Underedited Cookie

We also discussed my options for the permanent solution I've been dreaming of for more than 15 years. When I kiss I think about it. It's there and I'm hating it. And how do I break the news to potential boyfriends? I'm feeling extremely low today. I guess we do spend too much time together and he doesn't get enough time alone. I'm beginning to think I am not an optimist after all. I don't like people being in love with me. I'll sit and think some more and then when I've thunk enough, I'll not do anything.


Landlord got home last night and worked on his bike. I'm not sure how to feel. When you are very young, seeing your mother in ANY kind of discomfort is extremely distressing. When I wrote that blog entry, all I could see was the devastation I felt, I was just in free-fall and when things are like that, you cannot focus, you cannot decide what is important and what is just being emotional, what is relevant, what is irrelevant. Can I visit him in S. America? Does he want me to support him financially when he gets back until he finds a job?


Whenever we've been out on our bikes, the elation is immense and when I say "I really enjoyed that cycle ride" he is never quite sure I'm being serious. I don't really know where to start. Take this weekend. I went to sleep easily and in good mood but I woke up in the night and my tooth was agony. I decided I was going to keep looking for trousers until I find a pair that fit. I wrote of Noam Chomsky and Nim Chimpsky (the former a philosopher and professor of linguistics, the latter a laboratory chimp taught sign language).


I didn't mention him in my essay but I remember my dog was very good with language. Or maybe my eyes are like saucers. So why was I nervous? I enjoyed the starters, I really enjoyed the crispy duck but by the main course the whole thing was getting tedious. And this is why, dear reader, I went swimming on Tuesday for the first time in years and I didn't die of shame, after all.


Gorgeous Landlord was out last night. I was riding his spare touring bike. Now I can't say whether he is innocent or whether he is guilty, but I have to say I'm not surprised, given where he's chosen to live. I think he fails to understand that blogs, being so personal are probably THE best way of getting to know people.


Oh dear, I keep writing these blog entries that don't go anywhere and are just a stream of consciousness. I wish I knew what my point was before I started.
22.4.06 05:54


SoBoring

Grr! I'm even skinter than I was last week, which is why I've only saved £993 out of a targetted £1,000 since Tuesday. In order to get back on track, today I shall make a to-do list of all the things I need to do today. Top of the list will be to do to-do lists for this morning, this afternoon, this evening and last night.


To make sure I don't slack off, for each item I don't accomplish I have to spend 50p on activities with no tangible long-term benefit, or as Mr PA (Pointless Acronym) likes to call it, "having fun". Then I shall check my current account, savings account and ISA online, do a comparison of my future income streams with my outgoings, and if the result is favourable I shall treat myself to home-made asparagus soup for dinner, washed down with a cool, refreshing glass of tap water.


Mr PA interrupted my reading of Which Bathroom Tiling Putty and Grouter today to jokingly tell me that I remind him of a girl he knew in school, who whenever the teacher asked the class a question, would raise her hand as high as she could without getting out of her seat and say "me sir! me! pick me! I know the answer sir!".


Well, to some people I might come across as joyless, worthy and dull, but those who know me know that there is one thing that makes me undoubtedly, unfeasibly, unspeakably excited, and that's a life of frugality and cautious investment interspersed with occasional, moderate expenditure on gym memberships and tasteful wine selections as offered by broadsheet newspapers. And I want to give my readers the opportunity to share in that life.


Have a good weekend folks.


p.s. quick reminder - it's worth exercising caution while handling tropical bats. They may be carrying rabies. Also, before you take part in any risky sport - cricket for example - make sure you shop around for insurance. Finally, if you think it's going to rain this weekend, consider wearing a raincoat, or staying indoors. Otherwise, you run the risk of getting wet.


p.p.s. one more thing - never set fire to your hair, no matter how much fun it seems, without shopping around for insurance first.
1.4.06 01:32


100% spamming, 24/7 of the time!

If you or a loved one is facing criminal charges in Miami, you should ask yourself: "What sort of fucked-up family am I in, anyway?" You need an experienced criminal defense lawyer on your side, but let's face it - if you're stupid enough to source one from a spam blog on the Internet, you deserve whatever punishment the Florida courts throw at you, you cretin.


Being charged with any criminal offense is a frightening experience, almost as bad as when someone sneaks up behind you and yells "BOO!". You need to know your rights under the law and act to protect them immediately-before memories fade, evidence is lost, or witnesses "disappear", wink wink, ha ha. Don't wait to get help. The longer your criminal defense lawyer has before trial, the more likely he is to forget what you were charged with.


Mr. Spammerstein is a former Assistant Public Defender who was sacked for blogging at work and now devotes his practice exclusively to criminal defense with a strong emphasis on annoying 20six users. As a criminal defense lawyer, his philosophy is grounded in the strong belief that fairies live at the bottom of his garden. He also likes talking about himself in the third person a lot.


