Q : Where is MySpace?
A : Between MyEars.
Today I realised that I have completely dried up (again) and need to take another blog holiday. I outline my reasons below:-
1. I lay in bed for two hours this morning after I woke up unable to decide whether to have Vegemite or strawberry jam on toast for breakfast and struggling to recall if I used the last of the milk last night in my Green & Black’s Organic chocolate drinking frenzy.
2. I received a phone call from my niece Ms Ruben in
3. I opened an email from our MySpace guru Ms Viv with yet more gruelling inquiries. Musical influences? Does pink tulle and black eyeliner count? What instrument did I play? Stylophone rings a bell for some reason or it could have been NHS specs. It was always so dark in the 80s, who’s going to be able to bring that kind of detail to mind? Someone must be able to locate some CCTV footage, surely.
4. I am completely unable to get excited about Robbie Williams going into rehab, even though the prospect of him now having to beg to get back into Take That seems inevitable. There was a time when I would not have been able to stop writing about such a gem but at the moment I’d rather design an ad for Skodas (in black and white and actually moving) than contemplate the self-inflicted ruination of a world-class twat.
I received the new knobs for my hob today (hob knobs as it were), and they don’t fit. Of course they don’t fit. Why would they? What would be the point of that? I knew they wouldn’t fit, even though, incredibly, I still had all the original paperwork with the 115 different 60 digit serial numbers that Brenda at the call centre insisted I sound out clearly and distinctly in my best ‘speaking clock’ voice so that she could efficiently type them into her little order template and whiz that off to dispatch where it could be winged to me like some culinary dark victory in three to five working days.
Marvellous. But my new hob knobs do not fit. They do, however, work so I have decided that is good enough. The two concepts are not mutually exclusive. They do sit on the sticky-uppy bit that engages the hotplate. They just don’t slide down it. They do make the hotplates functional. With all four hotplates fully operational again, I can fashion mash with my comically shaped Abel & Cole potatoes to go on the Sosmix bolognaise sauce I made yesterday to produce a lovely vegetarian shepherd’s pie, blanch some spinach and tie-die towels in two different colours. It really doesn’t matter if they look more like mushrooms than hob knobs.
Novel situation report : After last week’s unscheduled massacre, I am on Draft 4 in which 82,992 words survived. Some of these are quite poorly so expect further casualties.
Action Plan : After much contemplation and close examination of EU human rights legislation, I have decided to kill a character for no reason. I bumped off two earlier on but qualified their demise. The master on pointless, gratuitous deaths in fiction as far as I’m concerned is Magnus Mills and I have reread bits of all his books this week to put me in the mood. I’ve also been reading David Nicholls’ Starter For Ten. Although no one has died so far, you get the feeling an innocent could get hit by a frozen moment at any time and buy it, big style. I have seen The Day After Tomorrow so I know these competitions are not just about general knowledge.
Bottom line : I’ll be blogging less often. I’ll probably stay off for a week to get this poor sod killed off humanely and cover my tracks.
Last word :
Morgan Stanley : I take it I was too old, too slow and too female.
Abel & Cole : I so love you guys but what about ‘Jerusalem artichoke is my favourite vegetable’ is not clear? Come on the season will be over before you know it.
Ms Ruben : Sorry – my favourite colour is pink, no green, no pink and green, no, actually it’s black. What do you mean that’s not a colour?
Ms Viv : I was joking. Really, my musical influences are Todd Rundgren, ... no seriously… Viv?
Lovely cartoon from www.savagechickens.com