Thursday, April 27, 2006


Until about thirty seconds ago, I don't actually think the word blisslessness existed. It does now, because I've written it down.

Words don't have to be in any dictionary to exist, you just have to commit them to paper, and as if by magic, there they are, brought into existence by YOU!

I was inspired by Brian and his post A Bliss Shared Is A Bliss Doubled to ride my bike on my usual dog walking route, taking the dogs with me, naturally. I went out into the garage and saw my bicycle, not caked in dust nor covered in cobwebs, but obviously ignored and told it that it was going to have a new lease of life.

I went back into the garden, had a fag, got my camera from the kitchen table and went back into the garage to take the above photograph. I didn't think it was a very tasteful shot, so I undid the garage door in order to take the bike out and photograph it in the sunshine. I flipped open the door, sat on my bike... Christ! The tyres are flat! They didn't look flat, and they still don't. I'm not that fat, surely!?!? I guess they're just very rigid or thick and don't collapse from the weight of the bike alone. The weight of a human being, and they're like pancakes.

So, the bike ride is off.

I was going to take the camera with me and include some photographs I took along the route (why do Americans say row't and I say root?). That's not now going to happen.

I'll go along to Halfords or something similar tomorrow and buy a new bicycle lock and a tyre pump! I actually wrote pimp there. Oops, there goes a Freudian slip. Army of lovers on a mission, forty years of desert trips.

Still on the subject of words, when I was a kid, and always worrying about spelling (I don't give a fuck these days) I made the difference between dessert and desert, thus: You can have two portions of dessert, hence the two Ss.

Isn't that ridiculous?

And some words which phased me, I'd either turn into pictures or say phonetically: License became Lick En Seh.

So, anyway, no bliss for me, only blisslessness. And a blisslessness shared is a blisslessness doubled.

I'll have to do something fabulous now to make up for it.

I intend to pour custard all over myself and eat it off with the aid of Jaffa Cakes. Damn, we're right out of jaffa cakes.


Brian said...

Well, I'm glad I almost inspired you to get on the bike.

And as for the question of "route," here's what I can tell you. The pronunciation tends to be provincial.

For instance, I grew up in rural central Wisconsin. It was common to here someone say that their address was "Rural Route (root) One." But, as you noted, row't is a more common pronunciation.

Now, tell me: when you open a can of Coke, what are you drinking? In Wisconsin, I drank a can of soda. In Minnesota, it's a can of pop. In Wisconsin, I drank from a bubbler. In Minnesota, I drink from a water fountain. It's odd, especially given that the two states border one another.

Minge said...

Pop and water fountain. Though, truth be said, in most of Scotland, you'll hear people say juice. Having said that, on the west coast, I've heard people call it ginger.

Some people in England call water from the tap "corporation pop."

Blog Off said...

you're DEAD butch, these days hen! First DIY and now you're hanging around in Halfords? Whit's happenin'?

Minge said...

I had a frontal lobotomy.

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