November 28, 2003
Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaargh!
The whole of my front bomb went down on me.
Had a face to face with my publisher, which was smelly. He smokes like it’s still the Seventies.
Everyone messes up. He said. Just look at Marilyn Monroe.
I know what you mean I said.
No, just look at her he said producing a life sized dummy of the actress complete with red lips and a moving mouth.
I had to get away.
It’s sunny in London.
November 26, 2003
Acid rain is like acid jazz.
Shit.
November 25, 2003
A month until Christmas!
The Snooks are going away so I’ll have the house to myself!!
Can’t wait until the Radio Times comes out to see what’s on telly.
Bought myself an advent calendar today.
November 24, 2003
I love Rugby now!
The England won a great match of ball against the Australians.
It’s not easy to go down under and come back with a smile on your face.
Spoke to my journo friend Nick who writes for the New Cambridge World in Sydney whose been emailing me to say that England would definitely not win. I think he was a bit upset that they did win.
He said England were boring, and they definitely wouldn’t win the next one and that anyway football was the national game. A sport, he added with a sneer, which is in disgrace and in the headlines for all the wrong reasons.
He is currently writing an article called Wrong Reasons which is all about dirty footballers. Or something.
I don’t know anything about sport.
I’ve been asked to go on The Game*. Should I say yes?
* A new Sky Sports Rugby show.
November 21, 2003
Have spent most of the day staring out of the window in my study.
It's a good window, quite high up. At weekends I can see the police helicopter hovering above Camden. Now and again it will shoot up and go over to Kings Cross. Mostly people do the opposite, that's why they need a police helicopter. Its an irony I've often pondered upon staring out of my window.
The kids at 23 have been noisy all day, occaisionally their fat mother comes and shouts as well. The woman at 19 has got new net curtains. I think she thinks I might be a staring mental!
I like to lose my thoughts amongst the leaves tossing and playing in the wind. Autumn is such a melancholy time when you're in love.
"You must be the mermaid
who took Neptune for a ride.'
But she smiled at me so sadly
that my anger straightway died"
November 20, 2003
They say in cold weather you should dress like an onion.
So I wore my smelliest clothes and whenever people came near me they started crying.
I was on the Stop the War protest.
I’m going again today to spend seven hours shouting at policemen. That’ll show them!
November 18, 2003
Isn’t it nice in bed?
The cold fridge of the world’s air kept at bay by the battened down roll of thick duvet suffused with hot air.
Woke up sweating again.
Spent the day working on an article for ‘The Head’ magazine about teacher training in Science. It's called 'Lab Year'.
My fingers are sore now.
November 17, 2003
"I'm against Bush...
I can feel it digging in to me as I wait in the darkest recess of her garden waiting to deliver a confidential message. It's privet. I'm dying to go up there and pop it in her slot but I don't want to get caught by the Rhododendrons. I'm hedging my bets."
That's what was running through my mind as I neared the conclusion of my vigil squatting down outside Miss -------'s house. Crouch End.
I posted a clean invite through the door myself. I don't trust the post office, they're always losing my correspondence to people like Miss -------. The Guardian. Evening Standard. Everyone.
As I was leaving I had to dive into a mound of filthy sacks, she was coming down the road. A man had his arm around her shoulders. She has pretty shoulders.
I confess that I panicked and my first thought was that she had forsaken me but then I realised that I was just beating off on myself.
I now know that I was silly not to realise that he was a plain clothed policeman escorting her home after she had become upset at a sad film in the way that women do. It was obvious. He had short hair.
God bless the police, they've always been very fair with me.
November 14, 2003
So that’s what happened.
After two weeks of waiting the card is returned to me. In fat streaks of ugly ink raped across the card someone has written:
“Miss --------- don’t live here. Return it back!”
I turn it over and on the reverse someone has crudely stamped “BT Tower”
At least she wasn’t ignoring me! She never received my letter at all!
I smell a whole new glistening opening!
It’ll be dark in a couple of hours.
November 13, 2003
Sorry dear readers!
Have spent the past 48 hours in the British Library boning up on Front Bomb.
