Tap Turner Prize

I knew I’d one day win the turner prize!

…And the award of the prize for 2016 goes to…

When I turn on the tap I know my identity . I am a tap turner and it is my life flowing down the plughole in glugs and wheezes, belches and finally a sad trickle. What’s more, I can control the flow making it more laminar or turbulent at will. Am I rocking out or what? Even more scarily is the analogy of the plumber/doctor for when things go wrong with the washers (flannel)  or when there has been a sudden surge or a sub-zero night and a pipe has done the unthinkable and  burst. Is this like a breakdown where suddenly you are surrounded by professionals who like you can only speak in literal terms so you find yourself with someone saying ‘You are well? We don’t think so’ like the plumber saying ‘My theory is that there is a leak caused by a break in the piping, SOMEWHERE’

Confused?

Out of control?

Who is turning the damn taps anyway? The deists (is that the right word?) think that God is turning the taps for us and that we are merely carrying out his plan. The anarchists believe that the taps should be stuck at full on and that only a force of nature can stop the flow. Or like me, you could believe that to clean your teeth you need water so bugger the rest of you thoughts you INSECTS. Lego taps are cool. In the animus lego world, the taps turn themselves on and off…

I need to train lego taps to turn on whenever I squeeze toothpaste onto my toothbrush.

Does this qualify me for the Tap Turner Prize? (This is not satire)

and what’s more there is no jury except for my animus swords, teddy and bust of a sci-fi African woman in silver. What say you?

AY!

So there I win (you win again)

 

Hip Hip Hooray. Another Fucking Monday.

 

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