Friday, 31 July 2009

Confession fail

My confessions:




1. I am very tired and pathetic after spending the week drinking cocktails and tottering round London inappropriately dressed. It is also very late since I have just got back to Brussels (and why does the house smell of sileage? Perhaps best if I don't enquire too closely. Is that even how you spell it? Silage/Sileage? Countryfolk?) on the last train AND I had to find a cash machine AND my taxi smelled like something had died in there and not too recently. As a consequence this will be a SHIT confessional, and I have no idea when I will be able to dispense penance. So. I suggest either you turn on each other and establish some kind of comments box martial law, or you go all Opus Dei on me and punish YOURSELVES.




Actually, no. I have a better idea: we should leave penance in the hands of the monsters from the Guardian's guide to Monsters of Greek Mythology.

Which guest confesser will you choose?

Will it be number 1: Tennis skirt wearing, baby wielding cow?



Number 2: "Holy fuck Leo, I TOLD you not to let the cubs swim in that power station effluent"


Number 3: "My tail is the least of your worries"


Or my personal favourite, Number 4: Dignified tentacle chicken head dragon?



I will eventually waft back like a wrathful deity and do some smiting, but the CFO will be up at 5 tomorrow twitching and prodding me until we set off (probably at 6h30 if I am lucky) to 'avoid the worst of the traffic' (for which read: 'arrive 3 hours early').




2. I haven't finished M's work and she is going to kick my ass.



3. All of my meals today have been cake. Not even good cake, most of it.




4. I am suffering the sin of despair faced with two weeks of dubious or nil connectivity in the Normandy countryside. Noone knows whether there is an internet connection, but I have dark fears. The Normandy countryside is essentially unchanged since the Bayeux Tapestry, but with more shotguns and pyschotropic medicines. I do not know if I am strong enough to withstand this. Actually, who the fuck am I kidding, I know perfectly well that I will need to be under heavy sedation after three days cold turkey. I am weaselling around to find the best way to evade this.



Huh. I told you it would be shit. Also, I have actually been quite well behaved this month so big fat gold star for me. Or maybe a big fat kick from the chicken tentacle dragon, I will let you be the judge.

19 comments:

westendmum said...

Big gold star to you.
No internet? Arrrrrrrgh.
Time to get those 40,000 words down then.
x

Red Shoes said...

First and foremost, Dignified Tentacle Chicken Head Dragon is totally the name of my new avant garde, experimental rock band that I am starting any minute now.

b. I choose My Tail Is the Least Of Your Worries for my penance because OMG, I love him.

3. I hate that you are going away from the Internets again. Bah fooey.

As for my sins, hmmm.... I will go have a nice bath instead of working and ponder them. Will be back later to confess all.

Julia Ball said...

I will be seeing Dr and Mrs Cabybara tomorrow strangely enough, I will pass on your lacklustre attempt at securing connectivity in Normandy and await his sage musings :-) May even post pictures, if he permits it.

screamish said...

yah for chicken tentacle thing. I seem to vaguely remember your Normandy exile last year..I think i remember you found sneaky ways to post despite internet deprivation...

why did they feel the need to put a tennis skirt on that thing in the first picture? is this a kids' book? i mean it's a mythological being of wrath and destruction, and it's a little shy about its family jewels?? really?

Anonymous said...

Presumably Normandy has mobile reception. Presumably you have a mobile. Plug your mobile into your laptop and use that as a modem - and keep us updated. Problem solved. None of US want to go cold turkey on the waffle front...

Jaywalker said...

Anon/ W1 Mum - Update on connectivity: CFO assures me there is broadband. You will get your waffle I promise.

Red Shoes: Please please form that band. Please, please please. I will make you vegetable cover art for your difficult second album.

Julia: MRS Capybara? He's married? He never told me that!

Screamish: you made me snort, well played. I daren't think what lurks beneath the tennis skirt..

Anonymous said...

So, a couple of weeks of Norman Waffle? I think that may have been the name of that small, snivelling boy I knew in infants school....

Julia Ball said...

