Tag Archives: like

Need for Speed

My name is Denise (hello) and I like to go fast.

I am not in a rush.

I am not stressed.

I’m not trying to save time.

If I am walking for the sake of walking, I do not go fast. But if I am on my way somewhere, I like to go fast and in long, cadenced steps.

Don’t tut when I run for the metro. Don’t ask me why I’m out of breath. It’s not that difficult to understand. Mr Bugatti-Veyron does not drive the fastest car in the world because he’s in a hurry. He just likes to go fast (and has lots of money and possible erection problems (joke, Mr Bugatti!! Please can I have a lift to the the shops?)). Continue reading


My Mate, Marmite?

Marmite with a touch of Champagne, a ghastly marriage of French and English

I completely contradict the Marmite maxim.

I do not love it, I do not hate it. I kind of like it from time to time.

I’m not sure this constitutes the sort of basic, polarised reaction one is supposed to have. I am firmly on the Marmite fence. I can’t even enter the Marmite website. Continue reading

Bracket Oh Bracket! (I heart you.)

Semi-colons are for show-offs (or is it just me that feels smug when I use one?), ampersands are for the idle (exaggeration?), but brackets (you guessed it) are brilliant.

I’m a somewhat excessive user of the bracket; maybe because I’m too rational, maybe because I have a minuscule attention span. (This last sentence should make a great deal more sense later if all goes according to plan.)

Sometimes I put whole sentences in brackets (as above), sometimes I place just one word in brackets (chipmunk) and sometimes I use brackets inside of brackets (this is just an example (don’t read this to your audience if you are reading it out loud (but if you’re reading it in your head, go back to the beginning and say it out loud instead))). I once used eleven sets of brackets within each other, had to lie down for ten minutes, then spent the next four days coming to terms with what I’d done (I never said there were no drawbacks to the bracket). Continue reading

Without You…

Dear Butter,
Yesterday you ran out on me. You were there when I woke up. Then all of a sudden, after breakfast, you were gone. I couldn’t run out into the street to get you; I was still in my pyjamas and there were buttons missing. So I lay down on the floor and cried.
You made everything better, Butter. Continue reading

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