I would have written earlier but I've been distracted with other things like... er, changing my ringtone to Yakety Sax which would be a great song to play at my funeral as well. Being led into the crematorium furnace in a fast motion figure of eight chased by a nurse, a short bald man, several women in bikini's, passers by and mourners.
Anyway... I don't know why but my t dar ping's in M&S either its the shop of choice for middle aged looking tranny's or I need to review my spotting mechanism.
Personally I've had a pleasing small moment of female identification, admittedly in dim light but I take it as a encouraging note and suggested I was doing something right, for once. I went out again, after my accident where I wore thick tights to cover the bumps and bruises on my legs, I don't think the rest of my outfit, which was picked out in a hurry, worked quite as well, especially the plain court shoes I brought with me.
Usually when another thread on passing appears on a online discussion forum it tends to give me a form of narcolepsy called tediusrehashedquestionus as the same old views get restated often quite forceful. The only things I will say is that if you're wearing a little Bo-peep costume and six inch heals standing outside Bristol Temple Meeds station, you might not pass. But then one might suggest if you're wearing a little Bo-peep costume and six inch heals standing outside Bristol Temple Meeds station you're likely not to care if you pass or not. There are also no short-cuts, so don't believe the snake oil salesmen.
Above all, don't panic and have fun, self consciousness is the biggest give-away.
*That's enough from auntie Lucy's advice column, you'll be relieved to hear.*
Monday, 17 May 2010
Friday, 30 April 2010
Sensation
At least it wasn't in front of lots of people with mobile phones or other wise I might have unfortunately become a YouTube sensation.
After accidentally discovering my theory that flying over the handlebars and travelling face first on to the pavement really really hurts was correct I stumble up and inspect the damage. Blood, torn clothes and a broken bag yet somehow my phone is still in one piece and working. Maybe in future I should dress as a large phone.
Bot enough about me, I was reminded of the whole sorry saga of grotty tabloid splashes, as the PCC released its decision earlier this month on The Sun's front page stories featuring trans children last September. (which I commented upon at the time). The Daily Mail's website churnalistic effort is still online. As you may have found out the complaint brought by Mermaid's on behalf of the parents of one child featured was only partially upheld, on clause one (accuracy) and clause three (privacy). The other parents complaint through the charity was sadly dismissed. One learns that their details were passed on to a TV production company, as if to increase their wrong doing. The mealy mouthed apology buried away deep inside for a front page story also wasn't acceptable.
After accidentally discovering my theory that flying over the handlebars and travelling face first on to the pavement really really hurts was correct I stumble up and inspect the damage. Blood, torn clothes and a broken bag yet somehow my phone is still in one piece and working. Maybe in future I should dress as a large phone.
Bot enough about me, I was reminded of the whole sorry saga of grotty tabloid splashes, as the PCC released its decision earlier this month on The Sun's front page stories featuring trans children last September. (which I commented upon at the time). The Daily Mail's website churnalistic effort is still online. As you may have found out the complaint brought by Mermaid's on behalf of the parents of one child featured was only partially upheld, on clause one (accuracy) and clause three (privacy). The other parents complaint through the charity was sadly dismissed. One learns that their details were passed on to a TV production company, as if to increase their wrong doing. The mealy mouthed apology buried away deep inside for a front page story also wasn't acceptable.
Friday, 16 April 2010
Scrapbook
Ever since I read about a woman who has kept a scrapbook for her adult life featuring all the wonderful titbits she collected, ticket stubs, invites to glamorous parties, pictures, letters and other mementos, collages and keep sakes. I have had the idea of creating a scrapbook for my own trans life, the intention is to document bits from my trans life and transition with lots of glue, sticky tape and crayons thrown in..
This blog, I guess, is already a written scrapbook, what I will hopefully have is a physical memento of my life. My first entry are the first pair of clip-ons I ever owned. Over the years I wonder if all the silly little things I've done will build up and show the progression of a girl.
