... asking me what exactly this blog is supposed to be about
"Gadzooks man" writes a Maj Buffy Fortescue-Touserbugle, "So far we've had the tantalisin' promise er Gyppo-kickin', manouche music, bad puns, wildlife - which yer never even shot, dashitall - and then incense-scented tractarian folderol. Meck yer bally mind up!"
To which I reply - where does it say a blog has to be about only one subject? Or indeed even one? Think of it as a 21st-century commonplace book, in which anything that momentarily distracted me may perform the same vaulable function for anyone else whose life is as boring and inconsequential as mine.
I was born too early for my own good, in that blogging as a form - while suiting my 5-minute attention span and inability to focus my meagre talents on one area of human endeavour - only arrived on the scene after I had done all the interesting bits of my life. You find me now, dear reader (I'm assuming that there's only one of you) in a state of placid, well-fed suburban dullness, in which the main challenges are traffic on the route to work, DIY and helping my offspring with homework. All of which are either 'rewarding in their own way' or 'necessary evils', of course, but hardly the stuff of heady autobiography. So you find me merrily flitting here and there, lurching from minor crisis to minor crisis on the road to inevitable ruin.
Still, you've got to laugh, haven't you?
Tuesday, 4 December 2007
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9 comments:
As a veteran blogger in a similarly uxorious state, allow me to recommend a reasonable intake of mind-altering substances. This provides me with enough mauling of the actualite to appease my ravenous readers (a man in Brazil, a Welsh, and a large monkey)? It also gives a Proustian kick to the memory valve, bringing forth tales of callow cupidry. Blog on!
I appreciate being called a man. At last.
You da man, MC! (Makes rapper gesture, gets funny looks from people unaccustomed to seeing an overweight middle-aged man in 'smart-casual' office clothes making quite such a prat of himself)
Don't encourage him, Byard, he'll only try to teach you English.
How charming Mr Byard, I feel welcome here.
Herr Boyo - for a vastly elevated fee I might. The excellent welcome extended to foreigners in Brasil provides the perfect conditions for extravagant charlatanism, as patients who underwent complex surgical procedures at my hand will testify under oath, unless I can reach Salto del GuairĂ¡ by nightfall.
Complex and unnecessary surgical procedures, I hope.
M'dear Mr Ward -
I too was a fellow victim of the TEFL game for some years, though in my case it was less a burning desire to follow a career or improve people's lives than a way of spending time in a country I wanted to be in with my visa arranged for me and a living wage paid monthly while I pursued my studies of the culture, the womenfolk and the mosquitoes in my bathroom.
Boyo - Oi gave they eels ter yer missus, and she horsewhipped me. Oi think Oi gots the best er they bargains, eh bor?
How did you get out? What's the password? What colour is the sky out there?
M'dear Mr Ward - I have now devoted an entire posting to answering your question, such is the tragic lack of anything more exciting in my life.
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