A near-veteran of this blogging business, having lasted a full 3 months on here without succumbing to the temptations of the “Delete Blog” icon, I have come to appreciate the buzz generated by posting across the globe various finely crafted episodes of literary delusion, even if my suspicions are true, and nobody reads them. A seemingly mundane activity such as walking to the local Doctors’ surgery to procure a fresh supply of Prozac can be made so much more exciting by glancing up at the passing bedroom windows, and imagining within some former swimwear model delighting over the subtle humorous textures of a latest entry onto your own personal creation.
Airing one’s literary linen upon the worldwide washing line can have its pitfalls though; even I am not sufficiently naive to believe that every bedroom window conceals some figure of fantasy frantically e-mailing their vital statistics to their new creative soul mate. Most of us dare not think what dribbling types might populate the lower reaches of our worldwide audience, let alone what they get up to at weekends. But perhaps our greatest threat comes from a race closer to our own...
Blogger-types are a strange breed indeed. We all network like a sex-crazed X-Factor studio audience in the blind hope that more people will come across our efforts and therefore hail us as the best thing since Vanessa Feltz. We stay up all night when an idea surfaces, eschewing food, drink and oxygen lest we lose our thread and the dreaded “Block” strikes.
The Block.
People with The Block stand out a mile from the rest of society. We see them shuffling round Tesco at 11.30 at night muttering to themselves; pallid, irritable, craving some flash of inspiration. One might therefore say it was plausible for desperate times such as these to push some sleep-deprived bloggers to “bend” the accepted rules of this most accessible of art forms in search of... an idea...
With these thoughts in mind, whilst slumped in a soothingly accommodating armchair of a favourite local eatery following an unintentionally lung-busting stroll on the beach, I recently dreamt up the following correspondence between a pair of enthusiastic blogger-types. A combination of the fresh sea air, a young waitress with hypnotic eyebrows, and a pastry the size of a frisbee might have led to my getting somewhat carried away...
1 Comment
Hey Brad!
Have just read your latest post, “10 Things Not to Say in Front of your Girlfriend...” ROTFL!!!! This was brilliant! Great writing – I love your style and those observations you make that are soooo true...Particularly liked number 3, “Hey babe, I think I left my toenail clippings in the bed...” That made me chuckle! I had a girlfriend once who used to shave her legs whilst driving the car. Drove me crazy, little hairs everywhere. LOL :-D Keep up the good work – I’ve been reading your posts for a while and am now officially following your blog! How about having a look at mine? I think we share the same sense of humour, maybe you’ll like it?!
Joolz T ;)
1 Comment
Hi Joolz T!
Thanks for the comment! Glad you liked it – good to have another follower... Will take a look at your blog ASAP...!
1 Comment
Hi Joolz T,
Have just been reading your blog... It is indeed very funny and right up my street humour-wise - Well written dude... You are right, we do share the same sense of humour. The only thing is, when I read your post from January 10th entitled “When Hell Freezes Over,” I was reminded of a post of my own from the end of last year called “Pigs Might Fly.” I am wondering whether this similarity is just a coincidence...?
Brad.
1 Comment
Hey Brad!
Great that you had a look at the blog... Hey! You liked it! So good to meet up with like-minded hacks. Am a bit confused how you ended your comment... It sounds like you’re suggesting you may have copied my idea for your own post, but surely this is impossible, as you wrote yours first...? Or is it, as you say, a coincidence?
Joolz T ;)
1 Comment
Hi Joolz T,
No, no, NO. What I am suggesting is that you may have read my post, which I wrote before you wrote your post, and unintentionally copied the idea to use for your own post. The theme is identical, the style is identical – basically, the only difference is the title, and even that’s practically the same. Perhaps it is no coincidence after all, but these things happen don’t they? If you could just remove the post in question and delete the piece from your hard drive, then I’m sure we can carry on as before.
Cheers,
Brad.
1 Comment
Hey Brad!
Oh, I see! You think I used your idea for my blog post? Right! I can understand how you’ve reached your rather erroneous conclusion... Don’t worry tho, I never read your post - what was it called, “Flying Pigs?” – It seems it really is just a coincidence. And coincidences are things that do happen, Brad. So, how about you just keep your post, and I’ll keep mine, and just in case I accidentally delete it from my hard drive, I think I’ll go and run off another copy onto disc. One can never be too careful about these things...
Joolz T :-D
1 Comment
My Dear Joolz,
For the sake of clarity, let us get this straight. You openly admit (or should I use the word confess) to having been following my blog for, as you put it, “a while.” Fact. A matter of weeks after I compose a post entitled “Pigs Might Fly” (not “Flying Pigs” – get it right), an almost identical post appears on your blog, entitled “When Hell Freezes Over.” Fact. And you’re telling me that you didn’t read my post before cobbling together your own pale imitation...? I can only presume that you are joking – it seems you were right about us sharing the same sense of humour, but very wrong to think you can share my posts. I shall ignore the niggling voice at the back of my head that, having read between the last few lines of your previous comment, is telling me that you are deadly serious. I am only thankful that my medication is still effectively keeping the homicidal mood-swings at bay, for the time being, at least.
