Well these are some lean times at Doubtpuppet Towers.
LEAN TIMES mark you!
The triple Christmas cock punch of extreme family BULLSHIT, bereavement, and multiple illness, seems to have left this ship marooned in somewhat windless shallows of late.
Added to which I was marauded by a mad old ugly dog faced cow earlier in the week while innocently parking the Doubt mobile. Suuuure it’s all blarting and sincere apologies now that she’s a guest in my well, but part of me wonders if she’s just saying that because she wants something from me. Well she’ll get the hose for her trouble. How dare she harass my sweet little car. It never hurt anybody. Not even the postman. No, I cannot have that. It just won’t do. She’ll learn to love my little car the exact same way that I do before I can say with a happy heart that she’s rehabilitated and release her back into the world. Then we’ll probably spend Christmases together and such like. I imagine we’ll laugh about all this then.
I do apologise for all the unreciprocated reads and wot not on here. I’ve had to let a few things go. And truth be told, this whole reciprocation lark isn’t really my bag anyway. Some of us just suck at reading on a sorely comprehended industrial scale I’m afraid. Some of us need to feel like we scrupulously understood what we read or else not read it at all. For some of us, reading is pain. Some of us just want to bloody well write. And then the reading becomes “a thing” – a necessary chore hanging in the air like a bad smell. I wish I could just stumble on other blogs unprescribed and unplanned, but there’s no time to do both so I never do that. I think social media is blighted by this phenomenon personally. It sucks the marrow out of it for me.
What can I tell you – some people are sponges and some are testicles. Wait, that came out entirely wrong. What I meant was some people want to read loads of stuff and some want to write loads of stuff. For me writing is closer to fun and reading is closer to trauma. And frankly, after a day at work, where I have to read a certain amount each day, it’s hard work.
Add to that the increasing amount of head Nazgul I have to fight off each day and well, fuggin fuggedaboudit as fat Italian Americans smoking cigars and sipping espressos say.
As a little aside, I ordered an espresso the other day from a coffee shop by where I work.I foolishly assumed it would be some commercialised version of the italian micro drink. But no she filled one of those coffee shop cups up about 2% and gave it back to me and charged me the £2 for the drink. I couldn’t contain my amusement and just lost it. She couldn’t see the funny side. Luckily for her, the mercenary 10p they now charge for the cup wiped the smile off my face. You know – for the environment! A HA HA HA HA – now I’m laughing again.
Anyway I’m all out of words tonight but before I go I shall share with you a very cool song. It’s a song I’d like to think the laydeez would vote for if they had to pick a theme tune for me walking down the street. But in reality I secretly know they’d pick something unkind by Ken Dodd or Pinky and Perky. Grrrrrrrrrr laydeeezzz!!!!
The irony is that I am “hard to handle” but just not quite in the way that Mr. Redding intended in the song. Mine is more in a way that puts people ill at ease and permeates the space between us with a slow-building sense of awkwardness. It wouldn’t make such a good song though I don’t think.
I don’t know if this is the worst blog post I ever wrote but it’s certainly right down there. Even Otis looks embarrassed to be here doesn’t he(and that’s your first verbal warning right there Redding – no-one BUT NO-ONE disrespects my beautiful dolls, I mean blog, I don’t care how cool you think you are or how well you think you might sing. I will always sing better and be cooler!!!!!! Actually neither of those outrageous claims are remotely true dammit, but anyway it is my blog so just shut up you cheeky dead sod!)
So without further to do, I give you Mr. Otis Redding with Hard to Handle: