All right, all right, all right you men (and, you lady men, obviously). Hit that very Blog Signal, Mister that there Keith Telly Topping and let us get this latest From The North bloggersiationism update, live and direct from The Stately Telly Topping Manor, into top gear and onto the Interweb for consumption by the From The North massive. So, he did.
So, what - you may well be wondering dear blog fiends - had been going on in the wide wide world since last yer actual Keith Telly Topping blogged for y'all like a bloody big bastard blogging thing? Not much, really. It's reached that time of the year - in Britain, at least - where the only news is that there is no news. Except that it's hot and it's going to be getting hotter before it gets cooler. Because, let's face it, whom amongst us doesn't enjoy the nice glow of twilight?
Anyway, dear blog fiends, a funny thing happened on the way to the Interweb this week. And, the funny thing was as follows: A German, a Brazilian and a Dutchman walked into a bar. To be fair, there would usually be an Englishmen with them. But he's still at the World Cup. Nah, lissun ...
Ho. And, indeed, ho. Of course, that's only going to last until some obscene hour of Saturday night when, this blogger imagines, the ghost of Bjørge Lillelien will be stirring and laughing as Haarland sticks in a hat-trick against a defence without a recognised right back. Probably.
Meanwhile, it appears that, all of a very suddenly, the North American public have fallen rapidly out of love with The Beautiful Game. One can't possibly even begin to imagine why that may have occurred since just a few days earlier, there were seemingly enjoying it the mostest, baby.
In a completely unrelated - oh no, very hot water - story, it has been widely reported that US tariffs on Belgian chocolate are set to sky rocket any day now. This blogger wishes it to be known that he loves Belgian chocolate. If there was a World Cup for chocolate, the Flems would be a shoe-in for the title. I mean, people talk about Swiss chocolate, sure. But this blogger, to be honest, finds Swiss chocolate a bit too milky for The Stately Telly Topping Manor palette. A little bit too ... nice. Too middle of the road. It's the Herb Alpert & the Tijuana Brass of chocolate if you like. Much like the Swiss's 'neutral' stance in geopolitical terms for the vast majority of the last five hundred years, in fact. Now, take the Germans as a counter example. Dark, a hint of bitterness beneath the sweetness, a hint of a strong and unique aftertaste. Their chocolate's quite nice, though.
Still, when all is said and done at least the United States of That There America's hosting of the tournament has been helped by the superb accommodation that country has provided to all visiting players, officials and fans. Except for Iran, obviously.
Anyway, let's get back to where we started - an American, a Columbian and an Egyptian walk into a bar and simultaneously whine about the manifest unfairness of, you know, stuff. The barman looks them up and down and says in a withering manner, 'is this some sort of joke?' Nah, lissun ...
The biscuits in question will, of course, entirely be decided upon by league position. Those in the relegation zone will only be offered McVitie's Digestives from a packet that's already been open for a few days and are starting to go soft; those in the mid-table, you might be lucky and get a Rich Tea or a Hobnob if they're in the top ten. Only those in the Champions League qualification places will get to order from the Waitrose biscuit aisle. Sorry, but it's The Law.
Goddamn annoying things in the world that really gets right on this blogger's tit end: Number seven hundred and forty nine. When you're having breakfast at your local Morrisons café on a Monday morning, order white toast and you get given brown bread instead. This! Will! Not! Stand!
Bloody Hell, dear blog reader, Keith Telly Topping was always fully well aware that the great and sainted John Barry wrote some flamin' sexy tunes back in the day. He wasn't, however, aware that sort of thing was involved. Sssshoking.
Also, dear blog readers should be made fully aware that the finely manicured luscious lawns of The Stately Telly Topping Manor have, recently, been finely manicured once again by Keith Telly Topping's garden-type individual, Young Glenn.
In other news, they really do not want any of them there thirteen-bar-blues and forty years of imaginative use of denim in The Holy City, do they? This blogger can't say he blames them, to be honest. In fact, if Keith Telly Topping were to be asked for an opening on whether Status quo should be 'under threat' at Jerusalem's holiest site, his answer would, likely, be 'I like it. I like it. I la-la-la-like it.'
'So, you reckons there's a market for jewellery coloured like shit, Percy?'
Lovely bubbly ...
Rank stupidity.
Well, indeed ...
'Go on, sister, do 'im.'
As recently as recently, this blogger has, as is his want, met up with his excellent fiend Young Malcolm. For shits and giggles. Food and drink. Malarkey and shenanigans. Curry and chips. And, it was lush in our sights, so it was.
Also this week, this blogger his very self managed to achieve his highest ever Geoguesser score of twenty two thousand ... and a few. This blogger fully realises that there are people who play the game, effectively, professionally, for whom twenty two thousand would be a jolly bad day at the office. But, hey, this blogger confesses he's still merely a beginner at working out where the Hell he is in reality let alone as part of a daily online geography quiz that he's only been doing for eighty days or so. Thus, he'll take the score and celebrate it.
Work, of course, also continues at a genuinely furious pace (interrupted only by the odd day off when this blogger goes out to lunch with a close personal fiend - see above) on this blogger's latest work of considerable artistic merit, Beyond a Vault of Horror: A Study of 70(ish) Further Great* British Tales of ‘Mystery & Suspense’, 1936-1981 (* and not so great). At the time of writing this blogger has reached, more of less, the four-fifths mark in the book in terms of entries on movies that he wishes to cover in his usual idiosyncratic A Vault of Horror style (fifty nine out of seventyish) and with his (entirely self-imposed) wordcount limit for two hundred thousand words still, just about, in sight and, possibly, achievable.
This blogger is also keen to remind all dear blog fiends that Keith Telly Topping's previous Bride of a Vault of Horror: A Book of 72 Great* British** Films of Mystery and Suspense From 1933 to 1986 (* And Not So Great), (** Plus two French, three Italian and one Spanish) will be published later in the year (around September or October to be precise) by those marvellously lovely people at Telos Publishing. As a consequence, it should be up on the publisher's website for pre-order at some stage in the medium-term. And, you can absolutely guarantee that all From The North blog fiends will be kept apprised of exactly when that happens.
And, as we always note at this point in each bloggerisationism update, whilst we all wait - patiently, one hopes - for both of Keith Telly Topping's forthcoming volumes to appear in all good bookshops (some bad ones and some online ones that neglect to pay their share of taxes), it's time for a necessary reminder; should any blog fiends be of a mind to do so, they can always order one, two or all three of this blogger's previous tomes on British horror, SF and fantasy film from the genuinely tremendous, immensely marvellous and utterly fantastic Telos Publishing (available here, here and here). Unless, of course, you already have ordered one, two or all three of them. In which case, this blogger loves you all. You're the greatest collective bloggerisationism fiends that ever there was in all the live-long day and, this blogger, humbly, thanks you for allowing him into your homes.
And, on that bombshell ...
Of course, it's important to remember just exactly what the first rule of 'Ho Club' is.
So, with the From The North news out of the way, therefore, it's time for the From The North weather. And, it seems that someone in America's Midwest is gonna get themselves lucky tonight.
So we end this latest - somewhat shorter than usual From The North bloggerisationism update with a couple of important thoughts for all dear blog readers to bear in mind for future reference. Firstly, when any potentially embarrassing situation presents itself, truth is always the best option.
And finally, dear blog fiends, in the event of any potential social faux pas, this blogger's tip is to carry on regardless as thought nothing whatsoever had happened. Basically, in the hope that no one will be offended enough to mention it.
