One man stood alone staring at the sea

There was a nip in the air, or more aptly a bitter wind, which kept beach strolls to a few minute bursts then race back to the car.

I tried jumping up and down and clapping my hands to keep warm

The sea was the only thing not covered with snow.

Juicy Couture moon boots and white sheepskin hats from the 70's are the new beachwear items

Luckily we still needed our sunglasses. As you can see the sand at the ocean was all covered with snow.

All the beaches were covered in snow

This certainly makes sunbathing challenging and flip flops not necessary.

As if the Skelly and Ghoul revolution wasn't enough, we have all had snow overdose this winter

From the Records it appears that this has been the snowiest winter in the last ten thousand years or something like that.
In the Hamptons the snow at least is fun, you can go hiking and take artistic photos like this sunrise shot over Long Beach, Sag Harbor.

Harlem Forever

This lady recounted the highlights of the concert whilst her long suffering partner waited patiently.

After the show love was still in the air in Harlem

Valentines Day spares no one. It has aptly been renamed "Singles Awareness Day." Or "Smug Couples can be even more smug day."

The band all wore white suits, it was so 70's!

When the ushers saw me taking sneaky photos, they tried to wrestle the IPhone out my hands. Fat chance!

Inside the Apollo Theater

I fulfilled a dream to see a Motown great at the Apollo.

Smoky Robinson sounded better than ever

He did 2 costume changes. I loved his glittery belt and glittery shoes and fishnet top and black leather pants. When he danced it was the closest thing I have seen to sex in months. I wanted to jump down and dance with him but the ushers restrained me.

Poster of famous black performers adorned the wall

Smoky Robinson told great stories of his old Motown days.

The lobby of the Apollo had wonderful chandeliers

They were a tad shabby next to the ones in my palace but old style glamor was oozing as soon as you walked through the doors.

The SP made the adventurous trip to Harlem to see the legendary Smoky Robinson at the Apollo Theater

Actually the subway drops you a minute's walk away! No need to be scared at all.

7pm Valentines Day - the last minute New Yorkers line up at Sunny Flowers

They know they dare not go home without a stunning bouquet or they will be in serious trouble all year. This line of guys made me laugh.

Did the SP get any roses? Actually she did and they still look lovely! ( Phew!, I held my own this year.)

Happy Valentines Day LLS from your Scottish Princess

In the final room, the piece de resistance , a stuffed wolf, all entangled in purple paint and purple string,possible purple floss.

"Wolfey, what in the dickens happened to you, you look like someone has been playing cats cradle over your body and then just walked away leaving you in a total mess, I am so sorry. Was it those ghouls ? "

"SP, those rotten ghouls thought I was a warewolf so they kidnapped me thinking I would protect them if the revolution goes wrong, but I am just a regular wolf who was in the wrong place at the wrong time. I was digging a hole looking for some food for Itsy and Bitsy,my wee darling cubikins and one of them ghouls sneaked up on me with a net and bang, they got me. I want to go back to my cubs I am a pacifist myself, I would be hopeless in a revolution, I am a Netflix type of wolf really,I am all about cuddling up with a good flick, like Dances with Wolves with Kevin Kosner for example.

One of the ghouls threw all this paint over me and string so that I would fit in with the floss theme of the show. My missus will kill me , I will never get the purple paint off my fur. Can you try and get it off, do you have any nail polish remover by any chance? This paint and string is really itchy and I think I am allergic to the chemicals in the paint as my fur is burning. My old pal the moose is in the other room, the pair of us are planning a Shawshank redemption ( another fav of me and the missus) getaway. We communicate through animal sounds when the gallery is closed which infuriates the ghouls who hate to be left out of anything, but we are both desperate. Despite the rave reviews of the show which we have enjoyed both of us have lives to go back to. Can you help us? Now that the revolution worked in Egypt and Mubarak went scuba diving and snorkeling in Sharm el Shek, the Ghouls and Skellys are all fired up, thinking it is their turn next as you have to admit the press seems to love a good revolution. Those skallywags all want fame and if the Egyptians can do it, they think they can do it too, crazy I know, but you try telling them that. Please SP help Moose and I escape, Itsy and Bitsy will love you forever!"

