Posts Tagged ‘books’

As part of Hate Is Great season,here we go again with another acid-filled blog all about things which “grind my gears.”

1.We’ll start with an easy one…..if you say “could of” and “would of” instead of “could have” or “would have”….I know where you live,and I’m sending the boys round as we speak.

2.Dan Brown-just because.

3.Post Offices-they sell everything now…credit cards,home/holiday/car/life insurance,telephony/mortgages…all of which they attempt to flog you when all you want is a stamp.No wonder the queues are always spewing out the door.My local P.O. pretty much always has every counter open,to be fair,but they still can’t cope with the backlog of grannies wanting a 2nd class stamp.Less talk,more speed please.

4.Kirstie Allsopp-chunky host of Location etc etc…every week she tells of the sad plight of posh couples who want to buy a 20-bedroom mansion in the country with a budget of only 50 million quid….bless ’em.Awful woman….she’s completely out of touch with reality.In fact she reminds me of a manager I once had,she liked the sound of her own voice….looked like her too.AND Kirstie gets dressed in the dark and is obviously no stranger to jumble sales….I would,though.

5.Books-I’ve got a game for you to play when you’re in WHSmiths next.Pick any new book currently on sale.Now try and buy it at the price printed on the inner flap.You won’t be able to…because this is a complete fantasy to make you think you’re getting a bargain.If anyone reading this can find a new book at the price listed on the cover I will buy it off them,refund their petrol if necessary,and take them out for a slap-up meal at the Harvester of their choice.It’s the norm these days for shops to heavily discount books,to compete with the interweb etc.-why should shop A sell it at 18.99 if shop B and the rest of the alphabet has it at a discount–fair enough,but then whats the point of printing the full price if it can’t actually be bought at that price.

6.People who check their lotto numbers in the shop-Next time you hand over your grubby ticket to the pale Saturday girl and ask her to check if you’re a winner,consider this-do you really expect her to say “Oh congratulations sir,you’ve got all 6 balls and you’re a gazillionaire.Well done,here’s your ticket back.” Or would it be more likely that she’d say “Sorry,you’ve got nothing.” and stuff the winning ticket into her grubby overalls.You’ve only got the machine operator’s word for it.If this is the slapdash way in which you onduct your business,then you deserve to be robbed.This has probably happened more times than you’d think. How do I know this….well,if I was operating a lotto machine and a winning ticket came my way,I’d take it and say nothing…and so would YOU.

7.People who don’t vote and complain about the outcome-In the last European Parliament elections,the BNP gained a couple of seats.Cue much gnashing of teeth from the entire population,many of whom probably didn’t vote or were among the thousands of people who spoiled their voting papers in every constituency.This will probably happen again this May when the General Election rears it’s ugly head….make your vote count,don’t waste it then complain your party didn’t get in.

8.Cheryl Cole-oh,like I need to explain.

9.Anti-smoking loonies-This is the warning next to the booking details for Robert Pattinson’s new film,Remember Me-“Contains infrequent strong language, moderate sex and violence, and smoking.”


Because apparently,smoking has become the number one bogeyman…by all means,let our children see all kinds of murder & blood & guts & shagging on televison,but make sure they don’t see anyone having a sneaky Woodbine because they might take up smoking themselves,even though they already smoke 20 a day.

What’s next ?

 This film contains a man called Brian?

Contains sex,violence and people with bad teeth?

 This film is not suitable for people who don’t like budgies?

We all know where this comes from,which leads me neatly on to the last hate-


10.America-I don’t know where to begin….the utter crapness of this country deserves an entire series of blogs all of  its own.One of God’s biggest mistakes.


Sometimes,when I’m reading certain books that have been raved about by what seems to be the entire literate planet,I often wonder if I’ve picked up the right book.

I experienced the same feeling while reading The Road by Cormac McCarthy…I didn’t get it at all….I couldn’t finish it.

I lent it to my mother who managed to finish it,and she was totally baffled….mind you,that’s her usual state of mind,but that’s another story.

So it is with the current “must-read” book-The Lovely Bones,by Alice Sebold,although “current” is a misnomer seeing as the novel is eight years old.It is enjoying a resurgence in popularity due to the new film adaptation by Peter Jackson,my blog-review of which will follow in a few days time.It wouldn’t do to confuse the two-movie adaptations are exactly that…an adaptation,a version of the original story.

