SAW IT. THOUGHT OF YOU: A Cornucopia of Delightfully Entertaining Complete Bollocks

Hello, You! Yes, You! Long time no blog: I've missed you, you know. No, that's the wrong way round, isn't it? It is you who should have been missing me, being as this is my blog and all. But then, you haven't clamoured for your occasional dose of Mu-Nonsense, so I conclude that my first statement was correct. It is I who have missed you. Commence talking bollocks...

because you know I love Science and shit

A few things have happened that have made me want to bite on spoons again, but there's no need to dwell on those. If I were to write a blog on Why Fifty Shades In Any Of Its Forms Is A Pile Of Fucking Old Wank*, well, I may as well write a blog on Why Hurting Kittens Is Mean. 
I had a birthday; birthdays are not my favourite, but some of you did give me very lovely presents. Thanks ever so much! You are far more generous than I deserve.

because you know I love Octopuses and crazy undies

But no. Instead of spoon-chewing, or birthday gifts, I'm going to share a collection of pictures and clips that you've been sharing with me, in those saw-it-thought-of-you moments. You do know me: lately it's been Chemistry; Bosoms; Grammar; Fancy Shoes; Swearing; Filth; and Octopuses. Sometimes you tell me that I've been in one of your dreams! I LOVE that! And they've all been really cool dreams too, making me quite envious that I wasn't actually there... there was the holding-hands-on-the-bus one; and the carrying-my-luggage-in-LA one; and the drinking-tea-with-Russell-Brand one (no-one's hinted at anything too filthy. That's probably a good thing. But, you know, if it ever happens, keep it to yourself, there's a love. And besides, I'd feel sorry for you). 

because you know I love a bit of Filth

Whenever anyone sends me something like this, though - some little inconsequential item which brought me into their minds - I'm always immensely happy. Perhaps that makes me needy; rather, I hope it means I look for pleasure in small things. If that's true, it means you've seen it too. Thank you. Here they are, dotted about - just a few recent ones. 

There's also this song,which I love, and this blog post, which is just delicious. I want to be her.

www.thebloggess.com

Okay - one spoon-biting moment. For undisclosed reasons, I've been obliged to make my Instagram account private. A private IG profile! Oxymoron much? There hasn't been a greater vehicle for displaying images of narcissistic optimism since the Great Pyramids of Giza. I'm rather fond of my IG account, and I post in there quite frequently. There are many others which would register far higher on the -ometers of Art, Poetry, Beauty, baked goods and Ass-Selfies; still, if you don't already follow me, I'd love it if you would. Otherwise, you won't be able to see my pretty stuff. And that would be a shame. 

Instagram. It makes your eyes go funny

*That's not to say that much has not been written on this subject that isn't well-presented and valid. Here's my favourite. Plus there's this, which about sums it up:

AND ANOTHER THING (Pope Mu's Sweary Sermon)

Yes, I got a great deal out of my system yesterday. One or two things more, and I have done.

I was sobered by an article which a friend shared with me: in it was listed a collection of eight books, the reading of which would furnish the mind with all necessary knowledge of humanity. It was a good list. I was ashamed to see that I had merely 'dipped into' most of them.
  There was no Shakespeare in the list, nor was there any writing by a woman; however I forgive the latter, as the pen has far longer been in the hands of the other sex. That may not be fair, or just, but it is unavoidably true.
I grant that Neil deGrasse Tyson's list is an excellent one, but I believe - I believe - oh, what was I going to say? I've been to Lego Club and cooked dinner since beginning this sentence - that all of humanity may be found within the works of Shakespeare, and is therefore a worthy and necessary addition. I mention this because clearly yesterday I got a little ranty, which means it must be time for a Pope Mu sermon.
Belief! Yes, that was it. Here's what I wanted to share about Belief.

So that's it, really. Oh - except for one other thing. There's one word I have been known to use liberally in conversation, but which I choose not to include in my social media content or in my stage work. Therefore I'm just going to leave this here, for you to comment upon as you see fit. This is where I park my car at work. This guy parks like this regularly, so his precious car can, I don't know, spread out, undo its pants, sleep diagonally, whatever. Read my previous blog entry, and apply liberally. Thank you.

