Archives for September, 2006

Brussels author’s sexcapades revealed

For the first and last time, I’ve got the painters in. The stress is palpable. Girls, I feel your pain.

Speaking of pain, I put my back out at the weekend shifting sixty-odd boxes up and down the street “to save the removals men the trouble”. Tsk. Thankfully the Chelsea Tractor (which still doesn’t fit in the garage) is a beast and stood up to the task.

I’ve been getting a bit of grief for being an urban 4×4 owner. I say stop beefing. I only use it to go to the shops. Not much environmentally unfriendly about that.

Mrs K turns thirty on Friday. We’re going to New York to celebrate. Unlike The Author, who got lucky, I’m not sure I’ll have my stay catalogued in any glossy magazines …

In other news, since the untimely demise of The Sprout, to which yours truly occasionally contributed, I’ve noticed this little blog has sprung up. Could it be the same people? Made me laugh anyway …

09/25/2006 | Omphaloskepsis | No Comments

How not to invest your money

I bumped up my new mortgage by investing in a parking space.

There are fifty parking spaces in the garage.

Only one has a low ceiling. Not very low, just not high enough for, say, a big car.

There are fifty cars to go in those spaces. Only one is too big for the one space with a low ceiling.

There is, therefore, a one in 2500 chance that our car wouldn’t fit in the space.

And guess what?

There goes 25000 euros.

09/21/2006 | Belgium, Omphaloskepsis | No Comments

Last will and testament

Tomorrow we should get the keys to our new house.

This has prompted my mother to insist that I write a will, in case “any distant relatives try to make claims on my estate”.

I suppose it’s a little more optimistic than my Dad’s insistence, a few years ago, that I take out life insurance. “Because if you die, getting your body back home will be bloody expensive”.

09/19/2006 | Omphaloskepsis | No Comments

God bless his dog

Before you go to church on Sunday, or wake up at two in the afternoon with a slightly furry tongue, spare a thought for Reverend Sciortino, who was defrocked following an embarassing incident with a dog.

His offence? Giving it a funeral.

To compound his sins and give extra ammunition to the Archdiocese of Malta, it turns out that Fr. Sciortino is “also renowned for his love of martial arts.”

What a deviant.

09/15/2006 | Malta | No Comments

Another week, nothing achieved.

Another week, nothing gained. Nobody wants my furniture, apart from six gents in Nigeria, one of whom said:

HELLO
I AM INTERESTED IN BUYING ITEM .I LIVE HER IN THE U.S I WILL BE RESTPONSIBLE FOR THE SHIPPMENT DOWN TO MY LOCATION, SO PLEASE KINDLY WRITE ME BACK WITH YOUR LAST OFFERING PRICE,I ALSO NEED THE PIC ,I WILL THEREFORE NEED THE FOLLOWING INFORMATION OF YOURS TO FORWARD TO MY CLIENT BEFORE HE SENDS THE CHECK……
NEME IN FULL………..
ADDRESS IN FULL………
COUNTRY………….
ZIPCODE………..
CELL/OFFICE/HOMENUMBER
WAITING TO HEAR FROM
REGARDS
JOHNSON

You can’t have my neme, you can’t have my number, you can’t have my “special order delivery note by Western Union”. You, sir, are a Johnson.

And it’s very rare that I laugh out loud, particularly at the inane nonsense in the Blogosphere, but Harry Hutton of Chase me ladies made me do just that:

“We owe a great debt of gratitude to Britain’s teachers. If it weren’t for them we’d all be speaking German. And French. And Latin. And be able to do sums.”

This weekend I mean to do something.

09/15/2006 | Omphaloskepsis | No Comments

French letters and other dirty stories

I should have started writing anonymously. I could have written all sorts of naughty stuff. The kind of stuff that would get me demanified now. I met a lovely young mother the other day who does a wonderful job as a charity fundraiser. She also used to write pornographic letters for smutty magazines.

The Observer Woman magazine has a supplement today with write-ups of the following blogs, all but one of which have been made into books. They’re all worth a browse on a Friday afternoon. They’re all written by women. They all contain a healthy dose of smut and they’re all now phenomenally popular.

Greek Tragedy – New Yorker Stephanie Klein’s blog. Get’s in excess of 200,000 visits a month. Has written a book, Straight Up and Dirty, which is being turned into a TV show.
Favourite line: ” I let my dog lick me in private places but this reads way worse than it is.”

Petite Anglaise – doesn’t have a book out yet, but does have a legal case to fight against her former employers. British expat in Paris (which sort of makes us neighbours), raising a three-year old on her own, having succumbed to the French obligation of keeping a lover. A lovely, delicious read.

The Washingtonienne – couldn’t get into this one. A woman called Jessica Cutler who sleeps with people, sometimes for money, sometimes for kicks. Worked at US Congress for a while and has a book out.

Girl With a One Track Mind – called herself Abby Lee until she got outed by the same people who were promoting her book as Zoe Margolis. Used to work in film and tv and catalogues, in detail, what she does with boys. Has a book out under her pseudonym. Reads like a letter to Razzle. Very often very funny.

Lastly, Belle de Jour (sic), who I have been reading for ages, was one of the first to hit the headlines and remains erudite, witty and reassuringly expensive. Her books are selling like five-dollar blow-jobs and are better value for money.

09/10/2006 | Omphaloskepsis | No Comments

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