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Blind Eye

Stuart MacBride lives in the North East of Scotland, where he writes gruesome crime novels and grows gruesome potatoes.

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Stuart's been shortlisted for the third year running in the Theakstons Crime Writers Novel of the Year 2009. Why not make him feel better about getting his bum kicked in 2007 and 2008 by voting or his third book, BROKEN SKIN?

Upcoming events
14 Jul:
CONSTANT READER BOOKSHOP - SYDNEY
15 Jul:
AVID READER BOOKSHOP - BRISBANE
16 Jul:
FULLERS HOBART BOOKSHOP - HOBART, TASMANIA
17 - 19 Jul:
CRIME AND JUSTICE FESTIVAL - MELBOURNE
CHANGE OF VENUE20 Jul:
MELVILLE CITY LIBRARY - WESTERN AUSTRALIA

23 - 36 Jul:
THEAKSTONS OLD PECULIER CRIME WRITING FESTIVAL - HARROGATE
15 Aug:
MACBRIDE & GUTHRIE TALK BOLLOCKS - EDINBURGH INTERNATIONAL BOOK FESTIVAL

Monday, June 09, 2008

Double Happiness Wholesale Ltd.

To start with I was going to post a long an introspective ramble about tone and pace and the nature of the Logan McRae books, and then I thought, sod it: no one wants to read about that. And then I thought, bugger off, it's my blog, I'll post about what I bloody well like! What's the point in having a blog if you can't splurge on a self-indulgent introspective ramble from time to time? And then I wondered why I kept a blog at all. And then I remembered the whole point was so I could poke fun at John Rickards, and I hardly ever do that any more. Which is strange when you think about what an easy target he is, what with being short and smelling of whelks the whole time... Then I thought I'd berate you all for not wishing Grendel a happy birthday when she turned 4 on Sunday. And then I realised I'd kind of lost the whole chain of though and went for a cup of tea instead. And by the time I got back I'd forgotten what I was going to post about in the first place.

So then I thought I'd write an Ian-Rankin-themed rant. Not about Mr Rankin, or even at him, but about the media's habitual obsession with trying to find a replacement for the poor sod. But I couldn't be bothered as it was going to involve getting all riled up and indignant and calling people cock-weasels. Which probably wasn't going to be a good career move.

So then I thought I'd post a response to the only review to spot the fact that FLESH HOUSE owes a lot to the horror genre (possibly because I used to read a fair bit of it when I was little), but that just led back to the whole 'who cares what you think' feedback loop of shouting at the keyboard.

Trendy and Seaweedy too!As a result of all this internal dialogue and internal struggle, I have decided instead to post about the Trendy Seaweed Rice Snack I bought for She Who Must Be Indulged On The Date Of Her Getting Hitched To Me Who Is A Bearded Sex God And Dead Good With Words And Stuff.

Yes, I pushed the boat out and bought her a bag of Trendy Seaweed Rice Snack (Teriyaki Seasoning Flavoured). According to the bag "You can enjoy not only the delight delicious flavour, but also the greatness of natural mineral benefits from the sea in every single bite." What more could you ask for? Seriously, when did you last eat something with a delight delicious flavour?

OK, so they look a little bit like deep-fried worms, but they're trendy - it says so on the label and I know that's got to be true, because they're 'manufactured and distributed by: Friendship Co. Ltd.' of Bangkok. The Friendship Co. Ltd. wouldn't lie to us, so it has to be true. Not only that, this bag of trendy delight deliciousness was imported by none other than 'Double Happiness Wholesale Ltd.'

How cool is that? Deep-fried-worm-looking rice snacks that are delight delicious, made by Friendship Co. Ltd. and imported by Double Happiness Wholesale Ltd. how could we possibly go wrong?

There's something deeply satisfying about a company that calls itself Double Happiness Wholesale Ltd. -- clearly they're head and shoulders above those bunch of shits at Single Happiness Wholesale Ltd. clue's in the name, isn't it? It's a shame that this isn't a trend we'll see catching on over here, naming companies in as chummy and cuddly a manner as possible. BP could change it's name to 'Big Fluffy Huggy Bunny Love Company Plc.' Who wouldn't want to buy petroleum-derivatives from them? If the Inland Revenue became 'Triple Cuddly Best Friends Inc.' we'd all be falling over ourselves to pay our taxes, and we'd be doing it with a smile of cuddly-best-friendliness on our faces. Hell yeah! Someone tell the Chancellor of the Exchequer that all his troubles are over (assuming he manages to do something about his eyebrows, possibly involving a Black And Decker hedge trimmer).

I wonder if this is an Eastern phenomenon -- calling your corporation nice things -- or is there a 'Complete And Utter Bastard Foods Corporation' just down the road from the Friendship Co. Ltd headquarters?

I know which one I'd rather work for.

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5 Comments:

At 12:10 AM, Anonymous norby said...

Happy Belated Birthday to Grendel!!!

 
At 3:23 AM, Anonymous tambo said...

So, how were they? Doubly happy? And isn't that something that massage ladies do to finish up their, um, sessions?

Bet they'd be kinda hard to fit in that little bag, though.

Happy Birthday to Grendel and Happy Anniversary to She Who Must and The Bearded Sex God. My y'all have many more!

 
At 11:28 PM, Blogger John R said...

An easy target? Pah! I've merely been lulling you into a false sense of security. I'll have you know I've been secretly stretching myself on a rack in the basement and liberally dousing myself with Dr Huffman's Patented Whelk-Away in preparation for our next meeting!

 
At 12:07 AM, Blogger Janet said...

I bet "She who must" was doubly delighted with those offerings. And what did "She" get her "Bearded Sex God?" Or shouldn't we ask?

Belated Happy Birfs to Grendel. God only knows what you wowed her with in the way of pressies.

 
At 3:25 PM, Blogger Stuart MacBride said...

Noooooooooooooo! Not Dr. Huffman's Patented Whelk-Away! Don't you know that can lead to an outbreak of secondary mollusciness?

And Janet, you can rest assured that it's very easy to wow Grendel with presents - just as long as they're prawns. Not big tiger ones, but the little pink commas you get from the freezer. She goes into fits of ecstasy for them.

 
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