Category Archives: Twitter

I can’t tell you that…

I’m going against my natural instincts. They are never to share. Blogging is so freaking alien. I was born in 1960, missed being Gen X, made it into the Baby Boomer generation by literally 8 weeks, but sometimes think i am a sekrit 1930’s gel who’s been trained to keep the real shit to myself.

When i told a friend i’d been offline (this was a few years ago) because i was depressed and didn’t feel like inflicting my real life downer on my virtual community. He was SHOCKED. He’s decades younger than me, and told me straight up, i should have said something online. I loved him for his concern but tell everyone i was depressed? Pht. Or perhaps ffft. Not sure of the spelling there, but take it as an expression of disbelief.

Every time i see that “ruok” anti-suicide campaign, where you say to someone who might be depressed, “are you ok?” and they are so grateful they don’t open their veins/OD/jump off the nearest cliff, but instead say “well actually i’m totes depressed and ready to like, pinterest my suicide plans but yr concern means i am now ready to live again!” i feel like laughing. I was relieved to see a few other pplz also saying, gawd, anyone realise really depressed pplz lie??” Yes, you can tell by my overuse of Z that i’ve been back on Twitter.

However, i can understand that for other people, opening your veins in a figurative sense on social media is a way to ease that feeling of aloneness. I wish that worked for me when i’m depressed. So if you’re like me, and people offering sympathy/feelingz makes you want to run away, smiling brightly all the time, not because you don’t appreciate their concern, but because nothing stops the fucking pain… perhaps see a psychologist (because that DID work for me). Continue reading


Interesting times

Well, here i am, November, and i should have a working computer in a week or so. I’ve got a computer that works but has a dodgy mouse plate (every so often it goes rogue and hits links or marks text) which can’t be trusted online, so i’ve been using that to edit the trilogy. It’s also got a coffee-soaked hard disk, so i’m saving to memory sticks, clouds, and everywhere else i can cadge some disk space.

The editing is nearly done – i’m on Book 3, and the other two are done. I can’t believe it’s taking so long. I’m at the point of giving up writing and taking up something like illuminating manuscripts by hand, you know, something quick and totes 21st C.

Meanwhile, despite liver getting steadily better, i’ve had non-stop health probs, including so many cancer scares i’m almost blase over blood tests, MRI’s, and CAT scans. Almost. MRI’s are an exercise in Zen and the Art of Keeping On Breathing, and I still find waiting for results is terrifying. So far, so benign.

Tip for MRI machines – put in good earplugs and then their headphones over the top. Doesn’t kill the noise, but brings the constant disco thump down to ‘there’s a nightclub next door’ instead of ‘i’m lying with my head in a speaker at a Boney M concert’.

Latest was ‘you may have some kind of sinus cancer’ and a CAT scan that showed up what they thought was a brain tumour. It was, but it’s apparently not the dangerous kind. Turns out all those years abusing my body are really starting to pay off.

Anyway, weird thing about being away from Twitter this long? I’m cured. I don’t even think about it much. Which is a worry, as i am going to need to go back soon, at least to let people know my books are out.

What if i’m like a bornagain non-smoker, and can’t stop myself from criticising other people’s obsessions with baby hippos, politics, or i-Things? It’s a worry. Still, I gave up smoking and didn’t become a bornagain, so I’ll try to have faith.

One day at a time.

copyright 2015 https://stinginthetail.wordpress.com


Rumours of my demise are greatly exaggerated

Just discovered 2 unpublished posts from last year, put aside to edit later – what can i say, 2013 was a complete bitch of a year.

Among other financial disasters, the washing machine died then the “new” (read 16 yr old, but new to us) Tank blew an engine, so we went into debt to pay for a new one. The landlord decided fixing the house wasn’t worth their while and kicked us out because we kept asking them to fix the leaks. Nice thing to happen to two broke disabled people in the middle of a NSW winter.

On the bright side, i’m now in Queensland. Only took me from 2009 to now. Bit like my novels, my Invasion of Queensland was delayed. Some other sucker is renting our old mould-ridden House of Doom and Mr Whatsit and I are on the sunny Gold Coast.

I would like at this point to thank friends (ones i had no clue i had – S you are a star and a half) and family (Mum of course and oh Ruby) for loaning $ and subsidising the move – without your help we would not have made it. Or we might have, but probably hitch-hiking and without any of our worldly goods.

Even the Mother in Claw helped, and gave us a spare bedroom when we first moved. That she then tried to kill both of us via inhaled cigarette smoke, well, Mr is off the asthma inhaler since we got out of her place, so let’s just try to forget the horror.

Being warm without having to pay for it with a 15 degree temperature drop the next day is the best bit. It is 28 C (82F) today, 28 tomorrow, unlike NSW’s 24 C (75F) today, 45 (113F) tomorrow, 21 (69F) the next.

Anyhoo, so i’m here, not really queer, and back in the groove, after a few months where i was so sick (various reasons including stress, actual illness, and being crippled in the first place, as moving did my back in) so i didn’t even log onto Twitter much.

The poor Thing, my trilogy only part-published, is much-neglected, but i’m back working on it. Publication date? Oh, don’t mock me. Soon. Presuming soon can be “before the end of 2014”?

Meanwhile, I figured if i don’t post something, people might think i’m dead, and there are some i don’t want to give that satisfaction to.

