peeing on her if anything was said about his dog. He was the living nightmare next door.  
So much for the dog.
So much for the neighbour. 
So much for her plants.
    'Coffee boiled yet ... sunshine,'
asked Jack , as he wrapped his arms around her slim waist and pulled her towards him, playing his stubble-chin on her shoulder. She could forget almost everything when Jack held her in his arms. She never thought she could love a man as she loved this man Jack. She was always afraid of being hurt and she did not like to be hurt. Not like the last time. No more. She promised herself ... with a vengeance that could kill.
No more.
Jack and Tess were of the same age, twenty eight, with two months between them. She taught in the junior school for the past year in the same neighbourhood and mostly walked to the 'little monsters' as she called them, but today was a public holiday. No school, no 'little monsters'. Today was her day with Jack.
Free and easy day.
Just like Jack who was an easy going kind of guy and never seemed to stress himself over anything, except maybe for the neighbour, who for no reason always gave him dirty looks and never a kind word was said between them, but not the dog, no, Jack had time for the dog like he did for all human and sentient beings. He could never figure it out why the neighbour had it in for him.
    'Must be a past life thing,'
he would say to Tess. 
    'The neighbours dog could come up and pee on sweet Jack's leg',
Tess would joke but with bitter derision tied up in it, 
    'and it still would be alright with Jack .....  Jack the sweet gentle giant'.
She would play with him, running her small hands through his reddish hair, trying her best to get him to do anything that might look anything but playful, but no way, Jack was Jack, no matter how she would try Jack was the gentle giant .... it's why she loved him so much. The day he came into Tess's life nothing else mattered to her and certainly not her past. She had a new life now, a new beginning and the future was looking good .... looking very good. She now thought there was a God in her world.
After a slow morning of drinking coffee and catching up on events in each others life's that does not involve the two of them together, they got ready to go to the library and then for a walk in the park and maybe to Dick's Diner for a bite to eat after working up an appetite after their walk. 
Tess was doing her final year in child psychology at night and wanted to collect a book from the library that was waiting for her to be collected. She waited two weeks for the book that was out of print and with no time to spare to run around to try to find a copy the library was her best option. She was only interested in one documented account of a child of nine who killed her grandfathers twelve breeding gun dogs .. because the dogs got all of his attention and she adored and wanted the attention from the grandfather, all of the time, 24/7. 
    'His affection was not for the dogs but for a nine year old child.'
 It was how she saw it. She wanted to hear his kind words for her alone. 'Dog-man', the nick-name he was given and as he was known far and wide was the best and top breeder in the county for gun dogs, maybe in the country. His reputation travelled without effort. 
It was a warm night when 'Dog-man' was out checking on his dogs as was his habit before bedtime. This night will change everything as he knew it, as they knew it.  One nine year old girl and one old man are marked for all time.
    'The dogs were too quite .... why,?' 
he was thinking, as he approached the twelve kennels. They knew when he was coming to check on them and always put on show for him but tonight there was no show of barking but a show of vomit and pain. 'Dog-man' never recovered to his full health after that night and died shortly afterwards never knowing who and why anybody would want to poison his pure breeds.
It was a real mess, vomit everywhere, twisted snouts, frothing at the mouth like soap suds in a fountain and dogs lying every which way possible burning inside out. You could smell the burning insides of the dogs. It was even too much for the veteran vet to stomach as he put down the dog's, one by one hanging on to life and not understanding their pain, or why.
On the way to the library Tess dropped Jack off at the station. He was chief fireman. The youngest in the county and even though it was his day off, he was still on twenty four hour call. He wanted to show his face in the station .... 
    'To keep the boys on their toes,'
he told Tess, smiling. 
    'It's only while you are collecting your book, we will meet up in Dick's in half an hour ...... you know how it is, and I think we might forget about the walk, it looks like heavy rain moving in'.
Yes, Tess knew how it was and accepted, because she loved Jack with all her energy, and they were going to be together, always, till the end of their day's. It was how she wanted it. Jack's father was also the chief fireman when he served and Jack felt he was keeping the family name good. It was the least he could do for the old man who was always with Jack when they went out on call and stood by Jack in all he did and said. They came from a long line of firemen in the family and always at the back of his mind he felt he owed it to them, the one's who went before him and maybe the one's who will come after him. Jack wanted to start a family but Tess did not see it that way, not for a long time anyway. 
