Matthew’s Blog: Were You There, Were You There?

Well, this is jolly awkward isn’t it? I was hoping to report on a highly successful and fun-packed recruitment jamboree at London’s Natural History Museum on Saturday, and perhaps announce a few new members to the world wide web, but alas, no, tis not to be. WHERE WERE YOU ALL?!!? ‘Smudgie’? You said you’d be there! ‘Randall99’? I believe you used the legally-binding term ‘Deffo!’ did you not? And you reading this now, (yes, YOU!!!) what of your no-show, hmm? I’m disappointed (to say the least!), but lest we descend into a festival of finger-wagging and tut-tuttery, let us quickly glide over Saturday’s damp squib in silence (for the moment!) and move on to other pressing matters (for now!). (Although as it happens, one person did show up, more on him later!)

Firstly, apologies as its been a while since I last blogged,  and I know there are a vast multitude of you eagerly hanging upon my every word as I occasionally toss you morsels of my day-to-day struggle to remain on the “straight and narrow”.

You may recall in my last blog my encounter with the demonic young Zac. To my relief I had seen neither hide nor hair of this dangerous succubus in the weeks immediately after. I had spent many an hour trawling through Facebook and Twitter in an effort to locate his whereabouts (so as best to avoid ever crossing paths with him again) but whilst to my surprise I found a legion of Zacs and Zacharys in London and environs, none seemed to be the young chap I came across (so to speak). Perchance some serial killer had taken him home and gobbled him up for supper? It would be a certain kind of justice, I mused. But, alas, as I was soon to discover, t’was not to be!

Also, we have very sad news to relate regarding our admin assistant, Joel. (You’ll have seen Joel in our little promo video. He’s the boy with the dark curly hair in the nightclub scene, re-enacting his emotional first encounter with me back in May last year.) Joel had been sleeping on our couch for the past few months as his parents, two militant lesbians, had angrily cast him out of the family home for becoming a Christian, (The modern world, huh?)  But he’d had a phone call from one of his mothers on Friday night extending an olive branch of rapprochment. Apparently she’d read some leaflets and realised Christianity wasn’t all bad, because, (get this!) “some of Christ’s teachings sound almost Marxist.” (Completely untrue btw, Jesus despised Communists.) So on Saturday morning as I entered the kitchen I found Joel cheerfully announcing to Dan over coffee and croissants that he was off back to Brighton to stay with his mum and err…mum. Dan nodded and smiled at Joel and offered to give him a lift to the station, but of course I divined Dan would not be taking Joel to the station, Joel would have to be taken to ‘The Garage’ to be “fixed” as there was no way he could possibly be allowed back into the “community” to backslide into his bad old ways, not after all our hard work! (The Garage is a lock-up somewhere in East London, location unspecified! We don’t want our various foes finding it!)

Dan noticed me in the doorway and flashed me ‘The Look’. I knew this was my cue to fetch the ‘Tool Box’ from the broom cupboard. I surreptitiously slipped it to Dan as he escorted Joel to the door. I could see Joel’s eyes dart nervously towards the ‘Tool Box’ and for a second he stopped in his tracks and seemed poised to ask what it was, but Dan blustered on with something about having to “crack on as we’ve got our recruitment day later,” and with that he bustled Joel out the flat and down the stairs. Of course in reality I knew that Dan would have his ‘hands full’ all day with Joel in ‘The Garage’ and I would now have to oversee the Recruitment Day all on my tod.

I arrived early at the Natural History Museum, at about 1.45pm. I had a quick scout around and it seemed like there might indeed be a few Dawn Rescue types in the vicinity but I waited until exactly 2pm until planting myself firmly at the rear end of the “diplodocus.” A likely looking young ginger chap with a backpack was already there, frowning perplexedly at the very tip of the tail. He looked not unlike Ron Weaselly, (the co-star of the Harry Potter films, lately blossoming into a fine figure of manhood). I cleared my throat and he looked up at me, startled. “Do you know why the blood of Jesus poured out of him on the cross?” I enquired with a cheery wink and a smile, expecting to be met with a joyful cry of recognition, but instead my earnest query was answered with pure incomprehension. Then an angular blonde girl rushed towards him, saying, “Dieter, Dieter! Kommen Sie und sehen Sie die prähistorischen Fisch!” And with that they departed to view the hideous Coelacanth, suspended in formaldehyde in its little alcove. So I was left alone to linger at the “tail” of the fraudulent fabrication, this supposed “giant reptile” that had allegedly “once stalked the earth.” And so the minutes ticked by. And yet more minutes ticked by…