So, much love to everyone, and if you want me, ping me on here or Twitter – i’ll be neck-deep in The Thing parts 2 and 3. I was very pleased to see that Part 1 The Birthday Dragon is still at number 5 on the Smashwords best rated Sci Fi listings (number 7 on the Fantasy list) – and at number 16 on the whole site, which is a freaking achievement.

You don’t need to even have read Sci Fi or Fantasy, some of the people who’ve most enjoyed the book had never read the genres before. There are Reviews and you can read 20% of the book for free. Then it’s only $2.99 to buy the rest.

****

copyright 2014 https://stinginthetail.wordpress.com


Forty Days and Forty Nights….

Well, i cracked the Self-Imposed Social Media Exile after 40 days in the Desert and started dropping into Twitter. I missed Twitter. Facebook i missed so little it’s brought me to a decision.

Naturally, it was something i already knew but had buried under deluded ideas of book promotion.

I hate Facebook. There, it’s said. Hate. Hate. Hate. Well, dislike intensely, at the least. Anyone i like on Facebook, i already like on Twitter and their blogs. If we need more contact we have email and can talk on the phone.

My Facebook Account as Polo Shawcross (my writing alias) is Deactivated and this is now a Facebook-free zone. I’m going back to Twitter – where a person can be free.

Of course there's such a place as West Arsecrack - Google Earth doesn't know everything.

****

In other news, i was stuck on Book 2 #TheThing and couldn’t get past the first two chapters – then about 6am i woke up, and thought “That’s it!” Suddenly figured out there is a character missing from the first two chapters, (one who can easily be picked up) and now i can get on with writing.

****

Obligatory Bit Where I Try to Turn You On to E-Books
Mine In Particular

As one reader put it – “If JRR Tolkien, Douglas Adams, Jane Austen and Phillip K Dick were to collaborate on a book, they might write something like this.” It’s also been compared to Terry Pratchett, Connie Willis, and “like Carry On Blackadder meets The Graduate – with added stimulants.” So obviously i drugged everyone because they thought it was very funny too. If it would get me reviews, i would totally do it.

Polo Shawcross wishes for a new life, but the Birthday Dragon brings a ghost who says he’s not one, a best friend who thinks he’s gay, and a very bad reputation. Polo’s crazy extended family keep trying to kill him, and he becomes an unwilling party to treason. Adventure with more than one twist, set in a vivid new world where Men might be Dragons.

Book One of the Polo Shawcross Journals – “The Birthday Dragon” is currently Top 10 on the Smashwords Highest Rated Sci Fi & Fantasy charts and available in various formats including those to suit the Kindle or any other e-reader. You can read 20% free to see if you like it before you buy, and read the reviews in full. It’s not on Amazon, but it is on Smashwords, the Apple iBookstore (for iPads and other Apple devices), Barnes & Noble, Sony, Kobo and the Diesel eBook Store.

If you don’t have an e-reader but have a computer, there’s a free Amazon download that gives you the look and feel of an e-reader on a computer screen. (PC version is here and there’s a Mac version over here. PC version is very good, don’t know about the Mac one.)

copyright 2011 https://stinginthetail.wordpress.com/


10 Reasons Not to Follow Me on Twitter

You see a lot of people begging you to follow them on Twitter, so they can get a bigger Follower list. You shouldn’t follow me. Not at all. I can hardly keep up with the Followers i have. I probably won’t follow you back, so don’t do it.

In fact, i bet i can think of ten more reasons why you shouldn’t follow me.

1. I’m not always on a lot every day, but i make up for absences with  a high typing speed. If you’re not following many people, you’ll get a wall of me. “Many” in this case means less than about three hundred very chatty people.

2. I’ll follow you back, then decide oops, you’re not for me after all, and unfollow. Unless you happen to try to Direct Message me (to send a DM, the other person has to be following you back) or use a program like Twitter Karma to show you who’s unfollowed you, you’ll never notice.

3. Sometimes i divest myself of followers in drug-induced frenzies housekeeping binges, by Blocking then Unblocking. This makes them unfollow me too, which i figure is fairer than just unfollowing, as i don’t really want you to follow me on Twitter. Once i did it to about 500 people, so don’t feel special don’t get paranoid.

4. I talk about my writing. A lot. Everyone on my twitter list gets to know the #amwriting hashtag, because i tweet to it usually a couple of times a day. (It’s a writers’ group on Twitter founded by @johannaharness, who’s a very nice person to follow, to find out more, click on link – opens in new window.)

5. I rant. Pretty much all the time. I shout about religion, feminism, humanism, politics, bigotry, getting older, um…  sorry ,what was i saying? Politically, I’m an anarchist monarchist, which means lots of shouting. I get to be queen, and you can do what you like. Unless i’m right there, and bossing you round, but i can’t do that to many people at a time. Not without a sound system.

6. I don’t get jokes, or sarcasm. Call it being blonde, autistic, whatever. Sometimes i do, but i fluff it reasonably often.

7. I’m vain and want you to pay attention to me. At the same time, just when you’re sure i’m the shallowest person on the planet, i’ll disconcertingly pay microscopic attention to you. Usually when you’re being light and flippant.  (See also .6)

8. I am evil, and regular readers will know i’m the ad hoc Antichrist. I have to fill in, seeing the real Antichrist met with an unfortunate accident and is in a coma. *Hides cosh behind back.* It’s nearly time for the Rapture. (see below)

9. Did i mention my book? I call it The Thing, but that’s because it’s a shorter title than than the real one. and i need a short version so i can earbash you about it on Twitter. (Twitter only allows 140 characters.) Not about buying it, that joy is still to come. You get to ride the creative process. Or me wasting time on Twitter when I should be writing. This is actually The Thing Mark II.