    'Born, to put out fire and to love you and light your fire,' 
he would say to Tess with his sweet smiley face.
After collecting the book from the library Tess went to the hardware store and bought two boxes of weed killer, the strong kind with all the warnings on the box, keep away from 'this and that' what to do if taken orally and what not to do and a small box of rat poison, it would be enough for the job in hand. Hiding them on the back floor of the car, she drove to Dick's Diner ... humming to herself.
'Come on baby light my fire'..... 
Jack was already sitting there. Always on time. If Jack said he would be there at such and such a time you can bet your life he will be there. Steak was on the menu and steak it was, Jack's 'well done' and very 'well done' for Tess. Tess was feeling very happy with her self and it was her treat to-day,
    'Never argue with the woman who wants to pay, what you say Jack', 
says Dick as Tess was handing over the money. Jack just smiled and Jack was happy. 
    'Tess was a good woman with a kind heart, she wouldn't hurt a dog', ... 
Jack thought as they walked towards the car. It was now starting to rain as they pulled out of the parking lot at Dick's Diner. 
    'Have everything, sunshine.?'
asked Jack.
    'Oh yes, everything,'
answered Tess smiling, patting Jack on the arm .... and home they drove.
Tess was standing at the kitchen window the next morning, feeling quite pleased with herself and drinking coffee,      
    'Best coffee I have made, I would feel,'
saying out the words to herself. She was now watching  Jack over the lip of her cup stooping down to the neighbours dog on one knee.
The dog, frothing at the mouth, twisting it's body like a worm on a hook and all of last night's, maybe the last week's 'dogie- dinner' up in a neat pile, like dripping wet sea-sand stacked cone shaped beside him .... was it the dog's or Jack's, who could tell ..... she didn't know. She could not understand all of this as she started to move towards the kitchen door what felt like in slow motion to her.
'Dogie dinner' in a neat pile'.... It was like one of those art installations that try to shock you into feeling disgusted with the world and yourself and giving art a bad name. 
It was too late for the dog and too late for Jack. All Tess could now see was Jack falling over the dog and lying face down in 'dogie dinner' with blood covering his back.
First it was white.
Now it is 'creeping' red.
Red creeping on white.
Now red all over.
Red on red.
Tess dropping her coffee cup ran from the kitchen throwing open the door with force that it gave a fire-cracker bang ..... sprinting towards Jack but never got to Jack. She dropped to the grass on her knees as if she saw an apparition .... or like she was going to pray to her new God for forgiveness.  The grass was still wet after last nights heavy rain ..... red shiney blood coming from her chest, red creeping on green, and a burning sensation eating away inside her, and the last thing she saw before the side of her face hit the wet grass was the neighbour standing over Jack and coming at her again with his Winchester 12-gauge repeating shotgun with slide action better known as a 'pump-action' ..... BANG ... second shot to her ... fourth shot in all .... and all because that little nine year old girl inside her head was trying hard to understand why she disliked dogs so much to the extent of killing them. That was the easy part to understand ... but not to the little girl who wanted her grandfather to give all his love to her and only her ... it was not for spoilt dogs. His love was for her alone. 
It was for her, as only she saw it.
The last thought Tess had going through her mind as she lay their gasping for air on the wet grass and warm blood on her chest and hands was remembering what Jack had said as he was going out of the kitchen door to take at look at the dog that was vomiting 'art installations' onto the grass ....  
    'Who would want to hurt an innocent dog.?'
 and 'Dog-man' ... neighbour ... 'Dog-man' .... now standing, standing over her, legs apart, pointing the 'pump action' at her chest and saying in a demanding tone of voice or was it her long dead grandfather's voice she was hearing now, she could not tell ....... it looked like grandfather .. but she could not tell ... it looked like the neighbour too ... no .... she could not tell anymore ....
    'Who would want to hurt an innocent dog.?' 
asked 'Dog-man' ... neighbour ... 'Dog-man'..
     'Must be a past life thing,'
she answered ... looking over at Jack and seeing her eye level at ground level, one very large black beetle busy making his way towards her open mouth ... there was nothing she could do. Her eyes rolled back into her head.  She was dead now and so was Jack and the 13th dog.
The 13th dog brought it's own bad luck into this world and into the world of Tess and Jack.  'Dog-man',  just about stepped over Tess with tires in his eyes and walked back to his 'bad luck' dog and fired his 'pump-action' again putting it out of his pain for good and fired again for his own pain .... putting him into the next life making all of this happening  a 'Past Life Thing'.

