As mentioned previously, Grannys.Myth.Peeler is doing a grand job of peeling away the myths and lies of this world, even though some people may doubt the truthfulness of his tales. I for one am completely convinced of the truth of these accounts, having experienced similar situations myself.
Allow me to draw your attention to his post Will Robots Ever Have a Sense of Humour? Well yes, I believe they already do, but for those of us on the receiving end of their “humour” it’s rarely, if ever, funny. Consider this true life account:
We bought our Sat Nav a couple of years ago now. I should have known from the start that there was “something not quite right” when the female voice started giving me directions after I had specifically selected the male voice. So obviously, being the strong and determined woman that she is, she wasn’t impressed with me referring to her as “the bimbo on the dashboard”. I meant it as a joke, but women can be so touchy.
The problems started one night when I was driving to an unfamiliar area in the next town. She suddenly started giving me vague directions like “bear left” instead of “exit left” when I was on a dual carriage way. I was unimpressed. After much shouting on my part, along the lines of “You stupid Bimbo, what the hell does ‘bear left’ mean?” she decided to retaliate by taking me round a whole housing estate before finally directing me to my destination. I’m sure this road looks familiar... I kept thinking to myself. It must have taken about an hour just to get to the next town.
Directing me home she took me on a completely different route along dark country lanes. I had no idea where I was and I was starting to doubt the reliability of this thing.
“Bear right” she said eventually.
“Bear right? There’s only one lane!” I shrieked.
“Bear right” she said again.
In the dark I suddenly noticed a turning to the right, sign posted with the name of my home town. I slammed my foot on the brake and screached to a halt just before the turning. What happened to ‘turn right’? Once again she was being deliberately vague, but my journey home only took about 10 minutes compared to the hour it took me to get there! She was obviously making a point – I was dependant on her; completely at her mercy; in no position to be insulting her at all.
“Stupid Bimbo” I muttered.
“Continue for 26 miles” she told me on another recent trip, and then seconds later “Continue for 3 miles”.
“Make your bloomin’ mind up” I complained.
Further along the road she said “In point 6 miles exit left”. Now, I don’t know about you but personally, not being a human odometer, I don’t know how far 0.6 miles is of the top of my head.
(Of course the mathematical part of my brain is now telling me that there are 3600 seconds in one hour, so if I was driving at 70 mph it would have taken me 51.428571 seconds to drive one mile, which means 0.6 miles would take me 30.857143 seconds. But it would have taken me more than 30.857143 seconds to work that out, by which time I would have missed my exit.)
“Exit left” she reminded me as we approached the slip road, and then
“At the roundabout take the fifth exit”.
“Umm, but that’s going back the way we came…” Maybe I took the wrong exit off the motorway? I thought to myself. Dutifully I rejoined the motorway. About 3 miles down the road (which I’m guessing may have taken me approximately 2 minutes and 34.28571 seconds) she said:
“In point 6 miles exit left” and then
“At the roundabout take the fifth exit”…back onto the motorway again!
I could be driving up and down the motorway all day at this rate, I thought. Predictably, 3 miles down the road she tried to get me to leave the motorway at the same exit again!
“No! I’m not doing it!” I shouted.
“Exit left”
“No!”
“Exit left”
“I’m not playing your silly games anymore! I’ll find my own way home!”
I’m not sure if I heard her huff with annoyance, but once we had passed the exit she reluctantly gave me the correct directions:
“Continue straight for 23 miles”
We had reached a “stale mate”.
I wonder if she considers us “even” now. One thing is for sure – I won’t be calling her a bimbo again.
Showing posts with label Blogs and other stupid writing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Blogs and other stupid writing. Show all posts
Thursday, November 01, 2007
Wednesday, October 03, 2007
World Domination – by Mice
Grannys.Myth.Peeler really is a myth peeler. He peels away the layers of falsehoods to reveal the truth to his readers. Many people may think of him as a paranoid, slightly delusional, conspiracy theorist – or a fruit cake in layman’s terms - but let me tell you, never has a man been so accurate in his explanations of the inexplicable.
Take his story The Giant Mouse That Saved the World for example. Ok, there was no giant mouse; he turned out to be a Ginger Tom, but the little guy (who was a mouse) had everything planned out and was ready to take on the whole world – until he got eaten by the Ginger Tom of course. What does this prove? Only that cats are bigger than mice, but who has the brains eh? Consider this true life account:
I was talking to my brother the other day, and he was telling me how he discovered that mice are taking over his garage. He said he noticed the first mouse when he reached up to get a bag of rabbit food from a shelf and the mouse fell out of a hole in the bag! Screaming like girl (as frightened men do) he ran to safety. “This is war” he decided, and promptly went out to buy a mouse trap.
He proceeded to tell me how he laid the trap, not with cheese (which is another myth) but with chocolate. He checked the next day, and sure enough, there was a dead mouse in his trap. Developing a lust for blood he set the trap again and could hardly wait until the next morning to see if he had caught another mouse. However, the mice had already wised up to this trick, and had removed the chocolate without getting caught.
“Oh, so you’re a wise guy eh? We’ll see about that!” he hissed, and this time he set the trap with sticky chocolate caramel. Sure enough, the next day he found another dead mouse. With an evil laugh he set the trap again and waited…
But nothing could have prepared him for what he found the next day, or more to the point, what he didn’t find. There was no sticky chocolate caramel… there was no dead mouse… but there was no mouse trap either.
Believing that the mouse must have ran away with his leg trapped in the mouse trap, he searched his entire garage, but found nothing. Slightly baffled, he took himself off to the shops to buy another trap.
Now if the missing trap didn’t unsettle him slightly, what he came back to completely filled him with horror. He went back into his garage to set another trap when he noticed, there in the middle of the garage floor… the missing mouse trap! The mice were playing games with him!
“They’re going to get me for killing their brothers!” he wailed, and ran inside his house and locked all the doors and windows.
Nervously he told me his tale over the telephone. While we were talking we heard a strange clicking noise, like when someone picks up the telephone extension.
“Was that you?” I asked.
“No, we don’t have an extension” he replied “wasn’t it you?” he asked.
“No, we don’t have an extension either…”
“It’s the mice! They’re taking over the world I tell you!”
Well, that will teach him to play with thebig little but brainy boys.
Don’t mess with mice. You have been warned!
