Thursday, 22 October 2009


My brain is a festering, tangled nest of rubbish at the moment. It probably looks a bit like the desk in the hall, but pinker.

(Look away, those of a nervous disposition. Or scroll down, there's a puppy!)

Do NOT, whatever you do, enlarge this photo.

Here are some of the tiny crackling synapses that are preventing me from stringing a thought, or a sentence, together in any meaningful way. Do not try to answer them, unless it entertains you to do so.

- Is that thing on my chest a bite, a spot, or a nest of baby tarantulas? It's a nest of baby tarantulas, isn't it? It's going to explode one evening when I'm on my own in the new house and the baby tarantulas are going to crawl out and eat my face and lay new eggs in my spinal fluid aren't they?

- Will I get a place at the Bust London Craftacular in December to sell arse biscuits (please, please please Bust)?

- Will I ever leave the house - this one or the one to come - in the evening again? Would I even know what to do if I did? Am I doomed to sit hunched over a laptop forever in my old man dressing gown, staring sourly at the dog?

- (Hang on, why did I get a dog? Actually I know this one. Because I am VERY STUPID and have no impulse control. And he used to look like this:


- Is there a fridge in the new house? Shall I buy one from the crazed witch down the street who is selling one, along with the rest of the contents of her house, including a piece of furniture so complex it requires a diagram in her shaky old lady handwriting, and incorporates a BED?

- Shall I buy the complex bed incorporating piece of furniture too just for kicks (I bet it would make a good climbing frame)?

- Why the fuck am I avidly watching Masterchef, when I have eaten nothing but leftover child pasta and Cadbury's Mini Rolls all week?

- Why do I feel so dirty when I am in fact quite clean today? Is it perhaps related to diet of leftover pasta and Mini Rolls? Or is it symptomatic of the state of my filthy, slovenly brain?

Place your questions in the comments and I, or the internet, will try to answer them.


Margaret said...

Do you know what flesh-eating bacteria is? It's probably that.

How many hours of construction-equipment-backing-up safety beeps can a person take before she embarks on a murderous rampage? (I'm at 6 hours, 43 minutes, so far. I'm timing it with my iPhone's stopwatch.)

Waffle said...

Margaret - Hmm. I reckon you probably have about 12 more minutes. What weapon are you thinking? Ooh necrotising thingy thingy. That would be the glamour option, wouldn't it?

H said...

Erm, I know what you mean, but isn't "arse biscuits" a euphemism? I am not sure you should be selling them, even if you do have a dog.

L. said...

What exactly is the source of the major plumbing disaster that just caused the toilet and washing machine to jointly drench the downstairs bath and a section of kitchen in water? How much will it cost to fix? Why did it happen just before my mother is scheduled to arrive after a four-hour drive? Will my kitchen floor ever feel clean again? These are my questions and NO, I am not happy to be asking them.

(* Okay, I am cheating somewhat, since I know the answers to most of these, i.e.: 2--a lot, 3--because that's how it's done, 4--no.)

Liberty London Girl said...

My spider bite was a deer TICK. And what I thought was a skin tag was the tick embedded in my thigh. I had to remove it with tweezers. Ah. Country living. LLGxx

Anonymous said...

Nest of baby tarantulas without a doubt. But too late! They've already entered your spinal fluid. How do you think they arrived at your chest? Or I suppose it could be leprosy. Or possibly leprotic baby tarantulas who will forever wriggle under your skin because they're not strong enough to break free.
Scratch all that. Margaret has diagnosed correctly.

You will never leave the house again and are doomed to sit in your smelly old mans dressing gown gazing at your laptop. Eventually your once upon a time cute puppy will eat your face. But don't hunch. Posture!


Rachel Green said...

Oh! Weepette is such a cutie!

I think you ought to crochet arse biscuits and sell them on ETSY

MargotLeadbetter said...

Is sleeping sickness actually a genuine thing that a person can get in the North of England where no tsetse flies or other tropical thingys live? Or is this some sort of weeklong hangover from that bellyful of mojitos I had on Saturday night? Or, am I hibernating?

