Clivey & Gaz in “Culture Vultures!”

 

 

The Tate Gallery. Written by Gary Hoadley And Erotically Edited by Clivey Dee

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“Ullo Gazza, what do you see, what do you know?”
“Sit down Clivey, have a butchers at that”.
“Oh, yeah, it’s Mondrian, nice painting”.
“What’s it called then?”
“Composition with yellow, blue and red”.
“What about the black lines?”
“He didn’t have enough room on the bottom of the canvas to write black”.
“Why didn’t he write it on the back?”
“He didn’t want to get his brush dirty I suppose”.
“Shame”.
“Shame”.

Clive and Gary move to another room in the Tate.

“What the hell is that Clivey?”
“That is a Matisse Gaz”.
“A French mattress!”
“No you pranit, the artist Matisse. It’s called “The Snail”.
“What part of it?”
“What part of what”.
“What part of that painting is a snail then?”
“All of it”.
“Hold on a minute squire…”
“Why you walking backwards Gaz?”
“I’m giving me minces a chance to focus”.
“Focus”.
“Yeah, cos I can’t see a snail”.
“It’s modernism Gaz”.
“If it’s that modern, why don’t he know what a snail looks like?”
“He didn’t have a garden did he”.
“Shame”.
“Shame”.

After spending a few more minutes looking for the snail, they move on and stop in front of a painting of two nudes

“They look like a couple of nice birds Clivey”.
“Yeah, a geezer called Sigmar Polke painted ’em”.
“Bet they had a job standing still in that position”.
“He must have given them something to lean on, then painted it out Gaz”.
“Clever, very clever”.
“It’s called, “Girlfriends”.
“What, he had two of ’em?”
“Yeah the dirty sod”.
“Dirty sod”.
“Nice painting though”.
“How come you know so much about these paintings Clivey?”
“I broke down outside here the other day and I dived in for a quick butcher’s while I was waiting for the tow truck mate.

A short silence ensues

“Hold up son! I thought you were a mechanic!”

“I am mate, It was me afternoon off”

“Shame”

“Shame”

The End

Arse Gratia Arseoles