Coming next: World Domination – by Sat Navs
Take his story The Giant Mouse That Saved the World for example. Ok, there was no giant mouse; he turned out to be a Ginger Tom, but the little guy (who was a mouse) had everything planned out and was ready to take on the whole world – until he got eaten by the Ginger Tom of course. What does this prove? Only that cats are bigger than mice, but who has the brains eh? Consider this true life account:
I was talking to my brother the other day, and he was telling me how he discovered that mice are taking over his garage. He said he noticed the first mouse when he reached up to get a bag of rabbit food from a shelf and the mouse fell out of a hole in the bag! Screaming like girl (as frightened men do) he ran to safety. “This is war” he decided, and promptly went out to buy a mouse trap.
He proceeded to tell me how he laid the trap, not with cheese (which is another myth) but with chocolate. He checked the next day, and sure enough, there was a dead mouse in his trap. Developing a lust for blood he set the trap again and could hardly wait until the next morning to see if he had caught another mouse. However, the mice had already wised up to this trick, and had removed the chocolate without getting caught.
“Oh, so you’re a wise guy eh? We’ll see about that!” he hissed, and this time he set the trap with sticky chocolate caramel. Sure enough, the next day he found another dead mouse. With an evil laugh he set the trap again and waited…
But nothing could have prepared him for what he found the next day, or more to the point, what he didn’t find. There was no sticky chocolate caramel… there was no dead mouse… but there was no mouse trap either.
Believing that the mouse must have ran away with his leg trapped in the mouse trap, he searched his entire garage, but found nothing. Slightly baffled, he took himself off to the shops to buy another trap.
Now if the missing trap didn’t unsettle him slightly, what he came back to completely filled him with horror. He went back into his garage to set another trap when he noticed, there in the middle of the garage floor… the missing mouse trap! The mice were playing games with him!
“They’re going to get me for killing their brothers!” he wailed, and ran inside his house and locked all the doors and windows.
Nervously he told me his tale over the telephone. While we were talking we heard a strange clicking noise, like when someone picks up the telephone extension.
“Was that you?” I asked.
“No, we don’t have an extension” he replied “wasn’t it you?” he asked.
“No, we don’t have an extension either…”
“It’s the mice! They’re taking over the world I tell you!”
Well, that will teach him to play with the
Don’t mess with mice. You have been warned!
Coming next: World Domination – by Sat Navs
Monday, October 01, 2007
Hello and Welcome
If you have come here via Inspector Gadgets post “Shut Up and Drive” and you are looking for something relating to Mental Health, then you might like to visit my other blog.
Thanks for visiting.
Thanks for visiting.
Friday, August 31, 2007
365 Not Out
My first blogging anniversary and my 100th post!
Well, here I am, one year on since I first started blogging. With 100 posts on this blog, 63 posts between the other 2 blogs, and a list as long as your arm of unfinished, unstarted, or otherwise unpublished blog posts still to come, obviously I have far too much to say for myself.
I sometimes wondered if I would make it this far. Sometimes blogging has been mentally exhausting; other times emotionally draining. At times I couldn’t help but wonder if this writing phase would last or if I would simply dry up and run out of things to say. But here I am.
Some of my blogging highlights from the past year include:
• Receiving my first comment
• Receiving my first link from another blog
• Receiving my first email regarding my blog
• Having specific posts highly esteemed and linked to by others
• Having an incredible artist agree to illustrate one of my blogs
Reading the blogs of others has also been rewarding – when I’ve managed to keep up! The Blogosphere is ever revolving and never rests for a second. Someone somewhere is always writing a post; the pace is exhausting. I have read posts that have made me howl with laughter, and posts that have made me cry. Mostly blogs serve to give you a fascinating insight into the world of others, whether it be about their work, their health, or their family life – blogs are the ultimate fly-on-the-wall documentaries.
I have to say that for various reasons blogging is a journey of self discovery too. When writing on a particular subject, you tend to examine your own feelings on the matter, whether you choose to reveal those feelings in your post or not. Undoubtedly, each blogger gives away a part of themselves with each post they write.
Hmm… I guess I should now write a list of goals for the following year – kind of like new blog year resolutions. Well, I daren’t tie myself down to anything, but I hope the next year will be more of a steady flow of posts and less spasmodic.
So now, on with the show!
Well, here I am, one year on since I first started blogging. With 100 posts on this blog, 63 posts between the other 2 blogs, and a list as long as your arm of unfinished, unstarted, or otherwise unpublished blog posts still to come, obviously I have far too much to say for myself.
I sometimes wondered if I would make it this far. Sometimes blogging has been mentally exhausting; other times emotionally draining. At times I couldn’t help but wonder if this writing phase would last or if I would simply dry up and run out of things to say. But here I am.
Some of my blogging highlights from the past year include:
• Receiving my first comment
• Receiving my first link from another blog
• Receiving my first email regarding my blog
• Having specific posts highly esteemed and linked to by others
• Having an incredible artist agree to illustrate one of my blogs
Reading the blogs of others has also been rewarding – when I’ve managed to keep up! The Blogosphere is ever revolving and never rests for a second. Someone somewhere is always writing a post; the pace is exhausting. I have read posts that have made me howl with laughter, and posts that have made me cry. Mostly blogs serve to give you a fascinating insight into the world of others, whether it be about their work, their health, or their family life – blogs are the ultimate fly-on-the-wall documentaries.
I have to say that for various reasons blogging is a journey of self discovery too. When writing on a particular subject, you tend to examine your own feelings on the matter, whether you choose to reveal those feelings in your post or not. Undoubtedly, each blogger gives away a part of themselves with each post they write.
Hmm… I guess I should now write a list of goals for the following year – kind of like new blog year resolutions. Well, I daren’t tie myself down to anything, but I hope the next year will be more of a steady flow of posts and less spasmodic.
So now, on with the show!
Saturday, June 30, 2007
Creative Writing
“What on earth goes on in that house next door?” I moaned to Mr Man one night.
“With all that banging around they could be hiding a body under the floor boards for all we know!” I joked. Then thoughtfully I added: “You know, I should write a story about that…” And in my teens I probably would have, but I just don’t seem to have the creative energy any more.
School will be breaking up soon for summer. It was about this time of year in my final year at junior school when I started writing a story about a little girl called Elizabeth, who lived in a haunted house. It was obviously meant as school work originally, but when the school term ended I took my unfinished story home with me and continued writing throughout the summer holiday. In September I started a new school with new teachers, and when I showed my story to my new English teacher he encouraged me to continue writing it, even allowing me to write it during class time instead of having to do the assignments given to the rest of the class. I don’t even remember what happened to that story now; one of the many pieces of creative writing that was lost many years ago.
