Friday, September 01, 2006


Thanks for the offer of virtual crumpet (oh, it's toward the end of the comments, if you can't be bothered to read it all). I must say, I "virtually" *would*. Phwoarr.

Any road, I was going to do a long whiney post about how depressed I feel at the moment but I'm trying to keep it at bay. I still might post it actually and go all cathartic on yo' ass, if you are really unfortunate.

Then there are the other Bank Holiday television posts - if I can be bothered. I have been really unkind to you. No wonder visitor figures are DWINDLING and comments are DWINDLING.
Soon they may all DWINDLE away to nothing. Or will I jump before I'm pushed ...?

The rest of you, if I don't bother to post again ...

(a) you've had a lucky escape.
(b) have a larvely larvely weekend/life you larvely people. I love you all very much and could give you all a long, lingering, squelchy, noisy, sultry kiss. If you were really unfortunate.


Nonsense. In the tone of Matron.
Dwindled comments? And still in double figures? I'm down to three these days - that's dwindling if we had to have a dwindle competetion (lets!).
But of course I love my three readers and so it is enough.
Loud belch.
Talking of competition - the Sing Something Simple song (previous post comments, readers, pay attention) was "we'll sing something simple for you".

(Who am I going to steal blog ideas from if not you? I'm working on a 'curly hair' one as we speak.)

I don't know who that man-crumpet pic is. He's got a lot of hair, which generally means not a lot of body hair. Yuk. Smooth-chested men give me the boke.

Anyhow - Cheer up Betty!
I've just found you so please don't go yet.
Spin doesn't know who James "Derek Flint" Coburn is. First Kris Kristofferson on another site and now this. Christ, I feel old.
I'll be home to give you a big, fat, sloppy kiss soon.

Just got to finish my crumpet topped with organic butter and foie gras.
And I've just RETURNED to you. You can't leave. You're too well loved, by the entire blithering great unwashed British nayshun.

Any pressure felt is entirely your own bloomin' fault for being a good blogger.
Arabella - I dunno, I don't want to keep flogging a dead horse. I think I'm a bit behind the times, like bootleg cut trousers and gipsy skirts ...

Anyway, go over to Arabella's, people! It's a quality blog! Better than The Mad Mithering Manic Mutterings Of A Mother In Paris, or Becks And Posh (yes, there is a blog called Becks And Posh) or whatever is top of the British Blog chart.

Spinsterella - I have got loads of ideas but don't know if they're much good. I may be able to sell them to you for a small fee.

James Coburn, by the way. The most handsome man of all time in Cross Of Iron (er, in my opinion). A complete twat in The Great Escape, with the Dick Van Dyke equivalent of most terrible attempt at an Australian accent ever: "bladdy hell moyte!"

Hairy balding men? Like that bloke who used to play Barry in Eastenders? Fair enough.

Realdoc - well, you could always read the archive. Uh - not the first year though. That was terrible, even by my standards.

Wyndham - exactly. I wouldn't know Orlando Bloom from Adam though (unless it was Adam Faith or another Adam from my generation of course).

Dear God, it appears I'm married to Michael Winner now.

*makes mental note to pack suitcase as soon as possible and make fast getaway back to the midlands*

Mark - I can't comment on whether or not my dwindling readership is unwashed, but it wouldn't surprise me.

Anyway, I'm just feeling a bit low at the moment and feel as though I just want to fade away and vegetate (as Blondie once sang).

