The thoughts of Chair(wo)man Meow
The productive thing I was supposed to be doing still isn't done, so without further ado, today's guest blogger [big drumroll]:
Miranda!
Mew... Mew, mew... Mrrrrroooooowwwrrrr.
[purrs at length]
Meow.
Hmm, I'd never looked at it quite like that before [spends some while in stunned contemplation].
Well... [still somewhat stunned] I can only hope everyone found that as illuminating as I did.
N.B. I wasn't going to blog today, but I felt that Albert and Lucy could do with a bedroom (i.e. this post - I'm sure you get the idea by now). I'd like to make it perfectly clear that this is not an uncharacteristic fit of generosity. I'd just rather not walk in on a sight like this again:
allbuecryt
Miranda!
Mew... Mew, mew... Mrrrrroooooowwwrrrr.
[purrs at length]
Meow.
Hmm, I'd never looked at it quite like that before [spends some while in stunned contemplation].
Well... [still somewhat stunned] I can only hope everyone found that as illuminating as I did.
N.B. I wasn't going to blog today, but I felt that Albert and Lucy could do with a bedroom (i.e. this post - I'm sure you get the idea by now). I'd like to make it perfectly clear that this is not an uncharacteristic fit of generosity. I'd just rather not walk in on a sight like this again:
allbuecryt
I don't know about you, readers, but I didn't know where to look.
posted by Occasional Poster of Comments at 11:35 pm
108 Comments:
How dare you!!!
That was private!
You've gone too far, OPC! TOO FAR!
Well, I thought the way you followed us around on our date had the whiff of the paparazzo about it, but... this?!!
It's positively tabloid!
How could you?!
What? This:
allbeurcty ?
You were the ones intertwined on the floor when I walked in. Shameless, it was.
Anyway, aren't you going to thank me for your bedroom? It's got a four-poster bed, you know. And it's en suite.
He's done it again!
At least we're clothed this time.
But, still...
It's in very poor taste.
And after poor Miranda's beautiful speech, as well.
Yes. She was so... Oh, what's the right word?... eloquent, don't you think?
Look, what about this bedroom? Do you like it, or not?
Well... it's ok.
[rather tersely] It'll do.
But, we're not happy with this invasion of privacy, are we?
No.
This will not stand, dude. This will not stand.
Have you been watching my Big Lebowski DVD?
You left it in your laptop.
Right. Well ask permission next time.
Hey! Don't you go changing the subject, buster. I'm on to you.
What are you going to do about that picture of us?
Nothing. It stays.
And let that be a lesson to you.
All canoodling to take place in private from now on.
But people can come in here!
Hmm. I didn't think this through, did I?
[looking most indignant]
NO!
Well, you'll just have to go back to using those Tokyo love-hotels, or something, won't you? I mean, you've got the entire internet at your disposal.
I suppose he has a point.
Hmm. It's not like we have to pay. I guess.
No.
But that doesn't alter the fact that there's a picture of us... well, you know... on this post!
Quite!
Oh, relax. It's just a computer mock-up. It's not really you two.
No?
It's very realistic.
I know. I'm actually quite proud of it.
Kind of sad, though.
That you spent time doing that.
Still, whatever turns you on I suppose.
Hmm. We shouldn't judge.
No, no. Look, I was just... Oh. They've gone again.
Ooh, I feel like a voyeur.
Hmm, nice curtains.
Is this a bedroom?
Zeesus, what is THAT?
Take me whenever you like, Dave.
So to speak.
There you go, Dave. Glad I could oblige.
Personally, I quite feel like a sandwich, but each to their own, eh?
Fancy a trip to India? There's a cricket match going on at present.
Oh, it was just you two.. er three.
Wait a minute, I'll get me fur.
Sure, Dave. Why not? I'll watch anything, me.
Preferably through a keyhole, but I'm not fussy.
Hello again, Taiga.
Yes, it was supposed to be a bedroom. But it seems to be lacking in privacy. Especially now there's a voyeur on the prowl.
Mind you, he seems to be off to India, so maybe if I swapped the curtains (Miranda would have shredded them sooner or later) for venetian blinds...
I can't believe you missed the opportunity to ponitficate on how the media makes voyeurs of us all.
I know. He's slipping.
Well, you know. I just thought it would have been a little heavy-handed.
Probably.
But why would that have stopped you?
Ooh! Get you!
Humph.
I walked right into that one, didn't I?
Like I said. You're slipping.
wv: izboso. Oo! How appropriate!
OPC izboso. [giggles merrily]
Good grief.
Even word verification's against me today...
I'm back, but no more sandwiches, please.
Ah, yes. Sorry about that. It looks like you inadvertently got sandwiched between Dave and a voyeur earlier. It must have been most disconcerting.