Throughout senior school this same English teacher was always positive about my writing and I often received top marks for short stories or scripts that I had written, which is ironic considering the low grade I received in my English exams.* Part of the problem was probably the fact that, although I liked writing, I didn’t like reading. I felt that reading was the death of creativity for me; my head would be filled with someone else’s story, someone else’s imagination, and not my own. Besides, it was boring.
When I reached my fifth and final year in senior school history seemed to repeat itself and once again I started writing a story, a script this time, which wasn’t to be completed until after I had left school. A friend of mine who had stayed on in sixth form took the finished script into school one day, to show my ex English teacher. He returned it with a simple message: “Get it published”. Unfortunately I never did, and then one day when I was having one of my “moments” I threw it away.**
That was about 18 years ago now. I’ve asked myself many times why I don’t feel able to be as creative anymore.
Do the pressures of life just eat away at our imagination? Do we get too wrapped up in the “real world” to play “pretend” in our minds? Maybe my expectations are too high now, and I fear failure, which in turn stifles creativity? When I was younger I just enjoyed the experience of writing; who did I need to impress? Only my English teacher if I wanted good marks, but to be honest I didn’t care about school marks. I just wrote for me.
I need to get back to that; writing for me. There are several things in life that tell me I need to do it - often when I am reading or watching TV I feel “dissatisfied” with the outcome of the stories. In these circumstances one of several things will happen:
So you see, I need to write a story – for me. For the satisfaction. I can choose my characters; I can choose my ending. What better indulgence is there for someone as spoilt as I am?
*There were only two teachers who ever seemed to appreciate my writing; he was one of them, and the other was when I was schooled in Wales for a brief period.
**I’m not a hoarder and I have these moments when everything has to go in the bin, and then I spend the rest of my life regretting it. I wish now that I had kept a copy of everything I had ever written.
“With all that banging around they could be hiding a body under the floor boards for all we know!” I joked. Then thoughtfully I added: “You know, I should write a story about that…” And in my teens I probably would have, but I just don’t seem to have the creative energy any more.
School will be breaking up soon for summer. It was about this time of year in my final year at junior school when I started writing a story about a little girl called Elizabeth, who lived in a haunted house. It was obviously meant as school work originally, but when the school term ended I took my unfinished story home with me and continued writing throughout the summer holiday. In September I started a new school with new teachers, and when I showed my story to my new English teacher he encouraged me to continue writing it, even allowing me to write it during class time instead of having to do the assignments given to the rest of the class. I don’t even remember what happened to that story now; one of the many pieces of creative writing that was lost many years ago.
Throughout senior school this same English teacher was always positive about my writing and I often received top marks for short stories or scripts that I had written, which is ironic considering the low grade I received in my English exams.* Part of the problem was probably the fact that, although I liked writing, I didn’t like reading. I felt that reading was the death of creativity for me; my head would be filled with someone else’s story, someone else’s imagination, and not my own. Besides, it was boring.
When I reached my fifth and final year in senior school history seemed to repeat itself and once again I started writing a story, a script this time, which wasn’t to be completed until after I had left school. A friend of mine who had stayed on in sixth form took the finished script into school one day, to show my ex English teacher. He returned it with a simple message: “Get it published”. Unfortunately I never did, and then one day when I was having one of my “moments” I threw it away.**
That was about 18 years ago now. I’ve asked myself many times why I don’t feel able to be as creative anymore.
Do the pressures of life just eat away at our imagination? Do we get too wrapped up in the “real world” to play “pretend” in our minds? Maybe my expectations are too high now, and I fear failure, which in turn stifles creativity? When I was younger I just enjoyed the experience of writing; who did I need to impress? Only my English teacher if I wanted good marks, but to be honest I didn’t care about school marks. I just wrote for me.
I need to get back to that; writing for me. There are several things in life that tell me I need to do it - often when I am reading or watching TV I feel “dissatisfied” with the outcome of the stories. In these circumstances one of several things will happen:
- I’ll predict the ending, leading to the over used joke in our household where Mr Man asks: “How did you know that?” and I reply with “I wrote it”
- I’ll get frustrated with story lines not being developed properly and end up wishing I had written it.
- Or I’ll just get bored and stop reading or watching the thing altogether. (Or a combination of all three)
So you see, I need to write a story – for me. For the satisfaction. I can choose my characters; I can choose my ending. What better indulgence is there for someone as spoilt as I am?
*There were only two teachers who ever seemed to appreciate my writing; he was one of them, and the other was when I was schooled in Wales for a brief period.
**I’m not a hoarder and I have these moments when everything has to go in the bin, and then I spend the rest of my life regretting it. I wish now that I had kept a copy of everything I had ever written.
Monday, May 14, 2007
Just Read
Not meant as a command but as a kind of play on words as in the post I make reference to “Just Another Thought…”, “JustGiving” and “Just Smile…”
I’ve been meaning to do a blog roll and side bar update for what seems like forever. (Of course, if you’ve read my previous post you’ll realise that I haven’t actually written a blog post for millions of years now, but I have travelled back in time to update my blog, so to the average unenlightened reader it looks like it’s only been a few months since I last did a blog roll update, which is far from forever)
You’ll notice a couple of new blogs listed. One of them, “Just Another Thought…” is written by my dear friend Aiders. We actually lived opposite each other when we were 14-16 but then lost touch when we left school and both moved to other areas. Thirteen years later we got in touch with each other again through Friends Reunited and I’m glad to say have stayed in touch ever since. I didn’t know back then that she had such a great talent for writing, but her poems are beautiful. Thankfully she has chosen to share some of them with us in her blog.
You’ll also notice that there are two links to “JustGiving” supporting two different sponsored events. The first is for my friend Dawn Morley, who is running in the Race for Life this year to raise money for Cancer Research UK. This charity is the worlds leading independent organisation dedicated to cancer research, and with an estimated 1 in 3 suffering from cancer at some point in their life, I dare say many owe their lives to this valuable research. I know cancer has claimed at least 3 lives in my family, not to mention the friends lost, and the friends and family who have been successfully treated. Both Dawn and her teenage daughter will be running in memory of Dawns Dad who sadly died of cancer nearly two years ago. The race will be very challenging for Dawn as she has never done anything like this before, but obviously the charity is one that is close to her heart.
