Wednesday, 4 February 2009


I really thought that I'd be starting this blog with the words "Johnny Candon has gone home" but, for the third time this week, that plan has been scuppered. This time he got as far as the airport before his voiceover agent called to see if he can try once more to record his big potato voice saying "Jameson's Whisky. Ah, sure isn't it grand, is it not, B'Jesus". So, he's staying in my house again. For one more night. Again. Not that I mind Johnny himself. Far from it. It's just that I'd really like a night off from boozing and if Johnny is here then that is impossible. Nothing can stop that inevitability. NOTHING. How come "Let's go to the pub" sounds so depressing today. "We've been coming to the same party for 12 years now and in no way is that depressing" springs to mind. Maybe Johnny and I can just stay in tonight and read. Maybe...

The snow is going. Hooray! Didn't everyone go mental over it though? The news certainly did. They called train delays and bus cancellations "Chaos". Dear Boss, can't come to work today because of chaos. Love, employee. I nearly slipped today on some ice on a bridge which I described as "embarrassing" but no doubt the news would have reported it as "disastrous". I think "Chaos" was the word that they used on 7/7 too. Good to know that they can't really tell the difference between a terrorist attack and annoying weather. Plus, what the fuck was the News doing over the past two days showing viewers photos? It's the fucking News not Vision On. I thought the news came to us. We have to send them stuff now? A photo of snow on a twig is actually newsworthy? Maybe it was actually a slow news day when the BBC proudly claimed that they've had more response from pig-stupid morons over the snow than they did over that fire in Hemel Hempstead a couple of years ago. Well, the snow was EVERYWHERE and the fire in Hemel Hempstead was contained in the one place. Hemel Hempstead. And even then it was only in one bit of Hemel Hempstead, sadly.

Another bad thing about the snow is that it encourages a sort of community spirit. That means talking to strangers. When I walk Jerk in the park, people seem to want to communicate so much more than normal. They LOVE to point out the extremely obvious. "Another cold one". Thanks for that, that'll explain all this snow falling. "It's sunny in Jamaica, you know". Fuck right off, stranger. "I am a man and it is snowing". Er...right. Cheers.

I don't like talking to people I don't know. I'm not good at it, I never have been and I never will be. I just never know what to say with small talk. When someone says something like "Bit chilly today" I just tense up and saying something witty and urbane like "Mmm.." and start walking really fast the opposite direction. Today in Sainsbury's I felt like I was in the 15th layer of hell. The little boy who works the till wanted to talk to me. What is so wrong with shutting up? Have people forgotten how to? Has keeping your pie-hole closed become a lost art form? The think is, this spotty, greasy, random-toothed, human mistake could barely speak and yet that's all he wanted to do. He mumbled something about him having a bad time at work but unfortunately I couldn't hear him or care. It was just a long dribble that went something like this; "Mumble... mumble... mumble... three days off a week ...mumble ... mumble... mumble... speak to my union manager... mumble... mumble... mumble... don't know how you can eat vegetarian food... mumble... get paid more than Doreen... mumble... Graham's cousin isn't here". Stuff like that. While putting the groceries into my bag at the speed of light tied to a supersonic jet, I could only offer a series of yes', I sees and reallys. Then just as I was getting my change I clearly heard him say "The police have only given me a written warning anyway. Next, please". I left Sainsbury's briskly.

Don't talk to strangers. And, Strangers, why don't you show the same courtesy? Let's make next week "Button It Month". Just a thought...

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