What between all these exhibits who need my help, like yesterday, how am I supposed to sort my own life out and go on a date, if anyone ever asks or do a yoga class or get the latest must have Spring item for my wardrobe , but how can you ignore all these cries of distress? What to do! I can't rescue everybody all the time just because I am a princess. I am not a superhero I am a princess with different responsibilities, like looking sexy for my prince if he ever shows up. Still I have a heart and I feel for the Wolf and Moose, the Ghouls not so sure. They can stew in their own juice, did you hear the ghoul say his diet is toasted humans, eeeewwwww.

Ghoul with Red Dental Floss

Another piece caught my eye. It looked like an advert for dental floss to me. In fact it looked like this ghoul could do with a trip
to the dentist, sooner rather than later, especially as they seem to fancy themselves as sexpots.

I mean, which nice lassie would want to do a Frenchie with those gnashers? You would get into an awful muddle with the red floss in the way and those jagged teeth sticking out here and there, smooching the ghoul was an easy health hazard.

He certainly had a huge gaping mouth, all the better for making ghoulish yelps no doubt.

"Hey Ghoul, is that dental floss you got all over your teeth or are you trying to catch flies, or is it a cats cradle game? How are you supposed to eat your tea or pieces and jam with all that red string in the way? Do ghouls eat actually and if so what do they eat?"

"SP, of course we eat but being ghouls we have a restricted diet, human flesh rare or toasted and rats legs, bees wings, that type of thing. And yes, this is my dental floss, we ghouls are short sighted, as we mostly are awake at night time when it is dark and you don't need to see so well, so I get a red brand easier to see. I was actually flossing before I was framed as I wanted to make sure there was no rat leg parts on my teeth before I was sealed up as I of course want to look my best for the show, when that dopey framer slammed the frame on me as he is in such a hurry being so behind and all and when I yelped," Hey Jimmy, I am not ready yet, what about the floss, you champion dopo", he simply looked at the frame, shook his head as if to say , ah well , no one will ever know it looks like the floss is part of the portrait and heartlessly chucked me on the finished picture file and so you have it. All my ghoul pals are laughing at me non stop, I am so bummed. Can you help me, just get the glass off so I can throw the dirty rat leg floss away. Oh please, it is so uncomfortable."

As if I didn't have enough to do and now this. It is a shame for the ghoul, but how can I help? I have a bad rap in the gallery scene after the porridge chair episode, if the gallery owner spots me trying to pull the glass off the frame of those two pieces, I will really be in trouble. It must be his bad karma got him into this, eating all those poor rats and bee parts. I didn't like to rub it in by saying if he was vegetarian his teeth would not need so much flossing, so I was schtum.

But being a princess, I nodded politely and sympathetically at the Ghoul's floss tale hoping that would comfort him a wee bitty and moved on to the next art piece. But when I looked back a wee tear dropped on his grey cheek, I must have been his only hope, poor lamb.

Well no surprise, the Skellys had muscled in on the Ghouls show

Knowing them, probably were trying to steal the limelight.
Look at this, a semi normal picture of a regular looking guy and the Skelly has just gone and plumped himself on top of the picture, with no rhyme or reason at all. I studied it a bit longer, was the man wearing a Skelly design on his sweatshirt? Those Skellys will soon try and sneak into the fashion world, and maybe this was their first stab at it. But no, they are not that smart or subtle, no this one looks like he sort of sneaked on top of the picture, imposed himself a second before the frame was sealed shot. The poor innocent guy in was stuck with a skelly floating over him for ever.

"Hey, you, with the black top on, can you explain why a black skeleton's face is hovering, floating in space on top of your body? I mean, I don't like to be rude but it does look a bit odd, sorry to say? Was this what the artist intended? It is a funny kind of a ghoul show so I wouldn't be surprised. I hope you don't mind me asking. I like the picture, sort of."

"SP, you don't miss a trick. I was supposed to be the normal portrait of a regular guy, and we were at the framers and it was my turn to be framed, and the framer was a bit overwhelmed with so many pieces to do, and he had a deadline and when it was my turn, one of the Skellys jumped out from behind the table and shouted, "Hey Jimmy, ( the Skellys like to pretend they are from Glasgow to get a dig in at me), what is that big black splodge on the Scream Ghoul picture it looks awful?"

