“Just one more,” is my mantra
As I near my breaking point
Just one more and I can rest
And ease my creaking joints
Breathless, broken, sweating
An hour of constant pain
At the end of which I wonder
What exactly do I gain?
The answer comes soon after
I pick myself up off the floor
And crack open the biscuit tin
When it’s never ‘just one more’…
I’m in work as I write this.
Which might seem a bit naughty, because one should never use work time for blogging and I absolutely never would. It’s not ok to blog during work time.
The above paragraph was written on the basis that although there’s no chance my boss ever reads my blog, if she actually were to read it, I’m fairly sure she wouldn’t get past the first few sentences. Much like when she reads my emails. If she does indeed read them. Which doesn’t always appear to be the case.
Although I don’t make a habit of blogging in work time, my moral stance on blogging during work time is perhaps more liberal than the stance I took a mere 2 paragraphs ago. Frankly if my employer thinks it’s ok to expect me to complete paperwork in my own time then surely it’s ok to blog during work time.
But actually I don’t tend to blog during work time very often. Continue reading Even I Don’t Know What This Post Is About And I Wrote It
It’s Friday, which is the day that, when I can be bothered, I post something that I claim is art, even though it really isn’t.
Even accepting the notion that art is in the eye of the beholder, and that anything can therefore qualify as art, it would be a stretch to claim I’ve actually achieved anything remotely artistic with my ‘Artist’s Corner’ feature.
But today that’s about to change because, ladies and gentlemen of the blogosphere, I give you this masterpiece:
Now you might claim that all I’ve done here is rip the label off a tin of tomatoes and replaced it with a white self adhesive label onto which I’ve written the word worms.
And you’d be right, that is all I’ve done.
It isn’t an actual can of worms and not even a particularly gullible small child would fall for it. Mrs Proclaims was, nonetheless, a tad apprehensive when I opened the above can earlier this week to make a sea food pasta dish. She ate it but she did eye the squid with a little more suspicion than usual.
But it is art nonetheless, because my ‘can of worms’ is representative of all of the metaphorical ‘cans of worms’ being opened at the moment, all over the world (but often by one man in particular…).
When you think about it I’ve been very very clever here.
Probably the most clever of all the artists.
Oh hallowed throne of relaxation
I sit here in shallow content
Though there may be some procrastination
That wasn’t my intent
For while I may have much to do
Tasks I should complete
I shall not achieve much today
For I’m only on episode two
Of a boxset that is quite a treat
So on the sofa I shall stay
Ok, it’s been a while since I did a ‘James Complains’, so just a reminder that nothing here is to be taken too seriously. There are bigger problems in the world than my relationship with plumbers.
And if you are a plumber reading this, then please be aware that I am very much against the notion of tarring everyone who does a particular job with the same brush.
I’m sure there are some excellent plumbers out there and I’m sure they are professional and courteous and do a fine job to boot.
In fact the plumber that came to my house today could be described as a genuinely lovely bloke.
And he knew his way around the old pipework.
And he left us with working taps in both the kitchen and the bathroom and that is to be commended, for that was not previously the case. Continue reading James Complains About Plumbers
Welcome to another ‘Artist’s Corner’, the regular feature on my blog, which imaginary critics are calling “absolutely pointless” and “the worst thing I’ve ever seen on any blog ever”.
Some pretty hurtful imaginary comments there but regardless I press on with my poor attempts at art.
Normally I’d unveil a fairly rubbish drawing at this point but this week I decided to use the camera bit on my phone to create some ‘concept’ art.
Actually there’ll be a few of these coming up in the next few weeks – I did get a little ‘snap-happy’ once I started.
To begin with though I drew a face on an egg. Hence the ‘egg-based’ puns which featured heavily in the title to this post but have been strangely absent in the post itself.
I expect there’ll be some in the comments though – and yes dear readers that is an invitation to make some egg-based puns in the comments. I’ll be disappointed if there aren’t any now.
Also, if you’re in the mood, you can come up with a name for my little friend.
But not Eggy McEggface.
I think we’re all better than that.
And also it’s probably best to not get too attached – the morning after I took that photo he made a rather delicious omelette.
If the grass is always greener on the other side of the fence
Perhaps that means it rains more on that side
Which may not be a bad thing
If greener grass is worth a little extra rain
Although it seems unlikely
That it would rain more
On the other side of the fence
Because weather isn’t generally that different
On two sides of the same fence
That generally isn’t how weather works Continue reading The Grass Is Always Greener
For the sake of context I should point out that I wrote this a week and half ago when I was still very much on holiday in the Lake District. I’m not any more. It doesn’t really matter but I don’t want anyone reading this to feel mislead.
Because I care.
That’s just the kind of person I am.
Anyway, without further ado, here is my account of my holiday in the Lake District:
As I write this I’m warming myself by the fireplace.
Which is unusual.
Because, while there notionally is a fireplace in my small Victorian terraced house in Reading, it is not something Mrs Proclaims and I ever use, for all kinds of practical reasons.
However, even if we did avail ourselves of the facility in question, it would not be usual recourse for us to do so in the height of the British summer.
Which is, supposedly, happening at the moment. Continue reading A Lacustrine Staycation
The number ’99’ is surprisingly ubiquitous. One shy of the more well-rounded ‘100’, ’99’ could well have been lost in the shadows of its more illustrious neighbour. After-all ‘100’ is a power of ten, that most noble of numeric families upon which the decimal system is entirely dependent. Our understanding of currency, measurements (presuming one uses the more sensible metric system over the perplexingly inconsistent imperial system) and even, to a certain extent, time (ok not really – seconds, minute, hours, days, weeks, months and years have little to do with decimalisation but when we get to the big measurements – decades, centuries and millennia – my point (sort of) stands) is all dependent on powers of ten.
For ’99’ to have carved out not one, but several identities, against that back drop, is pretty impressive. Ok there are occasions when the success of ’99’ is linked to its proximity to 100 – how many times are items priced at 99p, or £1.99, £2.99 (feel free to insert your own currency here if you don’t regularly use the rapidly diminishing pound as your money of choice) to create the illusion they’re cheaper than they really are (I’m not paying £3 for that mug when I can get this one for £2.99)? Continue reading 99
This is a great poem
With good words
The best words
It’s a great, great poem
And together we’re going to make poetry great again
I can tell you
The press will tell you it’s not a great poem
What do the press know about poetry?
I know about poems
I know about poetry
And this is a very great poem
The best poem
The best of all poems
But I have more words
Words our poetry richly deserves
And I promise you now
That the words I will use
Will be very
They will be the right words
To make the very best poetry
In the history…
To eliminate bad poetry
Because we deserve
And we cannot allow bad poetry
We must take steps
To demolish and destroy
And bad poets
They are the worst
They are losers
And we must eliminate them
And defend our right
To have the poetry
We all deserve
The very best poetry
Poems like this one
Which are very very good
And not at all bad
As some people would have you believe
Those people are wrong
They are liars
This is a great, great poem
The kind of poetry we deserve
All of us
You’d better believe it
And we will make poetry great again
It’s going to be beautiful