The second is for a team of LAS Paramedics who I don’t know from Adam. They’re climbing the three highest mountains in England, Scotland, and Wales in a 24 hour period - hell, it would be challenging enough without the time restriction. They are climbing to raise money for The Richard House Childrens Hospice, which provides support and care for children who are not expected to live into adulthood. Angela (the author of Just Smile…) has done some of her nurse training in this hospice, and she explains that it is a very valuable service that is suffering due to lack of funding. Previously Angela had told me about the services this home struggles to provide:
“[The] children's hospice… offered respite and end of life care. They had a lovely, recently built facility that offered residential and day care… The day care service was no longer offered because of funding... Most of this purpose built facility wasn't being used and during my placement they were making staff redundant…”
I sincerely wish Dawn and the Paramedic team every success in their upcoming challenges. Although Dawn has already exceeded her target amount, wouldn’t it be great if she could raise 150% (£225)? Or even 200% (£300)? I will gladly pass on any messages of support, but if you’re a blogger, please link to these two fundraising events on your blog. Thank you!
I’ve been meaning to do a blog roll and side bar update for what seems like forever. (Of course, if you’ve read my previous post you’ll realise that I haven’t actually written a blog post for millions of years now, but I have travelled back in time to update my blog, so to the average unenlightened reader it looks like it’s only been a few months since I last did a blog roll update, which is far from forever)
You’ll notice a couple of new blogs listed. One of them, “Just Another Thought…” is written by my dear friend Aiders. We actually lived opposite each other when we were 14-16 but then lost touch when we left school and both moved to other areas. Thirteen years later we got in touch with each other again through Friends Reunited and I’m glad to say have stayed in touch ever since. I didn’t know back then that she had such a great talent for writing, but her poems are beautiful. Thankfully she has chosen to share some of them with us in her blog.
You’ll also notice that there are two links to “JustGiving” supporting two different sponsored events. The first is for my friend Dawn Morley, who is running in the Race for Life this year to raise money for Cancer Research UK. This charity is the worlds leading independent organisation dedicated to cancer research, and with an estimated 1 in 3 suffering from cancer at some point in their life, I dare say many owe their lives to this valuable research. I know cancer has claimed at least 3 lives in my family, not to mention the friends lost, and the friends and family who have been successfully treated. Both Dawn and her teenage daughter will be running in memory of Dawns Dad who sadly died of cancer nearly two years ago. The race will be very challenging for Dawn as she has never done anything like this before, but obviously the charity is one that is close to her heart.
The second is for a team of LAS Paramedics who I don’t know from Adam. They’re climbing the three highest mountains in England, Scotland, and Wales in a 24 hour period - hell, it would be challenging enough without the time restriction. They are climbing to raise money for The Richard House Childrens Hospice, which provides support and care for children who are not expected to live into adulthood. Angela (the author of Just Smile…) has done some of her nurse training in this hospice, and she explains that it is a very valuable service that is suffering due to lack of funding. Previously Angela had told me about the services this home struggles to provide:
“[The] children's hospice… offered respite and end of life care. They had a lovely, recently built facility that offered residential and day care… The day care service was no longer offered because of funding... Most of this purpose built facility wasn't being used and during my placement they were making staff redundant…”
I sincerely wish Dawn and the Paramedic team every success in their upcoming challenges. Although Dawn has already exceeded her target amount, wouldn’t it be great if she could raise 150% (£225)? Or even 200% (£300)? I will gladly pass on any messages of support, but if you’re a blogger, please link to these two fundraising events on your blog. Thank you!
Tuesday, March 20, 2007
It's a Bum Rap
I was chatting with my brother on the phone tonight and he was complaining about how every piece of mail through his letter box just lately is to tell him that another bill has gone up. He’s tried to cut back where he can, and as he doesn’t use the internet much he decided to switch his ISP so that he could take advantage of the free service provided by his digital TV service provider. He jokingly said that he’ll also have to use the free newspaper instead of toilet paper soon to save money. Anyway, after deciding to announce that he needed to go to do a poo, he asked me to email him to make sure that his new email address was working properly, so I decided to compose a rap…
Yo, Bro
You said you had to go
But I’m still smilin’
Freestylin’
While you’re on the Poe
Now there’s somethin’ you should know
Don’t waste the
Newspaper, down the pan
‘Cos later
What you choose
To use
You’ll accuse
When your pan’s blocked
Don’t act shocked
It’s not like I didn’t warn you
Not tryin’ to scorn you
Never diss you
I still miss you
I’m just saying
You’ll be paying
For a plumber
It’s a bummer
So use Andrex ok?
Yo, Bro
You said you had to go
But I’m still smilin’
Freestylin’
While you’re on the Poe
Now there’s somethin’ you should know
Don’t waste the
Newspaper, down the pan
‘Cos later
What you choose
To use
You’ll accuse
When your pan’s blocked
Don’t act shocked
It’s not like I didn’t warn you
Not tryin’ to scorn you
Never diss you
I still miss you
I’m just saying
You’ll be paying
For a plumber
It’s a bummer
So use Andrex ok?
Friday, March 16, 2007
Red Nose Day
It’s done. He did it. Mike (and others) completed the mammoth task of compiling a book in just seven days. Shaggy Blog Stories.
But this isn’t just any old book. Oh no no! This book contains entries from 100 authors (more than even the Bible with a mere 40), and all British Bloggers at that, all with the sole intention of bringing a smile to your fair face and raising money for Comic Relief at the same time.
So what are you waiting for? Oh, where to buy it? Of course, silly old me…
www.shaggyblogstories.co.uk
But this isn’t just any old book. Oh no no! This book contains entries from 100 authors (more than even the Bible with a mere 40), and all British Bloggers at that, all with the sole intention of bringing a smile to your fair face and raising money for Comic Relief at the same time.
So what are you waiting for? Oh, where to buy it? Of course, silly old me…
www.shaggyblogstories.co.uk
Friday, March 09, 2007
Shaggy Blog Stories
Attention all bloggers!
Today I have stumbled across this brilliant idea.Basically, all bloggers are being asked to submit just one blog post, preferably their funniest, to be included in a book entitled “Shaggy Blog Stories” which will go on sale next Friday, 16th March. As you may, or may not know, this date is Red Nose Day, and all money raised (minus publishing fees) will be donated to Comic Relief.
Time is ticking away! This book is being compiled in just 7 days, with the closing time/date being 6pm GMT Wednesday 14th March. (Surely this has to be a record for the largest amount of contributors for one book, and being compiled in the shortest amount of time?)
Everyone is being encouraged to publicise this event on their own blogs, contribute to the book themselves, buy the book next Friday, and advertise the book once it goes on sale.
I’m not sure if I’ve really ever written anything that funny myself, but I hope to read some of my favourite posts by other bloggers.
So get blogging!
You can read more about this event here: troubled-diva.com
Friday, February 09, 2007
Is there no end to the stupidity in this world?
Just when I think I have heard or read the most stupid thing I am ever going to hear or read in my entire life, ever, I come across something else that is even more stupid than the last stupid thing I heard or read.
