* 200 articles. Two years. Whelk. The best of Upsideclown. Might be reprinted.

You got any ID?

15 September 2003
Why yes, of course, says Victor. Thick people find me intimidating.

"So she says, "You moved my personal things". So I say, "I moved two mouldy sleeping bags and three sun loungers. I didn't know they were yours. I bagged them up very carefully and put them in the garage". So she says (again), "You moved my personal things. But then I'm the outsider here. I'm the Wicked Witch of the West". So I say, "Look, ---, I can really empathise with you. I've also felt isolated. But I've tried very hard to make you feel welcome." So she says, "Well, you see, that's the difference between me and you. I'm so stupid, I don't even know what "empathise" means. Can you tell me, please?" So I say, "I'm not going to apologise for my education". But then he says, "Actually, I can see where she's coming from. I know a lot of people who find you very frightening"".

"Very frightening, eh? So what did you say to that?"

"I said I had to think about it for a few days. So I did."

I'm shocked: she objects to me not for anything I've done, but for who I am. One can and should atone for poor behaviour or mistreatment. But for being oneself? For "very frightening" read "articulate and confident". Then realise, with me, that this is now a BAD THING.

I've begun to question how I have lived so far:

1) What proportion of the people I have met have secretly found me instantly offensive?

2) Do my "roots" no longer apply to me?

3) Am I a complete tit?

I am now faced with a choice:

a) Stay true and resign myself to the company of like-minded people - a narrow cross-section of musos and Oxbridge graduates.

b) Dumb down.

I'm going for the makeover: go blonde, bare my midriff, wear high street fashions like those knee-length pixie boots, have a St Tropez spray-tan, care about whether Ben and J- Lo are on or off.

Thick styling is topped off with the appropriate facial expression, which for now I will simply assume when required (surgery may be necessary for long-term maintenance): a slack jaw, often complimented by the chewing of gum cow eyes optional.

I will say less, and use small words when I do. I will fawn over men who work on market stalls and go stock car racing at weekends. On no account will I mention the doctorate.

Then, another she says to me that I'm reading too much into things, and I should tell everyone else to go fuck themselves. She's right, of course, but I think I might try the thick thing just for a laugh.


This is the fucking archive

Current clown:

18 December 2003. George writes: This List

Most recent ten:

15 December 2003. Jamie writes: Seven Songs
11 December 2003. Dan writes: Spinning Jenny
8 December 2003. Victor writes: Rock Opera
4 December 2003. Matt writes: The Mirrored Spheres of Patagonia
1 December 2003. George writes: Charm
27 November 2003. James writes: On Boxing
24 November 2003. Jamie writes: El Matador del Amor; Or, the Man who Killed Love
20 November 2003. Dan writes: Rights Management
17 November 2003. Victor writes: Walking on Yellow
13 November 2003. Matt writes: Disintermediation
(And alas we lost Neil, who last wrote Cockfosters)

Also by this clown:

8 December 2003. Victor writes: Rock Opera
17 November 2003. Victor writes: Walking on Yellow
27 October 2003. Victor writes: Our Tune
6 October 2003. Victor writes: Sucking face (in a public place)
15 September 2003. Victor writes: You got any ID?
25 August 2003. Victor writes: Blood on the Boulevard
4 August 2003. Victor writes: In (paren)theses
10 July 2003. Victor writes: Island Fling
19 June 2003. Victor writes: Back (back) and forth (and forth)
2 June 2003. Victor writes: 300 clowns, 13 eight-year olds
12 May 2003. Victor writes: The swings and roundabouts of outrageous fortune
21 April 2003. Victor writes: ...just sitting there quietly contemplating suicide
31 March 2003. Victor writes: Victoria
6 March 2003. Victor writes: Relevant experience
17 February 2003. Victor writes: You will eat chips and go nowhere
27 January 2003. Victor writes: A bushy fish for fishy Mr Bush (after Juvenal)
6 January 2003. Victor writes: The Accidental Voyeur
16 December 2002. Victor writes: Gripper goes bang
25 November 2002. Victor writes: Bediquette
4 November 2002. Victor writes: Where have all the spastics gone?
14 October 2002. Victor writes: An Immodest Proposal
23 September 2002. Victor writes: Fastscan masterplan
2 September 2002. Victor writes: Dry Humping Social Club
12 August 2002. Victor writes: Beat the Mongol
22 July 2002. Victor writes: What life is not
1 July 2002. Victor writes: Stupor heroes
6 June 2002. Victor writes: Dry
13 May 2002. Victor writes: Muppet Suite
18 April 2002. Victor writes: gingermingeninja
25 March 2002. Victor writes: Sodomize with Pukka Pies
28 February 2002. Victor writes: Dave's problem
4 February 2002. Victor writes: King of the Aisles
10 January 2002. Victor writes: Here come the decorator gimps.
17 December 2001. Victor writes: Make war, not supper.
22 November 2001. Victor writes: Cough
29 October 2001. Victor writes:
4 October 2001. Victor writes: Green Gauges
10 September 2001. Victor writes: Blind weed
16 August 2001. Victor writes: Snout!
23 July 2001. Victor writes: You're not going to put this in a clown are you?
28 June 2001. Victor writes: What is a droll?
4 June 2001. Victor writes: Burt Pakamak
10 May 2001. Victor writes: Board to Death
12 April 2001. Victor writes: Tricolon with anaphora?
22 March 2001. Victor writes: Point of View
26 February 2001. Victor writes: Goth's Dinner
1 Feburary 2001. Victor writes: Les Miserables
4 January 2001. Victor writes: Flat-packed furniture
14 December 2000. Victor writes: Deliverance
20 November 2000. Victor writes: Bottomry: Exorcising Ghosts
26 October 2000. Victor writes: Body Art
2 October 2000. Victor writes: Disney must die
7 September 2000. Victor writes: Ice-cream in Offworld
14 August 2000. Victor writes: I like sweets that taste of medicine
26 June 2000. Victor writes: I've seen the future, and it's feathered

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