Wednesday, December 30, 2009

Post-Yule Pre-Lang-Syne Titivations Of Wherewithal

It’s time to reflect. To assess. To weigh up. Like a woman with one tit bigger than the other trying to squeeze them both into a cleverly padded bra ironed by a fastidious Libran. Because you get them sometimes, those uneven body parts, especially if you’re a man of a certain age. And that’s what we’re all doing now. Juggling, juggling, juggling the mammaries of our hopes, fears and wishes into a workable factotum of resolution as we stand on the arbitrary threshold of another 52-week long onslaught of nonsense.*

* If you think that’s ridiculous, I nearly went with balls, but they don’t make bras for uneven scrotums and that would have ruled out the fastidious Libran gag.

This time last year, the future looked so, so different. Way more doom and gloom, as I recall. And no Susan Boyle to cheer us on our way with her sublimely disturbing warblings. Just Obama and Jacko. Sigh

Regular visitors to this blog will know that at the end of 2008, I fancied striding out into the darkness of the Noughties’ penultimate offering with the swoosh of a drainpipe trouser over a Twist Again leg (if you’re an irregular visitor, check for lumps — it could be the milk chocolate almond you thought you’d lost down the back of the sofa on Boxing Day). But it didn’t quite turn out that way. If anything, 2009 has been something of a backfoot year for me (that’s like a Bigfoot year, only without the Yetis) — a muted affair, a re-tread, a time of spectres.

But now I come galloping to the end (on a donkey! I demand a donkey!), I find myself weeks away from completing my novel (yes, I know it’s been weeks for months on end, but unless I contract some debilitating plague-2-Go, I reckon it’s the final furlong this time) — oh, and a freelance writing project to die for.

Striding into the darkness is all well and good but this year I’m minded to toss a few fireballs about the place to clear the obfuscating mist. That’s what’s needed, I think, to straighten out fate’s cruel brassiere. I’m no great believer in Yin and Yang — their range of instant noodles tastes like cack — but in a swings-and-roundabouts Universe, what goes around comes around, they say. And I certainly feel like I’m coming round at the moment...


sylvia said...

You filled my head with visions of things-better-left-unseen but then you made up for it:

I find myself weeks away from completing my novel ...and a freelance writing project to die for.

Hooray! Shall we hereby declare that 2010 is the Year of the Whirl?

pjd said...

Ah, a delightful romp through your Wonderland of words, discontinuous imagery, and twisted metaphor.

I especially enjoyed how you used the fireballs to circle back round to the opening. Subtle, but explosive.

Whirlochre said...

That would be nice.


subtle, but explosive

You should have been here an hour or so after I finished my Christmas feast. It was like my arse had become a transdimensional gateway for otherworldly odours...

Bernita said...

Now just why do I feel compelled ( yes, compelled) to assert that I'm a Libran but that no one irons bras, padded or otherwise?
Whirl, you are a dear delight. Please, more fireballs from your hot pants. They keep my literal-ati on even keel.
Good fortune to you, ten fold.

Robin S. said...

Sign me on for Libran as well, Whirl, but fastidious has never been a word I'd use about me. Obsessive, yes. Fastidious about said obsession, no. More running around said obsession like a crazy woman, whipping the project into shape six ways from Sunday but rarely keeping a clean record of what I've done or where I stand. Maybe the Librans you know possess powers I've never been able to harness. (That kind of thing has sure happened before...)

Anyway, good luck with 2010! Looks like I'll be joining you, if my runaround sessions with my novel hold any ultimate long-term wrap-it-up meaning (and they'd damn well better after all of this work).

The freelance project sounds intriguing!

Scarlet Blue said...

You've filled my imaginings with hope.
Have a very Happy New Year!!!

Kerrie said...

I am an irregualr visitor in oh so many ways, who is now wondering where I may purchase one of those bras?
You have left me feeling 2010 wey hey !!!

Whirlochre said...

Always glad to discuss bras and pants with you, Bernita. And I realise I'm at least a couple of posts behind over at yours. I'll be by in the next couple of days. Meanwhile, good fortune to you also.

I feel like a leech that works on Librans rather than blood. All we need now is McKoala and I think I have the set.
On the WIP front — last one past the finishing line is a nancy.

And to you, too, missus.

The great thing about 2010 is that it hasn't happened yet — though bras are clearly a big hit and may feature heavily on this blog in the months to come.

McKoala said...

*reads the comments with a growing sense of unease* *rushes for birth certificate* *double, triple checks* *calls Grandma Haggis for additional verification* *she swears no drugs were available in those days, and hence no errors in time recording of the birth of Baby Haggis, destined to grow into the wondrous McK*

Whirl, put on the leech hat. I am a Libran.

I'll join you on the race to the checkered flag. Mine's due a last read and tweak then hopefully it will be wafting its way out into the world on the benificent silken wings of email.

sylvia said...

OK I'm scared now. This is uncanny!

Bernita said...

What do we have here? A League of Librans?

Robin S. said...

Wow - Librans aplenty in the world of Whirl! You lucky son.

McKoala said...

Perhaps it's because our endless optimism means we give him the benefit of the doubt when it comes to sanity?

Whirlochre said...

Great news. About the WIW, I mean. I think you'll beat me to it, though.

Uncanny how? When I wrote this I inserted a REGULAR chip...

Isn't a group of Librans a lyric?

That's one way of looking at it...

And summary justice based on idle whim?

Whirlochre said...

Oh, look — a song about Librans...