I suppose the subject of this post on Mental Nurse is something I would usually write about in my other blog, and I have, but then people’s stupidity is usually something I blog about here.
Is there no end to people’s stupidity?
But maybe it works. What do I know? I’m only the wife of a Schizophrenic.
I suppose the subject of this post on Mental Nurse is something I would usually write about in my other blog, and I have, but then people’s stupidity is usually something I blog about here.
Is there no end to people’s stupidity?
But maybe it works. What do I know? I’m only the wife of a Schizophrenic.
Wednesday, February 07, 2007
Extra Extra! Read All About It!
I thought it was about time I updated my list of links in the side bar as I’ve been reading some very funny and interesting blogs of late, and as I’ve had another sleepless night I thought I’d give you a little explanation of each blog while I decide whether to go back to bed or whether to try to force myself to stay up until I’m so tired that I feel like death and I have to give in and go back to bed and then I would have slept too late in the day to be able to sleep tonight and I’ll be kicking myself and wishing that I went to bed this morning instead of trying to force myself to stay up even though it’s not really my fault because I didn’t know what to do because if I went to bed this morning I didn’t know whether I would actually be able to sleep or not. In the mean time maybe someone could Google “the longest sentence in the world recorded in the Guinness book of records” for me.
I’ve never really had a very high opinion of NHS Direct. I called one time for some medication advice and the woman on the phone wanted to send an ambulance for Mr Mans indigestion. I’ve never bothered phoning them again, but if I knew I would have this clever lady answering the phone then maybe I would. There is always two sides to every story, and for every stupid person you think works at NHS reDirect you can guarantee that this lady will answer the phone to at least 50 stupid people ringing them. It’s a very stressful job too, sometimes being the first person that a caller will speak to after experiencing traumatic events. Read the list of 25 random calls listed here and see for yourself.
I’ve been reading a couple of blogs written by Special Constables of late. Hobby Bobby has some very funny stories to tell, and SirBusy is a teacher in his “day job” so he even knows how to spell and like use proper grammar? And all stuff like that innit? I was like well impressed.
Another blog I’ve been reading is written by a copper who calls himself Grannys.Myth.Peeler, but he doesn’t write about his work. He has a very vivid imagination shall we say, and if you don't mind some swearing I guarantee you’ll be crying with laughter. His characters (real or imagined, I have no idea) really come to life. Men of Steel has got to be one of the best.
Has anyone ever come across any British FireFighter blogs?
I’ve never really had a very high opinion of NHS Direct. I called one time for some medication advice and the woman on the phone wanted to send an ambulance for Mr Mans indigestion. I’ve never bothered phoning them again, but if I knew I would have this clever lady answering the phone then maybe I would. There is always two sides to every story, and for every stupid person you think works at NHS reDirect you can guarantee that this lady will answer the phone to at least 50 stupid people ringing them. It’s a very stressful job too, sometimes being the first person that a caller will speak to after experiencing traumatic events. Read the list of 25 random calls listed here and see for yourself.
I’ve been reading a couple of blogs written by Special Constables of late. Hobby Bobby has some very funny stories to tell, and SirBusy is a teacher in his “day job” so he even knows how to spell and like use proper grammar? And all stuff like that innit? I was like well impressed.
Another blog I’ve been reading is written by a copper who calls himself Grannys.Myth.Peeler, but he doesn’t write about his work. He has a very vivid imagination shall we say, and if you don't mind some swearing I guarantee you’ll be crying with laughter. His characters (real or imagined, I have no idea) really come to life. Men of Steel has got to be one of the best.
Has anyone ever come across any British FireFighter blogs?
Friday, December 01, 2006
Soap Box
From olden times when a speaker would literally stand on a soap box to gain height, before making an impromptu speech, often about politics. Used metaphorically to describe a person airing their strong views unofficially and often uninvited, as in: “He’s on his soapbox again”
I was really annoyed last night after reading this post where Angela, a student paediatric nurse, tells us that in her essays her own opinion is viewed as worthless unless she can backup what she says with references to other peoples work.
As I said in the comments section of that post, since when can a student or “ordinary” person not come up with a groundbreaking idea of their own? And I list just three examples:
- John Nash – who was a student when he came up with his equilibrium theory, which won him the Nobel Prize in economics 44 years later.
- Patch Adams - who was a student when he envisioned a free hospital which treated patients with love and laughter. He realised this dream for 12 years until the hospital was forced to close due to lack of funding, but he now takes his unique form of medicine around the world to orphans and refugees.
- Augusto Odone - who had no previous medical background and yet educated himself on his sons condition, Adrenoleukodystrophy (ALD), and came up with a pioneering preventative treatment for the disease.
Clearly people don’t have to be highly educated professors who have spent their whole lives studying one particular area, before making a groundbreaking discovery of some kind. All scientific discoveries have to be based on a theory first, which by its very nature is unproven and has no “evidence based practice” to refer to.
I couldn't understand why the views of Angela’s markers had annoyed me so much, but as Mr Man put it "It stifles creative thinking". People should be allowed to develop and become more than what they are in various ways. Intelligence cannot be measured by how much of someone else’s work a person can quote, but by how much they can reason and discover themselves.
Mr Mans Wife steps down from her soap box.
Saturday, November 11, 2006
Pains in the Published
As you can see from the title, this blog entry was inspired by “Pains in Public” by Andrew Holmes. With every page I read I kept thinking “I should write something like this about authors”. I know this may seem like an obvious statement to make, but I don't like reading unless it's enjoyable. Actually I've spent most of my life thinking that I simply don't like reading, when in fact it's just taken me most of my life to find something worth the effort. This post doesn’t just cover the written word that has been published though; it covers any written word which has to be read and really puts people off reading altogether. This can be anything from emails to … well, blogs. It is not my intention to insult or offend anyone; this is just a collection of what I personally find to be pains in the written word. You may or may not agree.
I’ve swallowed a dictionary (and it’s stuck in my throat)
Who can be bothered to read a book when you have to re-read every sentence after looking up the words in a dictionary? This is annoying because it has more to do with appearing intellectual than sharing a talent to bring enjoyment to others. Those who write poetry can sometimes be like this. For them writing is an intellectual exercise designed to impress, rather than an expression of thought or emotion. A classic example is a poem I read about depression. The author shall remain anonymous, and I just hope she never reads this blog – other wise I could be adding hate mail to my list of pains in the written word. The poem was very dramatic as it described the bony hand of death pushing the author into the abyss of despair, and the “racking spasms which chafe and gnaw”. P-lease. When I was depressed the only spasms I had were caused by my irritable bowel syndrome. Is it me, or is that kind of poetry really boring? (Except the bit about falling “down, down, down” into the pit, “down though the abysmal hollows of sufferance”, which considering the poem was about the very serious subject of depression, had me crying with laughter) Although the piece was very “poetic”, it was obvious that the writer didn’t have a clue what she was writing about. Well, as I’ve probably said many times before, I’m not a writer of any kind, but here is my effort about depression, full of feeling and meaning…
Man, I feel like crap.