Well Jimmy the framer looked up
at the picture and this sly Skelly jumped on top of me in a flash and shouted, "HAR, HAR!" as they do, and then the framer scratching his nose , as there was no black splodge on Scream at all, sealed the frame shut. When he looked at the picture and saw the black skelly on top of it, he was very confused, but given the bizarre nature of this show and his own time pressures, he shrugged and said, "Ach, no one will notice,it looks like it was supposed to be like this," and then he moved me on to the finished pile and that was that and there you have it. Now I am stuck together with this hideous black skelly for all eternity. Oh woe is me, help me SP. He smells of dead rats and moldy leaves, he burps, he cackles, he fidgets, he itches, he drives me nuts. Get him off me, the scoundrel!"

Wow, poor thing. I felt so bad for him. Those Skellys will do anything to get into the limelight."

Ghoul NYC mixed media. This one was a bit better.

I quite liked all the bits assembled together in a collage.

The Scream 2 . Ghoul NYC.

Yes, the Ghouls had done their art homework and done a copy of the Munch piece in blood red, their favorite color. First they copied Andy Warhol, now Munch, can no one do anything original anymore ?

There was ghouls everywhere on the walls

One had red eyes , both, and red mouth. I can see they were all experimenting with the red eye look with subtle variations, at least they were trying.

"Self Portrait with crazy eyes, Ghoul."

It seems like the Ghouls wanted in on the art scene too. This mixed medium piece was quite good, the ghoul had probably created a decent likeness, but would you pay money for this piece and have it on your fireplace? There was no red stickers I noted.

"Hey, Ghoulie, did you brush your teeth this morning? Looks like you had one too many last night, judging from that bleary red eye, blue thing you got going on, or maybe this how Ghouls do colored contact lenses, a big craze here 20 years ago , I know you Ghouls take some time catching up on our Human Fashion Fads. You look like my ex boyfriend,on a good day. Anyone try to buy you yet!! Har, Har!"

( I did the Skelly laugh to indicate I know their language.)

He stared back at me blankly.

"Nufink wrong wiv me teeth. I floss every night. Who you looking at anyway Preencess? Leave it out. I like being an art piece,at least someone might notice me now and want to make a movie of me. Night of the living dead art piece, it might be called. Grrr, go away leave us alone. I was napping, wasn't I?"

In a tiny gallery on 24th Street, one of the lesser traipsed lower profile Chelsea gallery streets way at the back was a suspiciously ghoulish art exhibit Che

Whoever had curated this show had simply hotch potched everything together and thrown the art work up on the wall with no rhyme or reason to it at all.

The moose on the wall was splattered with paint and had some paint rags hanging off his antlers.

"Hey, Moosey,what happened to you, what is all that paint crap stuck to your antlers, you look like you lost a fight with a petulant five year old."

"No, SP, way worse, those dreaded Skellys found me in a haunted mansion upstate, took me off the wall where I had been quietly living minding my own business for a good hundred years, and said,Moosey, you are coming to Chelsea with us now. As people love looking at stuffed dead trophy animals on the wall, they will love looking at you and therefore will probably love our latest art show entitled, Skellys hit Chelsea, long live Chelsea, Soho is dead, as you are in it ! Har! Har! Smile for the iPhone !

Woe is me. Check all the art pieces of the ghouls around me, it is embarrassing to be up here . I wanna go home...", he cried.

Old Moosey was far from thrilled, poor wee lamb, I mean moose.

At the back of my mind, I had a sneaky feeling that those Skellys were doing some more cultural infiltration so I decided to go to Chelsea for a "Reccy" ( Glaswegian for reconnaissance / check out)

It didn't take very long for me to see that those Skellys were up to no good again.

To make matters worse for the first time ever in 100 years it was a 2 page New Yorker cover

On the second page, one of the lovely, sweet boys had reached up and given Mr Atlas his red wooly scarf and wee bunnet ( that is Glaswegian for hat) to keep him warm after he got cold from finishing his globe push up exercises. Gosh, they really bonded obviously.

I didn't even think of giving Mr Atlas my scarf, just shows you that the lessons are there if you stop for a minute to consider them, all these dollars for the homeless that I give out are diddly squat compared to giving up your scarf on a cold night for an old statue , even if it is the
most famous one in the Big Apple.

Well, those two boys are good, they are obviously destined for great things and The New Yorker picked up on that, what a smart magazine it is.

The next morning I jumped out of bed, it was the best day of the week, The New Yorker day

I ran downstairs to fetch the magazine and I could not believe the cover.

Wow! There was the little boy from last night talking to Mr Atlas
and the snow was falling gently round them both.

Gosh, it seems everyone was talking about the boys, Mr Atlas, the Skellys, Jemima and Humph and the impending Skelly Revolution and golly gee my favorite mag, had picked up on it. I looked hard at the cover trying to find me, but it was just Mr Atlas and one of the lads.

