Thursday, December 06, 2007
LEARNING CURVE
Gosh, crumbs, I'm publishing two posts in a row that have a strong visual element! What bad form! No wonder I don't have one of those acclaimed blogs!
Anyways, in the comments box on the previous post, Tom suggested ways to attract more feedback from readers.
Frankly, my comments level has been going down a bit in the last few weeks, and I'm desperate enough to do anything to attract attention, so I'll abide by his rules on this one.
(a) not too long a post
Indeed, so without further ado ...
(b) don't get serious about anything ever
I try my best not to.
(c) take a satirical stance (legs apart and one slightly forward of the other)
Hmm, difficult to visualise "a satirical stance". I don't really like Monty Python, but needs must ...
(d) always leave a hook in there for the girls who like to flirt and dream of romance (obviously, that's guys in your case)
So, a hook for all the male readers. Look out for my new up to the moment football results service, coming soon!
(e) regular posts about sex
the male organ
(... well, male organists)
and breasts
There you go. If I don't get at least a hundred comments and a job writing for the TV Quick after this post, then I will be suing Tom.
Anyways, in the comments box on the previous post, Tom suggested ways to attract more feedback from readers.
Frankly, my comments level has been going down a bit in the last few weeks, and I'm desperate enough to do anything to attract attention, so I'll abide by his rules on this one.
(a) not too long a post
Indeed, so without further ado ...
(b) don't get serious about anything ever
I try my best not to.
(c) take a satirical stance (legs apart and one slightly forward of the other)
Hmm, difficult to visualise "a satirical stance". I don't really like Monty Python, but needs must ...
(d) always leave a hook in there for the girls who like to flirt and dream of romance (obviously, that's guys in your case)
So, a hook for all the male readers. Look out for my new up to the moment football results service, coming soon!
(e) regular posts about sex
the male organ
(... well, male organists)
and breasts
There you go. If I don't get at least a hundred comments and a job writing for the TV Quick after this post, then I will be suing Tom.
Labels: blogging paranoia, breasts, frogs, John Cleese, neediness, not getting enough comments, please leave a comment, Reginald Dixon, Tom 909
Monday, August 06, 2007
THEY MIGHT BE GIANTS
Gentle Giant
We are sitting in our living room reading various bits of the Saturday Grauniad.
Geoff is reading a story about the large, shaggy, Newfoundland dog that has apparently been mistakenly dubbed "The Beast Of Dartmoor", although there appears to be some dispute about this.
"I bet that the dog's referred to as A Gentle Giant at some point in that article" I say.
"How high is the chance?" asks Geoff.
"Oh, it's got to be at least eighty per cent. I'd be very surprised if it wasn't."
A few minutes later, Geoff has finished reading the article.
"Well, the dog wasn't described as A Gentle Giant, but he was described as ..."
"... A Big Softy?" I suggest.
"Yes" replies Geoff.
A Big Softy
You'll notice that the expression A Gentle Giant DOES occur in the online BBC story, however.
Labels: enormous shaggy dogs, Gentle Giant, Homo Escapeons, Tom 909
Friday, March 23, 2007
THAT OLD MAN RIVER
While scraping around for new ideas (they're getting as rare as hen's teeth these days) I was commenting on a post at Billy's where he was discussing auditory hallucination. He asked readers whose voice they would like to accompany an hallucination.
This triggered off an unpleasant memory of mine, which is the *inspiration* for this awful post.
When I was about five years old, I was sat with my parents watching The Val Doonican Show on television.
Velvet Voiced Val was like a cosy security blanket wrapped around my childhood. I'm sure his shows were on television every Saturday night until I was about seven and the reality of how cruel, indifferent and cold this dog eat dog world is finally kicked in.
To anyone under the age of, I dunno, forty, it's difficult to describe the way that Val Doonican strode the earth like a colossus. Well, probably difficult to convince anyone of my age actually. He just played an important part in my life, okay?
Anyway, one night I felt a bit poorly (as five year olds tend to do for around seventy per cent of the time). This, however was ... different.
I had some sort of high fever and was put to bed ONLY ABOUT TEN MINUTES INTO THE VAL DOONICAN SHOW. Clearly, I was at death's door.
It wasn't long before I was hallucinating that Val was singing to me in his rocking chair, with a voice that was far deeper than normal. He sounded more like Paul Robeson. The rocking chair rocked harder and more insistently, and Val glared at me, his eyes ablaze and his voice booming, like a rocking chair-bound lay priest.
Into this melee stepped Pinky And Perky.
The menacing puppet pigs are trauma inducing enough in themselves. My cruel parents had decorated my bedroom with Pinky And Perky wallpaper. This featured a design of one of them playing drums, and one of them playing a stand up bass. Some sort of bebop duo set up.
In my feverish state, Pinky And Perky came out of the wallpaper and started to play the most ungodly rhythmic modern jazz racket
All this lasted about half an hour. An atonal, hundred and fifty decibel cacophony involving pigs and a crooning Irishman.
It was even more frightening than my previous hallucination, in which my parents' insurance man, Mr Baker, was scrambling over the roof of the outhouse that I could see from my bedroom window
There will be more on Val Doonican in the next post. You all deserve to suffer as much as I did.
Labels: Junior Disprin, Paul Robeson, Pinky And Perky, Tom 909, Val Doonican