Yes, twice actually. It was a bit too much testosterone in the air earlier.
Twice? Yikes.
Totally unintentional. When I mentioned a sandwich I actually had something like a brie and tomato baguette in mind. With a little red onion, perhaps. Maybe some finely chopped black olive.....
Erm, sorry, where was I?
Crikey. I'm sorry for being rude.
I mean, it's not like I set a smutty tone for all this nonsense... :)
19:51? I wonder if the commenting's going weird again. I swear your last comment wasn't there last night.
It's so dark in here. I was behind the curtains.
Hello. I just wanted to add a word for an under-represented group.
You know, very few people seem interested in our feelings. You carry-on, doing rude things, completely ingnoring us - indeed you often drop off in our presence. And then you leave us all on our own all day long.
Does anyone thank us for being here?
Does anyone care?
Bedrooms have feeling too, you know.
Hello, bernard.
Oh, you are a room?
I didn't hurt you whilst banging my head against you, did I?
I go away for a while and suddenly I have an embittered, talking bedroom on my blog!
Taiga, I doubt very much that you'll have hurt Bernard. I think it's safe to say that any room in this blog would come with padded walls as standard.
But of course. My walls are indescribably soft and plush. Imagine a cloud stuffed with the fur of fluffy kittens. I don't suppose you're interested, Taiga, but they were actually designed by a world-leading authority in experimental interior design. The walls, not the kittens. German, I think. Anyway, he specialises in therapeutic wall-coverings. These are a prototype, actually. You're one of only a select few to have tried them out. What is it the sales-pitch says? Ah, yes. "Make every head to wall interface a short, soothing massage... a blissful, burst of lavender-scented calm with every impact." Something like that. Well, anyway, I do hope you experienced something of the sort?
You know, Taiga, you may be the only person to have ever expressed concern for a bedroom. You're welcome here any time. And on behalf of my cruelly neglected bretheren, please accept our deepest, most heartfelt gratitude. And believe me we have plenty of it... We've never had to give it to anyone before. There's great stockpiles of the stuff. A gratitude mountain. It's become quite a problem. We've had to rent storage space to hold it all. Fortunately, we get discounts (they're rooms, we're rooms). Anyway, please, take as much as you can carry. Come back for more... Give it to friends, give it to your kids... Hand it out in the streets of Helsinki. We bedrooms salute you and thank you... you, your family and the nation that raised you.
[sighs with the accumulated relief of bedrooms throughout the centuries] Aaahhhh! It's so good to have found someone who understands us!
[quite overcome] You ...care... you really care!
Dear bernard, I have never experienced such overflowing gratitude. Well, maybe once in Swanage.
I had a wild quess you might be designed in Germany. You see, while I was banging my head against your extremely soft walls
(in whispering voice: That's because I tought Smutty was something to eat, like Nutana. That op-chap makes me confused )
well, where was I?
Yes, I tought you said something like Autsch dieser hurt, konnten Sie mich zarter schlagen .
Don't forget us curtains, if you're starting to express sympathy for so-called 'inanimate' objects.
Pulled back and forth, with no thought for ho we feel about it.
And what about us wardrobes? There's a voyeur hiding inside me at the moment, but do you care? Oh no.
Oh, ye Gods! Now there's a veritable plague of alliteratively named household objects.
Dave, er... Wally, everyone's got to be somewhere.
Christine, pull yourself together.
Bernard, I think your claim of loneliness is being rather undermined by all these talking objects.
Taiga, I don't know what to say? I think you may have experienced a small design fault in my padding. Herr Doktor Flumpf initially considered that such words might instil a sense of well being in the head-banger. The increase in self-esteem concomitant with believing oneself powerful enough to hurt a wall he thought would be of psychological benefit. But one tester with an addictive personality developed an uncontrollable megalomania. Some more sensitive souls developed terrible guilt complexes. Actually, apart from pleasing a few sadists the feature proved wildly unsuccessful. In the end it was supposedly removed altogether.
Taiga, I'm so sorry. It's supposed to make a soothing sound like gently popping marshmallows, or bubblewrap. What can I say? Well, I suppose it is a prototype. I do hope it hasn't gone into production like this.
[sighs]
Oh, how can I make this up to you? You've been so lovely. Erm, I've still got some spare gratitude, if that would help?
I'm a hand, very lonely hand. Wally, talk to me.
Keep your hands to yourself, Dave :)
Come on, Harry. You'll be very happy on Dave's latest blog post. Lots of hands there. Hop inside and, I'll take you over.
What?! I can talk, but I can't leave the room? Now that wouldn't make any sense, would it?
Ha ha, gotcha.