I've seen another transsexual who is doing a similar thing but in a neat, slick and way more professional looking manner instead of my slightly playtime effort.
I say scrapbook, it's more a cheap binder with construction paper, cards and pockets. But pretty cool, as far as I'm concerned. :)
Thursday, 15 April 2010
One Pig and Their Dog
Its spring and the Stunt Pig (West Squad) has found a friend. While they've been frolicking I've been out despite the spot which tends to find the least friendly moment to make an appearance. Ready early by my standards I took my time, put the boots in a bag to change into later and set off. Not a great deal happened, other than coming down a grassy steep hill in heals is harder than I imagined and I really must change shoes for the way back as well, yet I never do.
From the actual slope to pondering the metaphorical depths of the slippery slope. My hair is continuing to grow to the length where I feel more comfortable with it. There are, of course, pluses and minuses to this as I'm sure you are aware or can well envisage and my look has blended. I will have to get it styled and trimmed some day, just not sure what can be done with my frizzy mess to make it look better and (preferably) a little feminine.
Thursday, 1 April 2010
Retrofitted Feminism
Hello just retrofitting my post for a 3D release, so if I start *poke* doing *jab* stuff for *whoosh* no reason you know why.
As you've gathered nothing has prompted me to start hitting the keyboard with gusto *throws paper aeroplane at camera*. Last week was Ada Lovelace day, a day to pay tribute and write about remarkable women in the field of science and technology who will hopefully inspire a future generation to enter those professions. Areas the UK need to get good at if it is to she itself of its recent over-dependence on the financial sector to drive economic growth especially outside of the south east.
*camera now looking from bottom of glass as I pour water into it*
Sadly many women are perceived as being totally clueless when presented with anything mechanical or technological and get marketed to as if total idiots obsessed with whether it'll match our shoes.
Perhaps feminism still has a long way to go. I do agree that modern thinking is more inclusive but there is more that needs to be done to bridge the gap between trans and non trans feminists. Feminism has moved on and perhaps so has trans although there are still many especially older self-identified transvestites who appear to lament the fact society and fashions have moved on and women are choosing to wear jeans.
I believe there is a need for feminism to reassert itself if at the very least to protect the progress gained since the last time 3D was popular.
As you've gathered nothing has prompted me to start hitting the keyboard with gusto *throws paper aeroplane at camera*. Last week was Ada Lovelace day, a day to pay tribute and write about remarkable women in the field of science and technology who will hopefully inspire a future generation to enter those professions. Areas the UK need to get good at if it is to she itself of its recent over-dependence on the financial sector to drive economic growth especially outside of the south east.
*camera now looking from bottom of glass as I pour water into it*
Sadly many women are perceived as being totally clueless when presented with anything mechanical or technological and get marketed to as if total idiots obsessed with whether it'll match our shoes.
Perhaps feminism still has a long way to go. I do agree that modern thinking is more inclusive but there is more that needs to be done to bridge the gap between trans and non trans feminists. Feminism has moved on and perhaps so has trans although there are still many especially older self-identified transvestites who appear to lament the fact society and fashions have moved on and women are choosing to wear jeans.
I believe there is a need for feminism to reassert itself if at the very least to protect the progress gained since the last time 3D was popular.
Wednesday, 17 March 2010
Identity 8 Rooms, 9 Lives
A few weeks ago i visited the Wellcome Collection on Euston Road, London for a thought provoking exhibition entitled Identity: 8 Rooms 9 Lives. It explored various topics about the self and identity and was a part of the institutes series of events on the same subject.
The first room I entered was Claude Cahun, whose photography on gender, sexuality and religion struck me as being quite modern looking. The story of her imprisonment along with her partner in Nazi occupied Jersey for distributing resistance propaganda under the pseudonym of a dissatisfied German soldier was similarly fascinating.
