Sunday, 13 June 2010

For sure

I've just spent the last two hours trying to interview myself. I found myself to be uncooperative. Not only did I not think of any questions I was unable to come up with any answers. If this is an elaborate hoax now would be the time to jump out from my cupboard and yell surprise. When the excellent editor of RHUM suggested that I pretend to be interviewed by someone else I very stupidly announced that I would in fact just interview myself. She liked the idea, we said goodbye and hung up our telephones. I spent the next two hours drinking tea and scribbling 'feck' on pieces of paper then rubbing it out again. I love erasable pens.

I took a short break to collect my trousers from the trouser repair lady (an unfortunate incident with a fork, a bottle of wine and gravestone resulted in the need for major repair work) and to buy frozen yoghurt. I am sad to report there is not frozen yoghurt in Slammatown. None. Not even the apricot kind which we all know is the inferior time warp stuck in the 80's froghurt and is therefore no good.

In my quest for the answer to how to interview myself I turned to the most likely source of wisdom, Oprah. Turns out Oprah mostly interviews other people but she does seem to ask everybody to answer a 'what I know for sure' question, so here goes.

What I Know For Sure - in list form:
I do not like dog poo
There is no frozen yoghurt within two kilometres of my house
Oprah has a very big website

It has now been another hour, The Peachettes have blown the fusebox twice by having two heaters on at once and I have pretty much given up on interviewing myself. I phoned Spencer and he offered to interview me for me. That ought to simplify things.


Mitzi G Burger said...

I'm having a vision of those self-interviewing scenes from 'The Commitments' where the young band manager indulges in rock star fantasies. Happy PANing, sounds like fun.

Dale Slamma said...

It was quite like that only I was drinking a pot of tea at the time.