10. I’ve already forgotten why i’m doing this. (See 1.) (NOTE: that doesn’t make sense, because 1. was edited, and no longer includes the bit about how dizzy i am… *sighs*)

Despite the above advice, if you want to see what i’m shouting about now, to follow me on Twitter, (remembering that when the Rapture comes, you’ll be one of the ones that God’s Giant Faulty Vacuum Cleaner leaves behind), or perhaps if you’d like to block me in a pre-emptive act of self-defence to save your immortal soul…

it’s ~ @stinginthetail ~

© https://stinginthetail.wordpress.com/


It’s not you, it’s me…

This post can be subtitled – Why I Unfollowed You on Twitter.

Over the weekend, I did something amazing to my Twitter account. In the last post, we were publicising the competition to win a prize – an art catalogue pictured here on this blog, a guest post from Christopher L. Jorgensen (@jackassletters on Twitter) . The competition (open until 3rd March 2010) can be entered at his guest post on the Tweet Fail blog, The Secret to Fewer Followers. (NOW DRAWN – for details of Christopher’s adventure, see the previous post. Winner was @Fifikins!)

The post inspired me, and i decided to bite the bullet. I’ve always been strict about spammers in my nearly a year on Twitter – i use the Block & Report button a lot. I realised early on, that I don’t care how big my follower list is. As i’ve mentioned before in “So, how big is your virtual penis?” I’d rather have people i like and enjoy around me.

  • There were 850 people following me.
  • I had 550 i was following
  • About 20 of those weren’t following me back.
  • I was Listed by about 115 people.

So, i ran through the methods Christopher lists in his post, and loaded up Twitter Karma.

  • I began by Defollowing everyone who wasn’t still tweeting – in the last two months or so. That is, I blocked the person, then refreshed the page, then unblocked. (Twitter doesn’t give any other options.) This forced them to unfollow me. It seemed fairer to Defollow, than to simply Unfollow and leave them following me. After all, they can always follow me again if they want to, and i didn’t want people to think i was trying to rort my follower numbers. Most people don’t check their followers, so don’t know who’s unfollowed them. (It’s one of the functions that Twitter Karma has. See who is following you back.)
  • If anyone had turned spammy I blocked and reported – the more spammers are reported, the less of them will be causing Twitter to crash by overloading it with ads about raising the numbers of your Twitter Followers.
  • If i couldn’t figure out who they were, weren’t really into their conversations, and we didn’t seem to have even any Twitter buds in common (that they were talking to on first few pages), i Defollowed.
  • I looked at 100’s of profiles in the end, and anyone i didn’t recognise as someone i interact with, (or someone i follow and adore, but don’t interact with often) i Defollowed.
  • I also Defollowed some #amwriting people who i don’t personally chat to, as i can always follow their writing tweets on the #amwriting hashtag and they can read mine.

#amwriting was founded by @johannaharness
a wonderfully inspiring and supportive writers’ group on Twitter
it asks the question ~ what are you writing?
To find out more go here.

  • Then there were the people i’d spoken to and they’d not really ever spoken back, which isn’t much fun after the first couple of times. I mean, why would you want someone to follow you, but not be prepared to speak to them? (These were not people who had lots of replies, i checked.)

At four in the morning, also known as stupid o’clock, i finished, down to around 400, most of whom were ‘mutual friends’, with less than 10 one-way follows. There, i thought, staggering off to bed. That’s so much more manageable.

In the morning… – well, after lunch – i went back, and loaded up Twitter Karma again. (You can see all your followers on one page, makes it easy to see.) Now i’m down to 345 people. Wow, i can see my friends again! I hadn’t realised how cluttered it was.

After a few days, I’ve shed a few more people, (easier to notice who didn’t seem friendly) and added a couple. None of the new ones i’m not following back have spoken to me. No point in adding them but they’re welcome to follow. So far, they’re not spammers – i’ve blocked and reported maybe 50 of those. I’ve also Defollowed several who obviously only added me because of a keyword and didn’t seem to be engaging much with followers. Like the Newcastle radio station who ignored my tweet that said i couldn’t get their station from here.

I’ve also discovered ManageTwitter, which does multi-unfollows – thanks to @Tarale . It wouldn’t have helped me, as i wanted them to stop following me too, but it would have been handy.

**************

In other news: The Thing (my work in fitful progress) proceeds – i had to lose 30,000 words. Not because i had too many, but because those ones were suddenly irrelevant. So i’m down from about 95k to about 65k. (My target is 110k so it was a hard cut to make.) I’m pleased with how it’s going, the plot tightened up so much with that 30k gone.

There was a scene where his mother fell off a tower, and the hero fell too, but the plot required her to be crippled and him to survive, but i couldn’t make it work until i realised – silly me – it was the half-brother what done it! I’d been trying to hammer the scene out, unable to figure it, and suddenly it dropped into place – like people falling off a tower. And 30k of it just didn’t work any more, because it was all trying to fit the scene in without it making sense. I keep learning so much as i go.

**************

What else? Feck knows, i’m not paying attention, i’m trying to focus on The Thing. Whilst procrastinating, I have updated my bio on here – it was previously only about 60 words, now it’s 600 – the tab above with All About Me on it.