Have a nice weekend!
Dear Betty,

I am bringing you:
1) The small piece of blood that I had on my lip today when I was in a meeting and I thought of your story and I had to start coughing into my hand to disguise the laugh that came out. And then I bit my lip and some blood came out. It was so funny.
2. Another crumpet...but this time with a very thick splodge of Nutella on it.
3. A Fondant Fancy. The nice pink one.
4. A picture of that girl in the green cardigan with gold buttons with the Phil Oakey hair.
5. Six hundred pieces of Sara Lee double chocolate cake.
6. The offer of coming to my daughter's birthday party if you want with more fondant fancies and perhaps a Shipham's Paste sandwich if you like.
7. The smell of a piece of toast fresh out of the toaster.
8. Four packets of Iced Gems. With the icy nipples still in tact.
9. A packet of Midget Gems.
10. Three of my Fall CDs. My favourite ones that my friend made me.
11. Pam St. Clement's autograph.
12. A virtual Podcast...that I haven't made...but all the songs are really good and are dedicated to you.
13. A really cool plastic watch in the shape of a Mr. Man.
14. A warm duvet with pictures of nice things on...like crumpets and Lindt chocolate bars.
15. A picture of Gillian McKeith eating deep fried Mars Bars.
16. A DVD of The Fingerbobs.
17. A video medley of your favourite TV.
18. One thousand hugs that feel like your best ones ever. The warm ones you have and always remember.
19. A really annoying crap story by me.
20. A walk down Eltham High Street and into the Electriq Cafe for some massive pizza and some of their chocolate fudge cake.

So therexx
Bootleg's OK by me.
It's August (or it was) and we are supposed to be fed up and comments are suppose to dwindle.
And YOU were born to BLOG!
i thought my neibor was yelling at the apple tree again but it was just some kids out on the sidewalk.

i hope you're happy.
Take time out if you must, but please don't commit virtual hari-kari.
Besides which, remember that awful Tears for Fears woman (real or piss-take, you decide)?

I posted a comment on here blog:
"Tears for Fears were good.
But Slayer are better">

She actually replied (the daft bint)! Here is her reply:

"Thank you for being the first commentator on my weblog. I hope you will come along here and visit over the years, and you will come to understand why I feel so strongly about Tears For Fears, over the year's.

Of course, you are entitled to your opinion. I have not heard of 'Slayer', but they must be a very good pop group indeed to be as good as Tears For Fears.

September 01, 2006

glenda said...
Actually, I am trying to be very balanced about what you said, as in the past I have reacted very badly to people who have not shared my opinion about Tears For Fears.

My consultent told me about some breathing ecxercises I can do when I get angry, as I am now.

I am going to go away and do them now..."

I wouldn't have had such a giggle if it weren't for you mentioning the awful Glenda Orzabal in the first place.

Thank you Betty, and I love your style of writing.
Don't you even think about giving it up.
Yeah, I'd pack it in if I were you Bettser. Life's a pile of cack really, and the fewer of us to document it as it is the better really - I'm jacking it in again too, if that's any consolation. Why? Well, it's hrd enough living *one* life , let alone two. And count your blessings - you've got Geoff on your arm to have a go at in a completely arbitrary and irrational way when things turn shitty. As they inevitably will

Life's shit, isn't it?
Am I alone among heterosexual males in not spontaneously combusting in a puff of testosterone at the very concept of Uma Thurman? I mean, I probably would, if there wasn't anything good on telly, but she's way down the list.

Audrey Tautou, now you're talking.

And don't pack it in Betty, or I'll nut you.
James Coburn - sigh. I so definitely would. Uma Thurman too probably. Or at least, she's lovely to look at.
I'm new here but please don't leave as i like your blog.
"Am I alone among heterosexual males in not spontaneously combusting in a puff of testosterone at the very concept of Uma Thurman?"

Uma Thurman has big feet. Maybe that's why.

"I think I'm behind the times..." said Betty.
I think 'the times' are overated, that's when I can work out what they are. One thing I like about getting older is I've accpted the fact that I'm a natural dawdler.

Doesn't Molly make nice lists? Must visit her - keep meaning to.
Thanks for the brazen plug - form an orderly queue, thank you.

James Coburn's accent in The Great Escape IS memorably bad. And Don Cheadle as a Londoner in 'Ocean's Eleven'? Shudder.
Audrey Tatou is so cute I would have to push her down a flight of stairs if the opportunity arose. Jeanne Moreau is my crumpet of choice.
Thanks for all your heartfelt/drunken pleas/suicide bids. I didn't say I was going - just that I'm feeling a bit low and apathetic at the mo'. Just like to make sure that everybody knows about it when I'm in a bad mood though.

Will get back to you individually tomorrow, but unfortunately I'm on Socialising Duties this evening. See yerz xx
Socialising Duties? I have anxiety attacks when I'm on SD. I feel your pain. Get well soon.
MJ - well, I suffer from social phobia, so Socialising Duties on top of feeling depressed is a laugh a minute.