All human actions have one or more of these seven causes;
Chance ..
Nature ..
Compulsions ..
Habit ..
Reason ..
Passion ..

My own seven causes;
Greed ..
Envy ..
Jealousy ..
Hate ..
Anger ..
Cruelty ..
Unknown Reasons ....for doing the things we do.
daf Registered & Protected

Monday, April 19, 2010


He knew he had problems and they knew he had problems and everybody was trying to act as if the problems would go away, but it was not that easy, this was not going to go away because it was now rooted deep in him.  Anger mixed with hatred, turning inside him like a cement mixer out of control. Hatred into self-punishment. He was looking for a way out to revenge the faults of others on to himself. He was the prisoner at the mercy of an enemy from whom he could never escape, his mind, and all the memories that flooded in like water into a bucket was over-flowing ...... Problems ... he was beyond 'problems' now.
'Into deeper darkness fall those who follow the madness.' 
He could hear that voice in his head repeating over and over like an endless tape till he felt he was on a roller-coaster out of control.
Such was the mind of a kid trying to fit in.

He was a slow learner while at school but he made up for it on the sports field and whether on track or the football field you could depend on 'Special Boy' as was the name given to him by his grandmother, to bring home the win and for this reason it was easy for him to be liked by others. He passed out of college in the end with good enough grades and before he knew it enlisted into the Marines and into the Special Unit as it was known. It seemed to be the right place for him to feel more 'special' and what more in life could he want, except to do his sketching and please his tormented father. When he was in school he was in another type of 'Special Unit' for slow learners and it made him feel different from the others so he developed his mind to feel 'Special' and it made him invincible, at least in his own world.
Sean Boyle was the special boy.

His grandmother who doted on him right into his teenage years, until she died from breast cancer, always would say to him no matter what,
'Who's my special boy then'.
When he came home from school or football practice it was the first thing she would say to him,
''Who's my special boy then'.
He needed this affection in his life for it wasn't coming from his mother. She was already lost in herself, and you can forget about his father. His father, also named Sean and also his father before him and for all he knew his father too, a long list of Sean Boyle's back to the year dot. Anyway his 'old man' would always call him a 'sissy boy' even in front of his friends.  He was a mean old bastard at the best of times and his wife suffered for it along with the boy. They had no time for their one and only 'special boy' and so the grandmother took him under her wing like a great big mother hen. She would often say to him ..... 
'Give your father time,
try once,
try twice,
try compassion,
he will come around in time'.....
But he was still a 'sissy boy' to the father.
'Join the Marines, it will make a man out of you',
he would tell him every chance he got to hurt him. He grew up in his own world of confusion that became twisted in his mind at the best of times but at least he could still smile, and besides he had his sketching where his pain could hide on paper. He really wanted to go to Art College, but that was for 'sissy boys' his father would drum into him. No doubt about it he was a bitter man ..... it was hard at the best of times to feel compassion.
The boy tried ... maybe too hard, that he was feeling more of his pain in his failure to reach his father.

