It all started a couple of days ago, with a comment from my dear pal Ms Baroque. "Oh, NWM, it was so fun when you were in Brixton - for me, I mean. Remember? You really weren't working, and you hated your cat, and your upstairs neighbour was a good old-fashioned London twat?"
She was right, of course. She often is. I was funnier when I had fuck-all to do and was slightly miserable. When I had time to look at the pavement, and at gigantic cocks. (Regular readers: no, don't click on it; it's the old one, the dirty lady story.) When I still had enough money to not have to work, a personal trainer to sneer at, and one to like; squirrels to kill with my eyes, and socks to lose. When I had a cat to hate, elaborate Powerpoint charts to write, drains to drain, and police vans to watch out of the window. When I'd lost a job I shouldn't have been doing, and been chucked by someone I shouldn't have been with in the first place and didn't know what to do, really.
But now, of course, my circumstances have changed dramatically. How in God's name did I end up working (which I disagree with in principle) in Amsterdam, in a romantic situation that I couldn't have made up, not even if I'd sucked on crystal meth for 12 days? (And one, may I say, that I never thought would happen.) Where did my hair go? When did I let strangers drip thick wax where they shouldn't? When did I start liking bicycles and sprouting things in my salad, and Norwegian music and go - no, I can't say that one, my mother reads this blog and I have another 25% of a house in France to inherit.
Anyway, I can hardly understand it myself, so will have to think about it carefully for another 45 days - i.e, the first anniversary of this superb and universally acclaimed blog. (At which point I will write one of those ghastly "things that have happened to me in the last year" posts, and then retire forever, with nothing but a crack pipe and a Canadian for company.)
In conclusion: I've got cock-all to say, other than if you're mad or unhappy, stay mad and unhappy. It makes you funnier. So, to give you something more interesting to read instead, I offer you the following links:
The only blog I read every day is not really a blog. Recently, it has been about woodchucks.
"It is sunny today in Montreal, in fact it is about 29 degrees". "How do you know?" "Because of BBC weather".
"Don't leave your rubbish here. It really stinks!", whined some twat in my building via Post-It the the other day. I am not alone, however, thanks to this absolutely glorious site.
The only ones that really make me laugh are still Jonny B and Tired Dad. Tired Dad in particular is a miserable fucker, but worth it. (I love everyone else, of course, but just not as much.)
But I really like this person.
And I get all my clothes here.
And if I had a dog, I would like it to look like this.
UPDATE
Oh, and I forgot how deeply splendid this is. Sometimes I think he's my favourite.
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13 comments:
I read the whole Lydia of Purple page the first time you linked to it and I just read the whole thing again and it is still funny. And also creepy.
"Sixth daughter is 19 and always ready."
Just...eeew.
Just love the pic of third daughter. Is that cow licking her?
I think it is better for everyone if we don't ask about the cow.
You are very funny in Amsterdam and also in Montreal and London. That is tri-state funny. And I am not just saying that because you linked to me. (Which is lovely. I am sort of wishing that I hadn't elected to begin the week with a post about other people being constipated, but it is still lovely.)
I link to you BECAUSE of the constipation, not DESPITE it!!! I can only recommend 'Smooth Move', a 'herbal tea' given to me by a very amusing New York lady of my acquaintance. By jiminy!!!!!
If BBC weather told you was 29 degrees in Montreal Monday, it was another Montreal because this one was a chilly 16.
All your other links were terrific.
This working business has me worried though, and not just because I agreed to work all of July and most of August when I know I should have told them to get stuffed. I can't imagine not see the further adventures of Beaver the beaver. I had set my hopes on him meeting up with Otto the Otter.
I never said you weren't funny anymore!! I said I didn't want you to move away to Montreal and I was being silly and selfish! (I knew talking about that damn cat would never really make you want to come back.)
Obviously it is much better to be happy. You can live abroad and write a funny, happy blog!
(I, too, loved Katy N's post about the doctor's office. It was so... lifelike.)
Dear Other Readers: please note that I never said NWM wasn't funny anymore.
Dearest Ms B, I am not pointing the finger in the way of accusitoriness (new word), as I didn't think you meant it that way, just it got me to thinking and actually I think I am far less entertaining now I am sort of relaxed and quite cheerful.
Katy is a genius.
It's like having a comments box away from my comments box!
A colly - are you mad? Oh silly me, you're either going to get a flock of sheep to keep it busy or, more likely, teach it to do that quite entrancing dancing to music, but you'll have to practise kicking your leg up so it can weave backwards and forwards. How about Robbie's "Let me entertain you" - I can see you now, in a matching black and white outfit.
And as for that Katy Newton - what a joy. I would have just recommended weekly colonic irrigation - that would have shut them up. Oops, bad choice of words there.
Yaxlich shares your pain. He too found it much easier to blog with regularity when he had nothing to do or talk about. Ever since getting a job and meeting new people every day, he's hardly posted a word.
He still thinks you're funny, if that's any consolation.
Huh! I still think you are funny, and educational in a world way, too.
Firinstance - coffee the world over, cake animals, language, management skills tips, how to fall off a bike... and many, many more stuff I wouldna known about.
Do not go away, pleeze.(or, if you do, still write to us)
ps, you're not that badger woman off the telly at all, are you? there's something familiar there...
pps, I now love Katy Newton's blog, too.
Only "sometimes"? Harumphhh.
I have some more questions about woodchucks here. Let me know if you can help.
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