There is bad stuff happening all over, especially with the Puritans pushing for net censorship. I get irate on Twitter about it. And i look at kittehz, make jokes, swap food porn, pine for a larger garden, tease Generations X & Y, and send tweets to the Prime Minister that he never acknowledges.

Follow me there if you want to know what i’m ranting about today.
Or for a laugh.

I can’t promise i’ll follow you back.

**************

© https://stinginthetail.wordpress.com


You want me to stick rhinestones where?

I don’t think this needs much introduction, other than I’m proud to count @Tweet_Fail as a friend, and you may remember i did a guest post for her blog not long ago.

This is her guest post for me.

*****

I used to think my grandmother had some sort of palsy. We’d talk about popular culture, and her head would move from side to side. I now understand what she was doing, because and I’m turning into her a little more every day. Not a day goes by that I’m not shaking my head at the antics of people who make their living being famous.

If you can successfully pretend to be someone else, people throw gobs of money at you. Or, if you’re completely untalented, you can go from being an ordinary girl next door, to one of the Girls Next Door by forgoing such mundane things as morals, standards, and self-esteem.

The ridiculous, shocking, and strange has become the norm, as many people become famous by debasing themselves on reality tv. In the end, we will all have our 15 minutes of fame, because it’s much cheaper to film ordinary people doing ordinary things than to have writers waste their precious time on such silly things as character development, and plot.

Things that have left me contemplating the state of the world lately:

  • Heidi Montag (from The Hills), during an interview following her 10 Plastic Surgery Procedures in One Day, who said, “I want girls to understand that beauty comes from within.” She’s right. In her case, beauty isn’t skin deep. It’s actually just as deep as the surgeon’s knife.
  • Snookie, from the reality show “The Jersey Shore” who is now renting herself out for parties. One has to wonder, “As what?” It seems to me that the type of parties where she would be a welcomed guest already have their share of loose young women and drunks who show up for free.
  • The freak show that is Nadya “Octomom” Suleman. The woman should be in treatment for her addiction to birthing large quantities of children she can plop in front of a tv camera. Or forcefully sterilized. Instead, she gets interviewed everywhere and becomes a media darling.

She’s even on the recent cover of Star magazine, claiming her new bikini body didn’t involve surgery. Right. Shut off the lights and lock her up already. [Star was consistently down, link leads to starcasm.com which shows before and after]

This latest thing that almost made me pass out from extensive eye-rolling:

  • Jennifer Love Hewett’s vagazzling. “It looks like a disco ball.” I have never seen a man look at a disco ball and heard him say, “I want a piece of that.”

Here’s a clue: guys don’t care what it looks like. It can be fuzzy or smooth, vagazzled or plain, perfect or asymmetrical; as long as the welcome sign is up, they’re willing to give it a go.

I do have to wonder what kind of friend feels comfortable saying, “Let’s glue stuff on your cooter. You’ll love it.” I have lots of female friends. The most I’ve ever done is rub suntan lotion on their backs. I can’t imagine in a million years offering to stick things on their genitals. Or, if I got drunk or high enough to propose it, having them happily agree.

Jennifer obviously has much more time on her hands than I do. Husband wouldn’t patiently wait for me to go out after hearing, “just 15 more minutes, honey, this butterfly is almost perfect.” Swarovski crystals is going to have an amazing year, as bored young women follow in her footsteps to decorate their lady parts.

I just checked. The following domains have already been secured by people looking to cash in on what’s certain to be a new fad:

1. Vagazzle.com

2. Vagazzling.com

3. Vagazzler.com

4. Vajj.com

5. Vajayjay.com

6. Vajazzle.com

7. Vajazzling.com

There’s probably another 50 domains that are variations on the theme. At least one of them will be opening shop with kits and instructions. If they’re smart, they’ll run ads in every Ghost Whisperer commercial break and clean up like thieves.

I won’t be vagazzling. But then, I also don’t have ear holes down to my shoulders, or piercings anywhere not visible to the public. When I get my 15 minutes of fame, I’ll be shown in “mom” jeans and sensible shoes.

I’m fine with that.

© @tweet_fail on Twitter – also at the Twitter Fail blog


Lo, and i did a guest post…

We’ve mentioned @Tweet_Fail and the Twitter Fail Website before, but this is even more exciting than when I gave Twitter Fail my Kreativ Blogger award…. which was pretty exciting, because i had to win it from @jean_blore to be able to give it away (and it turned out to be Tweet-Fail’s birthday, which we didn’t know!).

However, this time, it’s my first ever guest post on a blog.

I’ve been asked several times to do guest blogs or blog swaps, (and the one person who offered to do a guest blog here, i’ll be onto you shortly). Each time I took a rain cheque, thinking i needed to focus on other things, but i realised it was coming up for about eight months since Tweet_Fail asked me. I do enjoy procrastination, but not that much.

What did i blog about? Well, it’s all about how Guy Kawasaki did not invent that motorbike…. (link opens in new window) – inspired by a tweet Guy Kawasaki sent me the other day.

Most people think GK’s a win at Twitter – i think he’s a real Twitter Fail. Also mentioned are some celebs who Twitter – some who i think fail, and some who don’t.

Enjoy.

© https://stinginthetail.wordpress.com/


Happy Birthday to Me

It’s been an interesting couple of weeks, at least virtually. I’ve had to block some people for being idiots on Twitter, not that it shut them up, but at least i didn’t have them on my main page – they were actually threatening to go cut themselves – eek, emo alert!