The section featuring April Ashley was intending to show that the chosen gender is more than ones identity. Some mention was made of other trans and gender variant folks, along with fascinating information includeing Roberta Cowell, but this was for the most part April's own story, told sympathetically, through her personal artefacts, selected press clippings along with a interesting television interview.
One other notable rooms were that of DNA profiling pioneer Sir Alec Jeffreys whose techniques use has ensured innocent people have been released from prison to more recent uses in genealogy and the dubious storage of DNA profiles on official databases, also a room on diary's (Samuel Pepys, Tony Benn etc.) and how they are used to present the self.
The exhibition runs until the 6 April 2010 and is worth stopping by if you have a half hour to spare.
Sunday, 14 March 2010
Love To Your Mothers
Its easy to be cynical and dismiss it as another Hallmark holliday, and certainly a lot crapola and tat is being peddled but a happy mothers day to all mums, mams, moms, mummys, step mothers, grand mothers, mothers to be and especially to those sadly no longer with you.
Have a good day.
I was going to include a picture of some spring flowers but they're barely poking through, so instead here's a mean looking swan.
Have a good day.
I was going to include a picture of some spring flowers but they're barely poking through, so instead here's a mean looking swan.
Sunday, 28 February 2010
Skirting The Issues
Gymslip hysteria shows the age of satire is dead
By Daily Mail Comment. Last updated at 12:39 AM on 23rd February 2010.
Defying parody, a £70million-a-year quango warns schools it may be unlawful for them to require girls to wear skirts.
And why? Because ... wait for it ... under Harriet Harman's Equality Bill, compulsory 'gender-specific' uniform may breach the rights of transsexual pupils!
Schools that force girls to wear skirts may be breaching the rights of girls who feel compelled to live as boys, according to a quango
It is still unclear how much time and public money the Equality and Human Rights Commission has lavished on its 68-page report. All that's certain is that this lunacy proves, yet again, the age of satire is dead.
In my memory, with the rare exception, often by wearing a skirt so short (although incredibly long by some some trannies standards) they ended being being sent home. Which is what they wanted. Many years later there's a future partner who excitedly suggests they put on their old uniform for a bit of fun only to be disappointed when she appears in a pair of trousers, an old blouse with a frayed cardie.
But apparently there are schools where skirts are worn and in the current guidance from the Equality and Human Rights Commission to public bodies regarding trans users one part politely suggests transgendered boys should be allowed to wear trousers and that it may be unlawful if they don't. All perfectly fair and right one might think given the great discomfort and distress a trans boy may feel if no allowance was made. Suddenly it gets blown up to be a blanket ban on school girls wearing skirts.
(Though personally this blogger feels it to be a highly retrograde step that in the second decade of the 21st century there could be schools which only permit girls to wear skirts in this country. That along with my views on gender identity will probably be dismissed as "ultra-feminist drivel" undermining "traditional British values". I'm not sure what's meant by the latter comment presumably in "Mail world" that's going back to sending unmarried mothers to mental institutions and hideously racist comments are just a bit of banter).
Total bollocks of course, but you suspect they don't really care about the truth when there's newspapers to fill and a daily quote of things to hate to be met, especially if it allows them to bash their traditional targets. Which is that hideous notion of basic transgender rights. As it rumbled on the commenter's, especially the male ones, a little hot under the collar. Many trans children have a hard enough time as it is with bullying and some driven to suicide without attacks like this and the suggestion you are not trans or in a minuscule group that its not worth bothering with. The numbers one suspects are under-reported, some parents, often well meaning, try to deal with it privately or the child learns to hide it.
Its not the only recent example of a document being so distorted it bears no recognition to the original. Claims of secret plots appear regularly along with phrases like PC gone mad and lunacy. Often after someone's done some digging the truth is rather more prosaic with things done for very good reasons. Which shows despite claims to the contrary shows that you can make it up.
Saturday, 13 February 2010
Headlines and Pregnancy's
In tabloid speak I would probably be described as follows "Gender-bender SEX-SWAP tranny Lucy (31)...".
