Never love Mondays
But find them tolerable
When I’m not in work
Never love Mondays
But find them tolerable
When I’m not in work
This year’s holiday
Not the dream destination
Easy journey though
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
Hello people of the blogosphere. I’m back after something of an unplanned hiatus from the world of blogging. I wasn’t sure what to write about for this post – on the one hand my first post in a while ought to be a spectacular affair, both witty and profound, irreverent yet informative, offering reassurances to my regular readers that I’ve not lost any of my trademark humour while ensuring any new readers who happen upon my blog might want to stick around and read more of my ramblings.
On the other hand, sometimes you can put a bit too much pressure on yourself, and when you’re out of practice, sometimes it’s better just to post something – anything – even if it’s a bit rubbish just to ‘get back on the blogging horse’ so to speak.
I’ve got a few posts in the works, some of which will see the light of day on these very pages soon, but for this post I’d thought that the best thing I could do was to address the elephant in the room.
Because it’s not often you see an elephant in your front room. Continue reading The Elephant In The Room
This is the third in my series of missives about how I used to do more stuff than I do right now. This one is about languages. I got quite carried away when I wrote this and even by last week’s standards, (which was a marathon post about marathons) this part was threatening to be too long. So I’ve cleverly split it into two posts, except that, as it was already meant to be the third part of a much longer series, splitting it into two parts and calling them parts 1 and 2 wasn’t going to work. So I’ve adopted the ‘maths textbook’ method of classification and I’m calling this part ‘3a’ and the second part will be ‘3b’. I hope that’s clear enough. I could just learn to self-edit and then I wouldn’t have these problems, but for now this system will have to do.
And so without further ado, let us begin…
In many ways I have all of the hallmarks of a secret agent and international man of mystery.
If nothing else I have the correct initials. For, and this may come as something of a surprise to long-time readers, my name is not James Proclaims. That is a pseudonym I use for the purposes of sharing my inconsequential ideas, meaningless meanderings and witless witterings with the literally tens of readers who visit this blog on a daily basis.
Indeed, my first name isn’t actually James. But lest you abandon this blog in disgust at my fraudulent forename, I should point out that ‘James’ does appear on my birth certificate as my given middle name. And, perhaps more pertinently, ‘James’ is the name most people call me. So it really is my name to all intents and purposes.
But I do have a different legal first name that I never use. It is a name of Indian origin. That fact is possibly pertinent to this post, but more of it later. Its only relevance now is that, like ‘James’ it begins with a ‘J’. And my actual surname begins with a ‘B’.
So my initials are JB. Well JJB if we’re going to be pedantic.
But much as I enjoy a bit of pedantry, now is not the time.
So we’ll dispense with the middle initial and state that my initials are JB.
And, in the world of fictitious spies, having the initials ‘JB’ is qualification enough to join the club.
A club which includes luminaries such as James Bond, Jason Bourne and Jack Bauer.
Need I go on?
Obviously I can’t actually go on, those three are all I can think of. Continue reading Stuff I Used To Do But Don’t Do Anymore (Or How I’ve Become A Less Interesting Person Over Time): Part 3a: A Prevarication On Polyglotism
Regular readers of this blog will know that I rarely write about work.
This is for a number of reasons, not least of which is that this blog is very much my escape from the daily grind so to dwell on the quotidian minutiae of my profession would seem to be in direct contradiction of that sentiment.
Also it might be a tad unprofessional, given that much of my job entails working with some fairly dysfunctional young people. It’s not that that doesn’t generate some amusing tales, quite the contrary, but to share those tales outside of the confidences of a few, well-chosen, colleagues might not be a brilliant long-term strategy for career enhancement.
Obviously I fully intend to give up my day job as soon my talents as a writer, comedian and all round entertainer are recognised by the popular media, but as yet such acknowledgment has yet to present itself in the form of a jaw-dropping book deal worth an obscene amount of money, or the chance to write, direct and indeed star in my own artistically-credible-yet-accessible-to-the masses sit-com.
This could be down to a lack of effort on my part to make such dreams a reality.
Or it could be a lack of talent.
It’s probably both. Continue reading James Complains About The Bag Of Shame
It’s a popular maxim that ‘the best things in life are free’.
I’m less than convinced that’s the case.
I’m not sure that there’s much at all in life that’s actually free, let alone the best things.
In fact, so convinced am I that the best things in life aren’t free, that I actually did a bit of research prior to writing this particular diatribe.
Not too much research obviously, I wouldn’t want my usual ill-informed and meaningless stream of consciousness to be overly influenced by ‘facts’. Continue reading James Complains About Free Stuff
A few days ago Mrs Proclaims and I returned from our summer holiday. On the whole it was a thoroughly pleasant city break that was, at times, charming, fun and intellectually stimulating.
Generally I enjoy most holidays and few things give me and my beloved more pleasure than poring over our old holiday photos and reminiscing. Our latest voyage has certainly contributed to the back catalogue of shared and cherished memories.
It has, alas, also served as reminder that holidays are fantastic things to look forward to, and great things to look back on, but the actual ‘live experience’ can be more than a little challenging, regardless of destination. Indeed some aspects of a holiday can be something of an ordeal. I often find that being a tourist makes me tolerate things that would, under any other circumstances, leave me more than a little perplexed. Continue reading James Complains About Holidays