Friday Has Got the Doilies Out
Yes, the whole family is currently here at Toad Hall, inspecting the place and making sure that we are running our relationship in a satisfactory manner. I have had advice on everything from which chores to do in order to make Mrs. Toad happy when she gets back from God Bless America (about an hour ago) to how to order my working day now I am a gentleman of leisure. Oh what jolly fun it’s been.
Mrs. Toad got back to a demand from a debt collection agency for the sum of forty pounds, which included the statement “this amount includes an adminisration fee of forty pounds”. What a great business to be in! You send people letters claiming that the very act of sending them a letter obliges them to reimburse you for sending it. I am in the wrong fucking business.
I sat and played my folks some old Smithsonian Folkways stuff the other night actually, which was rather fun. I played them some Sam Amidon as well, and some Alela Diane and some Jackson C. Frank and some stuff from the gorgeous FOUND Toad Session. I am not sure that being sat down and told to listen to a series of songs I am convinced they Must Like is quite what they came here for, but hey. If they’re going to lecture me about domestic duties, I am going to force them to listen to music all night.
And once again it is Friday, de-lurking day and King’s Wark for our tea day, so all is well with the universe. Oh, and Mrs. Toad is home as well, which is very good news. I do miss the bad tempered old bag when she goes away. So please come out of hiding and answer five silly questions before wasting the rest of your Friday afternoon talking shit, when you really should be at work being productive.
1. Biggest pretence about your life you still maintain in front of your folks.
2. Most unreasonable thing you make them tolerate when they visit you.
3. Time before the novelty wears off.
4. Most preposterous debt collection conversation you’ve had.
5. Who do you write like?
Five songs from when I lived at home:
Kim Carnes – Mistaken Identity
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Alison Moyet – Love Resurrection
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Cyndi Lauper – Time After Time
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1. Recycling. We’re absolutely shit at it, but we still pretend in front of my folks.
2. Constant music naziism.
3. Four days.
4. I got a demand for £10.26 once. When you think of all the money and admin that went into demanding this, demanding that, sending it off to the collection company, posting me threatening letters and so on it just beggars belief. The threat to come round my house and recover the debt was hilarious. What were they going to do, nick a couple of CDs and sell them second hand? Would that have even covered the cost of petrol to drive round the house in the first place?
5. Isaac Asimov, apparently. I think that’s kind of a good thing. Sort of.
1. I live near my folks and we’re all pretty open with each other and get along really well, so no pretence. What you see is what you get etc.
2. I see them all the time, so I don’t think of them as ‘visiting’ me and I can’t think of anything unreasonable… very boring, sorry.
3. Ha! There is no novelty really… but I still like seeing them.
4. Received a letter from my bank once because my account was overdrawn… by 3 cents.
5. David Foster Wallace, apparently. I thought this was alright… until I read he killed himself. The post I’d entered was one where I mentioned the word ‘sadness’ a couple of times…so naturally that makes me a manic depressive suicide risk.
I tried it again, using a post that included the words ‘cool’ and ‘scary’ and ‘beautiful’ and this time it said I wrote like Dan Brown.
I think I prefer the first option.
1. Biggest pretence about your life you still maintain in front of your folks.
That I have never ever taken drugs.
2. Most unreasonable thing you make them tolerate when they visit you.
I tend to visit them more often – and I have Sky Sports News on as much as possible, whether at my Dad’s or my Mum’s. Well, that’s what they get for having Freeview/Sky and hating all over sport.
3. Time before the novelty wears off.
The novelty never wears off. Ever.
4. Most preposterous debt collection conversation you’ve had.
On the telephone:
Debt Collector: “Hi there, is that Mister Phillip Kwee-ree?”
Me: “No, I’m sorry, my name is Mister Phillip Kwi-ree. You must have the wrong number. Bye.”
[I hang up and don't pick up their follow up call]
5. Who do you write like?
I transcribed this review I wrote:
http://www.isthismusic.com/mary-hamptonthirty-pounds-of-bonethe-rg-morrison
And my result?
H. P. Lovecraft.
1. Biggest pretence about your life you still maintain in front of your folks.
That the cacti I grow in my room are not Peyote.
2. Most unreasonable thing you make them tolerate when they visit you.
Well, I’m staying with them over the summer. I am usually naked, I get my mum to buy me beer and the random girl handcuffed to the bed always goes down a storm.
3. Time before the novelty wears off.
It is always wearing thin. Especially how my mum systematically destroys my self-confidence and shoots down all the things I like. MUMS ARE GREAT! My dad is a top lad, he indulges me in all the daft stuff I do. So the novelty is great there.
