Saturday, 29 November 2008


I let the house go to rack and ruin and spent all day ‘polishing’ my latest book about vampires before I send it off. ‘Polishing’ really just means picking up all the really dumb arsed errors before your editor sees them and thinks you are a complete imbecile. That’s not to say your work does not have many other stupid errors you are too blind to see. I think when you have continually read over something you start to go blind to the mistakes. I do. I also tend to think – ‘oh, this will never sell. Should I send this? How long can I get away with not being as very good writer?’ So I am constantly amazed when I get a contract. Will I get a sale on this one? Who knows? It’s in the hands of fate and fate is a perverse bugger.

So, I spent a huge percentage of the day sitting on my arse. Thankfully it is padded enough to sustain such force. I remember going to this health and safety lecture once. The speaker was talking about the pounds per square inch – or whatever measure it was – you inflicted on your body when you stood and sat etc – and how terrible this was on your body on a whole. After being bored shitless for 30 minutes as she rattled on about the evils of standing and or sitting, all with the aid of her anally perfect graphs, I asked her a question. So what are we supposed to do? Sit or stand? She did not have an answer. My next question was why are we here then listening to you if you can give us no answer? Because it’s part of your health and safety training. What are you training us in? How not to sit or stand? Are we here to learn to hover above ground? The answer was no and if you cannot be pay attention then please leave the class. I left. So I have to ask why lecture people on a subject that is basically a time filler and what we would call a wank for her? Sit, stand…whatever…the force is going to be on your arse or your feet so why agonize? Flat feet? Fat arse? Take you pick.

Or if you don’t want to worry about either – come to paradise with me…no really. I know where it is. I was downstairs doing laundry and I pulled the tab on a box of washing powder and the tab said ‘this way to paradise.’ No – seriously. It was a bright pink box covered with frangipani flowers - I guess denoting exotic climes you can be transported to as you wash your clothes. So how many people read those tabs? I would suggest stuff all. Why did I? Not sure. Who gets paid to think up this stuff? Very lucky people with lots of time on their hands and no concept of reality. Do I believe paradise can be founding washing powder? Sure why not? Sniff enough of anything and you’re on a trip…

And lastly…this just sickens me.

A worker was killed in the crush on Friday after a throng of shoppers eager for bargains burst through the doors at a suburban Wal-Mart , authorities said.
"He was bum-rushed by 200 people," co-worker Jimmy Overby, 43, told the Daily News. "They took the doors off the hinges. He was trampled and killed in front of me. They took me down too. ... I literally had to fight people off my back."

Killing for a bargain. How proud and accomplished those people must feel that they got something else by trampling another. I think that reflects the state of the world. May I never be so thoughtlessly greedy…it’s plain evil.
Go ahead: Live with abandon. Be outrageous at any age. What are you saving your best self for?