The End
Let’s go all around the houses… (Or “Would you accompany me on this vast literary journey, which takes us through several English country sides, so that we can admire the beauty of nature on our way to our destination?)
These ones are closely related to the “I’ve swallowed a dictionary” type, because they also use ridiculous words that your average Joe Public wouldn’t use in every day speech, but also it takes them forever to say it. So, instead of saying something like: “Although it was a sunny day, it was cold and damp enough to take your breath away”, they might say: “As the sunlight seeped in though the opening of the curtains, its brilliance reflected off each tiny particle of dust hovering in the air, illuminating them like fragments of faceted diamonds. A hazy mist could be seen over the dew covered fields, and a cold dampness peculiar to that time of year filled the air and asphyxiated all who inhaled the unwelcoming atmosphere.”
For these ones, the content itself is not really important, but how the content is written. Indeed the story could be total cack, as long as it’s written beautifully. I once started reading a book and never got past the first page, because that whole first page was spent describing the scenery and the weather, and I started to wonder if there were any characters in the story at all, or if the whole book was going to be a very fancy weather forecast. Can you imagine that? “For those who live beyond the hills and valleys of Yorkshire, currently shrouded in a blanket of freshly fallen snow, which glistens in the moonlight and lays undisturbed like the skin of a gently perspiring virginal young maiden in deep slumber; you may experience the wrath of the skies, with lightening like flashes of anger, lashing against the darkness like a horse whip, and forcing the rain to gallop ever faster to the saturated ground…” By the time the weatherman had finished giving the weather forecast, we’d be in a different season.
The kewl ones
Of course, at the other end of the scale are those who wish to appear clever in quite a different way. Evryfin they rite has 2 b re-spelt as if th Inglish langwij woznt gud enuf. I can understand that in writing text messages words may have to be shortened to save having to send 50 texts at a time, but why do these people continue writing this way in every other area of life? Message boards, emails – they all become a nightmare to read. You know, I had heard that this kind of spelling was even finding its way into school work. But the re-spelling which seems totally pointless to me is when the words are exactly the same length, just spelt wrongly, like “kewl” instead of “cool” or “woz” instead of “was”. It doesn’t seem very efficient to me, it just means you have to learn two languages instead of one.
Abbr.
Abbreviations really annoy me. The only thing worse than reading an abbr. is hearing one being spoken, such as “ASAP” or “TTFN”. My Maths teacher (yes, I realise that "Maths" is an abbr.) always used to say "thou" instead of "thousand" and it was so irritating. I realise that sometimes abbreviations are necessary, again such as in writing text messages as one example, but in most areas they are completely unnecessary and rather than showing efficiency just show pure laziness in the use of the English language. One news article I read recently spoke of an “Ass Ch Con” – a what? It’s only through reading Police Blogs that I could hazard a guess that this was supposed to be an “Assistant Chief Constable”, but you can’t presume that Jo Public is going to know that. In fact, I did a search for “Ass Ch Con” on several websites for "Abbreviations and Acronyms", including Police websites which have an abbreviations page. They all came up with nothing. The abbreviation doesn’t appear to exist, except perhaps in a journalists note pad somewhere.
The writers who swear all the [bleep] time
I can’t tell you how much this [bleep]s me off. It’s so [bleep] irritating and [bleep] unnecessary. They’ll try to tell you that it helps them to get their point across, or that context calls for it in a scene where emotions run high – [bleeeeeeeep]! It’s more to do with their limited vocabulary and trying to give the impression that they’re:
I’ve swallowed a dictionary (and it’s stuck in my throat)
Who can be bothered to read a book when you have to re-read every sentence after looking up the words in a dictionary? This is annoying because it has more to do with appearing intellectual than sharing a talent to bring enjoyment to others. Those who write poetry can sometimes be like this. For them writing is an intellectual exercise designed to impress, rather than an expression of thought or emotion. A classic example is a poem I read about depression. The author shall remain anonymous, and I just hope she never reads this blog – other wise I could be adding hate mail to my list of pains in the written word. The poem was very dramatic as it described the bony hand of death pushing the author into the abyss of despair, and the “racking spasms which chafe and gnaw”. P-lease. When I was depressed the only spasms I had were caused by my irritable bowel syndrome. Is it me, or is that kind of poetry really boring? (Except the bit about falling “down, down, down” into the pit, “down though the abysmal hollows of sufferance”, which considering the poem was about the very serious subject of depression, had me crying with laughter) Although the piece was very “poetic”, it was obvious that the writer didn’t have a clue what she was writing about. Well, as I’ve probably said many times before, I’m not a writer of any kind, but here is my effort about depression, full of feeling and meaning…
Man, I feel like crap.
The End
Let’s go all around the houses… (Or “Would you accompany me on this vast literary journey, which takes us through several English country sides, so that we can admire the beauty of nature on our way to our destination?)
These ones are closely related to the “I’ve swallowed a dictionary” type, because they also use ridiculous words that your average Joe Public wouldn’t use in every day speech, but also it takes them forever to say it. So, instead of saying something like: “Although it was a sunny day, it was cold and damp enough to take your breath away”, they might say: “As the sunlight seeped in though the opening of the curtains, its brilliance reflected off each tiny particle of dust hovering in the air, illuminating them like fragments of faceted diamonds. A hazy mist could be seen over the dew covered fields, and a cold dampness peculiar to that time of year filled the air and asphyxiated all who inhaled the unwelcoming atmosphere.”
For these ones, the content itself is not really important, but how the content is written. Indeed the story could be total cack, as long as it’s written beautifully. I once started reading a book and never got past the first page, because that whole first page was spent describing the scenery and the weather, and I started to wonder if there were any characters in the story at all, or if the whole book was going to be a very fancy weather forecast. Can you imagine that? “For those who live beyond the hills and valleys of Yorkshire, currently shrouded in a blanket of freshly fallen snow, which glistens in the moonlight and lays undisturbed like the skin of a gently perspiring virginal young maiden in deep slumber; you may experience the wrath of the skies, with lightening like flashes of anger, lashing against the darkness like a horse whip, and forcing the rain to gallop ever faster to the saturated ground…” By the time the weatherman had finished giving the weather forecast, we’d be in a different season.