JayWalker, he is indeed married, I will provide photographic evidence later when I get back, that is, if I can work out how to upload a picture onto here.

Now, as to what is under the tennis skirt, I think that there is NOTHING, he is just covering his embarrassment, ok, it is quite embarrassing that is with a girlie tennis skirt but not as devastating as people discovering that he has been gelded !

Z said...

Here in Norfolk, county of dumplings and normal (for Norfolk) people, it mostly reeks of silage. Although any true Norfolk-and-good resident can tell what animal has been in the shed just by sniffing.

Mya said...

Hope you conquer the traffic en route to Normandy - it's one of those black days. Why do the French always have to do everything at the same bloody time? Are you sure CFO is being truthful about the broadband? If there is no internet, you can pointedly ignore him whilst reading your new 'Why the French are so Annoying' book. Sorry - having unsatisfactory French interface problems here at present.Quoi neuf?
Mya x

bevchen said...

Your Tail is the Least of My Worries please. I love it!

Confessions?? Oh, umm. I shall have to think... Being stuck in the house all day for almost an entire month doesn't really leave much room for sinning. I'm sure I must have done something bad though...

tragicanon said...

confession... having recently been diagnosed with liver damage, i have been on an alcohol free, diary free, glucose free, fun free diet...
broke it yesterday with peach schnapps...
don't know what's more horrifying, the fact i broke the diet or the fact i did it with peach schnapps...
and i like the old man with the tale, he reminds me of my father...

livesbythewoods said...

Why does My Tail Is the Least Of Your Worries need a walking stick?

I have committed the mighty sin of WRATH. Mostly righteous fury, but still. Bear with me, it will pass.

Eventually.

Till then, I'll be imagining ancient fish-tailed evil faced wrinklies poking me with their redundant sticks as penance.

wv is polopre...sounds like a kind of skin nodule that you have to have burned off by thre wart doctor

Jon in France said...

Z - this is absolutly true. I was born in Norfolk and can tell not just by smell but by sight, touch, hearing and (on unfortuante occasions) taste just what animal is in the shed.

I pity poor townies who have lost their inante ability to do this.

A Woman Of No Importance said...

Dr Capybara's prescription - Take 3 weeks in Normandy, 47 crepes Chantilly and a crate of Calvados... Rest well.

Ca suffit, JW?

Mwa said...

Poor you. The Normandy countryside is terrible enough with an internet connection.

Top Bird @ Wee Birdy said...

Don't turn on me, but I rather like Normandy, and would quite happily do dreadful things for there WITHOUT freaking Facebook, Twitter, blogs, et al.

You have no idea how much I want to see the Bayeaux tapestry. And surely there are quite a few good Catholic churches with bits of saints' bones to look at.

See, I'm quite dull/freakish, really.

But Monet's garden and fields of poppies and cornflowers aren't bad, either... are they?? xx

Jaywalker said...

I really REALLY have the internet. Nathan be praised. Norman Waffle is live.

Z - I think I need you and Jon in France to come round and have a sniff of my house, because there is definitely something living there. Something other than the weepette that is.

Mya - after a shaky start yesterday when the modem tried to eat my hand it is really, truly, working. And only the odd half hour at péages. You have to be a bit odd to go from Brussels to Normandy on holiday.

tragicanon - oh god. Not peach schnapps. I am shaking my head sorrowfully. Your damaged liver deserves better.

LBTW - I'm sure that stick is purely for poking purposes. Also, I like wrath. I have a lot of time for it. You will not be getting penance for that.

Jon - repulsive. Quite quite repulsive. And I know you have a vestigial tail and webbed fingers.

Woman - it sounds quite satisfactory. The house comes with a FRITEUSE too, so we are scenting it with rancid cooking oil. And there is one of those huts that sells candyfloss and mr whippy about 10 feet away. WIN.

Mwa - It will be good for me. It's my penance for months of badness. Also, internet. Phew.

TopBird - you are wrong in the head. Do you look anything like me? We could smuggle you in here and I would go back to London and go to shops, which is my idea of heaven as we have already established about a million times.

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