I staggered out for a coffee break early this morning and dropped my books all over the lawn. There was Dewey on the grass.
Had trouble getting back in to the flat; the Snooks had changed all the locks!
Need to wash my bits now.
November 11, 2003
The new Richard Curtis film is out soon. I haven’t seen it but it’s totally rubbish. He just keeps making the same film over and over again. Apart from Bean and that was rubbish because it was different.
Why can’t he have the career that I want for him and not make films that millions and millions of people worldwide want to see and will be watched long after me and my great grandchildren are dead? It’s so selfish of him.
The most annoying thing is that he seems to think he knows more about writing films than I do, I am after all a professional journalist.
She still hasn’t answered my invite.
The Snooks returned today all sunburnt and arguing.
Had a little cry this morning.
November 10, 2003
I got the photos developed.
I picked them up an hour ago from Red Light Processing on Hampstead Heath. The man stared at me strangely as he handed over the yellow pouch.
It’s taken a while, I said, trying to make small talk.
Sometimes they do! He said, eyes bulging. I do it in the night he continued, pursing his lips, his eyes bulging more than ever. Then his pupils started wandering.
I’ll let you get on with the class, I said, beating a hasty retreat.
When I got home I tore open the pouch and whipped out the brand new photographs.
I’m a journalist not a photographer and some of them are close ups of grey, but there is one fuzzy shot of a window frame and a streak of colour. It’s her.
I’ve popped it in a frame.
Oh write to me Mrs --------
November 07, 2003
Royal Blew.
Prince Charles of Wales has been the subject of scandalous rumour-monging today. Dirty rats and chatter bums have been speculating about his Royal Highness who has apparently been blown away by the allegations.
Stop this at once!
How dare people devote pages and pages of column inches to discussing the privates of the Prince!
And the very people who claim to be outraged are the very people who are perpetuating this story by giving it the oxygen of media time and space!
It’s an outrage!
The BEST thing we can all do is not to go talking about it.
And so what if Prince Charles WAS sucked off by one of his servants. Who *cares*?
(© Jonthan Glasgow 2003)
Finally started feeling my self again – thanks for the get well messages Amanda and Ed they made me smile on the other side of myself.
Have a great weekend friends.
JG
November 06, 2003
I think it was Benjamin Disraeli who said, “Health is the first essential”.
Squatting on the loo with a bowl on my lap as I blew chunks out of both ends, I couldn’t help agreeing with him.
My eyes are all foamy.
I think I’ve drunk too much Lucozade. What is Lucoz anyway?
November 05, 2003
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NOTE FROM NICEMUM WEBMASTER
Jonathan is still suffering as a result of his Slazenger induced gastric problems. However he has asked that we thank you on his behalf for all your messages of support and he has commented that "Life's funny isn't it?".
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November 04, 2003
It started with some strange white powder.
I was tidying my wooden desk this morning and when to my horror I found deposits of a curious white powder speckled all over my keyboard and more collected in between the Buff Foolscaps and my Trodat Printy Dater.
It was like it had somehow been snowing in my study and the snow had only settled on the desk and not the carpet or bookshelf (if you get my drift).
I decided to taste some to see if it was illegal drugs. It tasted tangy and like my deodorant. It was my deodorant.
What had happened was that a can of Slazenger had rusted up and in the night the guts fizzed out.
I read the can to check that it wasn’t poisonous or anything!
It was poisonous. I’ve been making myself sick. I’ve brung up half a lion bar and some porridge so far. Not sure where the eggs are.
Oh Miss -------- !
I’m glad you can’t see me now.
As Boris Becker would say "Augenblick, verweile doch..."
November 03, 2003
Weekends can seem cold and empty can’t they.
Had potatoes and watched Carry On Screaming.
Will I ever hear from you Miss ------?
Phoned the Guardian and my feature article was rejected on the grounds that it was too polemic for their newspaper! I didn’t write it in columns!
Managed to salvage the garden; the tulips are growing like mental.
November 01, 2003
The b*ggers poohed in my garden!!
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