Yet it could be even more offensive a quick search through Google News shows that terms like "lady-boy", "she-male" and others, have appeared in mainstream newspaper websites in the UK and around the world. Even within serious publications obsessed with attention grabbing headlines and search engine optimisation rather than accuracy and sensitivity. A recent ruling by the Press Complaints Commission has ruled that the Belfast Telegraph was wrong to the use the tranny in a headline to refer to a transsexual. The article was about a transsexual who worked in a rape crisis centre. One could argue that her being there should be open to debate, I don't think there is consensus among the general public or among rape victims (though many forget or ignore the many transgendered and trans historied men and women who are themselves victims). In the end a partial slap on the wrists to a regional publication regarding the headline but not the tone of the story, may give slight difficulties to headline writers, but it wont stop future pernicious stories.
Example two follows pregnancy the of Scott Moore. One of a handful of trans men to go public with the fact that they have a bun in the oven and not as some reports state the second occurrence to have happened in the world. Shortly followed by a third and we're back to how can they be men if they have babies it shouldn't be allowed wont someone think of the children etc etc. The arguments have been better put elsewhere and I suspect most readers of this are already familiar with them. It is also a dangerous path to start going down if we were to decide to prevent certain individuals or groups from getting pregnant.
It would be a dangerous path if we were constantly to shout down our critics and probably counter productive that's not to be apathetic just to know there is more than one way to skin a cat. (Who ever come up with that phrase, why skin a cat?)
I also challenge commenter's to describe themselves or me (the latter being something I may regret) in a tabloid style.
Yet it could be even more offensive a quick search through Google News shows that terms like "lady-boy", "she-male" and others, have appeared in mainstream newspaper websites in the UK and around the world. Even within serious publications obsessed with attention grabbing headlines and search engine optimisation rather than accuracy and sensitivity. A recent ruling by the Press Complaints Commission has ruled that the Belfast Telegraph was wrong to the use the tranny in a headline to refer to a transsexual. The article was about a transsexual who worked in a rape crisis centre. One could argue that her being there should be open to debate, I don't think there is consensus among the general public or among rape victims (though many forget or ignore the many transgendered and trans historied men and women who are themselves victims). In the end a partial slap on the wrists to a regional publication regarding the headline but not the tone of the story, may give slight difficulties to headline writers, but it wont stop future pernicious stories.
Example two follows pregnancy the of Scott Moore. One of a handful of trans men to go public with the fact that they have a bun in the oven and not as some reports state the second occurrence to have happened in the world. Shortly followed by a third and we're back to how can they be men if they have babies it shouldn't be allowed wont someone think of the children etc etc. The arguments have been better put elsewhere and I suspect most readers of this are already familiar with them. It is also a dangerous path to start going down if we were to decide to prevent certain individuals or groups from getting pregnant.
It would be a dangerous path if we were constantly to shout down our critics and probably counter productive that's not to be apathetic just to know there is more than one way to skin a cat. (Who ever come up with that phrase, why skin a cat?)
I also challenge commenter's to describe themselves or me (the latter being something I may regret) in a tabloid style.
Sunday, 7 February 2010
I Went To A Marvelous Party - Part 2
Act two.
I did snap a photo (such a cliché I know) before taking the decision to take the phone instead of the camera.
My make-up wasn't helped by the inadequate lighting in the hotel room, next time I'll bring my own mirror and do it in the hall way I think.
Finally making it outside to where a chill had joined the rain and guessing from the slow trickle of people crossing the road and going down a slope that the entrance to the Pink Punters must be around there.
At this point someone stepped out from the reception entrance and said my name, that someone turned out to be Lynn, the esteemed blogger and leading light of the Nottingham area here with another girl who had absolutely gorgeous hair travelling down for the evening. Both looking great, unlike myself and exuding an air of knowing what they were doing... unlike yours truly.