His father saw action in Vietnam. Came home with one lung and a head full of shit and shrapnel in his left leg that any closer he was peeing into a bag for the rest of his days. He went out there in 1969 and Jimi Hendrix [whose innovative electric guitar playing greatly influenced the development of rock music at the time and to this day] playing 'Purple Haze' over and over in his head and the Woodstock Music Festival days were still fresh memories. Like all the other boys who went out to Nam, he and he alone was going to put a stop to all this 'commie stuff ' and put 'Purple Haze' into Nam ....... but it was more than 'Haze' than went into Nam. It was an endless flow of tax payers dollars and young men with ideals that came back in body bags, L.I.A. [ lost in action ] or a changed outlook all together, some for the better but mostly bitter 'old men' before their time. His father was no different. Bitter and angry with himself for the things he had to do in the name of freedom. Some how 'Jimi Hendrix' just was not the same and 'Purple Haze' had an orange glow written all over it, just like the Napalm memories in his angry mind that came up like a sun rise. 

He would never talk about Vietnam, not to nobody, and so it chewed away inside him like the cancer that killed his mother. His own father he never knew. He died before he was born, drunk driving, he was drunk and he was driving. His mother told the story as if the father was the victim of a drunk driver and so it was he grew up feeling he was victimised by faith in having to get through life without his own father. He too was angry before he was born. The 'chip on the shoulder' was too heavy to carry. As for his son, he was the prize 'sissy boy' in his father's eyes and he could never reached out to him. He wouldn't know how not to even on a good day and so 'Sissy Boy' grew up without the father he so often wished for.

S.B., as he was now called by his buddies in his unit because Eddie his lifelong friend, told everybody that he was a 'Special Boy'. Good with his hands, more than good, he had magic hands and was a stickler for detail and so it was into the Special Unit they enlisted. They joined the Marines on the same day. It was true, S.B. was good at his job. After his training and a couple of times out on tour he made Sargent. Nerves of steel but it was the pain in his head that numbed him from the reality of the real situation. Life was a bitch, and he was enjoying the 'Russian Roulette' game he was playing with his life every time he went out on tour.

Back home after a tour and into the winter S.B. and Eddie were talking about doing another Tour of Duty. They needed to feel the buzz in their so called existence, and they just were not getting it back home. Too many nights of getting drunk, talking 'bull' and feeling on edge most of the time. When S.B. was home from his first tour his old man died. He found him on the back porch sometime after midnight, cigarette still burning in his big hand and Jimi Hendrix doing his thing with 'Purple Haze' in the background. His liver gave in and not before it's time. He was heading that way like a run-away train running out of track, and since the wife died it was all to late for him to try caring anymore.

Standing at the grave side on a wet morning of the funeral, looking down at the coffin now after taking his gaze off his mother's name on the black granite stone, Eddie near by watching over his buddy saw him drop the foolscap sketchbook in on top of the coffin looking dazed .... he  could hear him say, 
'Something to look at while you are lying there and I hope it chokes you on your way ... son of a bitch'. 
As soon as the old man was in the ground and not even cold, S.B. signed up for his Tour of Duty and Eddie was out with him.
Eddie was always there for him.