Unfortunately, the Twitter block function is imperfect. It doesn’t actually sodomise and then peel the person you aim it at. Wait, sodomy is more fun than they deserve… better make it sodomy with a cactus. And we could peel them with… well, this is what the Gleaming Instruments of Death were made for, maybe Twitter should call me.

Despite the fucktards,  i did get a popular blog post (see previous) out of the contretemps. (Popular for me does not mean millions… that one’s topped 200 on the bit.ly links, not best ever, but good.) I know this because I’ve been looking at my stats – world domination proceeds slowly but steadily, with occasional peaks when i get controversial.

Today is my birthday – yep, 49, which is too big a number to think about. Yes, 31st October, Halloween – seriously, what did you expect? Me being the Queen of Darkness wasn’t exactly an accident. Halloween is however, alien to my culture. Trick or treaters will be greeted with “It’s my birthday, where’s my present?” Funny, they all seem to run away when you put them on the spot.

While i’m waiting for the children to arrive, i thought i’d have a slight rant…

*****

Some of the top searches used to find this blog are:

pony, budgie, penectomy porn,  funny cats,  cameltoes and tattoos

It’s like i’ve been saying – Search Engine Optimisation Experts, Gurus, Entrepreneurs, and the rest of the people trying to flog you dead horses on Twitter are way behind me. Yes, not just eunuchs, budgies, camel toe, and tattoos, I’m getting a toehold in the “pony” market.

Hello little girls! Welcome! I was once like you. Longing for a pony of my own. For horses, i could and did get up at five a.m. to feed and groom, i mucked out stables and didn’t mind the heat, the cold, the rain, the smell of manure. I coped when horses bit, kicked, and trod on me.

I lived through them bucking me off, into lakes, rivers, trees, fences, and walls. With being wiped off on anything handy. With them getting over-excited and freaking out on a regular basis. I love horses, so it’s part of it.

It’s not some kind of privation – though of course one gets dusty, muddy, gashed, broken, bent, (this is because leather will imprint as one of your earliest sexual cues), and then thrown off into a prickle patch. It sounds awful, and no fun at all.

However, right now, crippled as i am, if you gave me a horse (and the wherewithal to keep it), i think i’d still happily drag myself out of bed at 5 am. There’s something about horses. I’m the same way with words. The infection lasted. “It’s just a stage she’s going through.” Nah, it was me. Who i am. I’ll always love horses and words. They bring me joy.

No matter how crap life is, just seeing a horse lifts my spirits. I can actually feel better about things if i just imagine being round them. I take myself riding, in my mind. I even feed and groom horses, saddle up, and pick out their feet. The familiar rhythms are all there, in my memories.

I start to write (when i’m not procrastinating, which doesn’t bring me joy, though it can be very productive in regard to getting anything but writing done), and as the words start to flow, i get a similar pleasure.

Some time ago, especially after an incident where in a short time, I had some rather close-to-death experiences, i decided to focus on what brings me joy. It’s not possible to completely avoid that which doesn’t, as i’m unfortunately trapped here on Earth with you humans – but i can certainly wipe out the effects of the dire.

Things like good whole food, being near water, and letting writing be a full time pursuit. I see horses most days, some live on the way to the shops. The food’s tricky, here in the sticks – it was easier to get good meat in suburban London. I used to go to the local Halal (Islamic) butcher when i lived in West Hampstead (though he was over the border in Kilburn). I wonder now if they’re still there. They were nice, even to me, a bare-armed, bare-headed, infidel woman.

Most people are just people, you know. Governments and religious leaders like to focus on the differences between us – divide and rule is their basic policy. Just note how many times they try to make you scared – but frankly, good people come in every colour, religion, and sexuality.

Complete maggots likewise. Of course, most people think their actions are justified. Let’s face it, even Hitler didn’t set out to be evil, he thought he was doing Germany and the world a favour. He thought it was logical. That exterminating human beings was inhumane didn’t matter, because he’d already decided – these were not humans.

Once you dehumanise your enemy, it’s easier for your people to kill them. One of the main problems for soldiers is that in order to keep killing, they have to see the enemy as less than human. We’re not actually designed for murder. With some exceptions.

See, i don’t see the Devil as some kind of external influence – i think we’re all creatures of duality – we’re all capable of both beauty and horror. Which one you manifest, is up to you. If you let yourself be filled up with rage, hate, and insecurity, if your entire life revolves around getting others to pay attention to your attention whoring, then hell, sugar, i’m going to block you on Twitter.

We all have these things inside us – i choose to manifest mine as funny blog posts. Not all of it – there’s a heck of a lot of energy i can use there. The poison others send me can be deflected, returned, or i can use the energy for something constructive, that brings me joy.

So i write. By the way – did you see? Someone found this blog while looking for “funny cats” – oh yeah, baby, i’m into Lolcat territory on Google Search.

Weez gonna be hooj.

****

In other news: in The Thing i am writing – the hero needed to be older – he was having sex, and i figured 13 was too young. Weirdly, i was basing his history on several people i know, but sometimes, fiction has to be toned down from real life.

I also discovered – once i’d stopped, corrected all references to age, adjusted his language and others’ behaviour to him – that i’d forgotten to note the timing of events in the narrative on a calendar, so i knew for instance, how long it was since his birthday. Then i realised one of the characters had broken the plot, so I’m currently sorting that. Silly bugger died before his time.

