After a long absence...
Well - it's been a long time since my last post. What did you do during that period? Did you stare gormlessly at the screen, pressing the refresh button every couple of seconds, hoping beyond hope for a new update? Did you weep with boredom? Scream with rage? Laugh deliriously, as your patience and your sanity slipped beyond your grasp? No, of course you didn't. But in some small way, this blog is playing with your mind: otherwise, why are you here? Come on, admit it: you're interested in what I have to say! Which is, in itself a sort of miracle - since I have nothing to say.
Yes! I mean that literally: nothing to say. Three weeks ago, I decided to update the blog. I sat down, but couldn't think of anything to write. And I continued in this vein for the next three weeks - which compounded the problem really, as all the time spent at the computer prevented me from going out and having some experiences, which I could then have recorded on the blog. So, while you haven't been mindlessly staring at the screen for three weeks - I have! My determination to record my life has prevented me from leading one.
But I exaggerate. After hospitalising my friend Derek (see last post), I found myself being interviewed by the police. 'Why did you attack that man?', they said. Of course, I was tempted to deny it, but Derek's a fastitious man, and he had CCTV installed in the living room after that trouble with the poltergeist. So I couldn't really invent an alibi, as they'd seen the footage of me wielding the lampshade like a cudgel. Of course the real reason I did it was out of disgust at Derek's hard-drinking lifestyle - but I was a bit reluctant to admit it, as I'd only look like a sour-faced moral puritian (as well as violent and with no respect for home-furnishings). But since it was my only excuse, I blurted it out anyway, and it met with a strangely favourable reaction. 'We could do with a man like you,' one policeman said. 'We need people of strong moral standing, who aren't afraid to use violence for the greater good'.
This was a rather strange turn of events, but not an unwelcome one. And to celebrate my scott-free escape and Derek's discharge, we went out for a few drinks. Derek clearly learnt his lesson, sticking heroically to the lemonade. And he was even good enough to bundle me into a cab after I'd downed one too many vodka twists and embarrassingly fallen over the bar and got my face wedged between the beer pumps. What a true friend!
Well - it's been a long time since my last post. What did you do during that period? Did you stare gormlessly at the screen, pressing the refresh button every couple of seconds, hoping beyond hope for a new update? Did you weep with boredom? Scream with rage? Laugh deliriously, as your patience and your sanity slipped beyond your grasp? No, of course you didn't. But in some small way, this blog is playing with your mind: otherwise, why are you here? Come on, admit it: you're interested in what I have to say! Which is, in itself a sort of miracle - since I have nothing to say.
Yes! I mean that literally: nothing to say. Three weeks ago, I decided to update the blog. I sat down, but couldn't think of anything to write. And I continued in this vein for the next three weeks - which compounded the problem really, as all the time spent at the computer prevented me from going out and having some experiences, which I could then have recorded on the blog. So, while you haven't been mindlessly staring at the screen for three weeks - I have! My determination to record my life has prevented me from leading one.
But I exaggerate. After hospitalising my friend Derek (see last post), I found myself being interviewed by the police. 'Why did you attack that man?', they said. Of course, I was tempted to deny it, but Derek's a fastitious man, and he had CCTV installed in the living room after that trouble with the poltergeist. So I couldn't really invent an alibi, as they'd seen the footage of me wielding the lampshade like a cudgel. Of course the real reason I did it was out of disgust at Derek's hard-drinking lifestyle - but I was a bit reluctant to admit it, as I'd only look like a sour-faced moral puritian (as well as violent and with no respect for home-furnishings). But since it was my only excuse, I blurted it out anyway, and it met with a strangely favourable reaction. 'We could do with a man like you,' one policeman said. 'We need people of strong moral standing, who aren't afraid to use violence for the greater good'.
This was a rather strange turn of events, but not an unwelcome one. And to celebrate my scott-free escape and Derek's discharge, we went out for a few drinks. Derek clearly learnt his lesson, sticking heroically to the lemonade. And he was even good enough to bundle me into a cab after I'd downed one too many vodka twists and embarrassingly fallen over the bar and got my face wedged between the beer pumps. What a true friend!
posted by dadfield | 2:05 PM
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