Once arriving at the venue my first good move happened when I resisted the temptation to attempt a dance around one of the poles on the bottom level, a sight which would have scared many innocents. I did attempt to dance on the level above later but realised that I still have no rhythm. Eventually I followed up to the top level where I saw a few more familiar and unfamiliar faces and chatted briefly with a few some whose names I failed to gather above the noise, for which I apologise massively and profusely.
Some time after midnight Lynn left for the drive back to the East Midlands. Nice to have met, It was a unexpected delight to see you. After she left I found myself stood between a conversation on one side was Jo Angel the overlord of the Angels site and forum whose tenth anniversary was the reason we were all here. There were others including Sarah-Jane, Sophie, Justine, Jenny, Petra, Helena, Saffy, Toni Louise (most looking totally in their element) and so many others (mentioned and photographed elsewhere) that my brain couldn't process as it was whizzing along trying to match names to faces I recognised. As Evan Dando once sung "I'm never good with names but I remember faces". I am bound to have left some out and for that I apologise, maybe next time? Apparently I was mentioned in a tweet by Becky. Jane and Becky looked like a fabulous couple who were comfortable together. Given that Becky has been out even less than me she looked like she hadn't been away.
The following morning after 4 hours sleep and with a poor attempt at shaving for the third time in less than 24 hours I checked out and made a vague plan to head back and explore the centre of Milton Keynes. Living around Swindon I'm used to roundabouts but blimey there's a lot in Milton Keynes was the major thing I learnt from this.
In short it was a good night, I learnt that its worth paying for a half decent pair of tights, gloomy lights help to hide rushed make-up and I wasn't as middle aged as I'd suspected.
(The title as some may have guessed was inspired from the Noel Coward song of the same name).
I did snap a photo (such a cliché I know) before taking the decision to take the phone instead of the camera.
My make-up wasn't helped by the inadequate lighting in the hotel room, next time I'll bring my own mirror and do it in the hall way I think.
Finally making it outside to where a chill had joined the rain and guessing from the slow trickle of people crossing the road and going down a slope that the entrance to the Pink Punters must be around there.
At this point someone stepped out from the reception entrance and said my name, that someone turned out to be Lynn, the esteemed blogger and leading light of the Nottingham area here with another girl who had absolutely gorgeous hair travelling down for the evening. Both looking great, unlike myself and exuding an air of knowing what they were doing... unlike yours truly.
Once arriving at the venue my first good move happened when I resisted the temptation to attempt a dance around one of the poles on the bottom level, a sight which would have scared many innocents. I did attempt to dance on the level above later but realised that I still have no rhythm. Eventually I followed up to the top level where I saw a few more familiar and unfamiliar faces and chatted briefly with a few some whose names I failed to gather above the noise, for which I apologise massively and profusely.
Some time after midnight Lynn left for the drive back to the East Midlands. Nice to have met, It was a unexpected delight to see you. After she left I found myself stood between a conversation on one side was Jo Angel the overlord of the Angels site and forum whose tenth anniversary was the reason we were all here. There were others including Sarah-Jane, Sophie, Justine, Jenny, Petra, Helena, Saffy, Toni Louise (most looking totally in their element) and so many others (mentioned and photographed elsewhere) that my brain couldn't process as it was whizzing along trying to match names to faces I recognised. As Evan Dando once sung "I'm never good with names but I remember faces". I am bound to have left some out and for that I apologise, maybe next time? Apparently I was mentioned in a tweet by Becky. Jane and Becky looked like a fabulous couple who were comfortable together. Given that Becky has been out even less than me she looked like she hadn't been away.
The following morning after 4 hours sleep and with a poor attempt at shaving for the third time in less than 24 hours I checked out and made a vague plan to head back and explore the centre of Milton Keynes. Living around Swindon I'm used to roundabouts but blimey there's a lot in Milton Keynes was the major thing I learnt from this.
In short it was a good night, I learnt that its worth paying for a half decent pair of tights, gloomy lights help to hide rushed make-up and I wasn't as middle aged as I'd suspected.