So-back to the book…I won’t go into the plot too much as I’m sure you all know it,and I’ll try to avoid spoilers as much as possible.

My overriding feeling on finishing it is….this is simply an OK book,and certainly not a great one as most people would have you believe.

Narrated by murdered teenager Susie Salmon,the book tells of how her friends cope with her death,and how her family gradually falls apart.Call me heartless or unfeeling,but I found the story very flat,dull and pretentious.After an effective opening,depicting the killing of Susie,the story tails off somewhat,and overall seems rushed and unfinished.The most interesting parts are the passages about Susie’s friends and how they develop over the years….Susie herself and her family are less engaging.Susie’s killer,George Harvey,also seems not fully realised.I think in the hands of a better writer,this novel could have been a more powerful work.

Maybe it’s simply a case of me missing the point once again,but I am underwhelmed by the novel….I hesitate to use the phrase “chick-lit” but I think this is a book that women will get more out of than men.

I wanted to like The Lovely Bones….whenever I read a new book or listen to new music,I look for the “hook” that will pull me in and allow me to love it.

I couldn’t find it in The Lovely Bones.

Coming soon-The Lovely Bones-Film Review-although I’m reluctant to link the two different entities as if they were two halves of a whole,it’ll be interesting to see what Peter Jackson has made of the story.

Count Mephistopheles Von Tiddles.....yesterday.

Count Mephistopheles Von Tiddles.....yesterday.

The story so far:

I,Blog Dog,Agent Double Oh-Woof,undertook a mission on behalf of HM The Queen (God Bless Her) to recover the lost book,The Necronomnomicon,for England and all that.In cahoots with Agent Norma Snockers,we discovered our first clue in the bowels of the Top Secret Library Of Very Scary Books,from whence the book was half-inched….a cat hair that could only belong to my old nemesis,that Malfeasant Moggy—Count Mephistopheles Von Tiddles!!!

Now read on!!


Aston Martin BD-5,speeding towards the British Museum

I gripped the wheel of the Aston and sped towards The British Museum…..I wanted to see my old friend Professor Bernardo Whiplash-Prebendary,an expert on spooky books and all that Dan Brown,Lawrence Da Vinci secret society bollocks.

Norma was still out cold in the passenger seat,her blouse loosened so she could breathe easily,and so I could have a look at her-

-so I could make sure she was alright.

I came to a screeching stop outside the museum,narrowly missing a group of students….so I reversed and made sure I flattened the scruffy bastards.

I stepped from the Aston,scuttling over the twitching bodies of the unwashed,workshy,cup-a-soup guzzling,long-haired wasters-

(Not too keen on students,then?)

-and trotted into the museum,the unconscious Norma slung over my shoulder.I stepped into the lift and rode it to the thirteenth floor,where the professor’s office was located.

Professor Whiplash-Prebendary’s office was disguised as a mop cupboard,but was far bigger on the inside than outside,like that thing off the telly…you know,Doctor What,with that Scottish bloke,whatsisname….Derek Tenement.

(Hah…I could show him a thing or two about time-travelling…I’ve battled the dreaded Garleks throughout space and time,and I didn’t continually over-act while doing it.

And you should have seen my scarf-it was epic.)


But this was the real thing…the trick was all to do with books.

Just as second-hand bookshops and libraries will increase their interior size to accommodate the books within (shops selling NEW books don’t do this),any room with sufficient reading matter within it will also extend it’s inner volume out  through our dimension and into the higher non-Euclidean dimensions,stretching it’s very atoms to fill the dreadful,unknowable void of the Etherverse.

All you need is enough secondhand books…and Prof.Whiplash-Prebendary sure loved books.

If you’ve never seen half a million well-thumbed Mills&Boon paperbacks stacked floor-to-ceiling before,I recommend you pay the Professor a visit.

It is quite a sight.

Mind you,so is the Professor….6ft 6 inches tall,white hair like an explosion in a sherbet factory and built like a brick convenience.

Quite a woman,is Bernardo Whiplash-Prebendary.

The Prof was sat at her desk,bent over a book…I crept up behind and read over her shoulder-

“Percy gazed longingly at Deidre….her glass eye glinted in the moonlight….her heaving bosom heaved rhythmically in time with the tossing cruise liner.She pressed her firm yet yielding body up against Percy…Deidre could feel his growing passion poking into her nether regions.Deidre looked at Percy lustily,and said “Oi,put that away-you’re half decent-”

“My girlfriend’s called Deidre.” I remarked.