4. Most preposterous debt collection conversation you’ve had.
I don’t get myself into debt. I don’t even take out a student loan! I did once tell some guy who lives off benefits due to having tourettes that he wass a fucking joke and demanded he bought me a drink. That counts.
5. Who do you write like?
David Foster Wallace. Ooooh, I actually quite like Infinite Jest. He killed himself though. Didn’t he? Ach shit.
1. Biggest pretence about your life you still maintain in front of your folks.
Umm…. caring for my child? haha not really. Not swearing in front of my mum cos she fucking hates it.
2. Most unreasonable thing you make them tolerate when they visit you.
Probably constantly asking for money. My dad gets me back by behaving like a spoilt child at least once while he’s here. We once, no lie, had a massive argument over a sandwich.
3. Time before the novelty wears off.
3/4 days. My mum and dad wind each other up too, which doesn’t help.
4. Most preposterous debt collection conversation you’ve had.
I tried to get out of a really shocking Orange phone contract once. I did this by simply throwing the phone away, moving house, and not paying any of the bills I owed. Somehow they tracked my down (?!?) and I seem to remember putting on a terrible accent (as if this would have helped) and pretending not to be me. Still had to the fuckers though.
5. Who do you write like?
James Joyce, apparently. Awesome.
ach, that was supposed to say ‘pay the fuckers though’… nevermind.
I like Phil’s response? ‘Who me? No, never heard of the fellow, what a silly name.’
Ian – just been listening to you on the latest Podcart. You numpty.
Agnes – Dan Brown? Poor you.
I resent that numpty comment!
*throws glove at Matthew*
I know, right? Am quite insulted, actually.
Could have been worse – could have been Nick Hornby.
I wonder if you copied in a bit of prose from an actual author if it would say they sounded like themselves or someone else.
1. That I only go to the pub on weekends.
2. Usually attending some alternative leftfield arts event or other.
3. For them or me? Not long in either case.
4. I once had a huge, drawn out argument with O2 about £150 of data charges I had accrued because they’d supplied me with a phone with push email switched on. They seemed to struggle with the fact that I simply was not going to pay it. I carried on paying the normal monthly contract amount and they would cut me off and phone me to say I still had £150 outstanding. I would tell them to read the previous call notes on the account and they would apologise and reconnect me. Then the same merry-go-round would crop up the following month. This went on for about eight months I think.
5. Margaret Atwood.
1. Biggest pretence about your life you still maintain in front of your folks.
That I wasn’t pissed when I fell off the roof of a tile shop on Leith Walk last summer, breaking both my heels and my left ankle, but was merely ‘fetching a ball’.
2. Most unreasonable thing you make them tolerate when they visit you.
Me drinking copious amounts of wine before the main course has arrived, then sending the steak back when it isn’t cooked exactly the way I like it. I often send the wine back, saying “no, it’s not corked, it’s just shite. I wouldn’t put this on my chips”.
3. Time before the novelty wears off.
With my mum, ages. With my old man, about 20 seconds as his arrival is always greeted with some form of complaint about my directions/the traffic/the weather – all of which are my fault.
4. Most preposterous debt collection conversation you’ve had.
I once got an amazing bank charge – I only had my card on my when buying stuff for a special dinner. I forgot to buy a courgette – an essential ingredient – so went back and put it on a card. Turns out this put me into the red and thus gained me a nice bank charge. The courgette may be the most expensive ever, at a cost of £35.45.
5. Who do you write like?
I put in a paragraph from my dissertation and got Isaac Asimov, which is worrying as it is actually about music journalism.
Ha!
Well it had to be done didn’t it…
Put in an excerpt from Dan Brown’s ‘The Lost Symbol’.
The result: James Joyce.
1. That I do not put every penny I have into music. I lie and say it is paying off my student loan.
2. My blackberry. It is like an Ann Summer’s black mamba. It constantly is vibrating and flashing. It has been banned from dinner and from all conversational based activities.
3. 24 hours….however, why the fuck does my mother start doing my washing as soon as she has entered my flat? What actually the fuck is that about?
4. Hi this is your student loans company and we would like you to pay £500 pounds a month.
5. An emotional, pre-menstrual, niave music fan.
Somebody make a joke about the vibrating and flashing that Halina mentioned please.
1. Biggest pretence about your life you still maintain in front of your folks.
That I have never cheated on any of my ex-girlfriends.
My mum constantly says to Ella “That’s one thing you can say about Scott – he’s never cheated on a girl and never would.”
2. Most unreasonable thing you make them tolerate when they visit you.
Playing the guitar whilst they’re trying to talk me about ‘sorting my life out’.