(The title as some may have guessed was inspired from the Noel Coward song of the same name).
Sunday, 31 January 2010
I Went To A Marvelous Party - Part 1
I didn't see a concrete cow but I did get up close with a plastic pig. One of the legendary Unison stunt pigs no less
Just one of several highlights from my visit to Fenny Stratford and the infamous Pink Punters, having left my West country coven to travel across the Thames Valley by train and by bus. According to Google maps the distance was about 72.8 miles. Though most transport companies required me to take a lengthy and expensive detour via London (in the case of National Express, Heathrow) probably not a good thing on a Friday afternoon and and given the cancellations and delays it was probably a smart move.
After much searching I figured the best and quickest way was to get myself into Swindon, travel to Oxford, get the twice hourly bus to Cambridge which stops at Milton Keynes and get a train for the short ride to Fenny Stratford.
For some reason I also decided to attempt it dressed, I suppose, just to prove to myself that I could. Although this involved taking more time to get ready, which I didn't take fully into account hideously underestimating the time it takes to get ready, especially when straightening hair. Cutting the story short it rained the whole time, got splashed by a passing car and walked from Bletchley station.
So I arrive, damp, runny make-up and my hair frizzled, I felt like crap. Though I'm sure the reception have seen worse. On a normal night the sensible course of action would be to put on a nightie and crawl into bed but this was not a normal or sensible night.
Stumbling in to the hotel room I could hear the noise from adjoining rooms and folks rushing about. So little time to rest before I joined them in getting ready, my nails needed finishing and the hair needed to dry and be fixed again for a start. There was also the question of fixing up my face and the supreme engineering achievement that is my support underwear (seriously Brunel would stand up and applaud it, while I'm on the great Victorian engineer why are there so many bland and just plain awful buildings bearing his name? Almost in inverse proportion to his own great achievements. Slough has a particularly dreadful building named after him but the one I saw in Bletchley was not very inspiring. To the man who designed the Clifton Suspension Bridge across the Avon Gorge among many other great feet's of engineering, we name a bit of grey concrete that will crumble and smell slightly of piss. Yes that's a Fantastic tribute.
I'm sorry I digressed, where was I?
My make-up skills had grown a little flabby owing to the fact I hadn't been anywhere and had long ago given up putting on the slap while at home.
Getting ready to step out I felt something I hadn't felt for a long while, nervousness? Giddyness? I'm not sure but it was something I hadn't felt since my first times out.
I suspect it was largely caused by the unfamiliarity of the place I was going to and meeting some people I'd been looking forward to meeting. Once past my initial turbulence the metaphorical pilots voice kicked in telling me I've landed the plane far too often to feel like that and true enough once I took the controls it became simple. By now the noise had died down obviously everyone had gone, but not everyone as I later found out.
The second act will cover the good and bad ideas I had, reel off a list of people I met avoiding it turning into one long "tranny coo".
Friday, 25 December 2009
Happy Christmas
It's Clichéd to be Cynical at Christmas, something away from the usual Christmas play-lists (sleighlist?).
Thank you for reading, it's time to log off and to pour a drink of your choice.
Hope you have a wonderful peaceful, loving Christmas.
L x
Monday, 21 December 2009
What They Found Out About You
A while ago I used Amazon to buy some electronic equipment and a gift for my niece. When I returned to the site the incredibly complex algorithmic stuff which made their recommendations concluded I was the sort of individual who'd be interested in pornographic DVD's and Peppa Pig books.
Thankfully nobody was peering over my shoulder otherwise they'd be left with the impression I was someone who buys nothing but bongo flicks and children's literature. Also imagine I really was buying skin flicks, it certainly wouldn't be the sort of thing I would want passed around.
This was just after one buy over time I'd imagine they'd have a more accurate picture to an almost creepy extent. Imagine the crap Google knows about you, but hey if you are not doing anything illegal, you've got nothing to hide, right kids? What if this information leads to them concluding you are gay, lesbian, bisexual or transgendered you night be bothered.
