TV's Mr Biffo wrote the other day on the paranoia he feels in learning that people he knows are reading his weblog. It's true. I have never been comfortable in the knowledge that both blood relations and people who employ me and give me genuine cash money actually read this crap. But they do. They are, in fact reading this now.
The worst words you can ever hear, I have found, are "I was reading your blog today". Words which hit you like a kick to the stomach as you experience those five awful seconds of dread filled only by your saying "Oh yeah?" and whilst you wait for whatever they're going to say next. Like "...and you're fired".
This feeling of abject horror is especially true when you have been writing about happy knockabout everyday subjects such as masturbation, golden showers or shitting into a plastic bag, and these words come from the mouth of your boss. Or your wife. Or your father. Or your ten-year-old son's schoolteacher.
The old man, in fact, always follows this statement up with "...and you'll be getting a letter from my solicitor". God, written out of his will again.
The second worst thing you can hear under these circumstances is, of course, "Can I have a free copy of your book? Signed?"
What am I? Some kind of charity? Buy your own, you bloody spongers.
This is known as combative marketing, by the way. It doesn't work.
...And a vote-o, too
Anyway! On to the Thursday vote-o, which, as usual, I've left to the last minute and have not a single vote-o quote-o prepared. Choose the story you'd like to read tomorrow, and it's time to roll out the old stand-by...
* Take a Break: "You'll be surprised at the elasticity", Ann Noreen Widdecombe told poor, cornered David Cameron. "Look!" And she was right. There appeared to be a small car parked inside. A small car occupied by several Kurdish migrants.
* Disney: "Good God!" Cameron exclaimed in horror, and no little fascination as he fought the inexorable pull of the gravitational field, "they do appear to have kept you rather nicely shaven."
* Hospital: "Yes, yes, I am rather pleased with Mustapha's skills. He's got the whole kit and caboodle in the glove compartment of his lorry." It was then that David saw the lorry, parked next to the Pizza Hut delivery moped, and noticed he was... moist.
* Movie Club: *bowk* It's no good. *bowk* There's a bit about baby oil I just can't bring myself *bowk* to write. *bowk* *bowk*
*bowk* Vote me up *bowk*
Now, what was I saying about people I know reading this stuff?
I can watch this over and over and over again. And, yes, I think I will.