They were in the 'Gravy Train', the nickname they gave their Hummer. Even though it was early morning it was already hot and the dust was everywhere inside and out, sticking to their skin that it felt like sand-paper rubbing into it.  S.B. was riding 'shotgun', his buddies trusted him for his keen observation for detail. He would not let anything pass and besides they could relax when S.B. was on the  'shotgun'. Eddie was in the back of the Hummer cracking jokes as usual. They were bad jokes but the guys didn't mind, it took their mind off the heat and dust. S.B. was feeling different today, he knew it when he woke up before call and he knew it more so now. He wanted to go back to bed and curl into a foetal shape, like the fetus he was when he slept. He was watching the purple haze move across the sky in the distance and it reminded him of his so called father,
'This was not good' .... 
he thought to himself when his eye scanning ahead caught something on the road shining in the sunlight. With his clentch fist he banged the 'Gravy Train' on the roof once and it stopped hard on, throwing everybody in the back forward. Automatically everyone piled out from the back on to the dirt road, three to each side of the 'Gravy Train' looking up and down the street and to the roof tops. This was not a drill. This was not a good place to stop for any reason and they knew it, snipers could be  anywhere.
They were like sitting ducks on the first day of open season.

Eddie moves up beside S.B., shouting .....
'What did you see bro ?'
all the time watching the roof tops,
'What did you see bro, answer me ?' .....
'I'm not sure, something on the road up ahead' .....
'What do you mean you are not sure, this is not good man, we are boxed in, it's bad news to stop the 'Gravy Train' here' .........
'Put a boot in it Eddie I see it now ... we have got ourselves a device in the middle of the road, it looks like one of those jobs that could go off by mobile phone'.
Eddie turns around and looks up the road,
'Shit, and I thought we were going to have a good day to ourselves, ...... o.k., let's do it, I think it's my turn to 'suit up'.
'No Eddie, I'll go, I need the walk anyway, you owe me one  o.k'. 
Eddie gives S.B. a quick look,
'Have it your own way but make it quick, we could have more than one storm on our hands soon if we are too long here I don't want it to look like we are baking sand castles', looking in the direction of the haze in the sky and at the same time keeping his eye on the roof tops.

S.B. now suited up was moving of towards the device as if he was on a walk through the park and humming to himself,  'Yankee doodle goes to town riding on a pony'......
Eddie could hear him in his head phones and smiles knowing S.B. was on the job. When S.B. was on the job it got done and everyone came home in one piece in the 'Gravy Train'. Eddie watching his buddies back could still hear 'Yankee doodle' in his head phones as S.B. knelt down to the device and gently moving the dried earth away stops to look up at the haze in the sky coming in fast.
Eddie saw S.B. looking back towards him and going off balance, S.B. would have sworn he saw his old man standing beside Eddie, in full combat gear just like as he was in his Vietnam days. It was not the first time he had seen him on this tour,  
'You o.k. buddie, you look like you've seen a ghost'.
S.B. regaining his balance, turned his head back to the device on the road and not answering Eddie started to remove the cover from the device. The wiring looked the same but he still said his prayer ....
'TRY ONCE' and he cuts the blue wire, ........ 
'TRY TWICE' and he cuts the yellow wire, ........ 
He was now looking at the white wire for some time and the sweat running down his back irritated him. Eddie could see he had stopped,  
'Move it man, .... I have a real bad feeling about this one buddie, we are way too long here ... leave it ... move your butt and get back here now ... that's an order .... S.B. do you copy, move it now ... now ... do you copy ?'. 

Watching his father coming towards him down the street in a cloud of dust holding out his sketchbook to him. It was his sketchbook in his hand, S.B. knew his own sketchbook and looking down again at the device he could hear Eddie in his head phones calling to him ... now frantic and started moving quick-step towards him. 
S.B. cut the green wire ...
Looking up at his father and the purple haze over his head ....
He then kissed the sky and his father kissed him ...

'scuse me while I kiss the sky .... 
Purple haze all in my eyes
Don't know if it's day or night
You've got me blowin, blowin my mind
Is it tomorrow or just the end of time'?
Jimi Hendrix
Purple Haze Registered & Protected

Wednesday, April 14, 2010



Pine Wood
(painted Black) - Canada                   
Marble - Italy

3m High

Private Collection

The Story

Some of you looking at this work 'The Signal' are probably wondering why bother to make a work like this ... well it was the second thought that came to my mind after the first thought of the 'idea' for The Signal .... but the third thought that came to mind was, location , location, location. This work was made with the location in mind and only for the location. I am a strong believer in 'site specific' sculpture and the transformation it can do both for the sculpture and it's location.