Thanks anyway duck - and to the person who sent the e-mail. Will get back to you when I have the time. Must get muttoned up now.
Uma blaady Thurman? If you're going to post pictures of skinny birds, please to make them of Knightly, K. I do hope it's just temporary, Betty. Your unbridled cynicism and the complete lack of lust for life make me feel marginally better with my own lot. When I'm next down in London we must arrange to meet up in a run-down 90s theme pub and have a meaningful silence.

Robert, not again, please. I will listen when I've got a spare week but iTunes crashes my PC at the moment, honest injun. I did try the other day.
Molly - I'm touched, really (well, all those other people who said "she's a bit touched, she is" were right all along). Damn, is that a tear in the corner of my eye or a bit of clogged up mascara.

I'd love to see Gillian McKeith tucking into a kebab and twenty pints of "STAG" beer (as featured on Coronation Street). Bring it on!

First Nations - I'm okay. I just like to make the most of wallowing in self pity. Well, if you don't make the time to feel sorry for yourself, no one else will!

Kaz - thanks, kidder, but as the Johnny Thunders song would suggest, Baby I Was Born To Lose. Mind you, I'm glad it's August. Can we start going backwards in time?

Istvanski - thanks. You are very kind. But keep a safe distance from Glenda. She has ruined my life. I look out at the shrubs in the parking bay opposite our house and wonder if she is hidden there, ready to pounce. Awful woman. As Richard said, a "mentalist". Richard seems to have sussed her out, judging by his comments.

Robert - you really are the Albert Finney in The Dresser of blogging. We all love you but you are very high maintenance. Have a cup of sugary tea and a bit of a sitdown dear. Still, I will take your advice, but I won't take it out on Geoff. Instead I will go on another one of my killing sprees.

Tim - argg. That film Amelie, and Audrey Tatou with her cute overbite and rolling eyes. I hated that film's kookiness and warm hearted feelgoodiness. It made me want to throw the television set through the window. Sorry.

GSE - James Coburn was still extremely tasty in his seventies. Ding dong!

Mimi - I'm not going anywhere, unfortunately. Nice birds, by the way, particularly the rook (I like rooks, and rookeries).

Billy - Uma Thurman has size eleven feet, but she's a tall lass. Lovely hooded eyes though.

Arabella - don't get me wrong, I don't want to be to "with" the times. It is impossible to be cool once you get past the age of thirty, and any attempts to be cool end up making you look stupid.

Arthouse totty ... mm, Monica Vitti in L'Avventura!

MJ - got over it, feeling better except for the hangover. Thanks!

Richard - "Your unbridled cynicism and the complete lack of lust for life make me feel marginally better with my own lot." That's the nicest thing anyone has said about me in three hundred years of blogging. I can feel myself starting to well up again.

Boo hoo.
do as i do:

stare your dwindlingness in the face and say ya boo sucks to the dwindlingness

chin up
spirit of the blitz
and all that crap

carry on regardless

see, i think people are going through a 'reading but not commenting' phase - it's a cycle, just as the climate change deniers would say about the melting ice caps

(this is what i am telling myself)

it's called self-delusion and BOY does it feel good (cheaper than hard drugs to boot)

[was that helpful??]
besides, dwindlingness? what are you saying, womb-an? i rarely get comments in the double figures these days (she says, sourly)
I'll gladly overlook Uma Thurman's size 11 feet if she'll do the same with regards to my spotty arse.
Urban Chick - I worry that the dwindlingness in going to dwindle away to a nothingness though. It would be weird publishing stuff to an audience of no one. I'll carry on boring people to death if they're still daft enough to visit though. Mind you, the best way to boost comments is to sound as if you're going to give up like a stroppy drama queen. Hem hem.

Istvanski - apparently she has buttocks like a couple of pepperoni pizzas herself so I'm sure you would get along like a Pizza Hut on fire.
one of the few blogs out there that speaks my language - and everyone dwindles over the summer don't they? Courage!!
Dark nights are drawing in. The irritating bastards that have lives and holidays will be back soon enough.