There’s a lot to keep track of, lucky i do love spreadsheets. I still refer to my synopses, outlines, and summaries of this first bunch of books, which i drew up using the Snowflake Method. They need tweaking of course, as the narrative changes, but that’s okay, there’s elasticity built in.

Tip: every so often, I save each current document or spreadsheet (if was Book01) as 02, then 03 and so on. This is in case you mess up and need to go back to a previous version. You can also use Word’s version tracker, which saves versions within a single document. In case of accidental deletion of single documents, i like to keep separate copies.

I once inserted an image over an entire document i had no copy of – so yes, i’m paranoid.

****

On the longer list of searches –

  • why smugglers
  • my house is trying to kill me
  • switchblade and a motorbike
  • realistic mannequins with pubic genital
  • i am not a whore

Why smugglers? I am not a whore? (The others make sense, blog titles or  I’ve blogged on them.)

And SEO experts want you to pay to get listed on Google? Lord above, with the way it works, how can you not be listed? Of course, you may not be listed under what you want to be.

I suppose Beloved Visitors might be miffed, if they arrive looking for penectomy porn and find me instead. On the other hand, thinking about it, the Queen of Darkness, with a bullwhip and a cattleprod, ready to run over you with a tank if you don’t donate to the Hello Kitty Kalashnikov Office Chair Fund, is probably just the woman you’re looking for.

© https://stinginthetail.wordpress.com


Celebrity Fish Battle with Robson Green

[Sadly, the pic company i was using stopped providing WordPress users with pics – so i lost most of the original pics for this post]

Yes, i often sound insane, but the difference is, Beloved Visitors, being the Queen of Darkness is merely eccentricity – and being the Antichrist was just a lucky break. (The real Antichrist  met with an Unfortunate Accident and is still in a coma.) However, every so often, i run into the genuinely loopy on Twitter or around the traps.

Laugh at my jokes... or die.

Laugh at my jokes... or die.

Not to worry, i know what to do. This usually involves getting away from them quickly. One does not engage with those escaped from asylums. What, did you think i’d hang around? Feck, i really do have better things to do, even if it’s scratching my arse.

No sense wasting one’s time with the truly hopeless: those who enjoy and promote their victimhood, (“Come watch me cut myself on cam!”) or are so paranoid they can’t even hear what you say to them. Better just to block.

However, the other night i wasn’t expecting insanity, i wasn’t even online. I was watching the actor Robson Green, on his show “Extreme Fishing”. He’s completely huge in Britain, where i lived for a while, I’m not sure about the rest of the world. His show is airing here on Lifestyle on pay-tv, not either Discovery or National Geographic. Fitting for a man known as the “housewives’ favourite”.

Probably need to say here that I don’t have a problem with either fishing or hunting (even on tv) – however, i do have a teensy problem with gratuitous cruelty.

******

I watched a bit of “Extreme Fishing” last week, enjoyed Green’s obvious pleasure and excitement, but was left uneasy, as it didn’t appear he was killing any of the fish after catching them. This week he was in the Deep South of the USA. We thought we’d give it another go, but it was hard, as fish after fish was pulled out of water in various ways, before being dropped somewhere to die slowly.

One memorable sequence was bow-fishing: a large fish was reeled in with an arrow through the belly, then the arrow yanked out. Green holds the fish up, saying his  piece to camera. The fish gasps, over and over, trying to breathe, sides heaving. Look how beautiful it is, the man says, his tone loving. The camera pans along the body, we see the fish’s mouth moving silently. Look at those colours, Green exhorts us.

We can’t help seeing the way it’s gasping desperately for air, and the bloody hole in its side that I could fit a finger through. Green sings the praises of the fish as he slings it, still gasping, into a box with other dead and dying fish. The cameraman moves, to make sure we see it in the box, and the lid closes on the slowly-dying fish. Pan to grinning Robson Green.

Tip: fish will taste better if you kill it immediately, and don’t stress it unnecessarily. It’s already been through being caught. If it’s badly wounded, you have to kill it now.  Otherwise, if it’s just been hooked, put it in water until you’re ready to kill it.

It wasn’t Robson Green’s casual cruelty that did for us. In a different segment, we were treated to the sight of another member of the party, (a self-proclaimed hunter and killer) shooting at a waterfowl (a duck?) with a rifle from thirty feet.

The bird was an easy target, still on the water. The American missed, shot again, winged the bird, and shot again, possibly killing it, but the camera cut away. Too gory even for “Extreme Fishing”? Gawd.

We switched over. You don’t shoot sitting ducks. Birds are shot on the wing, and with a shotgun. For those who don’t know, no sports shooter would ever shoot a bird on the water – aside from being unsporting, you can’t eat anything that’s been shot a rifle, you destroy the meat.

The supposed experts accompanying Mr Green weren’t fishermen or hunters, they were just brutal and sickeningly inefficient killers. Not only that, but the supposed bow-fishing experts didn’t even know basic bow skills: how to draw a bow; or about forearm guards,  so the bowstring won’t snap against your skin.

This isn’t just one woman’s opinion, by the way. Mr Whatsit is a happy hunter (with bow and rifle) and fisherman, but he couldn’t watch it either. “Knock it on the head!” he kept shouting at the tv.

I found the Twitter account of the show @extreme_fishing while this was going on. All the @extreme_fishing tweets and the name are in italics from here on, and my @stinginthetail nick and tweets are in ordinary text.