Well I consoled myself with the thought that I NEARLY made the cover of The New Yorker over my boiled egg and lumpy porridge that morning.

"Well, go on then, clever clogs, spill the beans? Is there a young man today that can impress Mr Wisdom who has seen it all?", I asked Atlas.

"It is Harry Potter, you dopey lot, he has been saving the world single handedly for years in all his many adventures. Wizzy and I watch all his movies on our iPads when all the tourists are asleep in the early, early morn, we love him. If Harry can do it then these two lads should get their chance to try their hand too, perhaps they could even star in the next movie, Harry Potter and the Sleazy Skellys. It is bound to be the best one yet."

Well these brave boys should be very excited now they will be movie stars before they know it! One good deed deserves another I always say. I turned round to congratulate the boys and give them the gallery address where all the action would be, but they had gone.

No wonder, it was past 11pm, those boys must have left with their mother.

The Toy Soldiers, Atlas, Mr Wisdom, all were frozen still, the skaters were thinning out, just a few stragglers and now that bitter, relentless New York wind had really picked up.

I pulled my blue sheepskin collar tighter round my neck and despondently left the scene and all my new friends to trudge home alone, what's new.

Who, who, who?

The skaters all rushed up towards the giant tree, which is right next to Mr Wisdom's wall mural. They demanded, needed, insisted on knowing who the young hero was Mr Wisdom seemed so impressed with.

All the skaters stopped what they were doing and turned to look up at Mr Wisdom

Who, who is it? Tell us now!

Lads, lads, aren't you forgetting someone very important from this generation? Asked Mr Wisdom the giant mural over the door

Who? who? Mr Wisdom, who is the hero of the 21st century?

We young lads can save the day!

Who knocked down Goliath with only a simple stone and a sling?
Yes, our very own Sammy Samson, and he was only 9 when he did it.

What about Joseph and his coat of technicolor and his amazing dreams of 7 good years and 7 bad years?

All the Toy Soldiers are in and we have drums and guns and weapons, piped up the second soldier proudly.

Excuse me butting in on your workout,Mr Atlas,but can I say something here?

All of a sudden all the Toy Soldiers that were guarding the skating rink, were getting very excited.

Mr. Atlas, the guards are coming from inside Rock Center to see what all the ruckus is about

Look those lovely, sweet boys have offered to join us in the Fight against the Undead. If you could just stop the world push ups for a second, this is important. They are only 11 and 9, but they realize the importance of this here mission and the opportunity it offers the boys to look cool and exciting on Facebook. Will you allow them to join us? "

"Move the world to the right"

He hoisted it up on his right side.

A few people clapped, which seemed to only encourage him more.
(Ah, the male ego, never misses a chance to show off.)

Suddenly on cue,Mr Atlas started lifting his world up and down over his shoulders , I must say his breathing control was perfect, he would make a good yogi.

"And, hup, one" he breathed in his strong arms flexing.

"Hup, two." He breathed out and hoisted his world high, with an audible sigh, winking at me and smiling at the small crowd that gathered around to watch the spectacle. One little girl started crying, but the crowd hushed her.

"I will show the Skellys who is boss in this town, and ah Hup"

Mr Atlas, listen up, I have good news.

"Princess, I am getting my photo taken with those two nicely behaved boys. Can this wait ? Yes, I do work out every day mam. No, not at Equinox or NY Sports, no I do my own routine right here at my post. The world makes a great weight. I lift it up and down 50 times first thing in the morning, really gives the heart a good pump.

SP,I am busy with this nice family, don't you ever let up?".



- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

We heard about the Skelly Revolution, my brother and I are ready to sign up, we want to help.

Two lovely young lads who were standing at the base of Mr Atlas, not defacing him in any way, suddenly waved me down.

Wow, all of a sudden things were looking up.

"Can we skip school and stay up all night to protect Jemima and the other art pieces. That would make such a cool Facebook status update, all our classmates would be jealous! I do karate and my brother is a yellow belt in Judo!"

"Well we do need all the help we can get to beat those dastardly Skellys, do you think your friends would help too?"I asked the boys, "Let me ask Mr Atlas what he thinks about bringing the age range down a bit."

