Brevity is the soul of wit.

Do you remember all of those here today gone tomorrow Britpop beat combos that came in went in the blink of an eye back in the heady mid-90s?

I think that this motley crew could have easily passed muster in the pages of Select or the NME circa-’96 from the mean streets of Torquay influenced by a heady combination of Paul Weller and Chrissie Hynde.

All we need is a name for them…

Comments

Roddy said…

What about Beach Trio or Sandy Blighters?
Henry an Co? Jen and the Misfits? Me and Mine?
Now it's up to you!

20 August 2010 at 20:45

Sue said…

My very first thought was..."The Loved Ones". A name already used by a well known group in the 60's (who can forget "Ever Lovin' Man" and "The Loved One"???)but an extremely befitting name for this group of people!
BTW..is that a light tower coming out of Jen's head?

21 August 2010 at 20:47

Kris McCracken said…

They aren't very 'Britpop' names. It really needs to be one word. Maybe a male name:

Steve, or maybe Kevin.

22 August 2010 at 18:24

LeblogdeFadwa said…

You take really good pictures, I like it !
Good luck.xx
F.

24 August 2010 at 05:48

Kris McCracken said…

It doesn't hurt having good looking kids and nice scenery. Thank you nonetheless!

24 August 2010 at 09:41

If you want to be loved, be lovable.

Henry admires the view.

Ah, Joe, you never knew the whole of it...

I still have the robot on the job. Here you can see the Tasmanian Museum and Art Gallery . And here is a poem: Soliloquy for One Dead Bruce Dawe Ah, no, Joe, you never knew the whole of it, the whistling which is only the wind in the chimney's smoking belly, the footsteps on the muddy path that are always somebody else's. I think of your limbs down there, softly becoming mineral, the life of grasses, and the old love of you thrusts the tears up into my eyes, with the family aware and looking everywhere else. Sometimes when summer is over the land, when the heat quickens the deaf timbers, and birds are thick in the plumbs again, my heart sickens, Joe, calling for the water of your voice and the gone agony of your nearness. I try hard to forget, saying: If God wills, it must be so, because of His goodness, because- but the grasshopper memory leaps in the long thicket, knowing no ease. Ah, Joe, you never knew the whole of it... I like Bruce Dawe. He just my be my favourite Austral

Zeal, n. A certain nervous disorder afflicting the young and inexperienced. A passion that goeth before a sprawl.

Here I have tried my hand at the homemade sepia-toned photo. I wasn’t happy with the way that the sun had washed out some of the colours in the original, so had a bit of a fiddle because I like the look on Henry’s face, and didn’t want to pass on posting it. I have a tip for those of you burdened with the great, unceasing weight of parenthood. I have a new recipe, in the vein of the quick microwaved chocolate cake . Get this, microwaved potato chips . I gave them a run on Sunday, Henry liked the so much I did it again last night. Tonight, I shall be experimenting with sweet potato. I think that the ground is open for me to exploit opportunities in the swede, turnip, carrot and maybe even explore in the area of pumpkins. Radical, I know. I’m a boundary-pusher by nature. It's pretty simple, take the potato. Slice it thinly (it doesn't have to be too thin, but thin enough). Lay the slices on the microwave plate, whack a bit of salt over the top and nuke the buggers for five minut

This will hurt me...

Search This Blog