Smooth

I've set myself a series of goals today. This is one of them. I don't want to be too demanding. I know that I buckle under pressure. That's why... I won... a... belt... fastening... competition...

Sorry. That "joke" seemed to be trying to stop its own momentum, like a baby refusing to exit the womb. I'm going to be in trouble if my own writing begins to sabotage itself.

What have I learned over the past few days? Very little. But that in itself is a kind of learning. Knowledge is everything and everything is knowledge. Even knowing nothing is knowing that there is such a thing as nothing, that nothing is accessible by the human brain, that there must exist some something in opposition to it.

Every day is a school day, whether you like it or not. And you don't like it, because school days are awful. Scratchy jumpers, that lunch box smell, crippling psychological pain. I'm glad someone burned down our school and hid the evidence in my wardrobe.

Hey, I have learned something! The word "goodbye" is a contraction of "God be with you".

OOF. That fact hit you right in the solar plexus.

You see? It wasn't a waste of time clicking on this blog. I assume you have it bookmarked, or maybe even have it as your homepage. Or you might have found it by googling "Headscissors". I don't know. But what I do know is that I haven't - HAVEN'T - wasted your time.

No time wasting here. No, sir.

***

Mood

Shifting. I think I'm feeling OK, though it is dark and Sunday outside (and inside). Maybe my spirits will be boosted if I write an all-time classic blog post. It seems unlikely at this stage, but I've never been one to give up. Except for the whole buckling thing. I do that.

Sometime I should read through all my blog posts, label them properly, and see if there are any forgotten nuggets I can transform into stand-up or a series of novels. I could even come up with my Top Ten Blog Posts. I like top tens, as you can tell from that sitcom list that I still haven't done.

But am I really self-obsessed enough to read through pages and pages of my own writing?

Am I?

Me?

Self-indulgent?

Me: Paul Michael Fung?

Me?

This guy?

I don't think so.

I quickly realised that I've done this ironic self-obsessive denial of self-obession before. But I did it again anyway, because I love my own eyebrows more than I love the respect of my peers.

In conclusion:

Mood = Usual Me

Listening to

I heard this on my friend Sarah's playlist this week. And I was all like "Yeah, man. This is well good" and then I forgot about it for a while, and then I was like "Oh yeah, that song...", but then I forgot about it again, and then it was now and I began this sentence.

Reading

I've been a bit busy. So, you know.

But still. I do read. I mean, I have read. And I will read again. It doesn't make me any less of an intellectual. Just because I haven't read anything for a few days. I've got some serious GCSEs, my friend. I can talk about all manner of things.

Reading is artificial anyway. You have to get out there and LIVE.

Of course, I haven't been doing that either.

But still.

Watching

Lucy and I watched a really good animated Wonder Woman movie last night. It looked great, it raised interesting questions about gender politics (and didn't present any easy answers), and was just generally cool. Gore, jokes, Greek gods, people getting thrown through buildings... What more could you ask for? A million pounds? You're never happy.

Playing

A quiz machine. I went out with some friends on Friday and had a go on a quiz machine. I used to be addicted to them at university. They're a great way to waste loads of money in an attempt to prove how clever you are.

Eating

My words. They are disgusting.

Drinking

Orange juice. Smooth. I'm not an animal. I like smooth everything: peanut butter, marmalade, operators. Though I don't mind bits on occasion. As a child, I hated bits. I used to only eat Fiendish Feet yoghurts because they were all smooth.

But I've matured. Sometimes I'll eat something non-smooth. I might even eat a yoghurt that's not in the shape of a monster.

It's funny how simple your tastes are as a child. I didn't use to like Chinese takeaway. Imagine! What an idiot I was.Maybe when I grow up I'll become accustomed to the bitter taste of my own words. Like olives.

***

This has been fine, hasn't it? But not good enough to greatly improve my mood. So here's something guaranteed to make this post into a classic. One of my patented dialogues between some unlikely individuals!

Punky Brewster: What are YOU doing here?

The MGM Lion: Oh, you know. Just roaring.

PB: What for?

MGML: To signify the beginning of a film.

PB: Do you have do do it for every film?

MGML: For every MGM film, yes.

PB: Why don't they just use the same one over and over again?

Enter PETE TOWNSHEND

Pete Townshend: Hi Punky. Who's this?

PETE TOWNSHEND is savagely mauled; lies in a pool of his own blood.

MGML: WHAT DID YOU DO THAT FOR?!

PUNKY BREWSTER spits out a plectrum.

PB: You're my hero. I want to be like you. Lion's maul.

MGML: Well, thank you. But you could have tried roaring first. Or growing a mane. You've just killed a man! You'll have to go to prison.

PB: But I'm only a child. Also, who are they going to blame: me (a helpless little girl), or you (a lion with a long history of aggressive behaviour)?

MGML: That's a good point. Luckily I've been filming this whole thing. One of my studio contacts hooked me up with a skeleton crew. This whole exchange will be on Youtube by this evening.

The atomic bonds that connect all matter disintegrate, everyone becomes mist.

THE END

***

Well, it was a good try.