(If it's b, I have no regrets)

Waffle said...

Fran! "Leprotic Baby Tarantulas" is the name of my new Belgian band. I am glad to have all my worst fears confirmed anyway. I knew he was eyeing up my face. I
am however sitting up much straighter since reading your comment, so thank you!

LLG - UGH. Was it huge? Ack. Actually don't answer that, I don't want to know.

L - probably a nest of leprotic baby tarantulas.

Helena - I will not call them arse biscuits at the fair thingy. Honest.

Anonymous said...

Oh and question: Is your dressing gown literally an old man's? I ask because there's a shivering old chap outside my supermarket looking rather under dressed.


P.S WV is shagga - which might bode well for...somebody.

H said...

OK, but you have to promise. My imaginary band this week is called Cataplasm. Apparenty it is a type of poultice?!

Mrs Jones said...

Why the hell have I agreed to spend two weeks in Budapest in the middle of November acting as unpaid nurse to my 72-year old mother who's going to have a tummy tuck and liposuction so she can look good in a swimsuit for her 3-month sojourn in Florida and Jamaica this winter? This is the wrong way round, surely?

Waffle said...

Leatherdyke - he was cute. Now he's neurotically elegant and high maintenance. But one wouldn't abandon a child for that (much as one might want to), so I am extending that principle to weepette.

Margot - Maybe you didn't have enough melted cheese post mojito? You do know the importance of melted cheese in absorbing rum, don't you? I want a mojito now.

Fran - the provenance of the dressing gown is uncertain (which probably means yes, it belonged to an old man from outside your supermarket). I very much doubt that keyword is intended for anyone here other than speedy sexeur the homosexual dachsund.

Helena - I promise. woodcraft folk promise. it sounds like something you would put on a boil. can you make me one for my baby spider nest?

Waffle said...

Mrs Jones - fuuuuuck. That sounds like the start of a Casualty storyline, doesn't it? Not to worry you or anything.

JPM said...

Put some clear fingernail polish on it. Oh yeah, and I enlarged it (sorry) but I have seen worse. Lovely plush turtle, plus I notice you have 10% off! :) Yea yea for arse biscuits!

Mrs Jones said...

Oh, I'm worried enough about it already so feel free to fret along with me. I've also got to entertain myself for the first 4 days because she'll be in the clinic so Nathan alone knows what I'm going to do with myself. The charms of the Terror Museum only last so long, you know.... (Expect full blogging reportage though). Actually, if anyone has any suggestions as to what I can do in Hungary in winter that doesn't involve goulash, I'd be grateful...

Waffle said...

Mrs Jones! You have to go to the thermal baths in the Hotel Gellert and get pummelled by women as disapproving as capybaras! Go on go on go on. My mum and prog rock did it. Prog rock was quite frightened.

JPM - That's a Happy Meal Toy, just to add to the general "eau de trailer trash" ambiance. What do I put clear nail varnish on? The leprous baby tarantulas? Or is it a more generic piece of advice?

Anonymous said...

You apply the nail varnish to the gaping chasm in your spine that's letting all these creatures in. Honestly, do I have to explain *everything*?

Is any of this english? I'm doing intensive language courses at the moment and nothing looks right.

Waffle said...

Which language? Your English seems fine. "Gaping chasm in your spine". Now please translate that into whatever language you are studying (oh, how I hope it's German).

Anonymous said...

*scrambling through dictionary*

das enorme Loch in Ihrer Wirbelsaule(imagine umlaut). Wild guesses here.

I'm not studying German, but lived there for quite a while as a child. I'm doing French and Polish at the moment. Strangely, I'm finding the Polish easier, which isn't to say that I'm actually any good at it. I'm not posting polish because I have a feeling you have a polish commenter and the shame would be toooo much. And your french is amazing so I'm not doing that either.
Now you're going to tell me you're half german.

Scott said...

I hope you don't turn into one of those people who shower until their skin turns red and bleeds.

The Spicers said...