3. Time before the novelty wears off.
Never
4. Most preposterous debt collection conversation you’ve had.
Never had one. I ignore the fuckers whenever they call.
5. Who do you write like?
Dylan Matthews aka Margaret Atwood
Agnes, if that fucking thing thinks Dan Brown writes like James Joyce, I am kind of offended to only get Isaac fucking Asimov. Surely William Shakespeare would be more appropriate.
Mule, I hope you especially enjoyed that courgette.
Mule, I hope you especially enjoyed that courgette.
I bet you say that to all the boys, Matthew.
Ha! I know. I’d been so convinced as to its scientific accuracy as well. Shattered.
1. That being a painter and a musician is the right way to live my life and that one day it will pay off and we will all be happy and I will be able to look after them in their old age. I’ve been saying that for 12 years.
2. They don’t visit me, because I live with them. And I blame you all for this.
3. You would need to blow the dust off it.
4. In my first flat with the collectors at my door. In only underpants, with pneumonia. weeping.
5. Edgar Allan Poe apparently.
I’d rather pick up on the irony displayed in her spelling of “naive”.
Remember kids, it’s like “Evian” spelled backwards.
Sorry, Hally. You know I love you really. Not enough to make me want to cause your little black toy to vibrate and flash, though. That has to be reserved for a special friend.
1. That I’m actually listening.
2. I haven’t ‘left the nest’. Yet. I should probably start thinking about what I’m going to do with respect to this.
3. See above.
4. My brother insisted I owed him a Creme Egg McFlurry, because he seemed to think I stole his the year before.
5. I write like JD Salinger. In yer face.
I told them they should really be at home with some trousers on.
Phillip – I am happy you have a special friend. I hope they are real
1. That dropping out of uni was the right thing to do and that it’s all about to come good…any minute now.
2. Thankfully they never stay with me so it’s all meals out and see you laters. Having said that, I’ve subjected them to some pretty monumental hangover nonsense.
3. A day or two.
4. Not sure really, I landed up paying hundreds of pounds the day I moved in to a flat because the people who were already there were incompetent and the boy was coming to put in one of those silly token meter things.
5. David Foster Wallace (it’s bad I don’t know who this is, right?)
Aaaaaaannny minute now…
…tick tock tick tock…
…yep, soon. Real soon.
1. That I know what I’m doing.
2. They’ve visited me once in the three years I’ve been in Edinburgh, and the only thing they’ve had to tolerate is Arthur’s seat.
3. 2 days (if sister present as well, 6 hours)
4. I’m still a student, and all you tax payers are paying for my PhD…
5. Isaac Asimov- not surprising given the last thing I wrote was a paper about parasitology- though worrying that Matt got the same result for what was presumably a blog post about his folks visiting.
1. There’s no pretence going on.
2. I mainly visit them. And then I tend to pay more attention to the cats.
3. My parents don’t live that far off, so I see them quite often.
4. I think I never really had one. I’m really boring.
5. English is not my native language, so I didn’t have that many texts in English at hand. Thus I tried the last three e-mails I wrote to somebody in English, which got me three different results: Oscar Wilde, Robert Louis Stevenson and James Joyce. Not too bad.
1. Biggest pretence about your life you still maintain in front of your folks.
That my education wasn’t a complete waste of their money.
2. Most unreasonable thing you make them tolerate when they visit you.
Not having any Kit Kats.
3. Time before the novelty wears off.
The time it takes for the to drive up from Gala?
4. Most preposterous debt collection conversation you’ve had.
The usual: “this person doesn’t live here”, “are you sure?”, “well no actually, I have no idea who else lives in this one bedroom flat, it could be anyone.”
5. Who do you write like?
Hunter Thompson, but only because I refuse to re-write or edit anything. It’s not so much a stylistic choice as a lazy one. Less gonzo, more yawn-zo (sorry, refused to edit that pun).
1. That I am in some kind of position of authority at work
2. Our plumbing
3. About a day
4. something to do with BT
5. work – Arthur C Clarke!
play – Stephen King!!
1. My degree will get me a good job when the economy settles
2. I’m back with them right now, but I’d generally say any time I get the last train back from Glasgow after a boozy night tests their patience
3. I’m pretty sure it wore off when they picked me up at the airport a year ago. I know this as the old man gave me the ‘sort your life out’ chat/bollocking by the time we had hit the Erskine Bridge. Hadn’t even opened my irn bru.
