Tuesday, April 29, 2008


More on the celebrated subject of werdz

It was always an impossible task, and that was precisely the point. The attempt was all.
Ian McEwan

When I first started posting to this site, I was keen that my thoughts in writing should not fall into the same trap as my thoughts when spoken out loud. Namely, to be riddled with foul language. It was once my hope that friends' mothers might be able to read this page without grimacing.

Today, I conducted a search through my site using the bar at the top and a couple of choice expressions, and was gloomily unsurprised by how many times they showed up, often italicised, emboldened or in upper case.

Ah, well: the author stoically throws himself upon his pen and springs, fresh and whole, back to life from the ground. Maybe next year will be the year I clean it up.


SCENE: El Pancho (?) Mex Restaurant in the heart of do-or-die Shinsai. I'm having lunch with the VMM and have just, as is my wont, made it through a sentence of Dickensian length, littered with Fs and whatnot.

HE (laughing): Dude, there are families in here.

ME: What year?!

Can't beat the classics. For a second, I thought he was going to cough his drink out of his nose.


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