I update the playlist of my readers

Woo-weeeee, Daddy-O! Not bad, my friends, not bad: here is the most recent playlist constructed of songs submitted by you, my loyal and adoring readers. Not all of them have made it on, but that is more because of the length it already is than whether I like Placebo or not.




If you wish to submit yet another song in the meantime, simply go here:

Send me your track
Pip pip!

DJ Sir NWM

I prepare for Marguerite

Yes, my friends, it is true: after last week's astonishing spherical foodstuffs, many of you have, I know, been on the edge of your tenterhooks waiting to find out what this week's rummage (by the French-Canadian veterinary research histopathologist) into the box of Marguerite Patten 1967 recipe cards will yield - and therefore what delicious projects will be on my 'to cook' list this weekend.

You need wait no longer, for now all is revealed:












































So many questions. Why is there a medallion on the cake plate?  Is that corned beef? Is this really what Danish people eat?   And more to the point, how do you get the juice out of a cucumber?

Pip pip!

NWM

I need more songs

Do come along now, readers, we need more songs.  I have had a great number of submissions (some not yet 'uploaded'), but we are in need of some more jaunty tunes; the kind of tunes that make you want to skip and shout "hoorah!".

Here is where we are. To listen to it all, press the big orange 'play' button on the left. Or squeeze the life out of the individual 'tracks' (dread word) by pressing on them with your mouse.

Non-workingmonkey Clockwise Twirl Music by Nonworkingmonkey

And here is where to send me your bangin' choons:

Send me your track

No, I cannot explain the Lightfoot either.

Pip pip!

I am ashamed

I do not care anymore!!! I am going to "come out" about some things I wish I did not do. You will see that none of them will fit with your mental image of me, which, I am sure, involves a rather elegant, well-dressed, intellectually rigorous, well-educated simian with exquisite taste and a surprising line in small clay pipes.

But no. The truth is that amongst the things I enjoy, I include:

1. Watching "Gossip Girl" on my computer whilst eating biscuits, some evenings up to 5 of each

2. Looking at the Daily Mail website at least 10 times a day

3. Eating Chinese dumplings (meat unknown), cooked in the delicious juice of a Knorr chicken stock cube

4. Reading Harry Potter books and watching Harry Potter films and fucking loving them

5. Farmville

6. Flossing teeth and leaving used floss (with chunks) on floor/table

7. Pulling hairs out of chin with tweezers whilst watching "Fantasy Island" DVDs ($13.99, Ebay)

8. Buying 3 week old copies of "OK!" magazine for $10 at least twice a month

9. Something I cannot put on a blog my family read

10. Something I cannot put on a blog anyone I work with reads

11. Looking the fat cat in the face and saying "You LOVE me! You LOVE me! SAY IT. SAY IT."

12. Dangling fez tassel in my soup/absinthe then sucking it whilst watching "Canada's Next Top Model"

13. Dangling fez tassel in wine then sucking it whilst watching "America's Next Top Model"

14. Tapping small clay pipe firmly against tiny little monkey palms before filling it to settle down to Series 2 of "Australia's Next Top Model"

15. Wotsits. Hula Hoops, obviously, are nothing to be ashamed of. In fact, talking of Hula Hoops, does anyone know of a delicious Canadian equivalent?

Of these, the greatest shame is Farmville, a game in which you have a pretend farm, give each other rabbits, find that your plum trees are "16% ready" and spend hours and hours harvesting yellow melons that have been fertilized by your friends.  These are dark days, my friends. Dark days indeed.

Now I would like to hear one of yours (only one, mind, otherwise we'll be here all year); extra points if it smells slightly of cheese and desperation, like whatever it is that is underneath my big toenail.

I hope to make you go "aaaah" in a fluffy-kitten sort of way

I love all my readers, even the ones to whom I am related by blood (e.g. that dangerous pair, Monkeymother and Monkeyfather). I also embrace all your comments, particularly ones about my astonishing intelligence and/or good looks.

But to the point: a combination of indigestion, insomnia and wind screaming round the corners of our house in rural Quebec led me tonight to this old post, which is not in itself relevant (although obviously it is brilliant, so won't disappoint); the comments however are, because I eventually married the commenter (commentator?) known as "Johnnyboy" who, at that point in August 2006, I hadn't even met. Yes, friends, that's amore.