Things I Don't Have

16 July 2001
Matt says there are thirty-two.

Here is a list of things I don't have, but wish I did:

A larger flat.

The ability to fly.

Full and free use of a crane (although, apparently, one can be hired for as little as 250 pounds sterling. I'm not sure for how long, but long enough I'm sure to go to somewhere extremely flat with a conspicuous lack of anything tall, and drop things from great heights, leaving people to find curious craters full of broken tins of spaghetti).

Enough exercise.

My own television show.

Fans.

A hunk of Canadian cheddar and a cup of tea.

Dry trousers.

The power to rip birds from the sky with the electricity that leaps from my hands.

A talking egg.

Perfect abs.

A whole army of talking eggs, each with a flamethrower, the means to use it, and a degree in Oriental Languages from Cambridge.

Tunnels.

A giraffe that can play the harp with its long, black tongue.

Two giraffes that can play the harp with their long, black tongues.

A cigarette.

A big red Panic button.

A harp.

Another harp.

The authority and democratic mandate of at least two continents.

Thousands of bees tethered with cotton to a central pillar, all milked daily for bee cheese by a voluptuous bee-milking maiden who would tug at those tiny tiny teats with delicate silken fingers, sitting on a stool hidden in the folds of her linen skirt.

No, not that kind of stool. What kind of bee-milker would shit herself? The very idea of crap passing through such a perfect pinky-brown puckered anus is abhorrent. Rather I mean a wooden stool, with three legs, made by her big-bearded wrinkle-faced now-dead great-grandfather, who has (had, sorry) two legs.

Although this is a list of things I wish I had (but don't), I don't want the above item in the list. That was a paragraph of clarification, not an item.

As was that.

And that, and this. Back to things I'm wishing I had, but don't:

The fabled Lost City of Atlantis just at the end of the road and round the corner.

Dark and terrible, yet strangely glamorous, secrets.

Tourette's Syndrome.

Badgers.

A rampant, passionate, juicy fuckfest with aforementioned bee maiden, the golden tresses of her hair tickling my face, and the fuzzy furry bodies of two hundred and sixty seven bees brushing and stimulating those parts of us where the sun don't usually shine (although today it will, as we'll be slippery and naked outside on the side of a mountain in the Alps, in a bee meadow, posts topped by swarms of bees making their music all around us, whilst simultaneously we make the noisy moist squelchy squealing music of lurve).

An enormous hole in the ground, the shape of which is the exact inverse of Beirut.

Freedom from the tendency to get mildly but very definitely turned on by certain words, including "folds", and "nipple".

Startling and fearsome followers made completely of animated vegetables with marrows for thighs and aubergine cocks.

The absolute truth about the life of Jesus Christ, but as told in the language of Dalmation, the last speaker of which died in the 1960s attempting to clear a roadblock with a landmine.

Your virginity.

In my front room, a larger-than-life-size horse made of solid glass.

Current clown:

18 December 2003. George writes: This List

Most recent ten:

15 December 2003. Jamie writes: Seven Songs
11 December 2003. Dan writes: Spinning Jenny
8 December 2003. Victor writes: Rock Opera
4 December 2003. Matt writes: The Mirrored Spheres of Patagonia
1 December 2003. George writes: Charm
27 November 2003. James writes: On Boxing
24 November 2003. Jamie writes: El Matador del Amor; Or, the Man who Killed Love
20 November 2003. Dan writes: Rights Management
17 November 2003. Victor writes: Walking on Yellow
13 November 2003. Matt writes: Disintermediation
(And alas we lost Neil, who last wrote Cockfosters)

Also by this clown:

4 December 2003. Matt writes: The Mirrored Spheres of Patagonia
13 November 2003. Matt writes: Disintermediation
23 October 2003. Matt writes: Topology
2 October 2003. Matt writes: Haunted
8 September 2003. Matt writes: The Gardener's Diary
21 August 2003. Matt writes: The Starling Variable
31 July 2003. Matt writes: Two stories
14 July 2003. Matt writes: What is real?
23 June 2003. Matt writes: Mapping and journeys
29 May 2003. Matt writes: Extelligence
5 May 2003. Matt writes: Religious experiences
17 April 2003. Matt writes: Seeing the Light
27 March 2003. Matt writes: Flowering
10 March 2003. Matt writes: Climax state
10 February 2003. Matt writes: The Role of Cooperation in Human Interaction
20 January 2003. Matt writes: The same old subroutine
2 January 2003. Matt writes: New beginnings
9 December 2002. Matt writes: Packet Loss
18 November 2002. Matt writes: Wonderland
31 October 2002. Matt writes: Having and losing
10 October 2002. Matt writes: Trees of Knowledge
19 September 2002. Matt writes: The online life of bigplaty47
29 August 2002. Matt writes: Divorce
8 August 2002. Matt writes: How to get exactly what you want
18 July 2002. Matt writes: Eleven Graceland endings
27 June 2002. Matt writes: Listopad, Prague 1989
3 June 2002. Matt writes: Engram bullets
6 May 2002. Matt writes: Sound advice
15 April 2002. Matt writes: How it all works: Cars
21 March 2002. Matt writes: Proceeding to the next stage
25 February 2002. Matt writes: Spam quartet
31 January 2002. Matt writes: Person to person
7 January 2002. Matt writes: All for the best
13 December 2001. Matt writes: Life
19 November 2001. Matt writes: Giving is better than receiving
25 October 2001. Matt writes: Ludo
1 October 2001. Matt writes: Gifts, contracts, and whispers
6 September 2001. Matt writes: The world is ending
13 August 2001. Matt writes: The Church of Mrs Bins
16 July 2001. Matt writes: Things I Don't Have
25 June 2001. Matt writes: Fighting the Good Fight
31 May 2001. Matt writes: Code dependency
7 May 2001. Matt writes: Up The Arse, Or Not At All
5 April 2001. Matt writes: The increasing nonlinearity of time
19 March 2001. Matt writes: Hit Me Baby, One More Time
22 February 2001. Matt writes: Space, Matter, Cities, Sausages
29 January 2001. Matt writes: Truth in Advertising
1 January 2001. Matt writes: Six predictions for tomorrow
7 December 2000. Matt writes: You must reach this line to ride
16 November 2000. Matt writes: The truth about the leopard
23 October 2000. Matt writes: Shopping mauls
28 September 2000. Matt writes: Heavy traffic on the road to Utopia
4 September 2000. Matt writes: Sixty worlds a minute
17 July 2000. Matt writes: You, Me, and Face-space

We are all Upsideclown: Dan, George, James, Jamie, Matt, Neil, Victor.

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