Saturday, November 25, 2006
Blogmare
Blogging can creep all over your life like a yeast infection. Only a couple of nights ago I was seized by a terrible dream in which I was on the run from people who were trying to harm me because of inaccuracies in my pork pie post. I was taking a detour through a park when chainsaw-voiced troubadour Tom Waits came bouncing up on a pogo stick.
‘The origin you gave for the term pork pie was wrong,’ he said, bouncing gently on the spot like Zebedee from The Magic Roundabout. ‘The man who fell into the grinding machine was a dwarf, a Person Of Restricted Growth. So the name is a corruption of PORG pie.’
And away he bounced, boing, boing.
Comments:
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You and your pork pies, I sleep soundly at night as all I write on my blog is accurate and true, and the correct term is midget, they have feelings too, well except the one that fell into the machine though he did have a lot of guts.
What's more disturbing---dreaming about pork pies or having Tom Waits boinging around in your dream?
I thought there had to be a dwarf involved. The most worrying aspect of your dream, however, is "taking a detour through a park". Any Freudian will tell you that that's a sure sign of latent paedophilia.
SafeT: for a moment there I thought you said monkey shit.
Mr Knudsen: everything I write on this blog is accurate and true, too, except for the made-up parts.
FMC: more like sushi with Alexander Litvinenko.
Sassy Sundry: at least he had his clothes on. I once had a dream in which the entire membership of Lynyrd Skynyrd was... no, perhaps another time.
Hungbunny: if that's the sort of advice you're getting, I'd demand my money back if I were you.
Dr Maroon: fish and trumpets to you, madam.
Mr Knudsen: everything I write on this blog is accurate and true, too, except for the made-up parts.
FMC: more like sushi with Alexander Litvinenko.
Sassy Sundry: at least he had his clothes on. I once had a dream in which the entire membership of Lynyrd Skynyrd was... no, perhaps another time.
Hungbunny: if that's the sort of advice you're getting, I'd demand my money back if I were you.
Dr Maroon: fish and trumpets to you, madam.
There are alleyways and dark parks in your mind that terrify me, Foots. They're of the sort that turn up in Prime Suspect and in clown slasher movies.
Oh, so it was you who jinxed me with the yeast infection, you bastard.
And I keep telling you, I'm not FMC or anyone else.
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And I keep telling you, I'm not FMC or anyone else.
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