Meme mooched from Meathiel

OK music lovers — here are the rules:

Answer each category with a  SONG. No repeats and don't use the internet (it's tempting but try not  to). Go with the first song that comes to mind, change the answers to  your own.

Be sure to put on your page!

* Something to wear:

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Question Time

Mrs Gnomepants V2.0   does a thing where she poses herself a daily question daily on a doily before going dolally on her Livejournal  and has suggested on numerous occasions that this is an activity I should consider. 

As it is the first day of a new year and the annual "I must write in my diary/livejournal/blog/podcast/underwear every day for a few days then forget and completely give up mid way" festival I thought I'd give it a go. 

Today's question — What’s one question you hate being asked?

Is anyone sitting there? — Yes it's Mr Invisible- fuck off. If you want the chair, ask "Please may I have this chair if nobody is using it?" instead or perhaps "Please may I sit there?" . This question highlights that I am often alone or perhaps I look like the type of person who would be on their own.  Often it results in the chair being taken away — meaning that I will be eventually sat in a sea of emptiness or in a mishapen row of chairs or it will result in being asked to move to accomodate a group of people who simply must sit together on pain of death. 


Raiding the Tomb of Bygone Days

Last time I was unemployed for this length of time, I was in my early twenties. It was the mid-nighties and times were hard; youth unemployment was skyhigh unless you fancied an apprenticeship where the only choices you had were at Fords making cups of tea for the union leaders or hairdressing. 

Actual footage of the 1990s
Actual footage of the 1990s
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Crap Poetry: Gone

What will you do

When I am not there

To fix your reports

And spreadsheets fair?

Who will you talk to?

And ask for advice

When you release me 

From your work vice?

Your work will suffer

Without me there

While you stand around spouting

Lots of hot air

Someone else will follow

No doubt I can see

Your skills based charade

Does not fool me

And when someone higher

Comes in over you

And stands around talking

Just like you do

And takes all your credit

And thanks and praise

The memory of me

Just a faint haze

It will be me faring better

With sails unfurled

You're a true un-skilled charlatan

And I'll tell the world


Crap Poetry: Revelation

Beams of light


dissolving effervesence 


Endless looping


weary ways


like fountains abbey

crumbling edifices

expectations once high

ruined and spoilt

decayed chaotic

adrift afloat

tossed on the ocean

of uncertainty

A mountain revealed

To be a hill

A lion

An ant

Impressive no longer

A banquet

No more than a soup.

Mascarading unseen

Out of depth

Unskilled charlatans

Watching on as others 


Gasping for breath

Unable to stay buoyant

The strong stepping stones

Now out of reach.