Q. I hate you, will you shut up?
A. No.
Q. I love you, can I have sexual relations with you/worship you as a God?
A. No.
Q. What do you actually do in the Matrix?
A. i temp. Mainly data entry but at present secretarial and typing duties. i live in the north of England. i eat pizza, i drink red wine. i am older than Hamlet but younger than Christ. i am short and i am thin.
Q. I don’t like something about your blog. Will you delete it and never post anything like that again, so the blog will be exactly what I want?
A. No.
Q. What are your political views?
A. i don’t really have any. i just think chavs should be rounded up and shot or at least sterilised, immigration should be tightly controlled, teachers should be able to beat schoolchildren, and Muslims should be treated like so many potential suicide bombers. i guess that makes me a fascist.
Q. You’re a monster.
A. That’s hardly a question, is it?
Q. I am a woman and I am sickened by your pornographic images. How can you claim to be an intelligent, literate man and enjoy looking at women?
A. i have a body as well as a mind. i do not sense any contradiction between the two. The same Elberry who reads Dante enjoys female beauty. You can’t understand this because you equate sex with bestial evil, rape, slavery. You have either had no experience of sex, or bad experience, or you have misunderstood your good experiences. You should stop reading this blog. It is not for you.
Q. You are pretentious, vain and narcissistic.
A. Can you rephrase that as a question?
Q. Are you a great writer?
A. No. i’m just a temp, trying to get by. i have written a novel, a not very good screenplay, ten short stories, a few poems, and a few essays on literature. i tried to get my novel & stories published for about 3 years then gave up, when i realised it’s virtually impossible to get anything published if you don’t belong to the right circles (i.e. live in London, work in journalism or publishing). One of my stories was published 3 years ago. This pleased me but i realised i didn’t care that much, and so i gave up peddling the others.
Q. You’re a failure, you’ve wasted your education on minimum wage temp jobs, don’t you have any ambitions?
A. No. Your world does not interest me.
Q. What do you smell like?
A. Dog.
Q. What do you look like?
A. Dog.
Q. What are you?
A. Dog.
Q. What type of dog?
A. Mongrel with fleas.
Q. Your blog enrages me. Why is this?
A. It could be because you have no sense of irony. You can’t quite tell if i mean what i say or not. Sometimes you decide i’m just a cold-blooded liar, other times i seem quite sincere. You’re not sure what to make of this. You become enraged.
Q. I have to say, all this killing talk is a bit worrying. Are you going to kill me?
A. Only if you try to take my ‘jacks.
Q. What are your ‘jacks?
A. My flapjacks, tempfood, brother, can’t do without them. Don’t lay a hand on them. They’re arranged in a ziggurat, on my desk, they are holy, don’t approach them, don’t look at them without a damn good reason. i love my ‘jacks.
Q. Do you eat anything OTHER than your, uh, “jacks”?
A. i also eat ring doughnuts.
Q. Christ, you’re like some kind of homicidal Homer Simpson. Have you been to prison?
A. My whole life is prison. The ‘jacks help though. Don’t touch them!
Q. I promise I won’t.
A. Okay.
Q. What is a ‘Temp Major’?
A. A temp who has served his time in the worst of office jobs for a minimum of 3 years. At some undefinable point he becomes a kind of Alpha Male among temps; his fellows naturally look to him for guidance and advice, and when the revolution comes he will be in the forefront, leading his men.
Q. I write abusive comments calling you an idiot etc. but they disappear. Why?
A. Because i delete them.
Q. I try to leave abusive comments but your blog won’t accept them. Why?
A. Because i think you’re a twat.
