Wednesday, 30 September 2009

Ratshit Tuesday

You know how occasionally bloggers say "there is loads going on but I can't write about it"? And instantly you think, sourly, to yourself "I bet they have a book deal, or a screen play bought or some other fucking amazing thing going on, the bastard"? And you get all jealous and enraged and self-pitying? And can't help hating them a little bit?



No?



Just me then. I'm the only mean spirited trollop in the internet house tonight.



Anyway. At the moment I frequently find myself thinking (as I sit, fingers poised above the keyboard, staring soulfully into the middle distance for inspiration in the manner of a lady novelist photographed for a women's magazine) "there is loads going on at the moment but I can't write about it". And being a mean spirited trollop and tarring you with my mean spirited trollop brush (sorry); I wanted to reassure you: none of it is GOOD. It is a heap of separation related ratshit and not fit for interweb consumption.

Yes. I said 'separation' and not some coy euphemism, for once. Let's call a heap of ratshit a heap of ratshit. It will all be fine and we are both behaving impeccably, but it's still shit.


In the meantime, I am finding that the following help:

1. Mono-food meals, particularly where the single food is either crisps or chocolate. Or indeed alcohol, see 2 below.

2. Drinking heavily once a week on average (it takes me a week to recover, I have the impulse control of a 17 year old boy in the body of a 92 year old woman)

3. Bribing the weepette to let me lay my head on its silky neck hair.

4. Insulting the days of the week in French with my brain twin M. If you feel you would like to try this self-help remedy, let me set it out for you here:

Lundi, tu suces

Mardi, espèce d'enculé

Mecredi, saloperie

Jeudi, gros bâtard

Vendredi, petit con

M stops here, because she enjoys the weekend. I continue:

Samedi, fils de pute

Dimanche , tu pues du cul.

This might be a lovely way to teach your children the days of the week in French, non?

On that thoroughly edifying note, I shall leave you tonight. But at least you know that if I am being coy it is only because I am wading through ratshit, not fighting off media types with swathes of banknotes with a big stick. Sadly.

31 comments:

Julia Ball said...

Have a big virtual Hug! It must be so tough on you all.

L. said...

But you SHOULD be fending off media types etc. etc.! And I'm not just saying that because of the ratshit. I'm really sorry that things are so rotten right now.

I bemoan to anyone who will listen (not many) how much I regret taking Spanish instead of French. Now I have one more reason to do so. I have some learn-yourself-some-French tapes I've been meaning to listen to, but somehow I doubt they would help much with translation in this case--more's the pity.

omchelsea said...

If they're media whores, can't you pay one to come onto you so you have to fend it off?

redfox said...

I am exactly that kind of mean spirited trollop. Oh LA LA isn't it fabulous to be YOU, notional person with secret glorious success and wonderful projects! followed by self loathing and further cycles of jealous irritation ad nauseam.

That said, I wish you were in the throes of something distinctly more glorious than piles of ratshit. Sorry.

Mildly amusingly, I just went to copy "nauseam" so I could go check and see if I was spelling it right, but hit the key combination for paste instead, which produced the phrase "jealous irritation ad Health-Nut".

CureForCrazy said...

You might just inspire me to learn some more French. I couldn't figure out Mecredi.

I'm sorry things aren't going well.

Soda and Candy said...

I actually always assume if they can't write about it, it must be bad. Because who wouldn't want to write about good things?

Life is a gros bâtard sometimes, is it not? On a related note, I always thought a batard was a loaf of bread, but perhaps not.

Jocelyn said...

And thusly I am introduced to you. That you have used both "ratshit" and French endears you to me forever.

Even if you never can share any of the mounds of interesting angst you're currently trapped in, I'll be back...'cuz even when you're trying not to drink a lot, you're really amusing.

Margaret said...

Waffle, so sorry about the crap. Eat a salad once in a while so you don't get scurvy and maybe an occasional steak to keep up your strength for the drinking. I'm also a jealous, hate-filled bitch, so you're not alone.

M. said...

Mercredi, nique ta mère. Saloooopeeeeeuuuuuuh.

livesbythewoods said...

Well, if it helps at all, I've got tons of stuff I'm not blogging about. And no book deal. I just can't bear the thought of writing them all down and making everyone else feel as bad as I do about it all.

Chin up matey, things will stop feeling quite so dreadful eventually.

Leatherdykeuk said...

Chin-chin, old thing. Worse things happenn at sea and all that.

Grit said...

you have huge sympathies from here, dear jaywalker, and you do not need to share all with t'internet. there are positive things. they are only temporarily submerged under ratshit.

Cassandra said...

As you know, nothing exciting here, just heavy, heavy shit that I can't blog about either. At least you're remaining consistent, Jaywalker. This is the mentalist who started a blog, announced she was stopping blogging, started again, deleted blog number 1, started another, said she was stopping, started again, all the while consumed with paranoia. (Not to mention the Just One Cornetto one that died after just three posts!) So I say WELL DONE to you for keeping buggering on, with all sorts of things.

My WV is punhut!Like Pizza Hut, but no stuffed crust.

Cassandra said...

And talking of Pizza Hut, aren't those salad bowls GREAT?!!! You justg fill them up with tatties and that lovely crispy bacon stuff and croutons and just the odd leaf then carry the whole wobbling thing to your horrid little plastic table. EPIC.

Z said...

Like any bereavement, it won't be fine, it will just be something you learn to live alongside. It's been apparent that your decision has been made, and I suppose that the reasons are sound, but I'm so sorry about it, and I'm so sorry for your unhappiness.

Ali said...