I don't have either but occasionally try to give the appearance that I do, so as not to alert the irritating bastards, by hiding under my duvet and resolutely ignoring everyone for a few days. So far they are still there when I re-emerge. Your readers will be too x
That Degree in Psychotherapy I 'acquired' from the University of Droitwich is paying off then.
"Uma Thurman has size eleven feet, but she's a tall lass."

Is that 11 UK or 11 US? In fact, are they different, they usually are.

I wonder if she'd lend me a pair. Not that I'm teetering on the precipice of pedicular tranvestitism or anything.
If you leave me now, you'll take away the biggest part of me. Oooh ooh ooh no baby please don't go.
Rhino75 - thanks for the nice words! I don't know if I can summon up "courage" though, being a complete coward. Anyway, I'm developing an inferiority complex because you seem to attend masses of parties full of young, beautiful and glamorous people. 'Ow the other 'arf lives, eh?

Cherrypie - I try to give the appearance of having a life and masses of holidays by double bluffing. If I don't mention my social life maybe everyone will think I'm out every night or travelling off the New York at weekends. Well, that's my theory.

Richard - isn't that the university where Gillian McKeith got her degree in Combined Media Studies and Foodology?

Billy - I think they're British size 11 feet. Erm, it was in that venn diagram thing in the Guardian Weekend. Kate Winslett also has size 11 feet.

You would literally be teetering on the precipice of transvestitism if you were wearing a pair of size 11 high heeled strappy stilletoes. High heels take a bit of getting used to if you're a man.
Del - careful with those Chicago records. You'll be moving on to the more hardline stuff if you're not careful - such as Supertramp. Damn. You already have ...
I'm so out of touch that I finally had to google her. Is she on the breakfast telly or summink?

The other half's a size 10 foot and has a shoe habit. She continually lost out on ebay to someone called Jennifer Lovelylegs, whose ankles were just slightly too wide.
Pulp Fiction, Kill Bills 1 & 2, and erm, some other movies.

I'd better not go into a serious discussion about shoes or I'll get the foot fetishists over here. There are already enough no-mates mentalists doing the rounds of the internet!
Blogger isn't being your friend, Betty. It continually tells me that you only have 21 comments on this post yet this is No 37 or near. Last week it was telling me you had only one comment on your last post yet there were many. Then it decided to show me two more even later posts complete with a host of comments that I'd never seen before, which made me feel left out and I had to do some proper work to compensate. This may explain your reduced readership because it appears there's nothing happening even though there is.
Blimey Richard. Perhaps I am lost in time and space somewhere. Which is why I am blethering on about the Cliff Adams Singers, and nobody else knows what I'm talking about. It's 1972!

Or perhaps you are imagining things too, and everyone else is right. Neither of us exist, except in our own heads.

Anyway, if anyone is still reading this post ...

Only two comments to go and I will have passed the 40 comments mark, which will be a major accomplishment for me. Loads of other people have got 40 comments on a post, but not me :-(

So if anyone has something to say, no matter how uninteresting, about Uma Thurman's feet, or whether or not Billy really steps out at night as Willhemina, or dwindlingness, or, best of all, to tell me how lovely I am and what an amaaaazing writer, then do so now ...

Yes, probably all of that. Must go, Semprini Serenade's on and the Wonderloaf man's arrived for his money.
so desperately want you to hit the 40-mark (never been there myself *sniffs*)
Gee, UC - thanks for that. What a milestone! Even if I had to grovel for it.

I suppose I'd better celebrate with a drink. Sadly, no legit booze to hand, but I'll have to see what's under the sink. Disinfectant and pineapple juice on the rocks it is then.
Ooh - I'm a bit late but better late than never - don't leave us Betty. I'll play more disco for you I promise! I love your writing and your clever mind - don't stop! Rockmother (not very rock at all but it sounds good) xx
Rockmother - thanks. I'm moved when people say nice things about me but basically I'm a crap busker of a blogger.

I won't be going though. At this rate I'll be like one of those sad and annoying people who hang on until the end of clubs, when the dj has to put the Birdie Song on to get them off the dancefloor.
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