Poor Mandy had to work today (the price of freelancing - if the client wants the work next week, they get it next week) so I took the smalls out of the house to give her some peace to crack on. With rain threatened, the obvious thing to do is to head for Glasgow and the parentals, killing two Brownie-point birds with the same stone.
First though, we popped into the Gallery of Modern Art because I remembered it as a place with lots of funny conterporary art that kids would probably like. How wrong. Instead, the whole ground floor had been given over to a piss poor video installation that ever so slowly panned across a line of twenty-something Gap faces that were being presented as The Future. As well as not looking unwashed and slack-jawed, there was no evidence that, like the current crop of yoof, they also couldn't punctuate or construct a sentence without lapsing in2 txt spk. They were about as Future as Tomorrow's World.
Still, there's an Apple Store in Glasgow, which does a much better impression of Tomorrow's World (and a large part of today's). It was visited and from it some small (and not so small) items of technology were legally removed. Least said the better.
And on to the parentals, where the highlight, if you can call it that, was examining the spray pattern of the blood that the dog had created with its damaged tail. No idea how it did the damage (and it didn't seem serious) but Grisson would have loved it.
Anyway, here's a rather poor photo of Ellen enjoying the most enjoyable of GOMA's rubbish exhibits. A stream of text running up the wall in a pink room. She likes pink. Much to Mandy's annoyance.