By 3pm I had decided, with great sadness, to call it quits, but as I was there I thought I may as well have a quick gander around the exhibits. So, fighting back tears, I made my way in the direction of the ‘blue whale hall’ (as I’ve always known it) my favourite haunt as a child, and one that I can still enjoy seeing as the blue whale, (and the various other mammals that surround it) are unquestionably the creation of God, (unlike the “dinosaurs” which are of course the creation of one C Darwin). It’s always amazed me how they managed to transport this mighty beast from the depths of the ocean to South Kensington. I mean, how did they get it through the doors? (Bet it caused a right stink when they were dragging it through the streets of London, LOL!) But just as I was gazing with child-like wonder at the excellently preserved specimen, imagining myself as Jonah about to be swallowed up by this majestic leviathan, I was jolted out of my reverie by the sound of someone panting at my shoulder.

“Jeez, Matthew! Thank f***, I thought I’d missed you!”

A shudder of recognition passed through me as I turned to face him. I knew that voice anywhere, it had haunted my nightmares constantly these past three weeks!

“So you’re Dawn Rescue, are you?” said Zac (for it was he!). “Thought so!” And with that he pressed a paberback book into my trembling hand.  “It’s a present, “ he said. “You should read it!” I looked down at the cover. ‘God Is Not Great’ it said in big letters. I felt dizzy. I grasped hold of the rail but it was too late, I was going down. “Hey, Matt,” I heard him cry as the world darkened around me and I plunged to the floor…..

To be continued…

4 comments on “Matthew’s Blog: Were You There, Were You There?

  1. “It’s always amazed me how they managed to transport this mighty beast from the depths of the ocean to South Kensington. I mean, how did they get it through the doors? (Bet it caused a right stink when they were dragging it through the streets of London, LOL!) But just as I was gazing with child-like wonder at the excellently preserved specimen,”

    Seriously? Are you a complete and utter fucking moron? The blue whale in the natural history museum is a shitting MODEL!!!!! Like it fucking says so on all the signage, if it wasn’t already blatantly obvious, as it was to me even as a fucking five year old!

  2. Randall99 on said:

    I was there, man! Was waiting at the tail end of the diploducus with my backpak and saw u only my French cousin Amelie suddenly appeared from nowhere and I had to go off with her 2 look at that Coelacanth. Yeah, people often always say I look like Rupert Grinch, LOL!

    • Don’t lie to us, Randall99! I think you’ll find your cousin ‘Amelie’ was speaking in German, which is funny seeing as you claim she’s French. Also, who on earth is ‘Rupert Grinch’? I believe I remarked that the young ginger chap looked like the actor Ron Weaselly from the Harry Potter films, please read the posts properly before you spin your tissue of fibs!

  3. Bryony Ditty on said:

    Matthew, I’m sorry to have to contact you like this, but you’ve left me with no other choice, my emails get no response and god knows where you’re living now. Christ, Matt, what have you gotten yourself into? Whats all this about ‘The Garage’? Mum is in a really bad way, she’s been having chemo but things aren’t looking good. Christ, Matt, its really fucking depressing actually, dad is in pieces, we could really do with you around you know, mum keeps asking about you, fuck knows why.Ok, I’m appealing to you as a Christian, Matt, I mean doesn’t it say in that bloody book of yours about how you should honour thy father and thy mother or whatever, I mean what about all that ‘family values’ bollocks or does that not count if you’re family are blaspheming degenerates? Sorry, I really don’t mean to sound nasty, ok? Just, please, please get in touch, ok? No rows, I promise, it’d just be nice if you maybe showed your face at the bedside, I think it could really make a big fucking difference to our mother’s life actually!!!

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