4. Probably with my mum about why I needed to borrow money as I sat playing online poker. The two were unrelated btw.
5. A GCSE student probably, but maybe hitting the advanced higher heights on a good day.
1. That all those nights I don’t come home are spent sleeping on my pal’s couch, and that I don’t swear.
2. Sadly I live with them, so they have to tolerate me.
3. It wore off some time ago, I just can’t afford to move out.
4. I went through an ill judged period of ignoring all my bills, reminder letters and badgering phonecalls for a while (the answer to question 3 is not entirely unrelated to this). Eventually one of them caught up with me and told me that after interest and various non payment fees I owed them Four Grand. My repsonse was to declare “fuck off!”. Oddly after that they negotiated my debt down considerably, presumably realising that I had nothing worse reposessing and they’d be better off getting something than nothing.
5. Using the Douglas Firs bit I wrote the other day, I write like Margaret Atwood. I have no idea who that is, but it is nice to know that I write like a girl.
1. That having absolutely no financial security isn’t a constant terror.
2. My inability to tolerate sniffing.
3. I managed three months when writing up my PhD. It felt like enough after three days, but then eased into actually manageable by the end.
4. None! The best debt related conversation was when Dad retired, rejigged his savings and decided I could owe him my student loan instead of the Student Loans Company. Amazing. Maybe he’ll turn into a nasty loan shark when he gets old and cranky.
5. David Foster Wallace at play, Asimov and Vladimir Nabokov for the thesis. They actually only have about 6 authors in their DB, don’t they?
That’s the first Nabokov I’ve seen, and I’ve got it running on my Facebook status too.
Someone got Douglas Adams over there. Bastard.
Douglas Adams? The fuckers, now I’m envious.
My trainind diary gets Douglas Adams. I’m not a fan though personally, he annoys the hell out of me. I was writing a particularly obnoxious entry about rubbish weight lifters hogging platforms though.
Were they triple-breasted weight lifters spending a year dead for tax reasons?
He can be rather annoying, that’s for sure, but absolutely brilliant the rest of the time.
Nick Hornby though, eh? Nick fucking Hornby.
1. That I drink and swear a lot less than I do, I come from a family of pretty strict teetotalers.
2. They don’t really visit me, the worst thing they inflict on me when I visit however is the playing of boardgames. The rules must be followed at all times and being four is not an excuse.
3. If my dads in a bad mood then it’s pretty much instant, my mum tends to have a longer shelf life.
4. I paid with something costing £5 on a credit card and forgot about it, they never got in touch until they decided years later that they’d like £400 from me.
The really annoying thing was that they wouldn’t tell me details of the debt as my date of birth didn’t correspond to their records “sorry we can’t divulge that information as your date of birth is wrong”, “well if you don’t tell me than I’m not going to pay and I can assure you that my date of birth is right”… knobs.
5. Raymond Chandler though it’s probably more like Jenny Colgan.
1) That I’m actually a nicer person than my brother.
2) My brother.
3) About a week.
4) I got sent to a collection agency because a number of people kept taking money out of my account after I left England. I ended up owing a phone company a lot of money. They basically threatened to repossess my Grandads house and contents…
5.J.P. Lovecraft. Sci-fi and wierd sci-fi. That’s actually pretty apt. Actually.
I tried 5. again and got Chuck Palahniuk. Hot.
1. Usually it involves not telling them about the things that happen to me late at night on the subway.
2. New York City subways/the colorful people who inhabit them. Also, making them try weird and exotic cuisine like Greek or Vietnamese food.
3. Three days.
4. Dealing with the sister who tends to get rather annoyed when I mention that it’s her turn to buy dinner.
5. I’ve gotten Ursula Le Guin, Stephen King, William Gibson, and David Foster Wallace.
i seem to have missed the point of 5. I got David Foster Wallace
Fairly late on the responses, but I’ve been away (with the parents no less)
1. Biggest pretence about your life you still maintain in front of your folks.
That I don’t drink as much I do, never done drugs, don’t have one nights stands, the list can go on and on, and is basically summed up in saying that I’m a good little girl when I’ve been off living my life as I please.
2. Most unreasonable thing you make them tolerate when they visit you.
When I did have a place, it was the intolerable squalor. A ratty futon was all I had to offer for accommodations as it was broke student living.
3. Time before the novelty wears off.
It seems to be getting better with each year. I’ve been living with them for a month now and we’ve not tried to kill each other
4. Most preposterous debt collection conversation you’ve had.
I received an invoice from my University, from which I had graduated and moved to a foreign country for 43 fucking cents. That’s right and those $0.43 had to be paid in person.
5. Who do you write like?
Neil Gaiman! That makes me beyond happy!