Saturday, April 16, 2011

Fishing for compliments

*Worried eyes, glancing feverishly left and right, and then back again. And then back again again*


*Heavy, panicked breathing*


*Rustly, unidentifiable noises*


*Sound of heavy door shutting, then being locked. Then bolted. Then padlocked. Then welded shut. Then plastered over and painted to match the surroundings. Then sticking ivy over it so it looks like it's been like that for years*


And . . . we're safe!


Sorry about that. But I could be in trouble.


It's been some weeks since I posted on The Gravel Farm, and according to scripture, this is in direct breach of a contract that is so binding, so utterly unbreakable, that one does not even have to have signed it for it to be applicable to you. Or even know of it's existence. That's how solid a contract it is.


You start a blog,  and you're in!


One of my unidentifiable sources (a ragamuffin from the notorious street gang, The Bran Eating Regulars)  reported that an agent from The Department of Blogging was seen sniffing around The Gravel Farm. Now obviously, I was dubious, because such agents don't identify themselves, and one must rely on spotting the subtle signs that such a powerful individual can't help but possess.


In this case, the indications that he might be someone to be wary of were the the cape, purple top hat and extra head. Not many people wear a purple top hat.


And so I have prudently taken my source's advice and hidden away for a minute in the shed with a laptop.


It goes without saying that I don't wish to get in trouble with the DoB, because they could revoke my All Areas Pass, which allows me to enter any premises in the world in the name of blogging. They might also get brutal and remove my blogging finger, the one with the big callous.


So, I will post something.


Something momentous. Something to ponder, and to cause outcry, to challenge, to make the most hardened reader consider the ramifications of what they have just perused.


I saw this fish for sale the the other day:






I mean, what the hell is it?


A lumpfish? A dulltail? A depression loach?


It was in amongst the exotic denizens of our local aquaria emporia, where jewel-like flashes compete for your attention with multi-coloured swarms of piscine loveliness. There it sat, and I didn't even know fish could sit, but it did, like a an old sausage roll with eyes, gently swaying in the wake of other, more lively fish.


It took me moment to realise it wasn't actually dead.


I bet if it saw it's reflection, it'd just go and drown itself.


Er . . .


Anyway, it was also on offer, which can't add to any self-esteem it already doesn't have, but there still weren't many takers. It would hardly brighten up an aquarium, would it, and unless it has some really useful trait like producing caviar or helping do cryptic crosswords, then I fail to see the attraction.


Still, I am no expert in fish and/or the collection thereof, so perhaps I'm missing something. I mean, if looks were anything to go on, we'd stay away from cod, and steer completely clear of monkfish, two of the most delicious fishies to ever grace a griddle.


Or maybe it's one of those subjective, eye of the beholder situations, and I'm just not subjective enough.


I suppose it could be a cunning marketing ruse whereby a large section of society has been woefully persuaded that something intrinsically worthless is actually special and deserving of both comment and attention. It's like the Paris Hilton of fish. Only fatter.

20 comments:

  1. Look out for the blogging mafia.... They send the boys round with instructions to rough up your hair or keyboard...or something. Im thinking in your case we..er, they could let this one slide.
    We have a fish a bit like that one in the ocean hereabouts.. We call it the 'Shitty' cause it's full of tiny bones, sharp spines and tastes of tar (should you be desperate enough to attempt eating it) It's bloody awful and is used only for grinding to burly better fish. There has however been a cunning marketing ruse whereby a large section of society has been woefully persuaded that something intrinsically worthless is actually special and deserving of the plate. I must feel sorry for those poor buggers... I cooked one once when my daughter caught it and was determined (dispute my best efforts)to eat it.. The smell was bad enough but in the end even the dog refused to eat it...it lay there in his bowl for days until it eventually smelled worse that when I cooked it and I was forced to bury it in the yard...

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  2. Fish like that make me kind of start to doubt Darwin a bit.

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  3. Maybe it's like an ugly-duckling type fish, that will grow up to be a beautiful err... no sorry, I don't know the names of any beautiful fish.
    A pleasure to read you sir.

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  4. Tempo - I'm really hoping the shitty fish is real and you haven't made it up to mess with my mind!

    SkylersDad - It's sort of devolved, I think.

    Sharon - Ta. Is there a peacock fish? There's a butterfly fish, I know that.

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  5. i daont know where to start, sugar! i'm still stunned by your revelation about blogging police! forget that fish, it'll give your children nightmares! xoxox

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  6. That looks like the legendary Carp of Despondency to me.

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  7. Savvy - Yeah, and not a word about who blogs about the blog police either. power mad, I tells ya!

    Tony Van Helsing - It's just waiting to be caught by the Angler of Hope, cooked by the Chef of Fate, before being pushed to the side of the Plate of Optimism next to the Condiment of Rejection.

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  8. Oh it's real alright.. The real name is the Southern Trumpeter. they turn up in Spring and stay around in plague proportions until the fishing season is over in Autumn.
    Ive sent you a couple in the mail, look out for a package dripping water and making a honking sound.. (trumpeting)

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  9. You are a great blogger. There. That's a compliment. Oh, wait... you weren't actually fishing for a compliment for yourself, were you? Ugly fish. Afraid I can't comment on it as I know absolutely nothing about aquarium fish (or much of any others).

    But do try to post more often or I'll have to call the Blogger Tip Line and turn you in for the reward.

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  10. You know the saying, 'beaten around the head with the ugly stick?' Well, you're looking at it.

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  11. I wonder how many dead blogs there are out there.

    Holy mackeral, I'm glad you finally posted something.

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  12. Douglas - Ha, I'll take compliments any way I can! Thank you.

    tennysoneehemingway - Indeed. It has a face like a melted welly.

    Wow, that was awkward - Ta. And that's a good point. I've come across some really good blog posts recently, only to find the blog inactive for ages, presumably permanently.

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  13. You've gone and posted the photo of a fish that is only a few mutations away from crawling on land and breathing air. I hope you are pleased with yourself.

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  14. Eric - At least it's got a plan.

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  15. Ha ha ha!! "The Bran Eating Regulars". Jules, the moment I CAN, I am using that phrase.

    It's -- well, it's delicious.

    Anyone wanting to revoke your blogging rights will have to go through me first. Your blog is the happy place I go whenever life gets unpleasant. It's completely gotten me off street drugs.

    Pearl

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  16. You bought that fish, didn't you? (Ahhh....the ....Lumpsucker of Melancholy? It's the best I've got.

    The blogging police have been sniffing around here too. I may have to go undercover.

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  17. Pearl - let me know if you get a blank look! And thanks for your protection, although sorry for spoiling your habit!

    Vic - There's always room in my shed, if you know the secret code. It's a knock on the door and the password is "Hello?"

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  18. That was great. Really, that's all I have to say. Liked this, though - "I bet if it saw its reflection, it'd just go drown itself."

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  19. Hillary - Thank you and welcome along!

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