Dotty’s 200th Post (Don’t Get Excited, It’s Fucking Boring)

 

Here I am! I’m not dead, the gas board haven’t blown me up yet but two days of NOISE was too much. This is the third day and it hasn’t been as bad this afternoon but yesterday they were making a MASSIVE HOLE on the pavement right outside my front garden so they had a BIG DIGGER and a LITTLE DIGGER and a GREAT BIG DRILL and altogether it sounded like they were drilling through my skull (not in a good, trepanning way) to dig a hole in my brain. I had to hide in my tumble dryer. I took my earplugs but I could still hear it all and I took my laptop but I couldn’t concentrate enough to respond to your comments with the intelligent, insightful, deep and meaningful comment replies I always give and I didn’t want to skimp on my usually soaring standards of intellectual conversation with you all (y’all) or I’d have lowered the tone of the whole blog and you’d have had to go elsewhere for your daily dose of profundity and high thinking.

So anyway, this is my 200th post. For someone with wordy block that’s good going, isn’t it? Except it isn’t, really, because I can’t plan anything yet, it’s like wordy block has morphed into WORDY BOGGLE – if I think any further ahead than the post I’m sitting down to write everything in my head goes to SHITE and any attempt to form a cohesive, ordered plan for a story/poem/Great Novel That Will Change The World only serves to dam up ALL the words. The creative bit seems to be coming back IF I DON’T INTERFERE WITH IT but it’s acting like an unrestrained, separated flock of wild, shaggy sheep running free on the moors, galloping from here to there to everywhere with no discipline or purpose to where they go or what they do. A sheepdog is needed to round them up and pen them in but WHERE DO I FIND MY SHEEPDOG? WHERE IS MY SHEP?

Fuck it, that’s me done for now. I’m going to cook another big pile of Cumberland sausages because the gas has to be turned off again all day tomorrow so they can shove their big pipe up the street – no remarks, please, that’s what they’re going to do, I don’t know how else to word it because the twatting big drill’s started up again and I need to SCREEEEAAAMMM!!!

 

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