The kewl ones
Of course, at the other end of the scale are those who wish to appear clever in quite a different way. Evryfin they rite has 2 b re-spelt as if th Inglish langwij woznt gud enuf. I can understand that in writing text messages words may have to be shortened to save having to send 50 texts at a time, but why do these people continue writing this way in every other area of life? Message boards, emails – they all become a nightmare to read. You know, I had heard that this kind of spelling was even finding its way into school work. But the re-spelling which seems totally pointless to me is when the words are exactly the same length, just spelt wrongly, like “kewl” instead of “cool” or “woz” instead of “was”. It doesn’t seem very efficient to me, it just means you have to learn two languages instead of one.
Abbr.
Abbreviations really annoy me. The only thing worse than reading an abbr. is hearing one being spoken, such as “ASAP” or “TTFN”. My Maths teacher (yes, I realise that "Maths" is an abbr.) always used to say "thou" instead of "thousand" and it was so irritating. I realise that sometimes abbreviations are necessary, again such as in writing text messages as one example, but in most areas they are completely unnecessary and rather than showing efficiency just show pure laziness in the use of the English language. One news article I read recently spoke of an “Ass Ch Con” – a what? It’s only through reading Police Blogs that I could hazard a guess that this was supposed to be an “Assistant Chief Constable”, but you can’t presume that Jo Public is going to know that. In fact, I did a search for “Ass Ch Con” on several websites for "Abbreviations and Acronyms", including Police websites which have an abbreviations page. They all came up with nothing. The abbreviation doesn’t appear to exist, except perhaps in a journalists note pad somewhere.
The writers who swear all the [bleep] time
I can’t tell you how much this [bleep]s me off. It’s so [bleep] irritating and [bleep] unnecessary. They’ll try to tell you that it helps them to get their point across, or that context calls for it in a scene where emotions run high – [bleeeeeeeep]! It’s more to do with their limited vocabulary and trying to give the impression that they’re:
- Individual – as in the case of teenagers trying to gain the respect of their peers and show the older generation that they won’t be confined by their rules
- “With it” – as in the case of people who want to show that they’re “in touch” with “life on the street” and they know “what’s going down”
- Still “with it” – as in the case of middle aged people trying to gain the respect of the younger generation
- “No nonsense” kind of people – as in the case with people who are insecure and unsure of themselves but want to give the impression that they’re confident and not afraid of anyone
- Funny – as in the case where a sweet old lady will blurt out an obscenity in a comedy sketch, to shock people into laughter. This sometimes works, but very rarely. This kind of attempt at humour is often overused or overdone.
Just to illustrate the point about having a limited vocabulary: recently a friend of mine was trying to explain to me how something had “gone wrong”. Due to children being nearby she leant over and quietly asked “What’s another way of saying f***ed up?” to which I replied “messed up?”
They are the five main styles or areas of writing that really annoy me, however there is another area of the written word that really annoys me, and that is misteaks or things that just are wrote bad. Now, don’t get me wrong, I know we are all imperfect, and I make enough written mistakes of my own, but surely something as important as news websites should be read by proof readers before being uploaded onto the net? Recently I came across an article on a news website about a popular comedy being shown at cinemas, which said in part: “The film has described as a "mockumentary" which follows Mr Cohen's travel across the US.” This obviously should have read “The film has been described…” or “The film is described…” not “The film has described…” That is just one example of regular findings of poor grammar on this particular news site, as well as numerous spelling errors.
There are other written things that I can’t/won’t read because they bore me to death (and I’m really not ready to die yet), such as “small print” or legal documents – very important but very boring; and instructions – again, very important but very boring, so thankfully I have Mr Man to speed read these things for me and then explain the gist of the content.
Thank goodness for the recent craze of Blogging. It has enabled me to find some reading material actually worth reading, and some of that has come from the most unexpected places – people who I actually know that have an amazing talent which I knew nothing about. I know some people may be bored by the endless amounts of Blogs available for reading, or maybe they feel it’s becoming a bit “old hat” or that every Tom, Dick or Harry is jumping on the “bandwagon”, but I feel that Blogging is something to be encouraged. It’s about time that we had a “fashionable” way of encouraging the art of writing, especially for the younger generation. Everyone wants to receive the compliment that their Blog is “well written”, or to have other “important” or “well educated” people show their admiration by linking to their Blog, and so I think this encourages people to try to improve their writing skills and think more about their style of writing. Surely, this has got to be a good thing.
Friday, November 03, 2006
The Hitchhikers Guide to the Blogosphere
Have you ever tried clicking that little button in the top right hand corner entitled “next blog”? I sat here clicking it the other night, and this is what I found, in descending order from the most numerous:
Most of the Blogs were foreign and I couldn’t understand a word.
Another high percentage were actually advertising products or services. I suppose signing up for a Blog is an ideal way of getting free web space with all of the site design completed for you – you just have to type your text and upload an image of what you are selling.
Lots of people use Blogs to keep family and friends updated on their travelling adventures if they decide to take a trip oversees. These include lots of photographs. They're like a cyber postcard which has numerous advantages: 1. It "arrives" much quicker, 2. It only has to be "posted" once for everybody, rather than writing and posting serveral cards to different people in the persons address book, 3. The cyber postcard can be updated everyday, 4. Family can even "post" back in the comments section, although I thought people went away to avoid having to talk to family members for a while?
Some people use Blogs just as a way of sharing with people a hobby that they enjoy, such as classic cars, or even clothes shopping, again with lots of photographs.
A few people actually use Blogs as a diary strangely enough.
And then there are classics such as this.
Also I came across this Blog which I thought was an unbelievably cute idea, bringing out the very girly side of me. "I want one! I want one!" And incidentally this is where my first “Button” came from. But also it raises the very serious issue of awareness for people who struggle on a day to day basis with these kinds of “invisible” illnesses.
I know there are many other types of Blog, but these are the ones which I personally came across during my cyber travels… I hope the links compensate for my lack of photographs of cyber space.
Tuesday, October 03, 2006
The three wise monkeys
Hear no evil, see no evil, speak no evil.
Thank you to Tom Reynolds, for once again keeping us informed about another blog which has been forced to stop due to pressure from the “powers that be”. Unfortunately this time I have not been able to read this blog myself so I am unable to comment on it personally. However, it is more than a little disturbing when people are unable to write truthfully about their experiences “behind the scenes” of services that we as the public rely on so heavily.
