Good news and bad news. The good news I am
working tomorrow. The bad news is that I must yet again have to mess about in
some damp, cold Bavarian forest, dodging adders, wolves and mountain bears.
Which, of course, is a load of crock. The only thing you dodge are nestles and
the only life sign is some fancy tarts taking their Gee-Gees for a trot.
They are always polite – saying
‘GrussGott’, which is Bavarian for ‘Greet God’ (what a bloody daft way to greet
a non-believer), and they go off giggling and talking amongst themselves about
how nice it is to have such peasants as myself to keep their forests clean.
Me thinks – I have just finished my final
exam for a BA with Honours (2.1 Upper) and you can kiss my ass because no
matter how well you polish your Gee-Gees rear end, it will land up in a dodgy
lasagne, and with luck you will eventually be eating it in some dodgy Italian restaurant
run by Poles.
Neigh (Nay?), how can I be so cruel? That
is easy. What is not so easy is suddenly finding out that rewriting fiction is
one hell of a story. (Ooh, that was clever-clever.)
At least, when I wrote my memoirs - I had
undeniable restrictions. History, facts and bullshit. Now I have presented
myself with bullshit, some history and f all facts! Eish.
In this game, there are no rules. You have
goodies and baddies. You ever read a book where every one is a goodie.? Louisa May Alcott’s ‘Little Women’ almost achieved that
accolade before I set it on fire.
‘American Physco’ by Bret
Easton Ellis, nearly achieved the opposite before I had this deranged
idea to find the author, send him into limbo to have great sex with Louisa
using a German made Skill, petrol
powered chain saw. Serves them both right.
They were made for each other. Can you
imagine their co-written love thriller - ‘Fifty shades of girls as mincemeat.’
And then – a copy given away with every MacDonald’s questionable horse burgers.
Sure beats Gideon’s bible supplied at
Holiday Inn.
No comments:
Post a Comment