It was my hand :)
christine, I did say Hmm, nice curtains just before I got squeezed, didn't I?
wally, why is the voyeur inside of you? I tought he / she was in India?
But just go on and talk to the hand.
bernard, I took six packs of gratuitous gratitude.
And opc, beware the stones Dave might throw.
I think this is all getting out of hand.
OPC, I belive you have created a monster, which is going to devour you.
Oh, and I've discovered who invented the hand (it wasn't me).
Es war meine entgangene Hand!
Gewürtztraminer! My arch-rival! You've come to examine my prototype wall-padding, no doubt. However much you wine... sorry whine, you will never discover it's secret. Never, I tell you! Nie! Nie! Nie! Begone! Weg mit Ihnen!
What is this some kind of invasion of Germans?
Would it be terribly un-English of me not to make some kind of xenophobic joke out of that?
Just don't mention the war.
Zwei Doktoren in einem Schlafzimmer, entschuldigung, in einem bernard. Wundervoll!
Will you stop talking about the war.
Should anyone be wondering when the next post will be... surely you've got better things to think about? Well, anyway, it'll be sometime within the next couple of days. I'm busy. Mostly locking myself out, giving a locksmith £60 for 5 minutes work and wondering how long it would take to train in that profession.
Dave, right now I'm thinking being devoured by an out-of-control blog might actually be a blessed relief.
Hmm, maybe I could just let passing sitcom characters write all my jokes?
They'd probably be better.
He writes jokes?
Oi!
Nurse wound?!
Har du mördat Miranda eller vad har det hänt med honom?
Nurse Wound, you speak Swedish also?
Miranda is fine. No sinister fate has befallen her. She's having a fine time playing with Christmas tree baubles and balls of wrapping paper. Although, the place is now strewn with confetti, which is a pain.
It's going to be Christmas very soon, you know.
You should lock the fox out. Seriously. It might have rabies.
Is it Boxing Day or what?
Pitkällisten terveystarkastusten jälkeen voimme todeta, että kettu on takkuinen, epävakaa ja häikäilemätön.
Evätkää pääsy Not 4'33":een välittömästi.
"Pitkällisten terveystarkastusten after efficacy ascertain , that fox is shaggy , unsettled and arrogant. Declining access to Not 4'33 instantly" - is the best translation I could find. The first two words are medical terms?
Ooh! Is it something like "Lengthy mental-health examination later strongly proves fox to be unstable, shaggy and arrogant."
Arrogant's surely not correct? Mind you the other meanings of häikäilemätön I can find aren't that complimentary either.
You leave Taiga alone, Nurse Wound!
I'm so truly sorry, OPC, I left the door open and all the nurses escaped.
Fortunately Miranda left her ping-pong ball here and they are happily playing in the closet now. Beware the fenno-ugrian nurse. She is devious.
Well done Inspestor Clouseau. After prolonged physical excamination we may state that the fox is shaggy, unsettled and unscrupulous...
Who took the key?
Let me out, please.
está agujereando tan aquí. nada sucede siempre. ¿cuándo él que va a ser Navidad?
Watch that Peter, he's an imposter. He's not speaking Portugese!
I suspect he's actually Simon the Spanish sheet, throwing his voice.
I seriously tought you locked me out, Opc. Where are you? The Christmas presents are melting.
it is boring so here nothing always happens. when he who is going to be Christmas? said Peter aka Simon.
Is that darren bloke dead?
Darren is currently living on sheets of nori, rice paper, Kraft cheese slices and anything else that will slide under a door.
There wasn't a key, it seems. Or a lock, or a sign saying "Warning! Please do not close!" Oops. Oh well.
Just passing by...
*slides some cheese and peas under the door*
Bernard was bit too Bundesrepublican anyway.
>>Darren is currently living on sheets of nori, rice paper, Kraft cheese slices and anything else that will slide under a door.<<
Microserfs!
101 comments is the most I've seen on any blog ever, apart from Zach Braff's. OPC, you are clearly destined for Hollywood fame and fortune when the Not 4'33" film comes out...
Even more mamazing, he has all these comments, but only three readers! Think how many comments you might get, young Pat, if we all wrote as much as we do here.
Come on OPC, we've waited quite long enough now.
If you're still dithering about applying for an MA, I'll lend you my certificate. Now let's have another post.
Please.
This has been the longest Christmas week, ever.
*sigh*
Yes indeed. I've wrapped all the presents, and posted all the cards ages ago.
It soon won't be Easter at this rate.
Ahem.
Is anyone there?
Hello...
I'm in the wardrobe. There's a funny smell. I think something died.
It must be that darren. You know, the voice we heard, what was it, a week ago. Or two. He must be dead by now.
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