Fame at last
At the last London Blogger’s meet up, I get interviewed by a journalist and a few days later an email from the meet up’s organiser arrives to let us know that the article’s due to appear in this morning’s Metro, but there’s none left at the station and I’m wondering if I grab one out of someone’s hands will I get a slap and I decide I probably will, so I wait until I get to Liverpool Street and grab one there and flick through it to see if it’s time for my 15 centimetres of fame and woo hoo, there I am (or at least my name is) in the middle of the paper which is the nearest I’m ever going to get to being a centrefold, then like a complete saddo I go and grab three more copies, who for I don’t know, as I won’t be giving one to my mum because then she will read my blog and then she will tell me off for drinking and swearing.
And as I’m walking to work, I’m wondering if fame will change me and how soon will it be until I’m offered interviews on late night chat shows or maybe even my own chat show and shitloads of cash and there’s a girl walking along carrying a Metro and I resist the temptation to tap her on the shoulder and say “oi, I’m in that” and I’m thinking that as I’m quoted as saying people have said I’m an inspiration, then I’d better inspire myself and do my running commute home, although I am also quoted as saying I decided to give up smoking and run a marathon when at the time, my ambition was simply to get round the block without collapsing in a heap after coughing up a lung.
While I’m at work hoping that the annoying bimbo in the office next door hasn’t read the Metro this morning and developed a sudden interest in jogging blogs and found out that I called her an annoying bimbo, a girl who is also leaving comes over to me and asks if I want to have a joint leaving drinks thing. Uh oh. I was planning on making a quiet exit and would rather have rusty nails hammered underneath my fingernails then spend my lunch hour with some of the annoying fuckwits in here, so I say yeah, great, when? I can’t do Friday and she says on Monday, her last day and I say cool. Bollocks.
I set off for my running commute and as I’m going down Essex Road I pass a pub that has a sign outside saying pizza two for one. FREE PIZZA?! Woo hoo. I must investigate as free pizza sounds almost as good as free alcohol and outside the pub is a man smoking in a wheelchair and it reminds me that on the way to the Post Office this morning there was a man smoking in a wheelchair and it occurred to me that I didn’t think I had seen anyone in a wheelchair smoke before and wondered how he got into smoking and then I wondered why I wondered that and why shouldn’t people in wheelchairs smoke and maybe he started smoking before he was in a wheelchair.
And all the lights are on red this evening so I get back quite quickly and I see the same man walking over the marshes that I saw last time but he didn’t murder me last time so I assume he won’t murder me tonight either and my assumption is correct and I get home without getting murdered. Hurrah.
Stats
Distance: 6.13 miles
Time: 1:07:28
Pace: 11:00 m/m
Calories: 616
Claims to fame: 1
Men smoking in wheelchairs: 2
Leaving drinks arranged: 1
Music
Jesus & Mary Chain
Cardiacs
The Mission
Primal Scream
PJ Harvey
Jamiroquai
Nine Inch Nails
The Cribs
Foo Fighters
Devo
you inspired me to try to run and to try to blog 🙂 cheers!
hey cathy i read about you in the metro yesterday, i was like, “i know domain! i know that name!”
congrats on yr 15 mins of fame 😀
The most famous person i kind of know :).
Nice one.
Bravo!
Years ago the local paper highlighted my blog – and i thought w00t – I’m going to get thousand of hits. Nope.
O well – to be famous is fun even if it is fleeting.
You’ve Changed!
Though they could have used your pic rather than the less attractive lady trying to wear a keyboard 😉
Thanks everyone, I promise not to forget you when I’m rich and even more famous.
And thanks Darrell and welcome to my blog.
Since when do you ‘sip’ beer?
There’s always one…
next stop …. HOLLYWOOD!!!!
Cool article. Keep up the great miles. 🙂
Have you retired at your infamous peak??
No, I’m not slacking. Well, only a little bit. I did actually run on Saturday but haven’t blogged it yet due to being busy pouring boiling water over my hand. Although I have a feeling that’s not going to get me off the hook, seeing as I’ve just typed this.
Wow !!!!
I’ve read about cold showers and baths being good for muscle fatigue and recovery but not boiling hot water so are you pioneering a new therapy and if so then have you also taken to running on your hands and if you have then that must raise some issues with sports bra mechanics???
I quite fancy being a pioneer but am going to try something other than the pouring boiling water on hand pioneerness.
Running on one’s hands would probably negate any bouncy sagging thing but I’m curious to know why you thought of that. Weird. Are you sure your name’s Darrell?
Ha ha! Is it unmanly to wonder at a woman’s boobies???
No, obviously men are born with the “wonder at a woman’s boobies” gene but you remind me of someone but then again whenever I say “weird” he takes it personally so maybe you’re not him but then again it could be a double bluff and you ignored the weird thing just to put me off track. Hmm.
In the words of Twisted Sister, “I am I’m me” as in I am not impersonating someone you already know, though your paranoia is amusing.
To paraphrase Garbage, “I don’t think I’m paranoid” and I’m not the one impersonating someone they’ve never met. Weird. I’m pleased you like me enough to take the piss though.
Nice one C. Do I get to join your jogging/blogging clan when I come down to London? 😉
Of course, I am still talking to mere mortals who don’t get into the Metro. When are you coming down? Have you found somewhere to live yet?
Yep gonna be moving to West Hampstead (which is pretty good for connections to everywhere I want to be). It’s a short run from Hampstead Heath, but reckon I’ve only got enough in the tank to get to the edge of it and then turn back…