Abergavenny Dental UFO

This is an extract from a book I found, lying on the floor of the gents lav near the shotty in Builth, I can't stop looking at it so hope you enjoy it too:

The circles intersecting the central concepts of Abergavenny, as defined by Bobbl Lozenge/Hors are defined as I AM THAT I AM = 543, or rather 79 teeth.

Worth noting here its Eoers….soor the 3.1x4…..another hint here towards pointing at pointy triangles.

Tiths nuematria ‘Jerical value ching Gaseus’ pitches in with the 345 triple leg. Banny debated this series of levers via a heated exchange in Abergavenny Waitrose laiyek, but conceded the  hairshapes/trinity /triangle could also mean the Chsatiaracter’ rather than a symbolic ‘nuistigumical shafty'.

8re is another pointer towards the greater realimctionirror of Moer8 and has been associated with Godel, and noted in works by other researchers. This gives us two sides of the 3, 4 , 5.

WASTAGAVENNY = You have known, you have understood
SHPLEEMG = 1184 as the Gemarchatria value

Builth caravan rubber owl triangles

Last week I paid another visit to The Banners in Builth, but when I got to hes caravan I discovered the whole outer shell covered with a lime green rubber/butter, which was being meticulously pecked at BY OWLS. I was outraged by this shocking spectacle, and became so angry I inadvertently twitched a small egg from my pocket, losing it immediately via a very small howell in the growend.

Whilst my eyes looked at the sticky van with owls, a dirty old man came shuffling up behind me, shouting something about triangles and reeking of stale kebs.

I turned to look at the shuffling, disgusting, filthy old man instead of the rubbery, owl laden van and realised my folly. This was no shuffling, disgusting, filthy old man. The shuffling, disgusting, filthy old man was actually the person I was there to visit, The Banners.

"Good grief wass 'appened to yous laiyek?" I muttered.

The Banners seemed unable to free himself from his world of triangles, but did manage, through a salivary mouthpiece, to slur the words "hess ayeter hess mind enut laiyek".

Pushing aside owls we thrusted our way into the caravan, carefully squeezing through the rubber-restricted doorway, getting my leg stuck around the back, before ducking inside and entering the cramped interior. Inside we found

Banners half grand

I popped o'er thrid mountains laiyek, up to Builth is it to visit The Banners last week as I'd heard he had some special news for me regarding the council's handling of local UFO reports. However when I reached his caravan he wasn't there and aside from a rubbery residue coating the lever on the rud, which appeared to possess a life of it's own, his site was deserted.

I could hear a bangen sound in the distance, followed by whoops of laughter which sounded strangely familiar so decided to head towards it, following my usual triangular discourse, and avoiding right angles. When I got to the stream I could see thab waster bangen on a gas canister laiyek.

'Good afternoon?' I enquired, 'I was wondering if you were free for a short discourse to provide a status update on how the council are handling the Radnor Forest UFO reports?'. There followed more cackling and banging of the cannister, and then he replied 'Ee hess god harf a grand laiyek from der social enut HAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAR'

Realising it would be a folly to persue our pre-arranged meeting, I decided to follow the triangles back to the caravan, bisecting my original path with an awkward dog-leg transient which meant I had to crouch uncomfortably under the low bough of a tree, into a very cramped cupboard inside him. I paused for a while here, with the sound of bangen in the distance, becoming gently over-excited rubber UFO cone council rodney graham norton

Waste Pipe

Baileys Space Castle

Intergalactic electronic communication transmitted via the ether's, translated into geometric sound waves via the UMMU audio generators.

Danny Baker's Cascob Owl Fury

I was walken down o'er thrid towards Cascob like, along dat UFO road with the owls. You know the one, the one with the owls. Anyway's, I was walken down this road and it was getten dark like, and I'm not afraid to tell you that I was getten a bit scared like. All those funny owls looking at me, and then there's the UFO thing around the Radnor Forest...proper scary like.

I'm not sure how I got on that road as the last thing I could remember was being at the Swan in Kington. I'd had a few ciders laiyek and been deep in conversation with local baker Danny Baker. He was in a right old state like and really goin on about owls and Cascob and triangles and Radnor pyramids all that stuff that makes my head go funny if I think about it for too long.

Forget about that though, I'm tellen ye about the owl road, the one that leads to Cascob along the ole ridge. After a couple of miles I spotted a weird thing in the hedge. Like a cross between a small car and a big egg shaped thing. It looked a bit battered and wasted, like me LMFAO, and I stood and looked at him for a bit. I kept looking, and after I'd plucked up the courage, I went and rubbed it for a bit. It felt like a sort of wet rubber. I lifted the big flap thing on the front, and by squeezing into the front section, and ducking my head in I could just about reach the centre if I bent my leg around. Inside was a photo of Banny and a series of levers and complicated sums.

I was just getten comfy when I heard someone outside SHOUTEN AT THE RUBBER EGG at which point I forgot everything

I keep looking at an owl

 I was on my way home on the bus like, gummen back from Builth o'er thrid after visiting thab waster Carl enut, when I spotted an owl outside. He/she was desperately trying to keep up the the bus, flappin hess wings in a demented way until he was shrouded by rubbery trees and shaken from my view. When I got home I pulled out my 'Owls of Radnorshire' guide and there he was - this big ole boy callet 'The Cascob Shaker'. I looked at his photo, and it felt like he was looken at me.