I have two more parking spaces. In Provence

 

SWEARING: Fun For All The Family

WARNING: VERY, VERY SWEARY 
and not very grown-up

Emergency Exit: HERE

I've probably covered this before. Fuck it.

If you hadn't guessed, I really like swearing. I love to swear. Unlike many, many people who do it a lot, I'm very good at it. Just the other evening, in fact, a young man complimented me on my ability to deliver the word 'C**t'¹ with the necessary verve to do it well². I thank you, young man. And, speaking of small boys, my pre-teen son pointed out to me yesterday that I had taught him all the swearwords he knows³. This is true. He also pointed out that I had done so at bedtime, usually after we’d finished reading the daily portion of Narnia.

Fun and Educational

Well? What better way to learn them? We sit together giggling like fools and rolling lovely short vowels around in our mouths. Short vowels; chopped consonants. There is poetry in swearing, and therein lies its pleasure. Ok, he has heard me say them in anger, and I regret that; he chastises me for it. But he fully understands the difference between a well-placed profanity for humorous effect, and a diatribe of obscenities spouting from pure ignorance. Fuck me, the lad’s a sharp one⁴.

Here comes the point: there is poetry in swearing, and that is why it is pleasing to the ear. Here are some examples of my reasoning (I should point out at this stage, I feel, that I have conducted no research into my theories; I have consulted no Learned Linguists, nor have I pored over peer-reviewed papers; I haven’t even typed ‘nob’ into Wiki or Google. ’Sjust wot I fink. So there. I’m the fucking Pope):

SOMETIMES ONLY A SHORT VOWEL WILL DO. We know that Fuck, Piss, and Shit have their origins in Anglo-Saxon times. I don’t know if Anglo-Saxons shouted those words when they hit their thumbs with hammers, but the native tongue seems to require a short, punchy sound when such a thing happens. So knock yourself out. Latin and French aren’t going to do the job. And besides, ‘C**t’ was good enough for Chaucer.

Fun and Educational

POETRY PLEASE “Assonance means getting the rhyme wrong.”⁵ No, but ‘swan’ and ‘stone’ is a bad example. Assonance (the rhyming of the vowels but not the consonants) is immensely pleasing to the ear. I’d give you some other examples, but I can’t be arsed to come up with any – it’s late. But so often the rhyming vowels, the echoed syllable, form part of the pleasure in saying words like ‘motherfucker’; ‘bellend’; and ‘bollocks’ – which is particularly lovely as one’s tongue has to roll round that delightfully onomatopoeic -ollo- combination in the middle. It even resembles the male genitalia when written down. It’s an absolute gift.

Furthermore, the proof of this theory lies in the propensity for creative compound swearing. Admittedly we have moved on from the tame and tabloidesque ‘studmuffin’, but who hasn’t laughed immoderately when a much-esteemed social media acquaintance accuses one of ‘cockwombling fuckmuffery’? The little scamps.

Poop-chute. Bunglec**t. Jizz-Wizard. Fucktrumpet. Not very grown-up; don’t care. 

SEXIST? MOI? There are numerous objections to the use of references to the female genitalia in pejorative terms. Again, that’s not an argument I wish to go into. However, whilst no-one is in doubt of one’s meaning when one refers to another as a ‘twat’, one may be equally sure that, had one said ‘prick’, ‘dickhead’, ‘cock’ or ‘nobstick’, no compliment was intended either. 

Nobstick. See, that’s funny.

Fun and Educational

I FUCKING LOVE FOOTNOTES

¹ There is no hypocrisy in the asterisks. 'C**t' tops the official Ofcom list of words found offensive by the British public⁶, and though I use it, I don't do so on stage or social media. I don't intend to cause offence, believe it or not. I know where to draw the line. Sort of

² ‘Pussy’ is another one. Very few can say that word at all. They’re so afraid of it that it comes out as ‘Pissy’. For fuck’s sake, People. If you’re that afraid of it, don’t even try

³ Within reason. I’m a Lady. He’s got plenty more to learn yet

⁴ He has never, ever sworn in anger, in my hearing. What he says with his peers is his business. He keeps it out of the house

⁵ Frank, in ‘Educating Rita’, by Willy Russell

⁶ Now, that is actual research. I downloaded the .pdf and everything

...Is A Rubbish Title For A Blog

Selenium Arsenic Oxygen Nitrogen Aluminum 

Iron Lithium Carbon Iodine Titanium Einsteinium

That's what I wanted to call this post. Because it spells this (below). You know how much I love the Periodic Table, and this is the politest thing I've ever spelt with it. The relative atomic masses are all correct to one decimal place and everything. 