Wow,who is that sexpot holding up the world over there , he is hot. Oh, I do love a Manly Man

I looked up and there standing tall, dashing, refined, buff was Mr. Atlas, who guards Rock Center, day and night. He looks like the type who would not be phased by a few sexually depraved Skellys. And what a kit he has on him.

“Hey, Jimmy,( well that is what we always say in Glasgow if we address a man.) Mr. Atlas, you up there balancing the world on your shoulders, have you got a minute. (All he does is stand around all day looking fit and strong so the answer must surely be yes). Yes you, it is the SP, down here, the beautiful one, you know me, the one everyone loves.”

“No loitering in the lobby, sir. Mam, the observation deck is on the 50th floor. Hey you laddie, no drawing on my pedestal please, it is public property. Mam, can’t you control your son. Princess or whoever you are, can’t you see I am busy? I can’t take these crowds they are driving me crazy, as soon as the tree goes up my job becomes a total nightmare. You move along, young man. Yes I will be in a picture with you, of course. Jesus, this is the only fun part of my job.” Growled Mr. Atlas, and he seemed none too pleased to talk to me either.

“You are working here I thought you just stood around balancing the world and basically you were art and that was it. Poor you, you must be exhausted, can I get you a cup of tea?” I smiled endearingly, “We Princesses can do a good turn now and then for our loving and loyal subjects ,who of course go back to Grecian times.”

“Look, Missy, cut the princess gag, I see royalty all the time and famous folks and prime ministers and the whole kit and caboodle and basically they just annoy me so if you are a princess and you sure don’t look like one, save it for someone else.

I am not in the mood. Since the whole financial fiasco Bloomberg passed a decree that all the public art pieces have to actually work and do something useful and help save the city money and I got lumbered with a Security job. I get $7 an hour at least but the hours are awful, 24/7. So far I have caught some kids defacing the angels and a dog peeing on the flowers but nothing exciting, no terrorists or real action where I could show my prowess and strength off.” Mr. Atlas, moaned, pausing to wipe the sweat from his brow even though it was 27 degrees and freezing outside.

“Ahah, I said, “ I have a mission for you. You can help your fellow art exhibits in Soho, who are at risk of sexual molestation this very night. Come closer.”

I tiptoed up to him and whispered the whole Skelly Revolution story in his ear. He kept nodding and frowning and seemed very earnest until I came to the last part. “ Yes, and we must rescue them all and stop the Skellys before they take over our dear Big Apple. A guy like you is what is needed as I cannot find my Super Blue Jew anywhere, he was last spotting eating latkes and doughnuts at a Chanukah party. Are you in? “

Mr. Atlas seemed very excited at the prospect of a real project. Now all we have to do is figure out how he can leave his post, as he has not moved in about 80 years or something like that. Anyone have any ideas, please post your comments now!

I started walking and just kept going and the next thing I knew I was standing bang in front of the world famous magnificent Christmas Tree at Rock Center, 5th Ave.

It was so beautiful. My girlfriend's fiancée proposed there last week, the night before the office party. So I stood under it hoping some love vibes might come my way. The place was full of tourists, real tourists, not human prisoners with yellow star permits, like those blasted Skelly's want us to be.

I sat down and put my head in my hands? Where is the Super Blue Jew when you need him ?He rescued all the Home Depot elves who were working in the shop window as slave child labor instead of giving presents to kids. ( see the Santacon blog a few years ago, for that exciting adventure). The happy crowds thronged and milled around and took pictures, unaware of the imminent tragedy of the potential molestation of innocent art exhibits about to take place, never mind the whole Skelly Revolution, who knows where that will go.

Woe is me. Please God help me, someone , somewhere , we must stop the Undead before it is too late.

SP, come back, don't leave us with Humph gone who will save us from these horrible Skelly creatures

The girl with the octopus hat had a twin, with tree trunks sticking out of her hat this time.

The Skellys prowl around here at night when Humph is gone, they get in through the window as they are so skinny, and they make even Jemima look fat.

They cackle away, their silly bones clanking around as they get out their iPhones and take photos of the art to show their friends, tapping away messages with their teeth on their Skelly app, whoever invented that should be shot. They are all Flirty McFlirty with all us lady art pieces and make a general nuisance of themselves and none of us get a wink of sleep. Just before dawn, they slink back out the window and disappear leaving nothing but a deathly graveyard, dead bats and rats, rotten leaves kind of a foul odor , which gets up our nose all day. My poor sister can't even scratch her nose as you know. Do something SP, with Humph out who knows what kind of mischief they will be up to tonight. And they are so pushy, think they are so sexy and always sticking their bony paws up our coats, Eeuww. Yukko. Sleazos!

