I am told about a dream

It is breakfast time!!! We are gnawing eggs, drinking coffee, thrusting toast into our gaping maws, etc. The person I am having breakfast with (a French-Canadian self-haircutting veterinary research pathologist) speaks:

"I dreamt about monkeys last night.

There were some monkeys there, all together.

(Silence.)

In the closet. Yes. They were in the closet.

(Silence.)

Also, some marine mammals. Yes. The monkeys were with the marine mammals.

(Silence.)

Oh. They were in a boat.
Yes. They were in a boat. They were going to be released.

The monkeys. And the sea mammals."

Now we are going on holiday. It is not a moment too soon, in my opinion!!!!


(I am also adding "quaffing" to the banned words list - if you need know why, you may no longer read my web-blog.)

I ban more words

We are not doing badly! I am not including "sofa" (there is nothing wrong with the word - in fact, I would go so far as to to say it is correct); "Chesterfield" is harmless if used correctly; "couch" is ghastly and I won't have it, as is settee, but neither is revolting in quite the way I mean. (I know what I mean, and I am choosing whether words qualify or not; so if you do not agree that is a shame, but I will not be moved.)

New words at the top of the list; the originals below for your enjoyment. If you have submitted a word that qualifies, you will be rewarded by a link, to which enthusiastic leaders may gain access by pressing their 'mouse' (or somesuch!) on the word you have submitted. (I have said it before and I will say it again: the internets are astonishing, and I admire them very much.)

Hosiery
Classy
Upcoming (as in, "upcoming nuptials")
Ramblings
Glistening
Crispy
Pan-fried
Pad
Methinks (she's absolutely right on both of those and her blog is fucking ace, so press on those ones with your mouse)
Pouch (she's got a web-blog but she wouldn't thank me for making you look at it)
Sliver (from the magnificent Monkeymother, who is a my mother)
Must, as in "a must for all visitors" (excellent submission from an anonymous fan)
Meal
Pardon (as in, "beg pardon?")


Morsel
Moist
Crusted
Replete
Gusset
Soiled
Thinly (when used with "sliced")
Glistening
Goitre
Membrane
Writings
Pert
Freshly (...milled, squeezed, made, baked, etc)
Crusty (as in, "crusty white loaf")

And now I must pack my suitcase (not my "luggage"; my suitcase, or suitcases - the very idea of matching luggage is appalling in the extreme), for I am going to California tomorrow. But do not let this deter you from sending in more words; they have the internet in America too, and I will be making good use of it.

Pip pip!!!

I am banning some words

Morsel
Moist
Crusted
Replete
Gusset
Soiled
Thinly (when used with "sliced")
Glistening
Goitre
Membrane
Writings*
Pert
Freshly (...milled, squeezed, made, baked, etc)
Crusty (as in, "crusty white loaf")

Any more for any more? I will simply build this list until it contains all the horrid words ever created, and this is the truth.


* Which reminds me - I really do urge you, if you haven't already, to visit this, the most self-satisfied blog in the world. The advertising industry already has a dodgy enough reputation without chaps like this making it worse. And don't forget to try and leave a comment - you almost certainly won't be able to !

I always hated "The Story Of The Blues"

"Full time twat", more like.

I consider advertising for friends

My existing friends - who I have collected over the years much as a collecting type might collect rare butterflies, jewels or spiders - are insufferably selfish and have chosen to stay where they are (e.g. London, Amsterdam, New York, Sydney, Bedford, San Fransisco, Little Tew, Glasgow, etc) rather than moving to Montreal so they can be my friends at my leisure and at my convenience.
Because they are all bastards, I am going to have to replace them all - but the question is: how?

I have met a few wankers over the last two years, but none of them have been in Montreal (which is where I live - there were a couple of close 'wanker!' calls in Toronto, mind you, but what did you expect?); one particularly gigantic wanker that springs to mind is*:

Mr Dave, of Dave and Dave Estate Agents, London . This vile little man was the freeholder of the flat I have just sold in Brixton. A deceitful, avaricious, dishonest little shit; if you find this post by searching for him, drop me an email at nonworkingmonkey@mac.com and I'll tell you why you should avoid all dealings with him if you value your a) sanity; b) self-respect. (Subsequent note, April 2010: I won't testify, give evidence etc, so don't ask, but I will happily make you feel that you are not alone with the little sod.  If you are buying a flat/house etc and this man owns the freehold, tread very, very carefully.)  With any luck by now he's afflicted by anal boils, but just in case - if you happen to live near him, could you slip a note under his door that reads: "You, sir, are a cunt"? Cheers.

But: to the point. I am in Montreal, which is remarkably wanker-free, so it is relatively easy to meet people you would like to see again. I need English friends for the same reasons I had my English friends in England (lunchtime drinking, sending each other photographs of enormous cats, talking about Rhubarb and Custard, etc)**, but it is quite hard to find English people in Montreal, so I am going to have to advertise.

Here is the advertisement I am in the middle of composing; I may post it to "Craig's List" or similar. Who can tell. OK here goes.

WANTED: English (from England) people in Montreal needed for lunchtime drinking with English (from England OR British from the British Isles, e.g. Scottish, Welsh - also Irish, North or South) person, also in Montreal.

I look good in a fez, enjoy absinthe, pulling on my small clay pipe and eating Hula-Hoops (when in Great Britain). I like Canadians a lot but most of them do not get most of my jokes (and it is not because I am not funny).

YOU are not an idiot, and get annoyed when people tell you they think your accent is cute. You do not only 'hang out' with other English people because you know that just because you are English does not mean you have anything in common with each other. You may well be called Tony, Paul or Helen. (If you are called Julie or Marie-something, you are definitely French Canadian and will not be able to deceive me.)


It is OK if:

You have Marmite in your cupboard and/or buy it from Fouvrac on Laurier Est for $3.75 for an appropriately bilingual jar

You can't answer when they ask you what kind of tea English people drink all day

You might have heard about The Sparrow but don't want to look like a massive cock by going in and ordering Bubble and Squeak in an English voice

The idea of being called an 'ex pat' makes you a bit sick in your mouth

You can speak French, what with living in Montreal and all

You do not secretly wish you were in Toronto

You think the CBC is a bit rubbish and think the Canadian dragons are wetsies

You find it mildly entertaining that Michael Ignatieff is no longer on BBC2 being an intellectual, but instead possibly going to be the next Prime Minister of Canada

You like drinking at lunchtime

It is not OK if:

You cock on about how great England/the UK is the whole time like a spazzer

You order British food online

You do not have any Canadian friends

You wish you were there, not here

You keep Googling "expat clubs Montreal".



What do you think? Will it work? Any tips?


* Eagle-eyed readers will have noticed the removal of my previous reference to this person.

** NB: this is as much for the person I am marrying as it is for me, as he does not like talking about for e.g. fishfingers and the Observer magazine or what-have-you.