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Ambition October 24, 2006

Posted by BiB in Uncategorized.
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I may not have been aiming very high, but I did once claim that it was my dream to own a dishwasher – human or clockwork – and thus render myself utterly redundant. In fact, becoming the superfluous man par excellence wasn’t strictly what I was aiming for; indeed, I might even have aimed to replace the washing-up, which I seem to spend about 90% of my life doing – the other 10% is spent on interaction with eAsyjet – with some other chore, or maybe even a job. No. But I’ve been known to blame many a misfortune on my almost constant proximity to the kitchen sink. Various aches and pains. Bad skin. Allergies. Poor knowledge of German.

So imagine my excitement! I am, this very second, sitting in, waiting for some – I’m hoping – rough, working-class, middle-aged men to deliver me a clockwork dishwasher that the Russian has deemed it fit to purchase. Actually, I’m not very excited at all. In fact, I couldn’t be less excited. Even if the deliverers do turn out to be bits of handsome rough, the four seconds that they spend in the flat will be a chore, and it’s a chore having to sit here and wait for them when I could be outdoors smoking and having lascivious thoughts.

But I suppose the real unexcitement is caused not by the worry that I really will have become an utterly superfluous man, but rather the dissatisfaction one feels at almost any desire coming to fruition. Perhaps, rather as with jiggy-jiggy, there’s the exciting build-up, then the moment of intense pleasure and then the thought, “Bugger. It’s over. What next?” Except I seem to have gone cold even before the intense moment of pleasure on this occasion. Ambition interruptus.

So I need a new ambition. Something new to strive for. To look forward to. To aim at. I’ve got a couple of ideas up my sleeve. So far, it’s a neck-and-neck race between paying off my debts and trying to prove whether the Russian has any internal organs at all. All recommendations greatly appreciated and eagerly considered.

Comments»

1. Wyndham - October 24, 2006

Hooray – you’re back!

Washing-up has become one of the great joys of my life recently because it is an end in itself – washing-up success is easy to judge and it never, ever ends. We have a dishwasher but I prefer not to use it, although Veronica has lately begun to complain that I leave an odd film on everything when I make hay with the scrubber, which may be her way of encouraging me to use the dishwasher more. Where’s the satisfaction in that?

By the way, what does “trying to prove whether the Russian has any internal organs at all,” mean? Am I being naive?

2. David (TEFL Smiler) - October 24, 2006

You can borrow one of my ambitions if you want. They’re entirely doable. (Well, the first one is.)

For many years I’ve dreamt of getting a large, freshly baked granary loaf; cutting off a thin crust; and then – slowly and carefully – sticking my hand in and gently pulling out the insides.

Another ambition is to swim in a swimming pool of warm-ish Cadbury’s Dairy Milk – not as liquidy as water, but not so thick that it would suck me down to the bottom.

I dread to think what incorrect assumptions people might conclude about me based on these purely innocent ambitions!

I’ve never done them, by the way, as then I’d have to find something else to live for. ;-)

3. BiB - October 24, 2006

Wynders, it’s arrived! Obviously I won’t touch it till the Russian’s done all the preliminaries, like plumbing it in and removing the polystyrene and doing something with salt. One old gent contributed nothing to the delivery, though did give me a pen to sign my acknowledgement that the event had taken place, whilst a young, quite-rough-and-handsome one carried the thing all by himself on his back up two flights of stairs. But he forgot to notice me standing seductively and sexily and homosexually when he put the thing down and wandered sweatily back out of my life. (I too am known to wash up incorrectly on occasion.)

Just wondering if the Russian is also clockwork or if he may actually possess a heart. I think long-term relationships tend to move seamlessly into organlessness at some indefinable moment (though perhaps it’s the almost 7-year mark, actually).

David, you kinky bastard. Fisting bread! What do you plan to do with the scooped-out bits? Hurl them away, or put them in a suitable recipe? They might go nicely with the chocolate, actually…

4. Ed Ward - October 24, 2006

He could fill the innards with onion soup like they do in Weimar…

I think dishwashers are appliances of Satan. I was forced to buy one in my apartment from hell (in Wedding, actually), and I found that it was only good when I had a lot of folks over for dinner, which, in that hole, I never did. You can’t wash pots in it, so they’re still in the sink. And if I waited til it was full, I didn’t have one single clean dish anywhere in the house.

