Friday, September 15, 2006

Part 2: Ska alla med? Imorgon avgör du!

Greetings -

I worked out how to link - how silly of me - so as a test run, have a butchers at this curiosity. Think he's Swedish, blogs day and night and with great vigour and frequent exclamation marks, but nobody ever comments. There was one line of English which tickled me pink - something about Red Hot chilli Peppers. In short, I know how to link, seems I'm a little xenophobic, and I can't guarantee I won't use my powers of linkage for evil instead of good. Ha ha, how saucy of me.

GT xx

"Dagens låt: Red Hot Chili Peppers - Death of a Martian"

Rabbit, Run

"You're so money and you don't even know it! "

I certainly am. My long absence was due to a prolonged illness. Gout. No, rheumatism. Actually if we're going to get all technical about whether something is "true" or "false", I'd have to admit that I wasn't ill, it's because I have nothing of any real value or insight to say to anybody. But then in the depths of my self-doubt and existential trauma I looked around at other blogs, was vigorously and thoroughly disappointed and cheerily concluded that no-one has anything to say in them, either.

I send this out into the cosmos in the hopes that Stigmund and Jimlad will read it, and think a little about Goodthink, and maybe leave a charity comment and maybe even some spare change for a bottle of Buckfast and the Herald. Will blog for food!


Going to try this Stigmund stylee - saw a movie Sunday last - Adrift* - excellent stuff. Mmm-hmm. As for the plot twist and the exciting narrative, let's just say, I'll never again get on a yacht with my five friends and a baby, and we all get in the water and no one puts the ladder down, and eventually we all die under horrific circumstances, notably a skull fracture, hypothermia and a stab wound, but the baby lives. No sir. And if, God forbid, the latter sequence of events should befall us, I'd use the knife in the side of the boat as a lever of some kind for the mother of the baby to climb on board and free the ladder - and before everyone died. Hope I didn't say too much. Worth a look, go see it. A worthwhile experience, and I'm always happy to pay someone 9.80 to scare the shit out of me and induce nausea. The chap I saw the movie with had quite a different opinion about the ambiguous and somewhat confusing end scene, so I'd love to hear what you, the great unwashed*, have to say about it, if indeed you have already seen the movie. Even if you are all uneducated peasants and will no doubt suggest something laughable/embarassing, still, all suggestions welcomed. If only for a snigger.

While we're discussing the astonishing amount of celluloid vomit I destroy my spare time with - no, we were, yeah - the new series of Extras*? Delightful. Gervais and Merchant, Godsent, the pair, but especially Merchant, he doesn't get enough kudos at all. For my birthday last year, I begged a sibling who lives in Ipswich to try and track Merchant down in London - I suggested he'd be skulking about the BBC - but to no avail. He didn't actually get round to looking for him, when I say to no avail, I mean when I requested it my sibling said "If I hear more thing about fucking Stephen Merchant I'll cut you, you stupid wench." One day.

I have an Elmo* toy which I re-discovered and have re-employed as chief guard against demons or floating corpses or dead people who want to scare me, he's on nightwatch in my room - but sometimes I wake up right next to his face, and his perfectly spherical white eyeballs staring directly into mine are quite unnerving and not a little terrifying, so he's going back into retirement. I could tie something around his eyes but then how could he see the supernatural no-goodniks that want to kill me in my sleep? I only hired him in the first place cos he's got no eyelids and can't shut his eyes.

Goodthink xx

“You take somebody that cries their goddam eyes out over phoney stuff in the movies, and nine times out of ten they're mean bastards at heart.”

*about there is where you'd click to link to some page about Adrift, or yachts, or movies or the likes but I as yet cannot link. If you're interested in any of the above, or would simply like to know more on the topic of boat related deaths or movies about boats, I suggest typing some carefully chosen key phrases into your Google search bar. Eg. - Boat death +knife +babies. Off you go.

*that's you!

* Type in "Extras" into your Google search box there.

* "Elmo +Sesame Street +Childrens Television Network"

Thursday, July 27, 2006

The new ones are air-conditioned, apparently.


I SAW: A man wearing plus-fours, knee socks and loafers.

I SAW: A photo of David Hasselhoff, slumped in a drunken stupor in Heathrow airport with a large urine stain on his crotch.

I SAW: Rosanna Davison and her boyfriend 'James' (Jimlad?) on the cover of VIP, the article promised to divulge all about their "IDYLLIC LIFE TOGETHER." They were pedalling a boat together and smiling.

THEN I: scanned a jar of horse-radish for a lady at my till, looked up and said "Horse-radish." Instead of "1.89." Then she laughed so I PUNCHED HER.

AND SEVERAL HOURS PREVIOUSLY I: Got a stolen wallet back, minus the money, under very suspicious circumstances - if the guy at the dart station is reading this you know EXACTLY what I'm talking about

While I'm here and you are too, I still can't link and you're all* a bunch of interweb-nerdalings anyway so you probably know all about POPBITCH so go sign up. Why should you, you ask? What have I done to gain your respect or make you interested in any of my opinions? Who do I think I am, writing a stupid, self-indulgent pseudo-kooky Bridget Jones style blog about nothing, so inane and grating you shock yourself by wishing a terminal illness on me then clap your hand to your mouth in shame when the thought process happens, when there's a war going on in the Lebanon?

Then I remember it's just two of you, *Stigmund and James, so I tell you both to shove it.

GT x

"It's psychosomatic. You need a lobotomy. I'll get a saw."

Friday, July 21, 2006

The opposite of goodthink is crimethink

I'd like to share a story.

While waiting for a bus one night, a couple of months ago, a man sitting beside me was shouting into his mobile. He was sweating, and fidgeting. "Yeah I KNOW I'm having an episode Teresa, I'm BI-POLAR, I'm BI-POLAR, I KNOW I'm manic at the moment!" he hissed. It was a cold night, and even though he was surrounded by people, it seemed this man was almost untouchable in his loneliness. Hunched over, defeated by life, he shouted, but no-one really heard him...

This was an upsetting and sad situation, but I think it serves as a neat metaphor for this blogger's intentions for her blog, and says a lot about who I am. This simple anecdote sets the tone. Picture this broken ruin of a man and his lonely, private torture, see the bus stop, hear his rants - it's like a window into my soul.

Because I'm neither bi-polar nor having a manic episode, but I do listen in to the private conversations of people minding their own business, and I quietly but firmly judge those same people.

goodthink: "A little rudeness and disrespect can elevate a meaningless interaction to a battle of wills, and add drama to an otherwise dull day."

GT x