Oh darling. Separation is crap, crap and more crap. It's funny, you never think, when getting into a relationship, what it will actually take to disentangle two lives. I am on husband number two and I am not getting another divorce come hell or high water,
I'm sorry it's so hard. Do try to pop a vitamin capsule or something.

Kitschen Pink said...

I always think "well if you can't talk about it how f___ing boring of you to mention it at all".
Enjoy much chocolate and alcohol. You have the perfect excuse. Just remember you recover from both more quickly if they are each of exceptional quality. t.x

Minnie said...

Have been reading your witty, pithy writing with great enjoyment - if there was such a thing as justice, the media tarts would definitely be beating down your door. Here's hoping on your behalf.
Admire your humour in adversity: chapeau! And congratulations on your self-restraint. Have always regretted spilling beans (and on the 'Net, remember, the little buggers STAY spilt).
Take heart: things change; you have plentiful advantages, and pickyourownplatitude (one of the most snarl-inspiring things about cliches and triusms is that they ... make sense!).
Finally, there's always rat poison.

Anonymous said...

I am your imaginary friend who can't remember her Yahoo ID (hence the anon). But I just wanted to say I was Ratshit Tuesday Harridan Queen last night, and had I known yours was going similarly well, I might have felt a bit better. Or at least not savaged those closest to me. Or perhaps posted sweary biscuit pictures before eating them in a hormonal frenzy.
Please continue to share those ratshit moments. It's your civic duty.

Iheartfashion said...

I don't know why publishers aren't beating down your door with book deals, as I consider you the female Belgian David Sedaris-crossed-with-David Rakoff. That's high praise, if it wasn't obvious.

bevchen said...

There are lots of things I don't blog about. Like pretty much anything that goes on in my relationship, ever. There are certain things you just can't publish when you know your boyfriend's younger sister occasionally reads your blog...

Sorry to hear things are so shit for you. Try to eat something proper once in a while, if only to soak up the alcohol.

Hänni said...

When someone blogs that they are going through something they can't talk about, I ALWAYS assume its ratshit. but that's mostly b/c I've been right where you are babe (but without the silky weepette to bring me bribery-induced comfort).

Jaywalker said...

Julia - thank you so much. The weepette is bony and pathetic and no good at hugs.

L - you are lovely. I will be happy to provide you with translations of any French rudeness, and phonetic prononciation if you like.

omchelsea - I think you might have spotted a fantastic business opportunity there; pay to have your ego stroked.

redfox - I am relieved there is another mean spirited trollop out there. We could form a club.

CureforCrazy - if you can't figure anything out just say it in English with a French accent. It's amusing, if ineffective.

Soda & Candy - a bâtard is BOTH. And a mongrel. marvellous language.

Jocelyn - oh, you are too kind. And I have no discipline or principles so I will share it eventually I am sure, in one form or another.

Margaret - it is so comforting to be have jealous hate filled bitches around. Mmmmm. Steak. This evening I had a cheeky melange of leftover sweetcorn and dorito crumbs. It was audacious.

M - je te previens mercredi, si je vois ton sale gueule de con ici encore, je vais te foutre une raclée.

LBTW - I know, and enormous hugs to you

Leatherdyke - that is entirely true. And tonight I am actually quite serene. Hurrah.

Grit - thank you loveliest one. And yes, you are right. All manner of positives.

Cassandra - punhut sounds like a lameass comedy club, doesn't it?

Z - you're right of course. And thank you.

Ali - since discovering the fun of letting a Berocca fizz on your tongue like a penny chew I am all about the vitamins. Thanks for the support, lovely.

KP - yes, but my cheap n nasty proletarian tastes demand tescos value gin and dairy milk. What to do?

Minnie - thank you so much. I try to limit rat poison to a small swig on Sundays..

Anon - now I want to start a sort of anti-pageant for the title "Ratshit Tuesday Harridan Queen". It would be GREAT.


Iheart - it's outrageously, unfairly high praise, and thank you so much xx

Jaywalker said...

Bevchen - very sensible. I mean, that could be nasty.

Hänni - yes I read your blog... It sounded like a whole world of ratshit. Way worse than this.

Susan said...

The last time I wrote that "can't write about it" line, I was caring for a friend who was incapacitated but not incapacitated enough to keep from chucking the occasional vase at me.

She's better now. And she has terrible aim.

Juci said...

So sorry about the ratshit. We were watching Desperate Housewives last night and there was a dialogue that reminded me very much of you.
Tom: Mmm. What do I smell?
Lynnette: Despair. Mortality. Paralyzing fear.
Tom: Oh. I thought it was waffles.
Hang in there, JW.

magpie said...

Why is it so often the case that the best comfort during times when it is raining ratshit are really really old easter eggs from the back of the cupboard and cheese? Oh, and hazlenut ice cream. In vast quantities. Sometimes eaten with a fork because there's no clean spoons.

Minnie said...

How silly of me, Waffler, to have failed to make it clear that I meant the rat poison for the rats - NOT you!
That ruined what was otherwise (certainly intended to be) an appreciative and supportive comment.

Metropolitan Mum said...

If I was a publisher, I'd give you a deal for a children's book - bilinguality is SO important these days. And now all together: Lundi, tu suces... Mardi, espèce d'enculé... Mecredi, saloperie...

JChevais said...

Skimming back from your post of today (October 20th) to figure out what's going on.

I see. I'm sorry.

Last year I had ratshit happening so I understand where you're coming from. I had been MIA blogwise due to a sickness brought on by mental harrassment at work which later led to what I thought was the demise of my marriage. It was awful.

Unfortunately, new beginnings spring from periods of ratshit.

That doesn't help now. But your new home sounds quite nice and after a month or two, you'll have sloughed off the weight of an old life.

I sincerely hope you find peace. You deserve it.

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