The Prof. swung round,startled.

“Ah there you effing well are Blog Dog,you old sod! Who’s the totty?” she asked,indicating the still asleep Norma.

“Agent Norma Snockers.”

“Hmm….named after her father,no doubt.Anyway,what the bloody hell can I do you for?”

“It’s Von Tiddles…he’s stolen the Necronomnomicon!”

“Jesus H.Tennant!! Not the chuffing Necronomnomnomicon!!”

“It’s just two noms,actually,Prof.”

“Sorry,I’ll try again……………..Not the chuffing Necronomnomicon!!”

“The very same!”

“Not the Necronomnomicon!” cried Norma,then went back to sleep.

(You’re only keeping her asleep because you can’t think of any funny lines for her…or for anyone else for that matter.)

“What a bastard!”


Not you…

“Quite….and he’s going to use it to summon up all kinds of spooky,blobby shit to lay waste to dear old Blighty and have the streets run with blood,dogs and cats living together,and things of that nature generally.”

“So now you’re going after him to right royally twat him and get the book back?”

“Not ‘arf.”

“Fecking great! Will there be gratuitous sex and violence along the way?”

“Oh yes!”

“Funting marvellous!! Although I read in The Times that you’d recently jumped the broomstick…to the divine Deidre Macbeth?

“Ah yes,but a secret agent on Her Majesty’s (God Bless Her) official secret service is sometimes required to give in and of himself in the line of duty….that often includes nailing any nice piece of crackling that comes his way.”

(By the way,are you still carrying Norma on your shoulder?)

Yes…she was pressing against me in a way that suggested she more than lived up to her name…anyway,shush,there’s an exciting bit coming up.

(Thank god for that…I’m sure you’re getting paid by the letter,or something…oh,and Deidre said to tell you the dinner is ready.)

Tell her I’ll be right there.

Just then,there was an almighty crash from the corridor…the door of the office was rent asunder…and there,framed in the doorway was an abomination….a creature of such horrific countenance,of such awful visage,of such…suchness….that even I was speechless…

The Professor stood firm…she squared up to the monster.

It towered over her…no mean feat.

The horror stared balefully at the Prof,and opened it’s hideous mouth….inside was a Hell of teeth,worthy of some monster piranha….

A “voice” from the deepest pit of Hades spewed forth-

“Would you and your friend like a cup of tea,dear?”,it said.

“For chuff’s sake,Mum that’s the third door you’ve knackered this week….yes,we would like a cup of tea,please.Bloggers,you knob,you can come out now it’s only me old Mum.”

“Ah…ha ha I wasn’t hiding,I was umm….ummm…”

“Milk and sugar?”

“Yes please.”

“How many lumps?”

“Three please.”


“Yes….hurry up and pour,I’ve got a book to find-The Necronomnomicon!”

“The Necronomnomicon!” cried the Professor.

“The Necronomnomicon!” cried the Professor’s Mum.

“The Necronomnomicon!” cried Norma Snockers,who hadn’t had many lines in this episode.

“The very same…I don’t have a moment to lose……any custard creams?”

Next Episode-The Man With The Golden Bun!

Me totally rocking the tuxedo look....

Me totally rocking the tuxedo look....

The name’s Dog….Blog Dog.

Double OH-WOOF.

Licensed to-

(Lick your own privates?)


Now,as you might expect,a lot of famous people ask for my help,from Presidents to pop stars,from Ronald Reagan to Shakin’ Stevens….now there’s a young man with talent.

My tales of derring-do are well known…far be it for me to seek personal gain from constantly banging on about my adventures.Fame,fortune,totty…I crave not these things.

(That’s good because you never get any of those things.)

You’re just jealous.

Anyway,as I was saying,most of my escapades are the stuff of legend…but less well known are my little “jobs” for Her Majesty,The Queen (God Bless Her.)

The Queen (God Bless Her) has always been a keen fan of my adventures,and so it came as no surprise to me to be summoned into the presence of the old girl one crisp,autumn day,to help with a “little problem.”

I hopped in the Aston Martin BD-5 and zoomed towards Buck House,where I was ushered into the presence of HM The Queen (God Bless Her)

“It’s like this,Blog Dog.” said Lizzie as she rested the Royal Posterior on one of the servants.I did likewise.

