Sometimes you eat the bar...

Since I've set up this blog I've been ill (flu or something). Actually it all started with that "Bastards" post back there, so there was a slight delay. Anyway, I'm still laid up.

So I've got some ideas for one or two things to blog about here, but I just don't feel up to them. Tricky subjects, you could say, requiring a lean, keen, and responsive mind. Mine is fat, lazy, and sluggish. Like this:

No writing done either. I'm cruising into the last couple of chapters and then this strikes, and I have to stop. Which is a shame, in a way. But do you know what?

Fuck it.

I'm not going to argue with a shitstorm. If a shitstorm strikes, it strikes. Que sera sera. Who knows - maybe I was going off in the wrong direction anyway (wouldn't be the first time - I had to backtrack 20k on the previous novel when I finally saw the light), and when I crank it up again in a day or two (I hope), I'll be able to see the thing a bit better.

Therein lies my attitude to writing, FWIW. I don't write every day, and I never will. And I'm not going to worry about not writing for a couple of weeks. I have to hear the voices. If they're not there, nor am I. But if they are, and they're up for it, so am I. Try and keep me away.

Kenny Rogers

As inspired by the truly remarkable site www.menwholooklikekennyrogers.com, I have a new idea for a website. Oh man, it's gonna take off big time. You see, while most guys would love to look like the ole Kenny Boy once they get past a certain age (40?), Ray Banks points out (in the back blogs) a little sticking point...

Hair.

And I'll fess up here: I'm travelling that same path with him. And once you start down that way there's no turning back (unless you're Elton John).

So, back to my new website idea... www.menwholooklikepierluigicollina.com

(Confused? American? Go here and guess. The man is an icon. And I don't mean a gay one. (Is he a gay one?))

Here's a few to start with, starting with the man himself:

Bastards

I was going to give you a nice positive post today, about the weather or something. But I feel like shit, so I won't. Not only do I feel like shit, but I walked all the way up the fucking hill here where I work (Northampton, UK) to buy some Lockets or something. And the fucking shop was shut.

Bastards.

Why the hell have a shop if you're not going to open it on Wednesday afternoon?

Actually I will post about something. Meet Adam Millard...



What the fuck is up with the world? What has this guy achieved by paying four grand to have his face cut up? Let's take the "before" shot... He looks OK to me. A bit ragged here and there, and bit geezerish. A face on the local crime scene perhaps. A face you would hesitate to fuck with, but who wouldn't have much of a problem attracting a certain type of lady. Maybe you can score some coke off him, or ask him if he knows anyone who "fixes problems". Maybe he "fixes problems". The face of a man who has been around, in short. An interesting face. And then the "after" shot...

He looks like a fucking dimwit, is what he looks like. And he IS a fucking dimwit, as we hear when he opens his mouth:

"I'd reached a point where I recognised I was getting older and had partied too hard and had too many sunbeds."

Fair enough. Haven't we all, mate. (Except the sunbeds. What's that for? The British are supposed to be pasty.) Then this:

"I go clubbing quite a lot - the scene is all about wrapping paper. You walk into a club and want to feel good."

Uh oh. Wrapping paper? Wrong, mate. That scene is about drinking 10+ pints of Stella and tripping hard on E, then looking around for the least-ugly member of the opposite sex to cop off with. Look closer. But OK, maybe he wants to wear some nice clothes, comb his hair perhaps. (More than I would bother with but each to his own, eh.) Then we get this:

"Unfortunately my wrapping paper was getting a bit tatty round the edges and I'm a very fastidious person so hanging out with 'beautiful people' made me pull myself apart."

For fuck's fucking sake, man... Would you just listen to yerself for once?

"Because I wasn't confident about my look, I just wouldn't believe people who paid me a compliment. I was walking around with 'I'm feeling insecure' written across my forehead."

Am I just picking on this guy? Should I just leave him alone, and concentrate on writing my novel? Or maybe blog about crime fiction and other blogs and shut the fuck up about the world at large? Perhaps. But fuck it - HE put himself up for public scrutiny by letting the BBC do this "magazine" piece on him. HE is perpetrating this cult of youth that seems to have grabbed the Western world.

And I am feeling like shit today.

New Blog Manifesto

With this new blog comes hope, and a new sense of freedom. Gone are the shackles of my old site, the restrictions that held me back and made my life hell. Now I will be able to...

post any time I like get more drive-by visitors (via the "next blog" button) embrace the brave new blogging world worry about being seen to jump the tired old blogging bandwagon waste more time hinder my chances of completing my novel-in-progress worry about blog appearance tinker with blog appearance worry about what to post about end up posting nothing worry about posting nothing post about worrying about posting nothing worry about posting about worrying about posting nothing drink more alcohol start smoking again post lists that are so long I don't even remember what they're about remember what they're about realise that they never really warranted a list in the first place drop acid, just to have something interesting to post about worry about how my life is spiralling out of control post while tripping on acid enjoy the experience trip and post again, remembering how cool it was not enjoy it this time (bad trip) worry about actually posting myself bodily onto the internet (during bad trip) post myself bodily onto the internet finally come down off my trip, only to realise that I now exist only in binary form worry about that revel in my new binary form get run over by a drive-by visitor (via the "next blog" button)