A signal is anything that serves to indicate, warn, direct, command, or the like, as a light, a gesture, an act, etc., a traffic signal, a signal to leave, a railway signal .... when you have all of this to work with you can see why location gives the sculpture it's 'meaning'.

So picture this in your mind ....
The sculpture is sending out it's message placed inside any place of 'worship' ... it becomes over time and working on the subconscious mind of those looking at it an object in itself that will be idolised and worshiped.
As human beings we can 'program' our mind into any belief or any mind-set we chose, it has been proven through out time, just take a look at history and then yourself.

This theory of mine alone, justified the making of the sculpture and  how location can give a different meaning and presences to an otherwise 'boring sculpture'. It opened my eyes and reinforced my mind totally to consider at all times all things possible in the making of Art.
A new Journey begins now. Registered & Protected

Tuesday, April 06, 2010


'Look, I don't care what you say, but he doesn't know his ass from his elbow'.
'If you say so, but I think he is smarter than he is letting himself on to be'.
'We can talk like this all day and say what we like but it's not going to change anything'.
'So, what we do now'.
'I'm thinking, give me time on it ... but we have to find him'.
'Take all the time you need, in the mean time are you going to eat that sandwich, that is, not to let it go to waste, that is .... if you don't mind like, that is .... please'.
'I'm sick of this playing God game, the God with the big 'G' game, where is He now in all of this mess' ?
'I can't answer that, He doesn't tell me what His plans are'.
'That's it, make a joke of it all, a wise guy, that's all we need around here now, another wise guy'.
'Look why don't we wait till he comes back'.
'Who ..... God with the big 'G'' game plan'.
'Maybe, now who's the wise guy' ?
'What did I do to deserve this' ?
'I can't answer that either'.
'Look Mr, this is not a jocking matter, we need him back here, I'm not doing this on my own, I can't, I just can't'.
'O.K. keep your crown on ......When was he here last' ?
'No idea, the last thing I heard was the door closing'.
'Well that's it then, he is not coming back'.
'What's make you say that' ?
'Just a feeling ..... just a feeling'.
'Well I hope you and your 'feeling' is wrong, because I can't do this, I don't have the stomach for it'.
'But you were able to eat'.
'Look, any more smart remarks from you and there's no telling what I will do'.
'Touchieeee'. '
'I told you, no more wise cracks. I won't tell you again'.
'O.K. ..... promise .......... touchieeee'. 
And the door opened. He was back ..
'Where the hell were you' ?
'I can see that .... why' ?
'To look for the camels'.
'Another wise guy. that's it I've had it with you two'.
'If you wanted a smoke I still have a pack here, you could have one of mine'.
''Thanks but no thanks ... I am done with smoking ... for today that is ... maybe I should try to give up, what do you think, do you think I should give it up, or is it too late ... you know ... late ... no, never to late, what'.
'Give up what' ?
'Smoking ... Camels, you know, Camels'.
'Will you two shout up, you are driving me stir-crazy'.
'So, tell me, did you see any' ?
'Any what' ?
'That's disappointing. In a way I was hoping you might have'.
'Yea .... me too'.
'If you two don't give it over I will not be held responsible for the actions that I might take here today'.
'What's up with him' ?
'I don't know ..... he's been like that since you went missing, sorrieeee, looking for camels. Maybe you should have told him you were going outside to look for camels'.
'Didn't think ..... anyway why should I, it would only upset him all the more and you know how he gets when he is upset, it will be like 'total recall' to the old ways'.
'Good and bad ... yea, sometimes I want a 'recall'.
'Here, no charge to you my friend ... just dial this number, it's recall ... I do it all the time .... redial recall ... don't tell .... tell-a-phone ... get it'.
'Anyway, he is not the same. He has changed ... you know, since last night and look at that look in his eyes'.
