Eight-million years ago I ran a poetry competition and the prize was a guest post on Rule of Stupid (you can imagine the celebrations). In this guest post, competition winner Face At The Window pretends to be me writing about her, tres post-modern dahling… and I’ve thrown in some cartoons too. Bring it on…
Guest Blogger FaceAtTheWindow
Faceatthewindow? What the hell is that all about? A blog designed for peeping Toms? Creepy.
I half expected it to be made up entirely of photographs of distressed, half naked people shouting ‘piss off’ and trying to cover their naughty bits with a face towel.
If there’s one thing I can’t stand it’s these bloody schizophrenic bloggers who can’t make their mind up about why they’re here: one day a poem, the next a pseudo-political rant, and in-between some messed up oddness about oranges and lemons. Is this a grocers window!?
The problem is that it all starts to melt together:
I’m currently under the impression that faceatthewindow’s daughter is an asylum seeker, that Face rubs lipstick on her teeth at parties but wants fat builders to tell her she’s pretty, and that she loves her children yet is unwilling to make them dinner!
Feed the poor buggers! I imagine the bewildered child who’s been given a mouldy orange in his lunch box for the last month is bloody starving!
And do make up your mind Face: is the love you feel for your children an ethereal and beautiful dream or do you want to scream red-eyed witchy fierceness at them – or both?
Having declared that your love for them is stronger than any harm they can do themselves, I find it disconcerting that the little puke-worms want to do harm to you – i.e. make pillows using your hair? I can only imagine what you do for fun in your family: self portraits using your own discarded toenails? Sculpting with ear-wax? or using each other as pieces of furniture and re-enacting the Tottenham riots in your lounge?
I am also extremely concerned that she signs her posts FatW or FatWah (more schizoid behaviour there) – not sure if I’d want to be named after a religious vendetta. Enough said about that as I don’t want to get all bombed and shot for daring to mock a non-existent deity.
WordPress is a technological geek-house made of binary and wires – it’s no good writing letters to mother nature on here: as far as I’m aware, she doesn’t have a blog and if you stand around waving ‘yellow
cheery waves, like a clutch of daffodils’ for too long, you may find yourself posting from a padded cell with only a tight jacket for company and having to type with your nose. That said, it’s just possible this is your idea of heaven and may be the next stage in therapy following your foray into the world of toenail art.
Dear face, a blog is not a public diary, unless you really want to wash your dirty pants in the town square? Must we all be forced to see the unexpurgated skid marks of your mind? A little editing and some forethought would not go amiss!
Panda says: Next time you wish to air your grubby laundry, place the knickers in an envelope and send them to PO Box Panda. I will pay you just enough to cover your children’s counselling bill!