“One has been and gone and had one’s copy of the Dreaded Necronomnomicon stolen from one’s Top Secret Library Of Very Scary Books,and one would rather like to have it back.”

The Necronomnomnomicon!!! The most dangerous-

“It’s just two “noms” actually,BD.” quipped Lizzie.

The Necronomnomicon!!! The most dangerous book ever written!!! Believed to have been inscribed in the living blood of a million virgins by the “Madder -Than- A -Blender- Full- Of- Elephants” Arab,Abdul Al-Jolson,a billion years ago on the planet Myopia!!! It contains dreadful invocations and unmentionable spells which deranged disciples of the Great Old Ones can use to summon up all kinds of spooky,blobby shit!!!

“Yes,that’s the one.We don’t want just any old deranged disciple of the Great Old Ones using it to summon up all kinds of spooky,blobby shit….”

I started to suspect that the Queen (GBH) had very great mental powers…pretty impressive for an old bird of 80-odd.

“I’ll give you “old bird” you bottom-chaser!” snapped The Madge,and smacked me a good ‘un round the ear with her Royal Smacking Stick.Gathering her composure, she fixed me with the Royal Stare.

“One,Lizzie The Queen (God Bless Me),hereby commands you to find the Necronomnomicon and right royally twat them what ‘alf-inched it.One suggests that one transports one’s doggy posterior down to the Top Secret Library to look for clues… will also meet your assistant,specially chosen by one.”

I took offense at this…Queen or no Queen (GBH),I always work alone.I can do more damage that way.

“With respect,Your Majesty,I don’t need an assistant,they always get in the way and need rescuing and all that while I’m trying to save the entire world and look cool in the process,so no thank you.”

“But it’s their first mission after graduating from the Secret Agent Academy….”

“Too inexperienced.”

“The agent may be only 19 years old,but….”

“Too young.”

“Ah well,she’ll be very disappointed.”

“I’ll give her a weeks’s trial.”

****INTERMISSION—Choc ices and albatrosses are available in the foyer****

She was waiting for me as I walked confidently into the Top Secret Library,bending over a computer and looking brainy,wearing a skirt that could double as a scarf.

I liked her immediately.The rest of her was pretty good too.

She turned to face me

“Ah,you must be…?”

“Dog…Blog Dog.And you are….?”

“Snockers…..Norma Snockers.Agent Double Oh-Phwoar.”

“But of course you are.” She did indeed resemble the proverbial “dead-heat in a Zeppelin race.”

“Let’s get to work.”  Ooh,all business…I like that in a woman.

Norma slinked off towards the bookshelves,gesturing me to follow.The movement of her lower portions was somewhat hypnotic.

She led me towards a suspiciously book-shaped hole in the Spooky Shit section.

“This is where the Necronomnomicon was kept.”

The Necronomnomicon!!!!

“Stop that.”


“And that had most definitely better be your paw on my leg.”

“Sorry again.”

“We believe the thief got in by using a laser to cut a hole in the 10 foot thick steel roof,abseiled down past the mini-gun emplacements,distracted the rabid Rottweilers with some sort of Rottweiler-distracting device,wrestled the alligator into unconsciousness,then casually came in here and stole the Necronomnomicon-”

The Necronomnomicon!!!!

“I thought I told you to stop that.Anyway,that was the easy part…actually being able to touch the book in the first place would have required a magical education far outside the abilities of normal men.”

I was beginning to have some very nasty suspicions.

“Do you have any suspects?”

“I have one clue,a single hair found in the mouth of the alligator,it must have taken a bite out of the culprit before it sparked out.” Agent Snockers produced a little bag out of her pocket,and squatted down close to show it to me.I could smell her perfume….Tweed,by Lentheric.

Classy bitch.

I trained my well-trained eye on the object in question…it didn’t look like human hair,or dog hair,which admittedly didn’t narrow it down much.

I asked Norma to come closer so I could have a good old sniff of it,and,after smacking me around the ear a few times,realised I meant the hair,and opened the bag.

My blood ran cold.

(It does that a lot,doesn’t it?)

Well,you see,I deal in horror on a daily basis…it’s how I roll.

“By the Gods!” I exclaimed.

“Have you seen this hair before?” asked Norma.

“Yes…it is a cat hair!”

“Not a cat hair!!!! ” gasped Norma.

“Yes…a cat hair!” I replied.

“Not a cat hair!!!! ” gasped Norma.

“That’s very annoying.”