Mr. Spammerstein looks forward to each new case as a pigeon looks forward to each new statue. Call him today, or visit his website, or simply wait five minutes for him to repost this.


The hiring of a criminal defense lawyer is an important decision that should not be based solely upon advertisements and endless repeated blog postings. Before you decide, ask us to send you information about our qualifications and experience, our taste in home furnishings and our secret favourite to win Celebrity Big Brother. This web site is designed for general information and mass irritation only.
23.1.06 07:44


Shutupman

Radio 4 on this morning when I get up. OS (Old Sponger) is making grunting noises in the Parasite Flat. I crawl into the kitchen and make coffee whilst hiding in the cupboard so the old bat can't hear me.


Once again I have been unable to sleep, and wonder if giving up the booze was worth it?. It wasn't really a problem, just a few bottles of Stella and a litre or so of red each evening just to help me nod off. But I don't really need the booze anymore, as proven by the fact that I mention in every post I write that I don't really need it anymore, so you can tell that I don't need it anymore, and in fact don't even think about it anymore, even when I have a drink just to prove that I don't need it anymore. D'you hear me? I don't really need it or think about it anymore!


Anyway, some good news in the inbox this morning: an important client in the Outer Hebrides has signed me up for a morning's work (all expenses paid, naturally). They want me to explain my leadership vision as set out in my award-winning book "How To Succeed In Business Without Really Trying But With A Lot Of Consultants". Bloggers can get a sneak preview of the key points this Thursday morning on BBC Radio Humber's "Business Bluster" show between 4.23 and 4.24am.


My morning omelette consumed (feta cheese and mushroom with a splash of cream), I foolishly imagine I'm safe from interruptions, but OS oofs into the kitchen before I can dive to safety. "Good morning," she says. Is the woman trying to drive me mad?


(Well yes, she is. When she was 'out shopping' yesterday I went into the Parasite Flat to illegally look through her post check for dirty dishes. I found - of course! - a copy of "Institutionalising Your Grown Son For Dummies" sitting on the table, as well as a fully-filled-out subscription form for You Can't Take It With You monthly.) Her destruction of my beautiful Parasite Flat continues apace - as you can see in this photo of her kitchen, the OS is not one for using a mop:



I wish I could call Social Services, or throw her out of my house, or exert my rights in any way whatsoever, but for all sorts of reasons - most of them no doubt involving the Family Law Association and the Wimmins Rites movement - I will never explain why I cannot.
29.12.05 08:49


Digital Phlegm

I had a terrifying moment yesterday.


 


It is said that, on this long journey of self-awareness we call Blogging, that even the most devoted LIFE-RECORDER (for that is what I think of blogging - we record the experiences we have while riding on that great and terrifying roller coaster of Life!) will occasionally stumble during their travels on the path to enlightenment. That, despite all our innermost wishes and kind thoughts, the great goddess Inspiration may, occasionally, take Her coffee break and leave us to flounder in a sea of unfocused FAITH, with nothing to relate - not an amusing tale, nor a thought-provoking anecdote, nor heartfelt words of wisdom - to the many and good people who read one of our five or six blogs.


 


I, however, did not expect this to happen to me.


 


I have many Life Experiences to write about.


I have many blogs in which to write them.


I use italics a great deal. A great deal.


And yet....





My Muse would not come.


 


I confess, now, that a terrible RAGE overtook me when I sat down at my computer and tried to write, but found my thoughts confused and scattered, like leaves on a breezy fall day with a few scattered clouds in the sky. I was one of those clouds, floating and aimless; yet I yearned, just this once, to be like a stone on the earth - immobile and unchanging, with a dependably long and heartfelt entry to record.


 


But then the clouds, as they so often seem to at these moments, PARTED.


 


Out of the corner of my eye, I saw my Muse, and She was winking at me.


 


I think it was one of the defining experiences of my LIFE, because at that moment I not only felt an overwhelming and all-consuming rush of Power, but I swooned and fell headlong into the ONENESS of EVERYTHING, where the Karma is always good....


 


And I asked myself, “What is this writer’s block? Is it a terminal condition, or merely a brief comfort stop on the Highway of Existence?”





And after I sat down and wrote about my turmoil….


After I explored my innermost feelings….


 


I wrote about them in italics, 377 seemingly meaningless words.


 


And I felt REBORN.


________________
11.4.05 09:21


Looper Luda not so new shoes

Boys just don't understand shoes. Take my man (MM), for example (no, please - take him! ha ha). I was explaining to MM, as we watched "Celebs Unzipped - the Bottom of the Barrel  Special" on ITV33, that shoes aren't just things you wear on your feet. They're objects of endless fascination to all women. Right girls?

