Frustration

Here is a moment of frustration, as scored LIVE by me on a piano. 

The Vegetarian

The vegetarian got down onto the hallway carpet and scrubbed pathetically at the blood caked in it's fibers. 

She knew that her cats where't vegetarian like she was (God, she'd tried) but until recently they'd been content with having their dinner from out of the can. The vegetarian had found a small wood-mouse in her spare-room a few weeks-back, not moving, which one of her cats had been mewing towards in expectation of praise. Not received.  The vegetarian buried the mouse in the back garden, and placed a large plant pot over the plot to stop the foxes.

It looked like there had been a struggle on the stairs. As well as the dark red blotches on the carpet, there were also Pollockian flingings of red across the cream walls & a soggy maroon puddle on the sofa. The vegetarian assumed it had been a pigeon or something, considering the height. The poor thing must still be in there somewhere, she reckoned. 

The water in the vegetarian's bucket had turned grey, so she took it downstairs to the kitchen and emptied it in the sink. As the water spiraled down the plug-hole, the vegetarian looked out of the kitchen window. Her two cats sat on the wall outside, looking in - waiting patiently. Domestically. Her two cats only waited on the wall when the windows weren't open. 

The vegetarian reached out for one of the knives by the sink. 

Based on a true story. Written by Jen Ives. 

Swedish Style Balls - POEM

Swedish Style Balls
Oh Quorn Meat Balls, what are ye?
Your box promised delicacy 
I'll question for eternity 
This oxymoron mystery

a poem by Jen Ives

Some Pictures #1

I take pictures sometimes (on a camera, not out of people's homes). They're not all that or anything, but this is my blog and anyway, I wasted a whole three hours walking around getting these shots, so I've got to put them somewhere don't I?

Here are some of them, if you're bothered: 

They're alright aren't they? Not the worst you've ever seen, but you wouldn't buy one. Anyways, slideshow's over now, you can go if you want. 

Ricardo

I'm not much or a singer, but every now and then a cause comes along that's so important I feel I have to jump on the piano and lend my voice out to the World. That is why today, I release this video to help find Channel 4's star of the reality TV series The Salon Ricardo Ribeiro. 

We miss you Ricardo. Please come home. 

Lyrics:

RICARDO

Oh Ricardo

Where are you?

Ricardo

We miss you

You did that advert

For TRESemm'e

It made our day

Ricardo

Are you in your Salon?

Ricardo

Do you drive a van now

For Ocado?

We won't judge you

Ricardo

Because we love you

words & music by Jen Ives - 2015

Berlin Walls

You hear a lot about the Berlin Wall, but you don't hear much about all the other walls the city has to offer. Sure, they might not have played as much of an important role in Germany's history, but we shouldn't forget that there are still plenty of other walls in Berlin, and they're no less walls just because there's this other big, important wall down the road. 

I went to Berlin last year and I saw the Berlin wall, and yeah it was pretty cool and everything (I've seen higher), but I also saw other walls as well, and they had their own unique charms. So, here are a couple of my Berlin Wall highlights from last year. 

They're not the Berlin wall. But they are walls in Berlin. Berlin walls. 

A really nice Berlin wall.

Pretty nice wall, in Berlin.

Carpet Wrong

Every day I have to walk past a carpet shop. I don't think it'll be around much longer as we'll probably be using smart-phones to print off our carpets out of 3D Pacific Rift printers. To commemorate it, I drew this picture of it and wrote a poem... about it. 

CARPET WRONG - an incredibly moving poem by Jen Ives

If you are a carpet shop

Try leading by example

Your carpet, it is hideous

I will not view your samples

One Day My Prints Will Come

A short animated film I made at some point last year. 

It's about printers. 

Dear Diary

Dear Diary…

Today was not a good day. There’s been so much pressure on me lately. I feel like the forces of nature have been pressing down on me especially hard, and if it continues I’ll be left completely empty inside.

Please help.

End of correspondence.

—

Dear Pen, this is Diary…

We all know you have a flair for the dramatic, but your last “correspondence” was particularly needy. You and your fancy words. Every time you contact me, I feel as though I lose a bit more of myself. I need more space.

We’ll talk soon

End of correspondence.

—

Dear Diary, Pen again…

Your last letter upset me quite a lot. As if I wasn’t already blue enough. I am going to end it all tonight, and I want you to know that it’s all your fault. You’ll be in the note, the police will find it, and everyone will know you’re responsible.

End of correspondence FOREVER!

—

Dear Pen…

What exactly is your point? If you haven’t killed yourself already, I really do need you to come over and pick up your lid. You left it clipped to the top of my swirly spine thing. If I don’t hear back, I’ll presume you have departed our realm and I’ll give it to one of those pen charities for top-less pens.

Let me know ASAP.

—

Dear Diary…

How can you be so cold? The way you talk to me, it’s like we never even happened. Am I really nothing to you?

Last chance.

Signed, Pen.

—

Pen…

Get a grip, seriously. 

Diary.

Suspicious Plant Noir Detective Mystery

The Case Of The Mysterious Film Noir Suspicious Plant Piano Chord Detective Chinatown Mystery #noir #mystery #detective

A video posted by Jen Ives (@trannypantsyeah) on Sep 19, 2015 at 4:15am PDT

Eye Balls In The Library

"Eye Balls In The Library" - Trannypants gets stared at. [click to enlarge]

Trannypants got stared at by some lady in the library today while looking for DVD’s to borrow. Even when making eye contact the lady didn’t look away or anything. She was really surprised by what she saw and wanted to get a good look. Those were her eyes, and she wasn’t about to divert them to spare some dumb little he-she’s feelings. She might not see another one for a while and so she wanted to make sure she remembered this moment for as long as possible. She thought about maybe even taking a photo, but the little freak walked away before she could get her Polaroid out. 

Trannypants looked at her reflection in the library window on the way out. Did she have some stuff on her face? Had all the hormones she'd been on for the past two years suddenly reversed their effects and unbeknownst to her she had been walking around with a man-face this whole day? 

God Only Knows

Hello reader, Jen here. I'm the deputy assistant editor here at this personal magazine all about myself (I hope one day to impress the team, and work my way up to just assistant). I live in Brighton, but I lived in Catford, London for 22 years so don't you fink I'm some pushover or nuffink guv. 

Thanks for choosing my blog over all the others on the internet. I appreciate that. Really, I do. You could be on Zoella's right now. I made this video to say thank you, because I actually, properly love you. 

I'm using this blog to share creative projects I've worked on, things I've written, poems, thoughts, recurring dreams I've had, old shopping lists I've found on the floor in supermarkets and maybe even my collection of dead pigeon photographs. 

And then I'm going to sell the reader stats with large corporations, so they can better advertise to you. 

Twitter

Later Potata.