'Yea .... and moody too ... but don't remind me, and don't remind him ... I didn't want to hear about it all over again and him doing his fair share of ranting again and again about it'.
'What are you two whispering about ..... you don't think I don't know you are talking about me and the other night'
'It was last night .... it was last night, have you lost it'.
'Funny very funny ..... it's still there, that 'STAR' .....I am looking at it right now'.
'We know it's still there ..... we can see it from here too'.
'So .... what are we going to do about it' ?
'I told you I was thinking about it'.
'Well I did my part ... I went looking for camels .... now that I remember I did see tracks'.
'Well well, what have we got here .... a bleeding tracker now, or were they railway tracks you saw ..... what, come on, be certain about this, what do you mean tracks' ?
'Tracks, like tracks on the ground ... I don't know, what other tracks are there'.
'That's what we are trying to find out, dummy'.
'I strongly take offence to you calling me dummy'.
'Fine take offence, I'm giving it out free today, no charge'.
'Will you two stop this fine conversation you are having and let's get back to the business in hand. OK now, again, do you think they might be camel tracks' ?
Don't know like'.
'No, you have to be sure about this'.
'I told you, I don't know'.
'Did it look like a camels foot .... or is the word, hoof ..... foot or hoof ... hoof or foot ... hoof foot ... foothoof ....foot-the-hoof'.
'Stop it, stop it .. they were tracks, that I know and could be camels for all I know, I'm no expert'.
'O.K. take it easy, keep your hair on'.
'Are you getting it up for me ..... can't you see I am bald'.
'O yea, sorry'.
'A bold camel rider .... giddy up'.
'I am not going to tell you two again, give it over'.
'Give what over. It's not me that has the camels'.
'Funny man again, are we ? ... we have a situation here'.
'You are telling me we have a situation'.
'Yea ... that's what I said, we have a situation'.
'Right, so we have a situation ... now what' ?
'Hey, do you guys smell anything funny'.
'It wasn't me'.
'No not that kind of smell, do you not smell camel'.
'What do you know how a camel smells like, the only camel smell you know is in that pack'.
'My head is buzzing. This is all too much for me. I can't keep track of it all.
'Don't you start that again'.
'We have to get a hold of ourselves. Find the camels and take it from there'.
'Take what from there' ?
'Don't you start'.
'Sounds good, the bit about getting a hold on ourselves .... always wanted to ride on a camel, mind you'.
'Me too'.
'Do you remember that song two little boys, now how does it go again .. clime up here and ....'
'I am not going to tell you two again, give it over, now this is the plan ... we will go outside and look for the camels, all three of us ... together... and that STAR'.
'O.K. but one problem, how are we going to get outside ... they will not let us out, or do you think they will open the door for us and help us to look for the camels ... I do hope so. I really want to ride on a camel. Oh I so much want to ride on a camel ... it will make my day'.
'He was outside'.
'Yes but only for a pee'.
'But you said you saw tracks'.
'I did ... now I know I did ... I remember, it's all coming back to me now, just needed some time to remember. I know I did see tracks ... but camel, I don't know'.
'Too much. This is all too much to take. I am going out of my little mind if I am not there all ready'.
'You see, we can go out, if he can do it so can I'.
'Me too'.

''O.K. you wise guys, look alive, time for your medication and please ... please, don't give me any more talk about camels and a 'bleeding star' winking at you, I don't have time for this today and for your further information I am off on holiday tomorrow, the next two weeks in Egypt, sand sun and camels ... away from this place, but I will say 'hello' for you to all the camels and stars that I will see ... nowww ..... who's your friend then.
You will all feel better after your medication, trust me.
Have a nice day you guys and be good while I'm away. Anyone doing camel rides around here for the next couple of weeks will be me ....... me on a camel ... imagine that''. Registered & Protected