Then, after three or four uses, the stuff I was washing off was hiding somewhere way the hell in there and beginning to stink. So I bought some cleaner somewhere and then just gave up on it. If you’re a family of six, it’s not a bad idea. Otherwise…

Although the redundancy experiment is probably going to be interesting for a minute or two.

5. David (TEFL Smiler) - October 24, 2006

I used a dishwasher for the first (and only) time when I was house-sitting for some friends in April. I kept on forgetting to turn it on, and then I had to open it up to take out things like kitchen knives to hand-wash so that I could use them again. In other words, it became more of a storage space for dirty utensils. Don’t let that happen to you!

Damn, I feared someone might suggest fisting! Not at all – ‘gentle, tender scooping’, I’d call it. And surely that’s purely innocent?

(Oh God, I’ve just realised it could also be extreme kinkiness. Let’s not go there!)

6. BiB - October 24, 2006

Ed, I’m also secretly wondering whether my washing-up days are really over. It might all turn out to be a faggot above a load. I’ve just been looking through the fantastically complicated instructions. In German. It appears that every item we own is unsuitable for machine-washing. Do they double up as washing-machines if we take out all of the rack bits? Hope your North America crusade is being a success and that you’re not dreading your return.

David, in a former life, I also shared a flat with a dishwasher. The ex suggested it be used as a cupboard.

…and gentle fisting is still pretty kinky.

7. Mangonel - October 25, 2006

Can’t bear washing up. If it won’t survive the dishwasher, I don’t want it. So I get enough kitchen knives to last.

D(TS) – why on earth don’t you do that thing with the bread? Consider the cost / pleasure ratio! And then tell us ALL about it.

Dear BiB, how nice to have you back. (Glad you liked my post.) If you ever get the dishwasher working, you could sit on or lean against it – I hear wonderful things about that.

No inspiration on the ambition thing, sorry – most days, getting to the end of the day alive, clean and fed is enough for me. I pray your horizons are broader.

8. Bowleserised - October 25, 2006

BiB – what have you always wanted to do? Think of things you really thought you’d do when you were a child or teenager. ie write a novel, walk the Hundu Kush

Dave – I once read an article in Marie Claire about a terribly sweet married couple who, of a weekend, would pack the kids off to Grandma’s, buy a trolley-full of fresh baked bread, strew it all over the bed and roll around in it having hott sex.
I can think of nothing more adorably English and harmless.

Ed – a friend once served curry in sawn in half white loaves, and it was good. Hot, but good. I’ve also had whatever that soup is they ladel up on Fisherman’s Wharf, served in sourdough and doubtless fresh from the freezer. That wasn’t bad either, but then again I can be pretty shameless about food.

9. Marsha Klein - October 25, 2006

We went to buy a fridge-freezer some years ago and came back with a dishwasher instead. We then let it sit, in its packaging, for about 6 months while we faffed about trying to find a joiner to re-jig the kitchen so we could plumb the thing in. During this time I fretted that we had bought an appliance which we would NEVER USE! About 2 days after it was finally installed, I wondered how I had ever managed without it and, don’t worry, the time you spend washing up now will henceforth be occupied loading/unloading your dishwasher and putting everything away.

As far as ambitions go, I’ve wondered recently if it is actually possible to die of boredom (not really an ambition, more of an ever-present possibility and one which I’d quite like not to fulfil). I do have a, currently unfulfilled, ambition to walk down the street, dressed only in my pyjamas during the Edinburgh Festival just to see if anyone notices which, I suspect, they wouldn’t. Not much of an ambition really.

10. leon - October 25, 2006

“I’ve dreamt of getting a large, freshly baked granary loaf; cutting off a thin crust; and then – slowly and carefully – sticking my hand in and gently pulling out the insides”

– I have actually done this. It was only in the course of cooking a meal, though.

That Marie Claire couple really do bring a whole new dimension to the phrase “crusty roll”

11. BiB - October 25, 2006

Mangonel, I’m not addicted to the dishwasher yet – the Russian is unenthusiastically unloading it after its very first go as I type – although it does heat up nicely so I’ve warmed myself up against it without burning myself, whih is what happens when I snuggle up to a radiator.

