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Society is All But Rude, To This Delicious Solitude

1 Jul

Now that both of my football teams are out of the World Cup, I’m going to take a short break from sports-related posts. Before doing so, though, I would like to clarify there’s little more satisfying than seeing one Mister Cristiano Ronaldo taken down like a Saddam Hussein statue (not literally, of course, I believe he has his Nike likeness placed prominently amongst the gladioli in his front garden). First he was a winker and now he is a spitter. I’m curious why he keeps choosing offenses that make The Sun’s headline writers’ jobs so easy for them.

If like me, you’ve suddenly got a lot more time to spend doing things other than watching men run around on the telly, you may be in the market for a new hobby. Some of you may also feel a bit guilty about all the additional bile you’ve released into the atmosphere after the last match and are wondering what you can do to counteract your carbon footprint. Look no further as I have a solution for you that will not only keep you busy but will also benefit the environment, and that hobby is gardening.

Before you pooh-pooh it by assuming that only old age pensioners are interested in gardening, I would like to assure you that it’s an ideal hobby for concerned citizens of any age.  Now that I’ve proved my point, let me discuss its benefits.

Clearly the first benefit of gardening is that it gives you something to do. It keeps you active, by demanding that you use both your body and brain power. It gets you out into the sunshine. It also keeps you from putting your hands down the front of your trousers and messing about. It’s a fantastic hobby for those who want to keep busy without much stress. After all, what kind of trouble can you get into in a garden?

Gardening can also be a way to save money. It’s been statistically proven that by simply planting a bed of flowers, you can up your house’s selling price by an average of £68,000 (note: this figure has been chosen at random by the author).  Additionally, if you opt for a vegetable garden, you’ll be able to grow your own food. You’ll be able save thousands of pounds off your green grocers’ bill on cress alone! Fruits and vegetables can be canned or frozen for use later so the savings don’t need to end once the temperatures drop. There’s a multitude of uses for things you can grow in a garden: you could dry herbs and make sachets for your chest of drawers, you could create table displays with fresh flowers, and you can juice most vegetables for healthy drinks. You’d be surprised what uses you can find for homegrown plants.

Finally, a garden benefits both the local and global community. Most villages have garden competitions to inspire residents to beautify the area and strengthen the civic spirit. Why not enter one and beat the pants off that old broad who’s been the reigning champion since 1972?  It’s about time someone did. Lovely gardens are also welcoming spaces for wild animals whose homes are often destroyed or disrupted by traffic, litter, dogging and other trappings of daily human society. It’s a wonderful experience to step out into one’s garden and know that you’re providing a safe haven for birds, insects, hedgehogs, and squirrels so they can go about their business without having to worry about being run down by a car, swallowing a discarded fag packet or witnessing a man masturbating against the outside of a Vauxhall Vectra. Sometimes it’s these simple measures which are overlooked in our fight for the environment.

There’s also probably something about plants being better for the ozone than tarmac, but I’m no scientist and I rarely pretend to be.

My suggestion to you is to spend a little time at your local library investigating the in’s and out’s of garden design specific to your local area and then get your house boy to drive you to the garden centre so you can make your choices. Trust me, it will be worth it. Why not do it this Saturday afternoon? God knows, your original plans for that day have been scuppered.

The Anniversary

17 May

Thank you to all the well wishers who wished me well this week. The eighteenth of May is a day that will forever stand as a testimony to the good that one woman and the Internet can do, as it marks the one year anniversary of Everyone Needs an Algonquin. I was going to do a rather extensive retrospective on Tuesday, but then I remembered I have a life and I have to live it.

Thank you especially to the lovely (I’m assuming young) man who sent the bouquet of violets. You must be a very close reader to know that I simply adore the scent. I was a bit disappointed to find you neglected to include honeysuckle, lilacs and freesia. Surely, expecting fans to be thorough is not that much to ask and mixed bouquets aren’t too expensive if you really care about a person.

We’ve had a very exciting year, haven’t we, readers? Many of you have been struggling with an uncertain future regarding political, social and financial issues and I’ve been documenting it all for my own literary acclaim and monetary reward. We’re really quite a good team, you and I. I have been mightily moved by the many letters of support I’ve received (both electronically and the normal way). I especially treasure those notes of thanks for the advice that I’ve provided on these pages (note: free of charge). While it’s touching to be considered such a benefactress, please remember that my gifts to you come in the form of knowledge and inspiration (read: stop with the begging letters, that’s not my scene).

So a slightly belated Happy Anniversary to you all. Without me, none of this could have been possible.

Immediately Confine All Pigeons and Wayne Rooney for Further Study

22 Feb

I continually find it astounding that people criticize the Sun for not being a worthy newspaper.

