My turn to sink down in the blue chair
It’s Day 2 of me on the wagon. I had letters from Boris Yeltsin’s people saying Boris was worried about me. There’s an American defence contractor who wants me to leave them my liver when I die. Apparently it’s so hard they think they could use it to develop a new kind of tank armour. And the insomnia and weird dreams aren’t helping.
There seems much to be angry about in the news right now but this damn writer’s block won’t shift. Plus, my corner of the internet seems to have intellectualised something chronic: I’m starting to feel like the Ralph Wiggum of the class.
Time to go out for a bit. There’s the first hint of an autumn cooling in the air in Brighton today. I think I’ll put some whitebread MOR (Steely Dan and ELO are my guilty poison) on the iPod and step out.
A small windfall has come my way and I find I have a rare treat of 50 pounds to spend. I’m on the verge of buying these babies on the recommmendation of Jim Bliss - extremely tempting. But then there’s series one and two of Ren & Stimpy on DVD. And Sin City is out on Monday as well which I’ve yet to see.
Help me dear reader, how best to spend my day and my cash, to lift me from my torpor? I’m off for a shower - suggestions by the time I get back, please.
Posted on September 14th, 2005 at 8:53 am
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Got to be the Oblique Strategies. You can write it off as a business expense after all (they aid the creative process) and feel less guilty about spending the 30 quid. Then, with the remaining 20 quid, you can rent the DVDs and buy some popcorn.
my corner of the internet seems to have intellectualised something chronic
Well yep, I plead a bit guilty. But then while you do sensible stuff like go out for a walk to combat block and boredom, I either:
1. write something tedious and (pseudo-)intellectual
OR
2. pick a fight with someone in a comments box somewhere just to pass the time and provoke an insult for my collection
So far this week, one of each.
As a life long piss head, requisite for advertsing copywriters - I forsook the electric soup overnight when diagnosed 5 years ago with Diabetes Type II.
The good news is, the Liver is the only human organ that re-generates, so after 5 years my Doc says my liver is pretty well back in shape…I fell much much better for it.
I don’t regret the accompanying debauchery of my youth but do regret the money spent and the legover opps. missed or mislaid.
If you want to read tales of such and need distraction , obtain a copy of Tom Wolfe’s latest “I am Charlotte Simmons”… a fable of our times, wickedly funny,… having got a copy, sit down and read it.
And stop feeling so fucking sorry for yourself.
Buy a few joints smoke ‘em and read this
http://billmon.org/archives/002151.html
and then try blogging and better it (which you are capable of).
Right with you, buddy:
Bloggerheads - No deer for a month
:o)
I would hope not that our moral compass (i.e. justin) is on the “wagon” literally. For one would be much upset!
(Shock and bewilderment sets in Mr Snooo. Revived by passing good-bearers, Mr Snooo retains his composure to give his dying words on essential matters)
Hark! My only advice comrade: the rental of Sin City may be more fortuitous as a film buff or “fan” may dislike its egregious violence and mysogeny. You may think it has no plot and is largely pointless, barring a demonstration of how prostitutes can also be great marks-women.
You may, however, believe it is a great “hoot”, is that the word?, and you may find it to provide enough visual eye-candy to satisfy the belly as well as the mind. It is up to you!
(Mr Snooo passes out for the last time, drawing a detectable upset from the surrounding crowd…
pause…
DETECTABLE.)
Go to the pub. Get ratted. Take some Class A drugs. Collapse into a chair, with music on, and don’t get up for a month.
DK
Feeling better this morning after some shallow, shallow retail therapy.
Jim B: The order for a box of OSs is in. Groovy.
Jarndyce: The intellectual thing wasn’t meant as a pop against anybody but me, you well-read bastard. Anti-intellectualism is rampant enough without my joining the galloping masses.
But when I were a lad, colourful metaphor and a burning sense of grievance were enough to garner you plaudits and a couple extra on the visitor stats. Now, you open your mouth and a bunch of young turks pull my hair and laugh at my book collection. It’s not fair.
Postman: That puts it into perspective. Self-pity duly shelved.
FF and DK: Recreational drugs are a problem when you have small children. It’s bad enough having a five-year old who says: “Daddy, beer is giving you a big belly”. What next, “Daddy, why are you always hitting the pipe?”
Tim: (Sniff) That’sh beautiful man. Sholidarity, mate.
David: I’m afraid it’s true, I am on the wagon. I want my short term memory and my waist back, cheers.
As someone stuck a hospital bed in France (and therefore momentarily alcohol free), with a broken leg held up by bungys from the ceiling, I can recommend a little light amusement to get the correct juices flowing. I saw a “film” here, on TV, called “Red Dawn” made in the Raygun era… a bunch of high school kids from a tiny US town (Columbine?) turn guerrillas to “free the country” from the invasion by parachuting Cubans, Nicaraguans and a few Russians). I’ve rarely laughed as much, bungys wobbling all over the place and serious danger of ripping the hooks out of the ceiling……and THEN…I looked at the (recent) reviews on the US Amazon site…there are people in the US who believe it is possible….guns should be unregistered for this reason etc….(’tis only ’bout £5 for the second hand DVD)….
It didn’t help that I was pissed when I wrote that, erk.
Getting off the booze is probably a good idea. I am not yet old enough to have developed said belly, but earlier scrapes (getting beaten outside a club, flooding a house, being a crap drunk) with drinking too much have led me to reduce my tipples. Tho I still enjoy the odd bottle of wine, to myself. Hic.
I’m with you. I’ve done half a wine box tonight with a very pissed off missus, who completely recognises the fact that I’ve done jack since supposedly starting my own business 3 months ago. We’ve been sober for two weeks now, and are determined that our 3-year-old is NOT going to suffer as a result of us being pissed retards. Pardon my french. So I’m drying out again tomorrow, and expecting a couple of hardened folkies over on Sunday to teach me the finer points of Irish jigs’n'reels. Without drinking. But with beef. Hope they’re veggies.
Incidentally, I only came here because our 3-year-old invented ‘Chicken Yoghurt’… or at least I thought she did…