some old bullshit


My wife’s always telling me, she goes, “why you no leave and go ‘n live somewhere else, eh?” To be perfectly honest I do agree with her and I think I could make it BIG TIME in Bath or London or America but I have a little secret.

About three years ago now I met a man outside some public lavatories. He beckoned me inside with the promise of a sight of incredible awesomeness. Needless to say I didn’t need inviting twice. He ushered me inside a stall and locked the door and told me to shush. When he was sure nobody else was in the toilets he upzipped his jacket. He did it slowly, not taking his eyes off mine. “You ready for this?” He asked.

“I think so,” I replied, swallowing hard.

He produced this from an inside pocket..

“Do you know what it is?” He asked. He let me hold it.
“Is it an original piece of art by the street artist Banksy?” I asked.
The man fired finger guns at me and said “BINGO!”
“Are you…” He didn’t let me finish and shushed me again.
“I’ll sell you this because I like you.”
“I could never afford…”
“Three grand.”
“I could afford that.” I told him. I still had redundancy money left from Rothmans.
So anyway. Yeah, I’m the proud owner of an original Banksy. A self portrait no less. Nobody knows who he is of course but I like to think I met him that night in the toilets. It’ll all come out after Banksy dies. I hope he dies soon because then the value of my picture will skyrocket..