Science is well sexy.

I made this. I think it's brilliant. So does Brian Cox, or he would, if he saw it. He'd say, 'Mu's cake is brilliaaaaant!'

IT'S CHRISTMAS, and every year I share something seasonal. You can hear my traditional Christmas Eve ghost story here - I read it to my children an hour ago and, once again, they loved it. 

Here's something else, though. I read this, and the ghost story, at the Midwinter Poetry Cafe just last week. You can read my friend Crysse's blog post about it here. This is a bit of Mu-Nonsense to bring to mind a very important but much overlooked period in the life of Jesus: we all know the story of the First Christmas, but very little is written about the Fifteenth Christmas.

So here for you - being as I'm Pope and all - is...

The Fifteenth Book of

CHRISTMAS

Chapter twelve, verses 1-24

¹And it came to pass that Joseph of Nazareth did speak unto his wife a third time, saying, O most holy Mother, the cock hath crew thrice already and His Lordship hath not yet arisen from his pit. ²And Mary did consider and reply, Do not forget, Husband, that the Lord is a growing boy and He needeth His sleep. ³And mind thy grammar.  

⁴That may be so, Wife, said Joseph unto Mary, but it changeth not the fact that thou art suffering Him to lie about in bed today of all days. ⁵Whereupon Mary did flick Joseph about the tunic with a teatowel, saying, Thou wert no doubt the same when thou wert that age. Unto this Joseph could make no reply, for he saw that the most Holy Virgin Mother did verily speak the truth.  

⁶When he could no more endure the waiting, Joseph did again go to Mary and implore of her, Canst thou do nothing to wake Him? ⁷The hour at which we break our fast approacheth, and my stomach doth begin to believe that, like the sacrificial lamb, my throat hath been cut. ⁸At this Mary did roll of her eyes unto Heaven and say, ⁹Sooth, thou shalt not die of hunger, thou great wet blanket, why dost thou not make thyself useful and bring forth the Hoover?  

¹⁰The Hoover? quoth Joseph. ¹¹Yea, the Hoover, quoth Mary, and verily at that moment did a brilliant light  shine upon the head of Joseph, and the angels did sing in holy harmony. Ah, uttered he, ¹²I get thy drift.  

¹³And thus it came to pass that Joseph did extract the Hoover from where it lay in a small utility cave, the existence of which was unto him hitherto unknown. And in his joy, Joseph was moved to exclaim, ¹⁴Righteously with this Hoover shall I cause the Lord to stir even from his pit, that we may at last gladly and with thanks feast upon our festive victuals and open our presents. ¹⁵Well done, Husband, Mary did reply unto him in such a virtuous whisper that he might not hear, ¹⁶Art thou not clever.
¹⁷And at that moment by the pressing of the button which beareth the Mighty Word, ‘ON’, did Joseph cause the air to be rent by a fearful noise. ¹⁸And the fearful noise did continue until the door unto the Lord’s chamber did open, whereupon the Lord Himself did appear in His pants. At this Joseph did rejoice in his small victory, and enquired of the Lord, ¹⁹Jesus, what time dost thou call this? ²⁰And the Lord was most displeased, and He did gnash of His teeth and speak in tongues about it being well unfair, it’s like My birthday and everything.  

²¹And with that did He shuffle into the bathroom, from whence did issue sounds which, though alarming, did fill of His parents’ hearts with hope that the Lord may yet appear a second time before noon.  ²²And Mary did turn unto Joseph, saying, there you are Husband, ²³the Lord doth move in mysterious ways. And Joseph did reply, ²⁴Yea, dear Wife, that He doth.

Here endeth the lesson.

© Muriel Lavender

November 2011