Pages

Tuesday 26 March 2013

My candid thoughts on...

blogging.

I live in my head... a lot!



I can relieve the pressure by getting out the thoughts 
that swirl around.

I go weak at the knees at such wacky wordsmiths
that inhabit blogland.

If I'm honest, and I always am,
I hate their skill; I just want to crawl under a stone
with my pathetic efforts.

'You're doing it for you Lin, remember?'

'Err... right!' (fib?)

I love using misspelt words and slightly wrong phrases that to me, are just plane
right.  My idol and first love of a girly-kind is
Hilary Mantel.
In the past I've always fallen for gay men... why... I dunno?

Well my 'mate' Hils always says
never explain, let the reader work it out, give them credit.
That's okay for her to say from her high intellectual plane,
however (just love that word) with Thick Os, folk might just
think poor lass, she can't help being dense, or worse,
wish she'd bugger off and give us super brains free reign.

In the past I've given hundreds of talks.
One snooty group of women complained to their head office,
that my stories were far-fetched and my language
was unpardonable...
Err.. I said Bloody five times
and it was a verbatim part of the story.
When the complaint got back to me I thought
I wonder what they would have thought if I'd given them the
real warts and all?
Their shock horror would have known no bounds!
They had been given the sanitised version.

Ted always says 
'Bet folks haven't got a clue where you're coming from!'
I sometimes wonder myself, why I get my knickers in
such a twist about things.
I hate it when folk don't say what they mean,
won't answer a direct question (politicians)
What is that all about?  I just don't get it.
If everyone told the truth, after the shock wore off, 
a level would be found, and we'd all get over it, and move on.

Although having said that, I do wish I had a third hand
concealed in a pocket, poised ready to clap over my mouth
when unbidden, words best left unsaid, issue forth out
of my rosebud north and south. With the skill of a moth catching hand,
pluck them out of the ether before they've formed, ramming them back down me throat before the unsuspecting recipient of this particular pearl of wisdom is any the wiser. 
Bit like a cow-catcher on the front of a train in the mid-West.



No cows were hurt in the making of that particular castigation.





6 comments:

  1. I too live in my mind a lot (so much easier to heat than the alternatives). This only presents a problem when my mind logs me out due to inactivity, and I can't remember my password ...

    If I may make so bold; bloody hell.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Keep it simple like... 'MIne's a large Egg Nog on the rocks' You'll never get logged out then...
      spaced out perhaps?

      LLX

      Delete
  2. I am not sure at all what that post was about! I found it absolutely hilarious, you and I are similar Linda, the words are out before the brain is into gear, and that is what I love so much about you. You just have to be yourself as you do, and we love you for it. You make my day! Why do you think I called my blog the ramblings of.... who me ramble - never!!! Worst case scenario I was invited for an interview by the Crafts Council and all the way on the train to Liverpool I made copious notes - Mr. T said be concise, stick to your bullet points. Well you know where this is going don't you..... Didn't get selected - wonder why!!!!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Oh Jayne, so many people say that to me, perhaps that's why I get so few comments. Friends say we just don't know how to reply... the story of my life I suppose... with Boudicca blades I've cut a swath through folk. Blood trailing in my wake.

      Made me smile about your Crafts Council skirmish. Mr. T. knows you so well and loves you for it I'm sure. Stay as sweet as you are lassie.

      LLX

      Delete
  3. I'm with you on falling for gay men - oh, the disappointments I have suffered!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Nilly in my experience from way back on 'Where to Go in London' where I was the editorial assistant... Yes you heard right... me? The editor was gay and such a droll wit. Ever since, all the gay men I've loved, have had the same sharp wit and wonderful skewered take on life. The organ that most attracts is the brain; especially the scrambled egg bit that is humour. Unrequited love at its very best.

      LLX

      P.S. The exception is Mr. OW, who I suspect is straight, still love him though!

      P.P.S. Just wish I wasn't such a hussy... I'm anybodies for a quick one-liner.

      Delete