In anticipation of a sensible reply,
Brad. x
1 Comment
Hey Bad Brad!
Sorry about the late reply, got a bit carried away running off those copies of my post and ended up sending it to Bloomsbury Press to a friend who owes me a favour...Those voices that come from the back of our heads can be very annoying, can’t they? But, as I’m sure you will know, they’re usually right. Yours is, Brad. Yes, I am deadly serious. Ok, ok... you want the truth...? Confession time... When I said I’d been reading your blog for a while, I might have been exaggerating a teeny bit... well, quite a lot, in fact. The truth is, I haven’t read any of your attempts at blog posts, not one. I nearly did once, but at the last moment the cat hopped on the litter tray and I somehow lost my concentration. If you must know, I came across your blog by mistake the other day while I was perusing the singles ads – it flashed up over in the corner amongst the “Mature male seeks Thai lover” section – How it got there, God only knows... How much do you pay for that, by the way...? Getting back to the point, as I can already see a reply from Bloomsbury waiting invitingly in my inbox, don’t flatter yourself, Big Bad Brad... I don’t copy ideas, and if I did, I’d aim my sights a little higher standard-wise than page 2 from “Blogging for Dummies.”
Ciao,
Joolz.
(Ps. I’m so glad your unfortunate condition is being helped by the medication. Perhaps if you stepped up the dose a little, it might take care of those voices inside your head...?)
1 Comment
Listen to this, Pipsqueak...
If those voices we hear in our heads are, as you say, usually right, I may have to prematurely terminate our delightful correspondence to allow me time to firstly visit one of those websites that gives out peoples’ addresses, before heading off down to the local hardware store to invest in a large chainsaw and several heavy-duty bin bags. If I can resist this sumptuous temptation for long enough however, perhaps I can dignify your previous comment with a worthy response. First of all, I wish you luck in your online search for love. How my blog ad popped up amongst the dirty old men ads is a mystery to me, I must say. Perhaps, as you salivated over the young, free and single hermaphrodite section, you hallucinated the whole thing – we already know you have a rather fertile imagination. To help in your quest, I can personally recommend getting out to the local pub. That way, you won’t become associated with all those greasy-haired anoraks with the dirty fingernails that you see booking flights to Kuala Lumpur in Thomas Cook. Secondly, as we are now being brutally honest with each other, I must also confess that, apart from the post that you have blatantly plagiarised from my own copyrighted work, I have not been able to find sufficient nanoseconds amidst my busy schedule to register the existence of your so-called blog. The only way I can be sure that it exists in any place other than the infinite vacuum that occupies the space between your ears is by the brief glimpse I caught of the more incriminating parts just as I was sealing the envelope addressed to the crackerjack legal firm of Waxman, Smith and Portnoy. On a final note, as I have more important things to do than converse with the sub-mental cyber class (like cleaning the toilet for example), I know that even you understand the rules of copyright when it comes to publishing. This leads me to believe that your acquaintance down at Bloomsbury is yet another figment of your addled imagination – or just a sick joke... In fact, I have decided your sense of humour ranks alongside the monologues of Hitler in terms of hilarity, so, please, knock off pulling my leg Jules, you’re not funny. Oh, and just before I go, I think you’ll find the style of prose utilised throughout my blog posts is what the educated amongst my followers might describe as “erudite.” Look it up, Jules. And whilst thumbing through your junior dictionary, also look up the word “ignoramus,” see if it reminds you of anyone.
Go play with some scissors,
Brad.
(Ps. Have just discovered that the hardware store has a sale on all lethal power tools... bonus!)
1 Comment
My dear Brad, or is it now “Leatherface?”