“This is the work of only one cat,and one cat only…the Crown Prince of Feline Felony,that despoiler of virgins,avoider of taxes,pincher of bottoms…”

(Sounds like you.)

Be quiet.

“You don’t mean—?”

Norma clutched me tightly….things were looking up.

“Yes I do mean—–Count Mephistopheles Von Tiddles!!!”

My arch-enemy!!!

Norma fainted.Things were indeed looking up.

Next episode-Dr? NO WAY!

The Accidental Librarian

Posted: August 28, 2009 in Life
Tags: , ,

trinity-college-library-dubToday,I accidentally found myself in my local library.

This came as a bit of a shock to me as I try to avoid it if at all possible.It’s not that I don’t like libraries,I love them…a big building full of books is almost orgasmically wonderful.It’s just that my local is a bit rubbis…it always seems to have the same books on the racks.They never have anything new in…I couldn’t see a single Harry Potter,but there were a few well-worn tomes on how to maintain a 1970s Ford Capri and a guide to decimalisation.

I kid you not…there are books I remember from 20 years ago.

Most intriguing of all was a section entitled “Print Bras.”

Now before you get excited at the prospect of borrowing ladies foundation garments with stories written on them,it’s actually Welsh for “large print.” My mother is single-handedly keeping the large-print business going,she’s read them all.All the crime ones.That’s all she reads…she’s an expert on them.

Maybe westerns are more your thing? You would be well-served by my local,there is a spin-rack devoted to well-thumbed paperbacks with lurid titles like “Gutshot At Gobblers’ Gulch” …. writing them is somebody’s job,you know.Similarly Mills & Boon,which have also played a part in keeping libraries open.It is  mind-boggling to wonder how many times they have been read.How many times have the words “he crushed her hot,panting body in his manly arms” been read by sex-starved grannies?

I’ve never really liked reading books from the library…you never really know where they’ve been.

Imagine borrowing The Joy Of Sex,rushing home to “study” the best bits,only to find the pages stuck together.

Not good.

Today,I was in the company of the aforementioned Mother Unit,who always gets half a dozen large print whoppers so needs me to carry them home.I left her in the “gory murders” section and went to peruse the Sci-fi section…they had a Torchwood book…things were looking up.I am not a member of the library anymore,but this was still exciting.

Now I was some feet away from my mother,but this fact seemed to elude the old girl,because she was still talking to me..I could still hear her,but that’s not the point…she looked like a loony.I live in Carmarthen….believe me,I know my loonies.I gently put her straight.To some people,holding a conversation over a 12ft gap may be normal,but I don’t like all and sundry knowing my business…I’m like that.I continued my perusement…only to be distracted by an old gentleman…who was talking to himself….or quite possibly talking to the books.

He seemed happy though.

The library has had a makeover since I was there last.Flat-screen telly,computers with interwebs access (they’ve had this for awhile,actually) and DVDs by the ton.I remember borrowing cassettes and LPs back in the day…all gone now.Gone also is the reading area where oldies would read the papers….rather sad that.But it was time it joined the modern world,although I didn’t ask about the potential existence of wi-fi access…I didn’t want to confuse the staff.

Despite all this,today’s visit was something of a revelation.I am seriously considering joining up again.I spotted a few nuggets among the ancient manuscripts that may be worth a crafty borrow…

Because,you know,joining a library…it’s sooo rock’n’roll…..but that’s my life….on the edge.

…you would ask for a bigger instrument.”

Or so read a spam email I received over the weekend.

Well…I suppose you would,wouldn’t you…it’s your God-given right to demand a bigger instrument.

Warning…I may get a bit random here.

Anyway….how are you all since I was here last?

Nothing much blogworthy happened at the weekend…my son stayed after his holiday,and we had a fun-filled,cup-

A highly dangerous animal...holding a snake (My son btw)

A highly dangerous animal...holding a snake (My son btw)

a-soup fuelled video-game and Scrabble fest.He brought me a present from Spain…a photo of him holding a whacking great snake.I admire his bravery,because it was one of those things where people sell photos of tourists with various animals…you’re walking along then someone plonks Hissing Sid on your shoulder and asks you for 20 euros.He’s smiling in the photo but I would have crapped myself.

His mother and step-father came to pick him up yesterday.

How can I describe my son’s mother…think of a blonde twiglet in high heels.