Wow, those poor exhibits may be manhandled tonight. I must put my thinking cap on and try and rescue them before the night comes in. And here, all I wanted was a quiet stroll around a Soho gallery this afternoon , trust me to get embroiled in another life threatening drama. I am tired of them, I just want a day to myself. No such luck it seems.

I dashed out the gallery hoping the New York streets might inspire a clever idea for some retaliation tactics.

I turned around and there was yet another Skelly art piece on the wall.

The usual skull and crossbones combo with a top hat and naked women in the background. More cliched art. Ok, the colors were pretty nice, but it was stinky none the less.

If the Skellys want some action in the art and entertainment then why not audition to be an extra in a Lord of The Rings film and leave our galleries alone.

"Skellys, your art stinks and is all copy cat. Go home to the earth and leave the New York art scene alone. Or at least try and be a bit more original." I shouted out to no one in particular as Humph was still slumped on his desk.

On that assertive I'm not afraid of you note, I stormed out the gallery, with a wave to Jemima and the gang, to indicate , Do not fear,the SP is on this Skelly situation.

Humph , Humphrey Wafflepants , wake up! You have a gallery to run, you can't just pass out like that.

I smacked him in the face a few times and finally threw some cold water over him. ( Jemima cheered at that part and the octopus gave me the thumbs up or in his case, the tentacle up).

I looked around the room and saw more hidden Skelly art pieces. They really fancied themselves something rotten.

This is the Skelly with the Andy Warhol hairdo portrait, cliched and naff, if you ask me, but that doesn't mean someone won't overpay for it, especially in Soho. It had that Robert Mapplethorpe black background and perfect framing of the face, the way he did. A direct copy if you ask me.

The Skelly was smirking away, looking very proud of itself , with it's Warhol hairdo, like it was God's gift to women. Pure ego.

I thought it was just men that had the massive ego syndrome but now I see those Skelly's are just as bad.

So they are getting ready to take over the art world are they? Well we will see about that. Those Skelly's don't scare me. I deal with them every year at Halloween time. Always fishing for a date, the sleazy bunch.

Humph beckoned me over to the back of the gallery.

"Forget about that John Lennon piece, I have something special to show you in the back room, something unique. There is a brand new art market, new artists, new collectors."

"Mexicans, Polish, Irish? it can't be the Chinese, that market is so overdone now." I leaned over to Humph, who had a strange look on his face that I could not figure out.

"Come to the back room. Come now, but be prepared for something unique. Totally unique."

I started walking over but all my friends the art exhibits, Jemima, the girl with the octopus and the octopus itself, started shaking their heads as if to say no, don't go. The octopus was waving it's tentacle in an aggressive manner and frowning more than usual.

I wonder why?

I pretended I did not see the warnings and marched into the back room and stopped short.

Something I have feared for many years had finally happened. Humph looked at me. I looked at him.

The Skellys, they are infiltrating the art world , then what next.

"How did this get here, Humph? I am sure showing the art of the undead is illegal, you are putting yourself at risk here. What does the piece mean?"

"One of the Skellys in a black cloak stormed in late at night and told me if I did not show the art , my appointment with Dr Death, would be tomorrow and he manages Dr Death's schedule and can shift things around. So I have it here and only you can see it. Can you help SP, this piece is a prototype. It is a sign that the Skellys want to post in the streets of New York. All of us are to be "tourists", they are the new locals, and we are all to have permits like yellow stars and we get fined $200 if we don't have them on us. I think they got that number from Monoply. It is pretty scary stuff. It is the Skelly Revolution! With that he passed out on his desk.

As I was walking to see Jemima, feeling fatter with every step. My eye caught John Lennon and Yoko holding up a sign,saying Art is Over.

Yet the sign was on a painting for sale for $6,000 in a trendy Soho gallery. If that is not art, then what is?

A closer look revealed the word, "here", at the bottom of the sign. Art is over, here." Cute, cheesy. Poor old John he should have been 70 this year and making music still and telling the world what to do. He would have put Osama Bin Laden in his place, no question.

During Vietnam John paid for giant billboards with anti war slogans, which were important and meaningful. He is probably turning over in his grave, with this art is over here, nonsense.

"Humph, the Jemima piece is making me feel like a hefalump, and this John piece is too trite, what else you got?".