Note – if the post says stinginthetail @extreme_fishing – it means it’s me, talking to them. I had no idea it was actually Robson Green tweeting. I figured I would phrase it as if i was talking to him, in case they passed it on – and of course, on Twitter, one has only 140 characters to make one’s point…

stinginthetail @extreme_fishing ffs, put the fish down, mate – whack on the head, kill it, don’ t throw live into cooler. Disgusting leaving them to die.

It wasn’t abusive, was it? I did say ffs (for fuck’s sake), but i didn’t call him names. I wanted to make clear that I didn’t mind fishing, but humane kill, please.

The “mate” is an Aussie thing – especially when we’re trying to appeal to the reason of a supposed adult – i didn’t really think about using it, just did. A little bit later – after the duck incident when we turned off for good,  i tweeted again, this time so my followers would see it…

stinginthetail had to switch off @extreme_fishing – letting live fish die slowly – and birds. Partner who is hunter couldn’t watch either. Sickening.

I was surprised the next morning when I received a reply from someone claiming to be Robson Green – i’m still not sure if he read both tweets from me – but according to the tweet stream, the account is managed by the actor himself, not any production company. I didn’t have time to be starstruck…

extreme_fishing @stinginthetail Remember Im observing and not imposing or projecting an opinion. The war in iraq…That’s sickening! Get fucking a life!

This seemed a little over the top, but it occurred to me he hadn’t seen the first tweet, only the second – besides from the number of exclamation marks I guessed i’d caught him at a bad time. So i replied politely, as  some of my best friends have been people where we’ve got off on completely the wrong foot, but being reasonable adults, we’ve found common ground…

stinginthetail @extreme_fishing letting fish die is still sickening – i like fishing, but kill the fish, don’t leave to die. Whack it on the head. Simple.

I was a bit taken aback by his attitude, and figured some of my followers might find the exchange entertaining, so i said…

stinginthetail i’m surprised at the actor Robson Green, didn’t think was rude RT @extreme_fishing The war in iraq…That’s sickening! Get fucking a life!

Provocative? Possibly, but i was being flamed, and i felt like company. Then i read his tweet again, and was struck by something…

stinginthetail @extreme_fishing btw you’re not an observer, yr shooting & hooking then happily throwing in ice chest to die slowly – that’s involved.

I still couldn’t understand why he was so against hitting a fish on the head when he was quite happy to shoot it in the belly. His next reply shed no light but showed the over-punctuation was no fluke…

extreme_fishing @stinginthetail You have a remote control? use it! But thanks for the debate!

Erm – debate involves exchanging opinions, and defending one’s position or point of view.

stinginthetail @extreme_fishing it’s not debate when you can’t justify your cruelty to animals, mate – and thanks, i used the remote last night.

I figured that was it. I was so wrong. That time, i used “mate” a bit snappily, he’d been steadily rude.

extreme_fishing @stinginthetail Would love 2 take you 2 Ginae Bissau Africa so you can impose your uninformed rhetoric to starving children. Im not yr mate

I burst out laughing. This couldn’t be real. Was he taking the piss? Where was Ginae Bissau? Google said i meant Guinea Bissau – one of the poorest countries in Africa. Was it even Robson Green? Had i missed something? Was it a joke profile? I’ve been fooled by those before. However, if it was him…

stinginthetail @extreme_fishing lmao – starving kids, iraq war? are you nuts? what else wld u like to defend yr cruelty with? not as bad as the holocaust?

The reply was educational, as he gave up on some punctuation and took up CAPS….

extreme_fishing @stinginthetail Taking a fish out of its enviroment is like placing a polythene bag over a marathon runners head. You need to STOP fishing!

Huh? Marathon runners, starving children and the war in Iraq? Had he completely confused my tweets with someone else’s? I checked who was tweeting at him. I was pondering again if he thought i was anti-fishing, and if this was all some kind of misunderstanding.

I’m not really into flame wars. If someone’s totally against me and can’t discuss the matter without shouting, what’s the point? I don’t have a penis i need to wave around, so frankly all that wannabe alpha male posturing is a bit pointless.

Yeah, sure, I talk about killing (when i’m premenstrual), but have I ever done it? You’re still alive. See? And if i did kill you, I would make it quick. Though after this, for Mr Green i’m prepared to make an exception.

Still figuring to give him the benefit of the doubt, though not sure why by now. I decided that humane killing was an important concept to grasp, especially for someone whose fishing series is showing all over the world. After all, it’s not like he’s from a country where they have no animal rights. The British care more about animals than they do about children.

Again, as he still showed no sign of actually reading my tweets, I tweeted, repeating what i’d said, so politely it astonishes me when i read it now…

stinginthetail @extreme_fishing before u go completely troppo, you’re missing the point – i am not anti fishing – i suggested you kill after catching.

Ha. What kind of fool am i? It seems there is no such thing as reason where Mr Green is concerned. Though he showed an interest in the etymology of language. This is actually something that fascinates us (me, Her Majesty, and the voices)…

extreme_fishing @stinginthetail No, you are a hypocrit as soon as a fish takes it is in trauma! FACT. SO SURELY THAT’S CRUEL.? Troppo is that Australian?

Takes it? The bait, i assumed. He was over-punctuating bad, and the CAPS were multiplying, never a good sign. Good Lord, what does he think entering an abattoir does to a cow? I’m not a hypocrite over meat – I know it’s not always produced in the most humane ways, but when it’s down to just me, i’ll do my damnedest to be humane.