She is a little on the “un-fat” side,what my mother would call a “stick-insect.” She is something of a pin-up among my son’s friends.I still fancy her,if I’m honest…but she’s not the easiest person to live with,so I probably won’t be sending her naughty texts anytime soon suggesting a reconciliation.

It’s her 40th birthday next month,and she is arranging a bit of knees-up.It’s also her non-identical twin-sister’s 40th birthday on EXACTLY the same date…how inconsiderate of her.(Ha ha) Anyway,I suggested they have a joint do and invite their parents and I could get my suit out of mothballs and all that.

Trouble is…the sisters aren’t actually speaking,and haven’t been for some considerable time.My son’s mother refers to her sister as “SHE” at all times (putting a lifetime of resentment into the word),and has always felt that she is not as good as her.They’ve never really got on…it’s all rather sad,and not something I want to get involved in,because I don’t know all the details,and it isn’t really affecting my son at all.I hope they will work it out in the end,but if I know my son’s mother at all,it probably won’t.


MadHatterI’m currently reading Alice’s Adventures In Wonderland…call me a miserable old cynic,but it isn’t as good as I’d expected it to be.It’s one of those books that everyone calls a classic but have never actually read,like Orwell’s Nineteen Eighty-Four…now that is a classic that lives up to its hype.(I should know,I’ve read it five times.)

I’m like that with “classic” books…I thought Catcher In The Rye was an atrocious book,but some people,especially the Americans,regard it as some kind of Bible.

The Lord Of The Rings was a reading experience that can only be described as painful…I forced myself to finish The Fellowship of the Ring but chickened out of reading the other two books.

I could name others…Dracula,Dune….when I started reading London Fields by Martin Amis,I lost the will to live…that book is like having a chimpanzee with bowel trouble sitting on your head,continually flicking your ears.

Here,for your delectation,is a list of my Top 10 Books-perfect desert island reading…

  1. Everything by George Orwell (esp. Nineteen Eighty-Four/Down And Out In Paris & London)
  2. Everything by Philip K.Dick (esp. Martian Time-Slip/A Scanner Darkly)
  3. That’s probably more than 10,but never mind…it’s my list…
  4. The New York Trilogy by Paul Auster (nuttier than squirrel doo-doo)
  5. American Psycho by Bret Easton Ellis (The story of Patrick Bateman..played by Christian Bale in the film-’nuff said)
  6. The Forever War by Joe Haldeman (first line-“Tonight we’re going to show you eight silent ways to kill a man.”)
  7. Childhood’s End by Arthur C.Clarke (sci-fi at its best)
  8. Crash by J.G.Ballard (read all of his books too)
  9. The Third Policeman by Flann O’Brien (an Irish comic genius)
  10. Absolutely everything ever written by Robert Rankin…even his shopping lists

That’s it.

If anybody wants to borrow any of these books,let me know. 😉

Chilling on a street San Francisco...the other day.

Chilling on a street corner…in San Francisco…the other day.

Greetings readers!

Please allow me to introduce myself,I am a dog of wealth and taste.

I am…The Blog Dog!

Now, it has come to my attention that the dashingly handsome,young,virile and totally exceptional chap who types out my blogs for me has been treating Tropical Moments like it’s his own blog.

This kind of behaviour is a clear breach of his contract.His job is to type out whatever I say,not bang on about Cup-A-Soup and Darlicks.

(It’s Daleks,actually —Rizla)

See what I mean?

Give him a keyboard and he thinks he’s Dan Brown.

Now there’s a writer of integrity and style….almost as good as Katie Price.

NOT the Library Doors...

NOT the Library Doors…

Speaking of which,I was relaxing in my Fortress of Blogitude the other evening,pondering the universe and everything in it,when I heard a strange noise coming from the Lower Library.Setting down my copy of “Being Jordan”,which I was re-reading for the 13th time,I hot-pawed it down the marble staircase to investigate.

Upon reaching the 100ft tall solid ebony Library doors,(which I…ahem…”borrowed” from the Tower of Babel,back in the day) I was rather alarmed to discover that one of the doors was a jar.

And by this I don’t mean that it was half open…it actually had turned into a jar.Quite a nice one too….sort of orangey-black with a little stopper on the top,and a pleasant sort of zig-zaggy pattern around the middle.

Bit of a bummer about the door,though.It was irreplacable.And I absolutely hate MDF…

Peeking through the door-less doorway into the gloom,I could see what the French refer to as “sod-tout.” Steeling myself against whatever needed steeling against,I crept into the Library.

