So my scheme failed! How could it fail?!!! It was the perfect plan to destroy the Vole but it failed. FAILED!!!!
It's because I said I love trees isn't it? You didn't believe me did you? I don't blame you. Who could love trees? All they do is just fucking stand there. They are just trumped-up broken lampposts.
No. I am not some wet-indie loving stalkette.
I am the Anti-Vole!
I am the Anti-Vole. I am the vinyl smasher. I am the tree-hugger mugger. I am the Uppal-watch watcher. I am the forest burner. The de-cycler. The dolphin eater. The Clarkson cheerer. The slow loris smasher. The Guardian twister. The folk heckler. The Thatcher lover. The bike kicker. The Norway nuker. I am the fear that hides beneath the beds of the liberal middle classes...
I am the Right.
I am the Gnashing Mole.
Friday, 19 November 2010
Thursday, 18 November 2010
Doing the decent thing...
It has come to my attention that people (idiots) might think that I am a real person, stalking a real (anonymous) university lecturer.
Can I assure you this is not the case.
I was just amusing myself between periods of headbutting a computer while trying to write. I mean you liberals no harm.
Is this the end for The Gnashing Mole?
Can I assure you this is not the case.
I was just amusing myself between periods of headbutting a computer while trying to write. I mean you liberals no harm.
Is this the end for The Gnashing Mole?
Reader, will you marry me?
I have my first follower, and it is him!
I knew this was meant to be.
I will celebrate with a glass of lo-fi. Lo-fi is a cocktail I made up myself. One of my Vole cocktails.
It is one shot of raspberry vodka, one shot of white rum, sugar syrup and a slice of lime in a Collins glass which is then topped up with cranberry juice. I make myself one on evenings when I feel closer to the Vole because it is deep red and very sweet, just like my true love's heart.
One of my hobbies is to make cocktails and recipes that are influenced by my love, my Vole. Have you ever noticed that Vole is an anagram of love?
I have.
I have noticed a lot
to you, sweet Vole x
I knew this was meant to be.
I will celebrate with a glass of lo-fi. Lo-fi is a cocktail I made up myself. One of my Vole cocktails.
It is one shot of raspberry vodka, one shot of white rum, sugar syrup and a slice of lime in a Collins glass which is then topped up with cranberry juice. I make myself one on evenings when I feel closer to the Vole because it is deep red and very sweet, just like my true love's heart.
One of my hobbies is to make cocktails and recipes that are influenced by my love, my Vole. Have you ever noticed that Vole is an anagram of love?
I have.
I have noticed a lot
to you, sweet Vole x
Stalking Stalking Stalking
Some of you may recognise, or at least see the influence in, my chosen pseudonym.
I first met the gorgeous Vole two years ago. Our trolleys passed in a lonely supermarket. I had tinned soup and cheap wine. He had fresh vegetables and organic meat. And cheap wine. I looked longingly at his innocent eyes and saw, for a second, into his soul. I could see how much it hurt him that large corporations avoid paying tax via an intricate system of money transfers.
One day, the Vole will sweep me away to a little wooden cottage on the Norwegian fjords. I couldn't work up the courage to talk to him that night but I did follow him home, and the next day to his place of work, and later enrolled on his English degree.
He taught us about Shakespeare and poetry by playing us a clip of the popular BBC sitcom Blackadder in which the grumpy protagonist thinks he is homosexual but it turns out that the man he thinks he loves is really a woman. I saw straight away that this was a message to me. That the Vole doesn't love Shakespeare. He loves me.
In our cottage we will read the memoirs of labour politicians and eat cheese. Every four years we will vote socialist together. Our children will be named after Go Betweens' albums.
To Vole, with love, x
I first met the gorgeous Vole two years ago. Our trolleys passed in a lonely supermarket. I had tinned soup and cheap wine. He had fresh vegetables and organic meat. And cheap wine. I looked longingly at his innocent eyes and saw, for a second, into his soul. I could see how much it hurt him that large corporations avoid paying tax via an intricate system of money transfers.
One day, the Vole will sweep me away to a little wooden cottage on the Norwegian fjords. I couldn't work up the courage to talk to him that night but I did follow him home, and the next day to his place of work, and later enrolled on his English degree.
He taught us about Shakespeare and poetry by playing us a clip of the popular BBC sitcom Blackadder in which the grumpy protagonist thinks he is homosexual but it turns out that the man he thinks he loves is really a woman. I saw straight away that this was a message to me. That the Vole doesn't love Shakespeare. He loves me.
In our cottage we will read the memoirs of labour politicians and eat cheese. Every four years we will vote socialist together. Our children will be named after Go Betweens' albums.
To Vole, with love, x
Trees
I saw some trees today. I love trees. Green. Leafy. Full of leaves. So much nicer than all those cars you see. I don't like them at all.
Perhaps I should introduce myself. My name is... ah ha! You don't catch me out that easily. Let's just say I'm in my late thirties. I am female. I love reading.
You can work out the rest as we go along.
Perhaps I should introduce myself. My name is... ah ha! You don't catch me out that easily. Let's just say I'm in my late thirties. I am female. I love reading.
You can work out the rest as we go along.
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