A woman in the American state of California is most certainly bothered and is suing Netflix (I guess the UK equivalent would be Love Film) for breaching her privacy after exposing her rental history to outside developers who could make a educated deduction (using sources like IMDB) that she was a lesbian, something she would not like to widely known. I speculate what DVD's would lead someone to conclude they were lesbian, the complete Prisoner Cell Block H box set perhaps? I'm drifting into lazy stereotypes I'll admit, the point is if exercising your right to remain in the closet (and even those not) remember finger prints will be left online even if the evidence is cleared out from the local computer.
Yes if you're trans you'll know this as you cant obtain a licence to tranny without IT knowledge.
Thankfully nobody was peering over my shoulder otherwise they'd be left with the impression I was someone who buys nothing but bongo flicks and children's literature. Also imagine I really was buying skin flicks, it certainly wouldn't be the sort of thing I would want passed around.
This was just after one buy over time I'd imagine they'd have a more accurate picture to an almost creepy extent. Imagine the crap Google knows about you, but hey if you are not doing anything illegal, you've got nothing to hide, right kids? What if this information leads to them concluding you are gay, lesbian, bisexual or transgendered you night be bothered.
A woman in the American state of California is most certainly bothered and is suing Netflix (I guess the UK equivalent would be Love Film) for breaching her privacy after exposing her rental history to outside developers who could make a educated deduction (using sources like IMDB) that she was a lesbian, something she would not like to widely known. I speculate what DVD's would lead someone to conclude they were lesbian, the complete Prisoner Cell Block H box set perhaps? I'm drifting into lazy stereotypes I'll admit, the point is if exercising your right to remain in the closet (and even those not) remember finger prints will be left online even if the evidence is cleared out from the local computer.
Yes if you're trans you'll know this as you cant obtain a licence to tranny without IT knowledge.
Friday, 18 December 2009
Hairybum and Smith
"So whose the patent Dr Hairybum?"
"Someone called Lucy and Its pronounced Haribom by the way, Dr..."
"Smith, the writer couldn't be bothered to come up with another funny name. Is she still asleep or has she finally topped herself?"
"Sleeping, again."
"Anything we can do for her?"
"No! Apart from offering more and more happy pills she's an absolutely fucking hopeless case. Doubt there's a cure for what she's got, it's too much to deal with and I'm not sure she's got the fight in her."
"Only one thing for it then..."
"Someone called Lucy and Its pronounced Haribom by the way, Dr..."
"Smith, the writer couldn't be bothered to come up with another funny name. Is she still asleep or has she finally topped herself?"
"Sleeping, again."
"Anything we can do for her?"
"No! Apart from offering more and more happy pills she's an absolutely fucking hopeless case. Doubt there's a cure for what she's got, it's too much to deal with and I'm not sure she's got the fight in her."
"Only one thing for it then..."
Thursday, 10 December 2009
Picking A Caterpillar To The Maypole
One of the features of this time of year is the end of year list or countdown. You are probably sick to death of end of year / decade lists by now, if you're not you will be. They are a great way to fill space during a quiet news period and do sometimes provoke a interesting debate.
A good end of year / decade / century list should have a number of entries which everyone agrees are classics, some which are debatable but have some merit, a few flavours of the month which every critic hypes up but will be deservedly forgotten, an "ironic" entry and something to make you exclaim WTF or words to that effect. In some ways its like Catch Phrase where there is a familiar saying like 'Up the garden path' and there is something which they've clearly made up out of nowhere like 'picking a caterpillar to the maypole' for which you were left thinking "nobody in the world has ever said that, ever".
This is not to be confused with the television list show which is just 50 clips which we could afford, randomly arranged.When it comes to books you just get reminded of how many good books you will probably never read in your lifetime even if I was a speed reader.In some ways I guess its like picking a caterpillar to the maypole.
*May not be four, my recent output hasn't been exactly prolific :).
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)