Passing my Katie Price first editions,I thought I heard the sound of laughter and running feet,just over there by my Thomas The Tank Engine collection.Pausing only to light a candle,which I placed in a holder and gripped with my teeth (just in case anyone wonders how a dog can carry a candle…accept it,I’ve got the skills),I set off to hunt down the intruder and bite their legs.

I turned the corner past Thomas The Tank,and headed into the Sherlock Holmes aisle.Some of the Strand Magazines,specifically the ones personally signed by the great detective himself,had been disturbed and were strewn across the rather dusty floor.Making a mental note to send one of the plebs down here to sweep up,I gave chase.Fortuitously,the dusty floor had retained the prints of the interloper’s feet…they were headed towards…surely not!!

The Holiest of Holies!!!

Their target was The Vault…it had to be!!

With a clenching,gnawing terror fisting my soul,I realised who the intruder was…it was her.

She had come to a halt outside the Vault (ooh that rhymes!),but I feared nowt.She was clever but would never be able to open the door.It was locked in time as well as space.

(pretentious woof-woof-Rizla)

Shush!! I’m coming to an exciting bit….go and have a Cup-A-Soup or something.

Now where was I? Oh yes…I tip-toed,terrified,down the last aisle to confront her,eebie jeebies playing a symphony of terror in my nether-regions.She was stood with her back to me,playing a stethoscope over the lock.Ha! She had no idea what she was getting herself into.I stepped into her personal space.She whirled around,startled,dropping the stethoscope.Hee hee…I so own her.

Marjorie Misnomer breaks the Fourth Wall...

Marjorie Misnomer breaks the Fourth Wall…

“So,you’ve come at last,Marjorie Misnomer.” I proclaimed.

Marjorie Misnomer (for it was she) quickly recovered her composure and fixed me with her sanity-blasting gaze.She smiled,and my back legs wobbled a bit,but I stood firm.I had battled the most heinous evils throughout history.I’d even watched a whole episode of Doctor Who starring that Tennant person,so I was no stranger to horrific sights.

“Give me the combination,dog.” she rasped “or it’s the rhubarb for you.”

I chuckled.Her eyes narrowed.

“You do realise that nobody thinks the running joke about the rhubarb is very funny,don’t you?”

“Well you certainly won’t be laughing when I stick it up your doggy arse!”

“Language,Marjorie,language!” I chided.I didn’t want to wind her up too much…she may be imaginary but she was still dangerous here in the Library,where reality and unreality copulate in an orgy of metaphysics.

(What the hell does that mean?)

Bugger off you wombat.


(And I assume that,with all this talking you’ve been doing,that the candle has disappeared?)

Ah…yes..I put it on a shelf,next to the Delia Smith Cookbook.Happy now?

(Fair enough)

Marjorie Misnomer penetrated me with her grave-robbing stare.I held fast.

“There’s no use trying that old trick…I created you and everything about you…I am immune to your power.Besides,you won’t find what you’re looking for in there.Sherlock Holmes certainly didn’t,and you are most definitely no Sherlock Holmes.”

“I am Marjorie Misnomer,The Ghoulish Goth,and I WILL find out what happens to me!” she roared,blowing the dust off my Twilight hardbacks.

Ha you foolish girl…if in fact you are a girl…even I don’t know what happens next…I haven’t written the next chapter yet.But I can tell you that your “twin” sisters feature prominently….I think they’re a very promising character…characters…whatever.”

A look of fear crossed her face.Ha!

“So I suggest you be a little more polite to me or I may introduce some sibling rivalry.”

“I could destroy you,dog!”

“But who would write you then?”

“Pshaw! Anybody could,the story isn’t that good anyway…I’m only a made-up person after all,I—-Oh shit!…”

Marjorie Misnomer vanished in a puff of alphabet.

(Oh very clever…getting her to admit she’s not real…the oldest trick in the book.)

Works every time, Rizla me old china.Did it when Sherlock came snooping…he wasn’t too keen on going into the fight with Moriarty at the Falls without knowing the outcome,and he knew I owned every single issue of The Strand,even the ones that hadn’t been printed yet.


Never mind…just go and get my nom-noms ready.And don’t just pour a few Cup-A-Soups in my bowl like last time…I don’t know,you just can’t get the staff…

Until next time,Meta Fans…farewell!