B., good idea. I haven’t had a travel fantasy for ages, which I put down to being 90 and never wanting to travel further than the end of the street again AND the fact that I go to the UK about once a day these days. Well, Machu Picchu was my childhood travel fantasy, though Peru feels awfully far away now. Jerusalem’s high on the list, and may be more manageable. (Fuck. Debts.) (Not fuck debts.)

MK, go for it, though you’ll now have to wait for months, but that should only have you champing at the bit when the time comes. I’ve befriended boredom as an emotion. I think I can do my best mulling when bored stiff.

Leon, put David out of his misery and tell him whether bread-fisting is the way forward. Did you fist the right type of bread?

12. Mangonel - October 25, 2006

I wasn’t thinking about the change in temperature so much as the (hissed whisper) vibration!

13. BiB - October 25, 2006

But isn’t it regular washing-machines which shudder on the spin-cycle? To be honest, I’m not sure shuddering is much good to us boys, unless I’m missing out on a whole area of jiggy-jiggy which has been kept secret from me. And I don’t think dishwashers spin. And now the shuddering washing-machine is wedged between the dishwasher and the sink, though I suppose I could sit on it. Both the Russian and I are very disappointed that the dishwasher doesn’t have a porthole, like the washing-machine. It would be much the most entertaining thing on TV. I worked with hooligan teenagers in St. Petersburg for a while and they were never quieter than when we washed their clothes. They could sit and watch a whole go without stealing anything or killing anyone. Miraculous!

14. lukeski - October 26, 2006

I want to own a Blankety Blank chequebook and pen. I am waiting with bated breathe for one to appear on Ebay…

15. leon - October 26, 2006

Two types of bread – one granary, one white. It did have a certain satisfaction attached.

16. BiB - October 26, 2006

Lukeski, at last, I can Jim’ll-fix-it-ly make someone’s dream come true. Get in touch with Wyndham. He and Tel are thick as thieves. He’ll have you sorted with a Blankety Blank chequebook and pen in no time.

Leon, David, I’m off to the supermarket. I’ve got me a new fetish.

17. Bowleserised - October 27, 2006

BiB – vibration works for boys too, but I think you’re right about the dish washer. It’s the washing machine you need to pervert.
Let me know if you find any soft, English style bread. I bet it’s not the same with vollkorn brot and four kinds of seeds.

18. David (TEFL Smiler) - October 27, 2006

Leon’s inspired me. Next time I’m in the UK I might give it a go. After all, I’ll still have the chocolate swimming ambition.

Bowleserised has just said what I was thinking – German bread’s delicious, but mind you don’t catch your finger on a random vegetable. Glad you’re planning to try it out, though – let us know how it goes.

19. BiB - October 27, 2006

David, I recommend you kill two birds with one stone and do the fisting in the chocolate swimming-pool. Is there an adult version of Jim’ll Fix It that we can get on to?

B., I’m going to stalk earthquake zones relentlessly from now on to see what I’m missing by being shuddered to high heaven.

20. lukeski - October 28, 2006
21. BiB - October 28, 2006

Lukeski, fantastisch! David, shall we go live on British TV for a bout of double bread-fisting?

22. Bowleserised - October 28, 2006

Well, don’t go fisting German bread. You’ll injure yourselves. Always practise safe bread sex.

23. BiB - October 29, 2006

David, B. has made me think that, in the interests of health and safety, we perhaps ought to go and be tested for coeliac and other wheat-related allergic reactions. It would be terrible to go blotchy under Jim’s steely gaze.

24. David (TEFL Smiler) - October 30, 2006

I’m thinking that losing one’s bread-fisting virginity ought to be done in private and probably alone – I certainly couldn’t bear making a mess of things on live TV. Besides, wouldn’t the whole episode be rather ‘seedy’? ;-)

25. BiB - October 30, 2006

I suppose you’re right. In which case, I shall look out for revelations on your blog, either in its current or future incarnation.

26. bowleserised - October 30, 2006

David – that’s the yeast that can happen.

27. BiB - October 30, 2006

Fuck, fuck, trying to think how to get an ‘honest crust’ pun in.

28. David (TEFL Smiler) - October 30, 2006

Doughn’t!

(Sorry, I’m not sure if that comment kneaded to be written!)

29. BiB - November 1, 2006

Bugger, can’t do puns! Ham? Fist?


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