Wednesday, 18 November 2009

Feedback Wednesday :: A Curse On My Unblasted Dams

bulk :: 13st 11
alcohol intake :: average
tobacco :: ah, well, yes, therein lies a tale
exercise :: none
sex :: none
violence :: none
drama :: lots

Things are extremely odd at the moment. This is why I’m posting pointless little nothings about Fonzie and violent dreams, the kind of things about which my dear old friends send me snippy hurtful emails late at night. Oh, Thom. How could you?

Frustratingly, this is also one of those periods about which I cannot speak, for fear of upsetting some of the people involved. This is vastly annoying for me because I’m a gusher by nature and my dams are fit to burst. My damns too.

Ah well.

Here are some things I can talk about:

…I’ve met a few people lately, new people, interesting people. One of these is a chap I met through the blog who has an opportunity to write something for a telly programme and wondered if I’d like to try and help. I did try and help but I wasn’t very good. Or at least I certainly wasn’t anywhere near as good as I wanted to be. But we scrambled something together and he sent it off. So I have my fingers crossed, but my hopes unraised.

…I also met another person through other work, a very interesting fellow who, compared at least to most people who are on the whole fairly anodyne, is clearly quite mad. Morag told me when I saw her recently, that I am quite ‘full on’. I know she didn’t mean it as a compliment exactly so much as a statement of fact. However, I took it as a compliment. So, this other fellow is quite full on too. And I mean that as a compliment also. Thankfully, and unusually, if not outright eccentrically, he doesn’t really ‘do’ the internet, so I might tell you more about him when I have a moment. Incidentally, it was with this scamp that I smoked some tobacco the other day. He had some excellent green stuff, you see, to accompany the tobacco, and I simply had to smoke it with him. And I don’t regret it. It really was good.

…Selling out is proving more difficult than I hoped it might. I got a call from the people who are supposed to be sending me my toastie machine this morning and there is a problem. The manufacturer has run out and doesn’t know when they’ll have any more. At the moment, they’re looking at 6-8 weeks. Wastrels. Meanwhile, someone else has sent me a book they want me to review, a book about sex. It’s pretty fucking grotty if you want to know the truth, and there’s no money in it so it’s not exactly selling out, but I’m going to continue with it because I can’t wait to finish the book and tear it a new anus, which is actually, as you shall see, a highly pertinent metaphor. Ouch.

…Yesterday I didn’t have enough money in my bank account to pay the rent. This is bad. I am owed money, and when it comes I’ll be OK again for a while, but it’s a bit embarrassing. At my age. Oh, God... don’t get me started. But do feel free to help out if you're loaded and stupidly generous.

...I think it was five weeks ago I tried to inflate the tyres of my bike. It didn't go well. My bike is still in pieces. I am useless. I need to be punished. Or just pull my fucking finger out. Or both!

…I’ve got a date tonight. I know, I know. But if it doesn’t work out, believe me, that’s it. I’m done with dating and saving up to go to Prague.

Thank you for listening. I leave you with this, taken by a friend in Spitalfields the other day.

No offence.

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DJ Kirkby said...

Good luck for tonight. A few questions spring to mind after reading your post but there's only one I'm happy to leave for public viewing in your coment box: if you've no money then how are you going to pay on your date tonight? Just asking! xo

La Bête said...

A fair and sensible question. The answer is this: I have £200 of my agreed overdraft left in my account - enough for a hell of a date, I'm sure you'd agree, but not enough to cover my rent. So the standing order bounced, but I still have more of the bank's money to spend. Of course, it would be extremely irresponsible of me to spend it under the current circumstances. But where money is concerned, I'm afraid that's exactly what I am.

Nuclear Girl said...

Starbucks Coffee ==> f**k off.

That is class. I'm going to be laughing all day at that, Bete, thanks for sharing that pic.

I've been a lurker here for a while, first time I've posted, great blog. GOOD LUCK for tonight.

Larry Teabag said...

Here is something for you.

I lent your book to my dad to read, and read it he did.

He said he liked it, but it made him feel very old indeed. It was the concept of a "fuck-buddy" that melted his brains. Apparently they didn't have such things in his day.

He also offered the tentative opinion that you are fairly neurotic about sex. (He also suggested that the book might possibly be made out of paper, which similarly hadn't occured to me.)

That was the end his review. Though short, you should consider it glowing, on his terms.

Beleaguered Squirrel said...

My bike got squashed by a car this morning. Luckily I had the good sense to leap off the bike when its wheel started to disappear under the wheel of the car, so I am unharmed. If a little annoyed.

So. You know. At least it's not squashed.

Great Starfucks thing though, and here's hoping that some of the drama is good drama. And well done for being discreet. You deserve kudos for that. And according to theory I have recently been studying, people don't get the praise they deserve often enough. So well done.

La Bête said...

NG, hello! But in my experience, there's no such thing as luck. Oh, no, that's Obi Wan Kenobe's experience. And it's clearly bollocks. Thank you! Fingers crossed.

Mr Teabag, thanks for that, and do thank your dad on my behalf. I reckon I'm pretty neurotic about everything, not just sex. Maybe especially sex though. Aah, with age come perspicacity and wisdom. Cheers.

La Bête said...

Cheers, BS. And commiserations on the bike thing. And well done for surviving intact.

Anonymous said...

Wait a cotton-pickin minute, DJ Kirby.

On the rare, very rare, occasion I go on a date I ALWAYS offer to pay my way. And some members of the brotherhood let me!

Except the other night, a lovely friend bought me a drink even though, like Stan, he too is skint – and I let him. It wasn't a date, though. Apparently. Sadly. Those with the least are always the ones with the biggest heart.

Which brings me to Stan. Oh.... Stan... Stan... methinks you could do with a bit of TLC at the moment. I hope you find it soon. I suspect you may actually be afraid of it.

A Twitter Friend

La Bête said...

To be fair, I don't think DJ was saying I had to pay for the date, but for myself on the date.

And I don't think I'm afraid of TLC, but it has to be right, otherwise it ends up being wrong. And then there is nothing but sadness. You know?

Now I must go and work.

gongman said...

It´s great to have "full on" and eccentric friends.I have loads of 'em.
Does that make me full on and eccentric too ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿


Petrichor said...

Hope your date went well. I also wondered how you'd be able to go on a date if you're skint, but DJ Kirby thankfully got that issue all cleared up for me.

I wouldn't be too worried about not being able to pay the rent at "your age". I'm nearly 32, and have been late with my rent practically every month this year. And I'm a sex worker! Just goes to show...handjobs are the first luxury item to go in this dire economy. Sigh.

Non Je Ne Regrette Rien said...

god. I can relate to the frustrating need to remain mum. it seems that more and more of the people who I find absolutely and ridiculously mock-worthy are people I've met since coming here and who have somehow discovered I blog. It is a bane to blogger's existence when their acquaintances read their writing. I detest the need to self-edit and second guess and it has had the effect of putting me off of my once regular blogging.

garrr-what's a girl to do.

Some Chilean Woman said...

Bouncing and a date sounds like fun to me!