Poor Jemima, my oh so skinny colleague at the back of the gallery

The gallery owner put her on a mastercleanse fast for 3 months and she was only allowed to sip the lemonade through a straw , one cup a day.

Every day she cried ,"Art, Art, I must do it for the Art. Maybe some wealthy trendy Soho Fashionista, will take me home and feed me. Ah how I long for a Mac and Cheese grilled to perfection under the oven or a spaghetti limon, a chocolate shake or a black sesame seed ice-cream, anything but cayenne flavored lemonade, that is why I am so thin, that blasted cayenne burnt a hole in my stomach. Sob! Sob! How is a lass to survive on 3 calories a day for 3 months. This gallery owner Humphrey Wafflepants should be arrested for cruelty to exhibits. It is an injustice so it is..."

Then Humphrey would walk over to her and prod her in the stomach,
"Jemima stop whining, enough already. I told you I want you STICK THIN, get it. The ladies that come in here pop in after shopping in Chanel, most of them are Russian models, they want an art piece that looks like them, not some dumpy girl in a blue raincoat with an octopus on her head. ( looking at me). Now drink your lemonade and quiet down you are upsetting the other exhibits.( Well, we all looked down at the ground) Be thankful you got to keep your own breasts and they weren't replaced by red eggs."
Then his iPhone 4 rang and he started laughing and guffawing in that annoying, pompous way to his art cronies, that the poor exhibits were complaining and isn't it a terrible shame.

And so she cried. Well we all gave her sympathetic looks but what could we do, we have our own jobs to look after. In this climate you have to be grateful you get any work at all.

As for me, well I am allowed to eat. I am to appeal to the podgy rich little girls that come in and Hump says someone will buy me soon. And then I will be free. At least Jemima does not have a slimy, slithery live octopus balanced on her hat. I have to stand here all day and not move a muscle in case the octopus falls off! If it falls off, even once, Humph says he is booting me out the show. I am a nervous wreck with it all. My nose tickles me all day and I can't even scratch it. I feel like I am in my own hell, the Sisyphus of the art world and all for a measly $7 an hour. It's an injustice that it is. Sob! Sniffle! Sniffle! Please would you scratch my nose."

I reached over to softly scratch her little nose, and the octopus glared at me and shifted a little on her head, almost falling off. Cripes! These poor exhibits have it tough. Someone should report this Ne'er Do Well Hump character for cruelty to exhibits , he is probably selling their breasts and body parts too, what a fiend.

Humph glanced up from his IPad and gave me an icy glare.

"Please do not touch the exhibits , any breakages must be paid for. Hey, aren't you the girl who never paid for the Porridge Chair , over in Chelsea, there is a Wanted Notice out for you in the art world."

"Nah, that wasn't me, that girl left to Scotland over Thanksgiving , I don't think she is coming back. How much for that fabulous Skinny Exhibit Doll with the white hair, if only I could be as thin as her,she is gorgeous!"

"Ah, you must mean Jemima. Please come and take a look. She took months to perfect, the Italian artist just won a prize at Art Basel for her, she is my treasure , what a good eye you have."

I winked over at the Octopus girl, who gave me a teeny, weeny smile with the corners of the mouth, whilst hardly moving an inch. The octopus gave me another steely, cold stare, and then walked over to see Jemima with Humph, who had suddenly become charm himself and would not stop talking about all the awards and accolades, rave reviews for the ground breaking Jemima piece.

"This is the way women dream of looking but daren't admit it." He droned on.

Now Space Cat Woman Doll I like!

She is more my type of gal.

Well if this is beauty, I got to slim down - a lot.

Oh dear, better go easy on the spaghetti limon at Franx. Now I am really depressed. I thought this show would cheer me up, fat chance. Fat being the operative word.

Lovely red egg breasts

I guess normal old breasts are passé in the art world.

Interesting Marilyn Monroe with Mickey Mouse boobs

There must be some message for me here. I need to let my boobs be more playful perhaps! Find a groovy bra to attract Mr Right?

Hmmm... This whole finding a date for Halloween is proving pretty challenging

I don't know why it is so tough every single year. I am fed up with it. I need a nice normal alive guy not one of those undead ghouls or IPhone Teeth Tapping Skelly Monsters from the Sag Harbor Whaling Museum Haunted House.

To take my mind off things I decided to wander into a trendy Soho Gallery on Greene Street, to see if I could find some solace and peace.