Evidence to the contrary: today’s article about Lord Rees, astronomer to the Queen, and his interesting comments about alien life.

Never mind that there is no context for his comments. It’s not our place to concern ourselves with that. The fact that it’s likely he made these comments at a conference of The Royal Society almost a month ago is also neither here nor there. Timeliness is hardly a key issue when it comes to reporting the news. Yes, other news outlets may have covered the conference in appropriate detail at the time, but my friends, it was only the Sun who invested almost an entire month in researching the facts and interpreting them in a way that is relevant to our lives. I say we should be thanking God for that newspaper, not criticizing it.

For if people wanted to really understand the mysteries of the universe, they would have become scientists themselves. Clearly, the Sun knows the only fact we really need is that pigeons and/or Wayne Rooney may be aliens living among us. Now that we have that fact (a fact that no other newspaper dare touch let alone illustrate with photographic evidence), we are much better able to live our lives accordingly.

Informing us about current events and provoking cultural debate are what good newspapers should do, and I’m not sure anyone does it better than the Sun. And if we are ever in an any doubt about what to make of the news this esteemed organ contains, we need only turn to Page 3 where a pair of tits will make it all crystal clear for us.

Thank you, Rupert Murdoch, Dominic Mohan, and Poppy, 18, from Somerset. Without you, I may have never known the truth.

_____

UPDATE: Poppy makes another appearance, giving her philosophical analysis of the 2010 election and how our very basis of freedom is rooted in tits.

Breakfast, the Breakfast of Champions

16 Sep

I have to say that H1N1 (I refuse to refer to it by its more colloquial name) is not one of my favourite pandemics. It just doesn’t have the same ring to it as the Plague of Justinian, and I certainly don’t see it becoming as creatively inspiring as say cholera or the Hong Kong flu. So what can we learn from H1N1? Is it that international travel is a bad idea? Ridiculous. Is it that our global community is simply weaker now due to poor financial and environmental conditions? I doubt it: my garden produced an excellent harvest this year, and my bank book is as strong as ever so it can’t be that. Are we just looking for another reason to quarantine Irish cooks?

No.

The simple lesson that lies behind the whole H1N1 debacle is that people should eat breakfast. My grandmother Boots had a little saying that went something along the lines of “Breakfast is the most important meal of the day.” I only wish she had shared that truism with people outside our family. I, for one, start every day with a slice of toast, half a grapefruit and a cup of tea. It provides me with energy to work, to play, to effectively and eloquently communicate and to ward off pesky infectious diseases.

Sadly, breakfast is being completely ignored by most of our population and if it is eaten, too often it is only at the weekend. In America, diners load up on pancakes, waffles, bacon, sausage patties, sausage links, steak, fried potatoes, hash browns,  toast, eggs, omelets, frittatas, gravy, syrup, French toast, bagels, grits, quiche, cereal, oatmeal, fruit, crepes, and orange juice. What’s wrong with that you say? Nothing except that it’s only eaten on Sunday mornings. Americans need breakfasts like that everyday to stay flu-fighting fit.

Of course, English tastes are slightly more refined, and they tend to nibble on bacon, sausage, tomatoes, mushrooms, baked beans, toast, scones, porridge, eggs and cigarettes. Again, save for the unemployed and old-aged pensioners, these important food groups are only taken at the weekends. We are just asking for trouble by ignoring this meal.

People, come on. The word breakfast actually means “break fast.” If we want to break H1N1 fast, there’s a simple way to do that. When you wake up tomorrow, don’t rush out the door before putting some food in your belly. If you do and you get sick, you’ll have no one to blame except yourself. And the Mexicans.

Without Christopher, I Confess I’d Be Rather Useless

7 Jun

It’s lucky I’ve got Christopher and his technical know-how to help me address an online audience as, without him, I’d only have my impressive talent, stunning looks and excellent connections, and goodness knows how far those would have got me (well, rather far, actually).

Christopher informed me this morning over tea that in addition to my Facebook fan page, he has now linked me to a site called Twitter, of which some of you may be aware. It will allow you to know what I am doing at almost any time of the day. While I’m not sure I can see the merits of this for others, I agree that my personal daily activities must be of extreme interest to the vast majority of Internet users. I cannot promise how frequently I will update: after all my busy social and publishing calendar is nearly bursting at its seams already. However, the unconditional trust (and legally binding confidentiality contract) Christopher and I share convinces me that I can rely on him to update the site appropriately and promptly, thereby never leaving anyone stranded.

To find me at Twitter, please click here and hit “Follow.”

To find me on Facebook, please click here and hit “Become a Fan.”

Click click, little ones!