I see we have the same household detritus, including those ubiquitous Kindertoy eggs and Boden catalogs that come at a rate of at least one a week.

TrulyScrumptious said...

BW, I hope your new home is filled with love, laughter and so much happiness.
And I've just applied for a stall at BUST (thanks to this post). Fancy doing some RUDE baking if I get a table top and two chairs for my vintage cake stands?

Anonymous said...

It looks like a perfectly normal desk to me - mine is just like it, but rather bigger. If you're quick, you can just slip off to the new house and leave all that behind, and start and new and exciting pile!

Recommend teatree oil on the spider bite/leprosy. At least it will smell healthy....


Mr London Street said...

Mrs Jones - Budapest is a truly unlovely place. Your best bet is to go to the beautiful Four Seasons hotel opposite the Chain Bridge and pull up some comfy seats in the bar. The cocktails are amazing. After a couple you can wander into Pava, the rather splendid Italian restaurant in the hotel. Alternatively after four cocktails the local cuisine might be almost palatable. I still have nightmares about a dinner I had in Budapest in a restaurant not remotely appropriately called 'Mensa'.

Also Statue Park sounds like a laugh, though I didn't get to go.

Anonymous said...

Don't buy the sofa bed from witch down the road - think Ektorp only. This is essential to your new life. I have two - a three seater one that even I can't touch the end when hoizontal (which is most of the time) and a two-seater which has a soooo comfy bed folded up inside. In fact my drawing room is an extension of my bedroom I think. Spiders appreciate Ektorp too. Dogs also.
Buy very very large 'fridge in order to fill will half finished pots and jars of stuff which eventually creep off by themselves when the mould takes on its own life.
Who actually wants to leave their house in the winter anyway?

Waffle said...

Fran - Hell no. I like that. Go on, say something in Polish for us. Say "capybara".

Scott - Ha, laughing. LAUGHING. Remember there's only dog shampoo to wash with in this house.

Iheart - Yes. Fuck OFF Johnny fucking Boden, I have no money.

Truly Scrumptious - I am waitingto see if M can get her shit together to make reflective bicycle kit stuff and share my table. We will scare everyone away and swig cocktail out of thermos flasks. Ooooh cake stands. I love cake stands.

Jenny - I am very glad to hear that.

Dragondays - you are of course quite right. It's Ektorp or nothing. I am definitely also thinking two Ektorps. I am about to contact your fence guy, by the way!

livesbythewoods said...

Why are the police taking so long to reply?

Where's the other amp lead for my Upstairs Guitars?

What time should I head off to Sussex tomorrow to maximise time with lovely Mum but avoid hellish motorway traffic?

What colour should I paint my toenails later today?

Oh, and if you need any spine spiders killing, give us a shout, we have a large selection of bizarre weaponry here. I am sure we have a spider spear.

Juci said...

Hey, no Budapest bashing, please! It is still the only city I can call home, even though it has changed a lot since we left three years ago. And it is not unlovely at all, even if I do say so myself.
Mrs Jones, the baths are indeed an excellent idea, Hungary is famous for its thermal waters. The 'House of Terror' is a historical museum that introduces you to the times of the Nazi and the Communist/Socialist regimes. The Museum of Fine Arts is putting on an exhibition on the Italian Renaissance that is supposed to be quite good (check here). Make sure you take a walk along the river (preferably on the Pest side), in the Castle District, on Margaret Island (Margitsziget) and on Andrássy út. For some of the best restaurants, Google Bock bisztró, Fausto's or Csalogany 26, or find more here.
I'm confident you'll love the place, anyway. :)

bevchen said...

Why does my knee still hurt even though it's been TWO WHOLE WEEKS since I fell over at the airport?
Why is my boyfriend apparantly the only person who's willing to spend any time with me? (He was at a stag do last night and is busy again today. He's promised to come over "this evening" (which, knowing him, will mean around 10pm). Until then I am all alone.)

My translation of the spinal column sentence: "die gähnende Luft in deiner Wirbelsäule". Fran's translation was good, I just wanted to have a go too ;-)

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