Wednesday, September 19, 2007
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
Day 434: I Say Goodbye To London In Preparation For My Imminent Departure For French Canadia
There was a bit of crying (and not just in our pants) in Charlotte Street, and some sticking of heads out of the back of a black cab shouting, "At least I'm ALLOWED to fucking hate it, it's MINE, I was BORN here", as we whipped over Westminster Bridge*. It was quite sad, but not that sad.
It looked a bit like this:
And like this:
A bit more water spurted out of my eyes uncontrollably (which I do not like; it is extremely annoying and makes my lips swell, for some reason), and then we came back and put this on and did bad dancing:
I think we woke up my cretinous upstairs neighbour Twatboy, so I felt better for a while. But I am tired now and want to be in Quebec, lying still and warm.
* I don't like Wordsworth. He annoys me. He had stupid hair and spent too much time wandering around the Lake District pointing things out (e.g. hosts of daffodils) with his walking stick whilst trying not to have inappropriate thoughts about his sister Dorothy.
Anyway, this poem about Westminster Bridge in the early morning. (If you go to the London Eye, they have it up on the wall but break it weirdly, so it doesn't make sense.) It is still exactly what it is like, and it goes like this:
Earth has not anything to show more fair:
Dull would he be of soul who could pass by
A sight so touching in its majesty:
This City now doth, like a garment, wear
The beauty of the morning; silent, bare,
Ships, towers, domes, theatres, and temples lie
Open unto the fields, and to the sky;
All bright and glittering in the smokeless air.
Never did sun more beautifully steep
In his first splendour, valley, rock, or hill;
Ne'er saw I, never felt, a calm so deep!
The river glideth at his own sweet will:
Dear God! the very houses seem asleep;
And all that mighty heart is lying still!
It would be pretty perfect if it wasn't for the "ne'er" and the exclamation marks. I hate that shit.
It looked a bit like this:
And like this:
A bit more water spurted out of my eyes uncontrollably (which I do not like; it is extremely annoying and makes my lips swell, for some reason), and then we came back and put this on and did bad dancing:
I think we woke up my cretinous upstairs neighbour Twatboy, so I felt better for a while. But I am tired now and want to be in Quebec, lying still and warm.
* I don't like Wordsworth. He annoys me. He had stupid hair and spent too much time wandering around the Lake District pointing things out (e.g. hosts of daffodils) with his walking stick whilst trying not to have inappropriate thoughts about his sister Dorothy.
Anyway, this poem about Westminster Bridge in the early morning. (If you go to the London Eye, they have it up on the wall but break it weirdly, so it doesn't make sense.) It is still exactly what it is like, and it goes like this:
Earth has not anything to show more fair:
Dull would he be of soul who could pass by
A sight so touching in its majesty:
This City now doth, like a garment, wear
The beauty of the morning; silent, bare,
Ships, towers, domes, theatres, and temples lie
Open unto the fields, and to the sky;
All bright and glittering in the smokeless air.
Never did sun more beautifully steep
In his first splendour, valley, rock, or hill;
Ne'er saw I, never felt, a calm so deep!
The river glideth at his own sweet will:
Dear God! the very houses seem asleep;
And all that mighty heart is lying still!
It would be pretty perfect if it wasn't for the "ne'er" and the exclamation marks. I hate that shit.
Day 433: I Have Broken My Blog
Well, sort of. I have tried to update the template and it has gone a bit upside down.
On the other hand, it's only the sidebar fluff; the consistently excellent content that makes up the body of work known as "the archive" is, happily, intact - in fact, thanks to the new 'drop down menu' that I have put on, is awfully easy to have a look at.
(Have a go, if you like; this time last year, for example, this blog was quite good. It's been downhill ever since.)
I shall return when the sidebar is not broken anymore.
Pip pip!
NWM
P.S. If you have disappeared from the links list and would like to be reinstated, please let me know (in privit if you like).
On the other hand, it's only the sidebar fluff; the consistently excellent content that makes up the body of work known as "the archive" is, happily, intact - in fact, thanks to the new 'drop down menu' that I have put on, is awfully easy to have a look at.
(Have a go, if you like; this time last year, for example, this blog was quite good. It's been downhill ever since.)
I shall return when the sidebar is not broken anymore.
Pip pip!
NWM
P.S. If you have disappeared from the links list and would like to be reinstated, please let me know (in privit if you like).
Day 433: I Offer My Readers Some Excellent Advice
If you get up from your restless bed to slurp down some sleeping pills, do not accidentally swallow someone else's Dulco-Lax instead.
Monday, September 17, 2007
Day 433: I Watch A Commercial
"You're English. You're supposed to join the WI* and live in a village and be a judge in flower shows. You were made to be here. You can't just go off and live in Canada."
"That is all well and good, friend", I burble in response. "But I don't really want to live here anymore. And anyway, I am fond of someone who lives in Canada and I would like to see him more often."
It is true. I don't want to live here, and I am fond of someone in Canada. I still like lots of English things though: the people I like, Hula-Hoops and commercials for Marmite** with Paddington Bear in them, for example:
My imminent departure is obviously making me sentimental: I always hated Paddington Bear.
* For foreign readers: the WI is the Womens' Institute. Their website cocks on about 'modern opportunities for today's women', when in fact the WI is about:
- dusty village halls
- talks from semi-famous people about weird shit, e.g. fossils and/or the Himalayas
- baking
- the country
- flowers in the church
** Once again, for foreign readers: Marmite is the elixir of youth. There are very few foreigners who like it. The ones who do are usually found to have pioneering spirits and a palate of steel.
"That is all well and good, friend", I burble in response. "But I don't really want to live here anymore. And anyway, I am fond of someone who lives in Canada and I would like to see him more often."
It is true. I don't want to live here, and I am fond of someone in Canada. I still like lots of English things though: the people I like, Hula-Hoops and commercials for Marmite** with Paddington Bear in them, for example:
My imminent departure is obviously making me sentimental: I always hated Paddington Bear.
* For foreign readers: the WI is the Womens' Institute. Their website cocks on about 'modern opportunities for today's women', when in fact the WI is about:
- dusty village halls
- talks from semi-famous people about weird shit, e.g. fossils and/or the Himalayas
- baking
- the country
- flowers in the church
** Once again, for foreign readers: Marmite is the elixir of youth. There are very few foreigners who like it. The ones who do are usually found to have pioneering spirits and a palate of steel.
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