Weirdly, i didn’t feel like pausing to explain to the joys of ‘English as she is spoke in Orstraylyah’ to my new cobber, but that didn’t stop the tirade….

extreme_fishing @stinginthetail Would love to take you people who dislike the show on my next trip to Japan. That will REALLY float your boat.x

I liked the show – up until he tweeted me, i even liked him. I couldn’t stand the fish and the duck being tortured. (Want to make absolutely clear, it wasn’t Robson Green shooting the duck, or whatever that bird was, it was one of the people he was touting as ‘experts’.)

So he’s looking forward to Japan again so he can be really cruel to animals? Is he going to participate in that annual dolphin massacre? Go whaling? And what was the x on the end? It looked sinister. A kiss? Like the Mafia do? A typo? And “you people”?

If this was a normal person with capitals and lots of punctuation, (and not an actor), what would i do? I replied to the tweet about fish and marathon runners in plastic bags (i was behind by that time) and bowed out…

stinginthetail @extreme_fishing all the more reason to make its end quick? This isn’t debate, this is u shouting inanities. And this is me blocking you.

The question mark was because i was still at that stage trying to decode the tweet,  (or any of them), and was guessing at what he meant. When i went to his profile to block him, he was still going on…

extreme_fishing @stinginthetail It was about fresh fish flesh 4 people who have no fridges. As u know as soon as the fish is killed the meat starts to turn

Erm, what century was he now in? Did he think the South had no electricity? With some trepidation,  a couple of hours later, i looked to see if he’d stopped shouting….

extreme_fishing @stinginthetail Ive just come back from filming Guinae Bissau after supplying a village with fresh fish so they could EAT! You fucking Moron

I’m a fucking moron, because he didn’t read my tweets, was abusive, and committed several crimes against English whilst shouting at me, a total stranger, on Twitter? I suppose it makes perfect sense, if he has a persecution complex. You can see where we’re heading, right? However, thanks so much, Mr Green.

If you’re going to call me a fucking moron in a public forum, then on my blog i could call you a stupid twat, or maybe even a conceited wanker. That seems fair. Nasty little git with a chip on your shoulder and delusions of grandeur?

Still, at least i finally figured out what the “starving kids in Africa” reference was about.

POSSIBLE EXPLANATION:

(of sorts – warning, based on Robson Green’s tweets and the Lolcat Bible in a very vague way – it’s only short, you’ll live through a little lolspeak.)

An actor called Robson Green thinks he’s Bono from U2 Bob Geldof Baby Jebus!

He duz fishez for the multitudes, and they iz tugging forelocks saying, “U gave us fud. We iz your grateful disciples nao, we can haz worship of u, Baby Jebus?”

Even Basement Cat iz impressed, because Jesus Robson Green had totally pwned him. Even when Jesus Robson Green wuz tempted, and offered lobster by Basement Cat, he was like, no want!

Ceiling Cat was all, “Woa, u iz so kewl, mah son. Much respect. Can haz crucifixion!”

Take your hat off, you in the back, show some fucking respect for the Messiah! (Yes, i’m going to stop referring to Ceiling Cat, it’s alright.)

******

Meanwhile, in true Queen of Darkness style, *shines fingernails* I’ve blocked the Messiah on Twitter. A meal for some starving Africans, how sweet of him. He tries so hard. I don’t suppose it occurred to him that they might need feeding more often than when he happens to drop in on a fishing trip.

Poor Jesus always was behind the times. We’re talking about a man whose own father abandoned his mother, then wouldn’t get him a lawyer, so he has major issues. Jesus, of course, not Robson Green. Seriously.

I did some research, and found that Jesus made assertions on UK breakfast tv that “90% of fish caught by coarse anglers in Britain die”, which the coarse anglers are a trifle miffed over (they let their catches go, and if all of the releases died, Britain would literally have no fish at all). Wait, no that was actually Robson Green.

So every angling organisation in the UK (and anywhere else) is probably encouraging its members to boycott his fishing show – the British Angling Trust is. Other folk i saw online had criticised his less-than-humane methods, and of course, he said there were more of ‘you people’.

I’m guessing they don’t know Mr Green is the Messiah, and that not watching the show is like handing your soul over to Satan. Believe in Robson Green, and lo, ye shall be saved… or get a fish dinner.

So i guess i walked into someone else’s argument there.

****

In case you’re reading this, Mr Green, (or your lawyers are) ‘troppo’ is an Australianism and means someone’s gone nuts from some aspect of the tropics: the heat, the cicadas, the rainy season, etc. “He’s gone troppo” would be correct usage. It dates from when Australian troops were fighting in the Pacific during World War Two.

I suppose in your case it might just be the messiah complex making you look as if you’ve gone troppo. When it comes to nailing yourself to the cross – having watched a few people do it – here’s a tip.

Have someone standing by to do the last nail, it’s a bugger. Or course, i’d be happy to lend a hand, one with a hammer in it. Or we could set fire to you, i love the scent of burning martyr.

Come on, it will be fun!

******

In my research, i discovered Jesus Christ’s Robson Green’s middle name is Golightly. Wow, imagine being named after Audrey Hepburn (Holly Golightly in “Breakfast at Tiffany’s”), and growing up in the north of England in the 60’s and 70’s?

******

Oh, in case, in his hysteria, Robson Green thinks i’m serious,
and accuses me of actually making death threats, this note is for the Feds.
It’s a joke. I am not really that interested in the guy.

I just reckon he’s behaved like a twat, and i’m allowed to say so.

© https://stinginthetail.wordpress.com