This takes me back to when my husband was in hospital. The way we were treated by hospital staff was absolutely appalling. We particularly had problems with the temporary consultant on the ward at the time and even some of the nurses were aghast at his treatment of some of his patients. These ones encouraged me to go ahead with my complaint but said they were “unable” to complain about him themselves and that I shouldn’t quote anything they had said. They wouldn’t tell me why but after what I had witnessed during my meeting with the “powers that be” (namely the Medical Director), and the subsequent result (namely the whole thing being swept very neatly under the proverbial carpet), it has become clear to me that these ones were also unable to truthfully voice what they had witnessed through fear of losing their jobs.
It appears to me that if you are employed in any way by the NHS, then speaking out against anyone (particularly of higher rank) or anything within that service is strictly prohibited. You are to remain loyal at all times, and protect the infallible identity of our Great National Health Service.
Of course I am not employed by the "Great National Health Service", so I can say what ever I like – and I will*. Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful for a lot of the services that we receive, and often the people within these services work extremely hard for little appreciation, but I am disgusted that these same people within this service are forced to keep quiet about things that are just wrong. Although my experiences are from the “outside”, I will freely post about them, and yes, I will quote what other healthcare professionals have said to me, as it is unlikely now that their identity would be discovered.
*You can read my experiences of dealing with the Mental Health Services in my other blog.
Thank you to Tom Reynolds, for once again keeping us informed about another blog which has been forced to stop due to pressure from the “powers that be”. Unfortunately this time I have not been able to read this blog myself so I am unable to comment on it personally. However, it is more than a little disturbing when people are unable to write truthfully about their experiences “behind the scenes” of services that we as the public rely on so heavily.
This takes me back to when my husband was in hospital. The way we were treated by hospital staff was absolutely appalling. We particularly had problems with the temporary consultant on the ward at the time and even some of the nurses were aghast at his treatment of some of his patients. These ones encouraged me to go ahead with my complaint but said they were “unable” to complain about him themselves and that I shouldn’t quote anything they had said. They wouldn’t tell me why but after what I had witnessed during my meeting with the “powers that be” (namely the Medical Director), and the subsequent result (namely the whole thing being swept very neatly under the proverbial carpet), it has become clear to me that these ones were also unable to truthfully voice what they had witnessed through fear of losing their jobs.
It appears to me that if you are employed in any way by the NHS, then speaking out against anyone (particularly of higher rank) or anything within that service is strictly prohibited. You are to remain loyal at all times, and protect the infallible identity of our Great National Health Service.
Of course I am not employed by the "Great National Health Service", so I can say what ever I like – and I will*. Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful for a lot of the services that we receive, and often the people within these services work extremely hard for little appreciation, but I am disgusted that these same people within this service are forced to keep quiet about things that are just wrong. Although my experiences are from the “outside”, I will freely post about them, and yes, I will quote what other healthcare professionals have said to me, as it is unlikely now that their identity would be discovered.
*You can read my experiences of dealing with the Mental Health Services in my other blog.
Wednesday, September 27, 2006
Blogging bloggery bloggers
Taken from the expression “Smegging smeggery smegger” from British science fiction comedy "Red Dwarf"
I wish all I ever had to do was read blogs all day. I’ve come across some brilliant blogs, some extremely well written blogs, some hilarious blogs, and some fascinating blogs. Alas, I don’t seem to have time, as I actually have a life, and I’m trying to write a couple of blogs of my own. (Notice how I list writing blogs separately to having a life?)
Once you start writing a blog it seems to take over your life (at least it has with me). I find myself “writing” blogs in my head while I’m shopping, driving, having a bath, all sorts. Unfortunately by the time I get to sit down with my laptop I’ve forgotten what I wanted to write. It actually takes me ages to write an entry too, and then even when I’ve uploaded it I tend to go back and edit it a hundred times. I really liked writing when I was younger, and had a lot of encouragement from my English teacher at school, but I’ve not done any writing for about 17 years now. I used to find it so easy; the thoughts would just flow and my pen could hardly keep up with my brain, and now it takes me ages to just string one sentence together. Still, I have the same problem when I’m talking these days so that should be no surprise.
I wish I had the skill of some of these other bloggers. One of the best blogs I have read, if not the best, is that of Inspector Gadget. I hadn’t even come across his blog before until I read this post on Tom Reynolds blog. I took a look and couldn’t tear myself away from it. He has a fantastically witty style of writing that I can only dream of possessing. Unfortunately his superiors at work seem to have taken a disliking to some of the very honest comments he has made. Personally I don’t understand the politics behind all this sort of thing, and I don’t really care, I just think this is a very interesting and funny blog. It doesn’t seem “damaging” to police image to me in any way at all; I haven’t learnt any shocking secrets about police policies. He just points out the ironies of how the system works, which most of us know about anyway. If he is forced to delete his blog it will be a great loss, not just to the blogging community but to literature - full stop. I sincerely hope that he is able to continue.
I wish all I ever had to do was read blogs all day. I’ve come across some brilliant blogs, some extremely well written blogs, some hilarious blogs, and some fascinating blogs. Alas, I don’t seem to have time, as I actually have a life, and I’m trying to write a couple of blogs of my own. (Notice how I list writing blogs separately to having a life?)
Once you start writing a blog it seems to take over your life (at least it has with me). I find myself “writing” blogs in my head while I’m shopping, driving, having a bath, all sorts. Unfortunately by the time I get to sit down with my laptop I’ve forgotten what I wanted to write. It actually takes me ages to write an entry too, and then even when I’ve uploaded it I tend to go back and edit it a hundred times. I really liked writing when I was younger, and had a lot of encouragement from my English teacher at school, but I’ve not done any writing for about 17 years now. I used to find it so easy; the thoughts would just flow and my pen could hardly keep up with my brain, and now it takes me ages to just string one sentence together. Still, I have the same problem when I’m talking these days so that should be no surprise.
I wish I had the skill of some of these other bloggers. One of the best blogs I have read, if not the best, is that of Inspector Gadget. I hadn’t even come across his blog before until I read this post on Tom Reynolds blog. I took a look and couldn’t tear myself away from it. He has a fantastically witty style of writing that I can only dream of possessing. Unfortunately his superiors at work seem to have taken a disliking to some of the very honest comments he has made. Personally I don’t understand the politics behind all this sort of thing, and I don’t really care, I just think this is a very interesting and funny blog. It doesn’t seem “damaging” to police image to me in any way at all; I haven’t learnt any shocking secrets about police policies. He just points out the ironies of how the system works, which most of us know about anyway. If he is forced to delete his blog it will be a great loss, not just to the blogging community but to literature - full stop. I sincerely hope that he is able to continue.
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