This is my second post about our house. Those of you who were old Back of Buggery fans would also have seen this, but I really, really wanted to include it in this blog. With added haiku this time.
The front of our hundred+ year old cottage is cladded with fake wood. The creators of this fake wood cladding have mostly done a fantastic job of replicating the appearance of wood grain. Except for this part here:
… a different kind of wood grain.
Yes. If you were to come over to our house for a nice cup of tea, you would be greeted by this before you managed to knock on the door. Classy.
My partner and I both agree that this can only be the handiwork of a disgruntled employee. It’s kind of cool to think that in the 1800′s, there was some bloke feeling a bit of rebellion.
In honour of this person, whoever they were, I’ve decided to attempt to recreate his thoughts in the form of haiku:
May your penis be
As small in size as the wage
You pay me each week.
In case that didn’t float your boat, I have another:
This would be my boss
If the picture here had ears
I fucking well quit.
I hope you enjoyed this culmination of the arts: poetry, photography… ah, I’m so cultured.
I’ve just edited this add: I ended up looking at all of the cladding on our house, and it appears that this picture is repeated as a pattern everywhere. I don’t know what is more sad; that I was bored enough to check my house for penis images, or that I found my house covered in them.



