I knew a Cyclops once. Boy, he was tamer than a frog in a bucket! Depth perception wasn’t his strong point you see, so instead of shaking your hand, he’d shake your ears. He shook my shoelaces once, which surprised him somewhat because they shook him right back. What he lacked in depth perception he more than made up for in cellos. Man, this guy could tease a cello out of just about anything. This one time he crudely fashioned a cello out of three pieces of turkey jerky, a colander and a small unsigned photograph of Neil Buchanan. He used to play silent Vengaboys renditions for me while I did a big Art Attack using nothing but a hockey team of cats.
This isn’t that Cyclops, this here guy hasn’t got any eyes or any preconceived notions about what a chair is. He can make a chair out of Bucky O’Hare pictures, and more impressively he can make a Bucky O’Hare picture out of chairs. This here guy is the sort of guy who is made out of Billy Whizz and Caramac. The sort of guy who collects Bongo Wood and wears trousers. The sort of guy who has an allergy to seaweed and jingle jangles, but it’s okay ‘cos most foods don’t contain these. So what does this here guy do for a proverbial living? Well that’s easy, he pickles yams and gravies ladders on a weekday, and trains Bass Monkeys on a weekend. Don’t take my word for it though, get yourself down to the yam picklers and you’ll scope him out like a trout wrangler. So hold onto your stock cubes and your clumps of hair, ‘cos this here guy is just a normal guy with normal traits, mates and mushroom crates.