I decided to have a little break from blogging just so I could store up bile for the Edinburgh Fringe Festival, of which I'm currently on my way. I shouldn't really have stopped blogging because things have happened this week. Stupid things.
Firstly, I've upset people again. That's normally fine but for the first time I'm getting guilt trips about it. Someone wrote to me and called me a bully. That's not true but it sort of stung. She wrote to me because I thought that a website (marcusmassey.com) was funny. It is very funny. But by laughing at it I didn't think that I was bullying him, I just thought that there was a man who's ego was big enough to have it turned right round and shown to him. You can't describe yourself as élan and not expect a grown adult to think that you're taking the piss.Then Marcus himself wrote to me and I genuinely felt bad. I've laughed at his way of describing himself, how important he feels Egg Card voiceovers are and his velvet suit. Who the hell am I to judge someone? Well, Marcus told me. I am a sad little man who needs to get a hobby. Perhaps horse riding, violin playing or fast driving like he does. He was completely right of course. Looking up websites of pretentious actors isn't a good use of anyone's time and it is pretty pathetic of me. He is right. I am a sad little man. Then I read Josh Widdicombe's blog and thought fuck it, I'm right. (http://joshwiddicombe.blogspot.com/2009/02/trains-and-marcus-massey.html)
I am genuinely upset about upsetting people. Or maybe I'm upset that they're upset? Either way, it doesn't feel good. Last week I had to change the name of one of my blogs because it was, you know, libellous and it upset the person it was about. That was really stupid of me. Still, that wasn't the worst thing I've ever done. Apparently the worst thing I've ever done is defend BrendAn Burns. I got a record 18 complaints! 18 angry people who are furious with me for being quite nice to someone. Well, I've upset enough people and I can't afford to upset any more. BRENDaN BURNS IS A BIG WALLY. There, readers, please come back.
Then I upset the one human being in this world that means more to me than anyone: Jerk. She's not strictly human but she is great and I didn't upset her as much as nearly kill her.
She cut the back of her leg when out running in the park. It was a small cut but there was a lot of blood coming out. She doesn't need the vet, I said like a fucking idiot, I'll patch her up myself. When I got home I got all sorts of anti-septic ointments out and cleaned her up. Then I put a bandage on her. I put it round her leg like it was a layer of very tight skin. Fuck knows why I thought putting it on that tight would be good for her. Oh, yeah. I'm a fucking idiot. Anyway, within an hour her paw had swollen to about four times it's normal size. Honestly, it looked like Jerk was wearing one of those hilarious animal paw slippers. I must have repeated the words "I've killed the fucking dog" 300 times on my way to the vet. Luckily the vet is a professional and gave her pills and bandaged her properly. He did let his professionalism slip just once though. When I told him what I'd done he just laughed and said "Twat".
How am I going to enjoy Edinburgh if I'm scared of upsetting people? I hope I can shake this feeling because there are a million actors, jugglers and cunting, cunting comedians on their way there right now and I MUST hate them. It is my duty. Every single day for four weeks some grinning, bouncing, 12-year old vegetable is going to hand me a flyer for their fucking Improv-a-thon or Pinter for Kids or some such diabolical Christ-Fuck of a production that should be put in a metal box and dumped in the sea. Then the sea should be blown up. I can't spend a month pretending to be quite nice to people who are clearly an affront to man and an embarrassment to their parents.
Four weeks. Four fucking weeks.