How silly this whole thing is becoming. I must admit, when I signed up to start blogging I wasn’t expecting to have to brush off the rantings of a raving maniac whilst sifting through my correspondence. But, I suppose that’s what we set ourselves up for when we decide to communicate with the entire planet’s population, and the gibbering mutants that frequent all those grubby bedrooms the world over. That reminds me, out of pure curiosity I managed to prise free a couple of those nanoseconds you seem unable to find in order to educate myself as to what an “erudite” blog looks like. Sadly though, yours kept popping up on the screen, so it seems that for now I’ll just have to rely on my trusty junior dictionary to understand the true meaning of the word. Having stopped for just long enough to register the general standard of prose on offer, it struck me that I would never again have to look up the word “asininity” if my usually expansive memory ever failed me. Another observation, Brad: Just to reassure myself that it’s not me who’s the ubiquitous dirty old man, I had a quick look over all those mug-shots you’ve got on there listed as your followers...Uuurrgh! Where did you find that lot?? I’m sure I recognised one of them from a programme I saw on TV once about a man who was sexually aroused by barnyard animals... the one wearing the dungarees, Brad. If he sends you any pictures, take my advice friend, and delete them pronto before Mrs Brad turns up to scoop up the dirty socks that litter the micro-habitat that is your bedroom carpet. Anyway, just to update you, my far-from imaginary friend down at Bloomsbury sends his love, along with a most flattering e-mail detailing his plans to include my blog post “When Hell Freezes Over” in a forthcoming anthology of erudite blog posts to be published by his very own department. Isn’t that a stroke of luck? Obviously, the handsome royalties I am due to earn are an entire side-issue here; I’m sure you are the same as me and are in this business purely for the intellectual workout and creative freedom rather than to simply fund that new catamaran I’ve had my eye on. Just scanning your previous comment, which for your information I have saved to a special folder on my desktop entitled “Sure-fire Incriminating Evidence,” I think I picked up on the rather ill-advised threat of legal action from some of your bald-headed buddies down at the Squash Club. I say “ill-advised” mainly due to the fact that I had taken the step of copyrighting the post in question long before you penned yours (originally in crayon, I presume), a practice I understand the importance of owing to my brain cell count outweighing that of your average dust mite. So, to summarise, don’t waste your time with the lawsuit Brad, I wrote it first. And finally, and I do mean finally, as I think that this should be the end of any correspondence between us, I really do think you should get a second opinion on the glaringly obvious psychotic condition that you’ve been struck down with. Voices in your head, a fondness for playing with garden machinery, and now, it seems, a roll-call of friends reminiscent of the cast from Southern Comfort... I can only offer my sympathy for your mental plight Brad, but heartily recommend a change in that medication... and I would definitely stay in on the night of the next full moon.
Goodbye, loser.
Your former-buddy, Joolz T ;)
(Ps. Am torn between the catamaran and that new Lamborghini coupé... Decisions, decisions...)
1 Comment
Keep an ear out for that doorbell, Klutz,
Well, well, well... Correct me if I’m wrong here, my former-buddy, but the activities of both catamaran sailing and sports car driving demand a certain cohesion between bodily parts to enable the participant to gain the full benefits from both pursuits – a cohesion that may be a tad tricky to attain if, for example, you existed in several different rubble sacks at the bottom of the Atlantic ocean. Apologies if I appear somewhat spiky, but being pushed way beyond the limits of my fragile patience by a snivelling little amoeba tends to bring out my more blood-thirsty side. I won’t go on for too long, as I have a train to catch and haven’t yet packed my disembowelling knives, but suffice it to say, soon-to-be-former Joolz, you have committed a slight boob in stealing my work and then going on to brag about it like the pre-pubescent putz that you are. Enjoy the world while you can, and may I suggest you have one last go at a passable blog post – I’ll even give you the title, just to get you started...”Well, Got to Go People, There’s a Madman Knocking at the Door...” Like it? I’m sure you can manage one last effort. Tell your pal with the cheque book down at Bloomsbury to look out for a small head-shaped parcel landing imminently in his in-tray, and also that if I ever manage to come up with anything vaguely erudite, I’ll keep him in mind. Got to go now, the next door neighbour gets home from work soon, and I don’t want him to see me leaving the house in my butcher’s apron.
Well, it’s been a pleasure talking with you Joolz, I might see you one day...
Thanks for the comment...
Brad xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
1 Comment
Hey Brad!
Well, what can I say? It’s been fun sharing some banter with you, buddy. I know I said my last message would be the end of our verbal duelling, but just thought I’d let you know that I had a eureka moment earlier today, just after reading your last comment, actually...I’ve decided to decline Mr Bloomsbury’s offer after all – I just don’t think I could live with myself knowing I’d sold out my artistic integrity to such a money-minded conglomerate. After all, Brad, we do it for love, not money. A funny thing happened too - the cat happened to jump up onto my laptop, and wouldn’t you know it, kitty went and permanently deleted my post, “When Hell Freezes Over” from the face of the earth! To think of all the time and effort I spent coming up with that post in the first place... The exciting news is, Brad, after re-reading through our quirky correspondence, I was at that moment seized by an earth-mover of an idea for a new blog post...I’ll give you a clue, because, after all, you half-gave me the idea yourself... 2 bloggers squabbling over who came up with an idea for a post first... What do you think...? Tell you what, whoever posts it onto their blog first, gets copyright... Fair???
Good luck, amigo, and adios!
(Ps. You won’t believe it, but just seen the next door neighbour leaving his house in a butcher’s apron...looked set for a long journey too...)
© Matthew Jenkins - February 2011
mattofjenko@yahoo.co.uk