I was going to buy 12 pairs of shoes yesterday, but I only had enough money for 3. I hate being skint. Oh well! The bitch girl from hell who sits opposite me in the office (TBGFHWSOMITO) came into work in the same pair of shoes I got tired of two weeks ago, which really brightened up my day. TBGFHWSOMITO clearly knows as little about shoes as boys - MM, for example.

Speaking of MM, I'm pretty sure his mate Dazzingly Witty and Handsome Boy (DWAHB) fancies me. I met MM after work for Crantinis at Bar Chi Chi the other night, and DWAHB was with him. While MM was distracted by some kind of avant-garde dancing being shown on the TV ("football," he called it - don't ask me!), DWAHB looked longingly, for at least three seconds, at my shoes.

[They were pink, with the most fabulous fluted heels].

My heart flipped a pirouette as I realised the dilemma I was in. It's not easy being a modern woman - always decisions to be made, and no one to make them for you.

Should I blog about shoes, or boys, or both?

What do you think, readers? Let me know in 50,000 comments or more.
10.12.04 15:38


Booble



Buon apetito! That's Italian for Enjoy the Meal! I know this, because I'm half Italian, half Swedish and two thirds Everythingelseian. Later I'm going to talk about foreign food, but first I'm going to talk at length about myself.

I like to think I bring an exotic eclecticism to the dreary, parochial world of 20six.co.uk. I think that too many people these days ignore their roots and neglect their rich cultural heritage - but that's easy for me to say, I'm Italian! Or should I say, Quello è facile affinchè me dica!* What if you don't have the continental elan, the multicutural verve, the quintessential glamour that being half Swedish, three quarters Italian and 90% self-absorbed confers? What if you're more pease pudding than prosciutto, more jelly-botty than Botticelli?

Well, one thing you can do is read my blog. As we say in Italy, bello è come bello bloggi (handsome is as handsome blogs). But let's assume everyone does that anyway. Well, you could call yourself a photographer, put your portfolio on the internet and wait for the adorations to roll in. Even if your photos aren't particularly remarkable, there will always be people who will drool over them, either because (a) they haven't seen any other photos, or (b) they want you to tell them the same thing about their photos.
If you have a blog of your own, a handy rule of thumb is to write at least one entry in two about foreign countries, or photography. Whatever your subject, tally up the instances of insight, originality and humour, and compare to the Mail on Sunday Travel supplement (MOST). If your score is higher than MOST, edit out any interesting parts, and publish for the world (about 20 readers) to admire.

Felice Anno Nuovo! That's Italian for Happy New Year! It's not new year right now, and therefore irrelevant, but it was Italian so I said it anyway. I was going to talk about Italian food, but I'm too hungry - maybe I'll have a chip butty, and then go and comment on every other blog I can find. I'm not going to read any of them, just repeat the above in the comments box, just in case anyone's forgotten that I'm half Italian. Did I mention that I'm half Italian? I did? Oh well.

*No, I shouldn't.
10.12.04 00:04


Get a life - be someone.

As a well-known freelance journalist (but really just an ordinary bloke, as ordinary as a bloke can be), I am often asked "what do you look like posing in Raybans at the wheel of a borrowed sports car?" In answer, I explain that I have seen the horrors of American imperialism first-hand, when I was lucky enough to be granted top-level intelligence clearance and the keys to a throbbing jet-fighter, in which I flew direct from my rural English retreat to Basra (a city in Iraq). My ground-breaking expose of American soldiers openly carrying firearms was scheduled to run on every page of every newspaper in the world, but thanks to a last-minute cover-up by the CIA, MI5, KGB and MFI was suppressed, appearing only in that fearless and esteemed organ, the Newsletter of the Hong Kong Government Workers Union.

As a famous freelance accidental journalist, who is nonetheless just an ordinary bloke - like you, but famous and multi-talented - I am often asked "Where can I read your fearless, incisive reportage without being a member of the Hong Kong Government Workers Union?" My answer is simple - on my weblog (or "blog" as those of us in the know call it!) I started my blog so that blokes, and blokesses, as ordinary as I am would have the opportunity to admire my work, and tell me just what I was doing right. Because one thing I believe is that journalism, and specifically freelance journalism, especially about myself, aeroplanes and up and coming actresses, is an art form. I've been told I have a gift for writing about myself, and I believe that I have a moral duty to share that gift. Copyright permitting.

It's often said that I lead the kind of life that most ordinary blokes can only dream of. I have lots of gadgets, and can usually borrow a sports car if I feel the urge. It's an unconventional life, but then, convention's never been my strong point. I'm just an ordinary, unconventional bloke, leading the life of an unconventional, ordinary, successful freelance journalist, who likes to dress up as a soldier and post photographs of himself on the internet. This is my story.
3.11.04 14:47