I shut the book and went into my old cupboard/pantry out the back to see if I had any booze. The door doesn't fully open so I have to jamb it as far as he'll go, then squeeze myself in sideways, whilst ducking my head below the triangular shelf at the top. It means my leg is at a funny angle but if you get it just right you can get in and out again without rubbing. I've asked the council to sort it out but they arn listenin.

Anyway I foun a bottil of ole Wiggers cider from the Kington Spar and necked that for a bit. The rubbery residue danced on my tongue like Drummonds dandruff, and charged me with special UFO magic. Fortified, I crept back into the living room and was terrified to see the book open on the floor, The Cascob Shaker staren up at me with a look of disgust on his feathery little face. I can't stop looking at him, and I'm getting really over-excited horses Danny Baker triangles levers rubbed down with leaves by the Evancoyd WI stop it

Wibbly was rayet

I visited Romany 'Banny' Barnard down at his caravan in Builth last week, as he was having a special offer on his painted 'Eggworld' tins. In between mouthfuls of 'Larabum Pie', and careful to avoid the crumb laden spray from said pie, he tole me about 'thab aliens on der telly enut'.

In fact he's started writing a book about his suspicions, focussing on the changing shapes of Soap Celebrity, and their alien shape-shifting properties. Titled 'Wibbly was rayet', it's going to be a lavishly illustrated delight.

'Id ayent rayet' he tole me, 'thab aliens gumminaget poor ole Banny enut like'. After sharing some dubious looking 'cider', and getting a headache from his barking dogs I made my excuses to leave. His caravan was a jumble of broken computers, metal frames and giant wooden triangles and squeezing my way through them was difficult. I had to duck under a giant rubber octogram decorated with leaves, getting my leg around the back angle before painfully edging though the small gap at the bottom.

On my return to Kington I spoke at length with the council, warning them about theb shape shifting aliens getting over-excited enut

Cascob Bucket Alien

"I pud im in thad bucket look"

I was standing at the entrance to 'Rubber' Dennis Jones' barn, over Cascob way. Everything smelled of cow, but that was probably because of the cows. He'd sent me an 'electronic message' to my phone see as he knew I was into these UFO's, and tole me "I found an alien look up at top field like, so you better come down 'ere and look at thisun".

 Off I went, and so here I am on a cold, wet, night standing by a barn instead of in front of the telley, or getting cidered up at The Swan.

Anyway, I thought I'd better get on with it. I stepped into the barn, which was badly lit, but still enough light so I could still see THE THING in the bucket. It's hard to describe and I'm a man of few numbers but I'll do my best. In the bucket before me I could see what looked like a pile of dark, green jelly triangles, covered in wee. At first I thought it was some old farmers dinner, or a bit of left over agricultural geometry but as I got closer I swear the blummen thing moved like.

 I'd like to say I stayed and investigated the matter in a full and professional manner. Instead I became over-excited and ran down the lane away from that TERRIBLE THING before coming into contact with a series of fences and gates, which slowed me down as I had to bend under into the small holes and get my arm twisted back, restricting my breathing slightly, so I could squeeze underneath and back on the road up to Beggars Bush. I tole the council about it but they weren't interested......AS USUAL.

Lou Grant is being replaced by Des Desmond

I've been researching the legend of the local pie-shaped UFO, via the Kington bopper brigade - old retired teachers and kernels who are now highly respectacled members of the local council chamber of things.

One such rebel has furnished me with drink and whispered half-told stories about 'Rubber Dave' the marathon man who rode a horse through town once. Apparently he was not averse to 'cooking up the pies' and sending them on their way to the stars.

The rebel took me to a quiet back street, behind the shops in Kington, and by squeezing into a very narrow crack in the wall, and bending my leg up the back so I could push my frame into the gap, I was able to observe the ceremony of behave

Bill Drummonds lub ole ironum

I had an idea that all the horses on this website were going to be replaced by tiny pieces of paper with joined-up writing on them. Boppers would descend upon these little treasures as if witnessing Nortons Chococalte Delight. Or Robby Wlilliams watchen a UFO like. Or Bill Drummonds lub ole ironum. Or Danny Bakers lovely spume.

Anyway up we went inside the triangle, right up to the top of the clock tower only delayed slightly by having to climb through the very narrow opening at the bit next to the levers, where I had to angle my leg past the thing, then crouch under the retention beam before dislocating my back feature allowing me to manoever sideways into a space smaller than a vicars residue.

It was worth it though.

Walken Der Dog

What weeenat and golds theart magic grend the anciensecn to Leonians? Why were they for, plaet knowly be a keere realy to na Viato? Keplto aure and lbidden to reveal it? Can threife itself?

Moo Cows A Gummen

Moo Cows A Gummen, a ned for our netoew track destineet CD/UFO. Lyrics and vocarl Baals by Crnard Msc. Triangle magic stench via gasses with Joel Groun levers.

The Fontana Cafe - The Oracle Speaks

The Oracle speaks - lalamulla - lalaboo: drifting cosmic waves of leyline guitar dreams atop a thumping rub a thump electronic plinth. Track 1 from 2010's The Fontana Cafe CD featuring Carl Barnard as 'The Oracle'.

Carl Barnard - Nam Lamba

Carl Barnard, occasional member of Mind Flight performs the track 'Nam Lamba', recorded in Builth Wells from his new solo album 'Moo cows 'a gummin'