It's official. According to tubby online batchelors at Wikio, No Good Boyo is the Tenth Welshest Web Blog in the World!
This information was culled and presented by Ordovicius, future President of All Wales and suitor of Mrs Boyo's imaginary sister.
Well, I don't know what to say.
First of all, I'm annoyed to be listed as non-political - this site is devoted to making Wales a Maoist haven for slate-based autarky and slogan-shrieking Urdd child soldiers.
Second, I could not have done it without Mrs Boyo's constant denigration of my friends and very being.
This above all drove me to seek solace in the web community of my thoughts.
This above all drove me to seek solace in the web community of my thoughts.
Third, a big, hairy-palmed hand to all the self-polluters who boosted my ratings with such searches as 'caroline quentin basque', 'charlote church bukkake', 'brithdir wife swap' and 'glenys kinnock's Moroccan op'.
I owe a great debt to those early readers who've stuck with me through the good times and the bad - like when I forgot what my blog was called and couldn't find it for six months. I'm thinking of Gorilla Bananas and Gyppo Byard in particular.
I'm delighted to have met - or, if you believe Mrs Boyo, to have created in the vortex of my rapidly disintegrating personality - such international playboys and grandes dames distinguées as Ordo himself, MC Ward, Gadjo Dilo and Mrs Pouncer.
Above all, I am proud to have received the recognition of my Silurian peers. If I were to annoy an Uzbek billionaire this evening and have my blog banned by the Old Baileys, my proudest moment would probably have been singlehandedly reviving the singing career of Shakin' Stevens.
Before I blogged, he was loafing around in Peter Kaye videos. Now he's headlining at Glasto, the muddy musicbox of Home Counties whiteboys.
My ambitions for the next two years of blogging? Well, first up, I don't want the celebrity to ruin me. No tabloid rumours about Duffy seen leaving my shed in the early hours, no freebasing Brains and cockles in John Malkovich's hotel. I'm happy with Mrs Boyo and her threats of unnecessary surgical procedures.
Otherwise, I want to clamber up the Wikio Top Ten like a bandwith-drooling zombie until I reign supreme over the deleted comments of mine enemies.
Hwyl!
I owe a great debt to those early readers who've stuck with me through the good times and the bad - like when I forgot what my blog was called and couldn't find it for six months. I'm thinking of Gorilla Bananas and Gyppo Byard in particular.
I'm delighted to have met - or, if you believe Mrs Boyo, to have created in the vortex of my rapidly disintegrating personality - such international playboys and grandes dames distinguées as Ordo himself, MC Ward, Gadjo Dilo and Mrs Pouncer.
Above all, I am proud to have received the recognition of my Silurian peers. If I were to annoy an Uzbek billionaire this evening and have my blog banned by the Old Baileys, my proudest moment would probably have been singlehandedly reviving the singing career of Shakin' Stevens.
Before I blogged, he was loafing around in Peter Kaye videos. Now he's headlining at Glasto, the muddy musicbox of Home Counties whiteboys.
My ambitions for the next two years of blogging? Well, first up, I don't want the celebrity to ruin me. No tabloid rumours about Duffy seen leaving my shed in the early hours, no freebasing Brains and cockles in John Malkovich's hotel. I'm happy with Mrs Boyo and her threats of unnecessary surgical procedures.
Otherwise, I want to clamber up the Wikio Top Ten like a bandwith-drooling zombie until I reign supreme over the deleted comments of mine enemies.
Hwyl!
32 comments:
All the other blogs are written by political hacks, you're the only independent-thinking Maoist among them. I'm glad to have been there at the start, but ashamed to have given up in your AWOL period. It was my loss, because I missed the excellent post about burning witches (among others). It won't happen again now that I have a blog reader.
As this is a This Is Your Life moment, I'll say from behind the screen, "I was desperate to get out of TEFL, then I came across your blog and I've been too busy laughing to make any further headway."
I first saw a comment of yours on Chase Me Ladies, and was suitably intrigued by its Welshness and wit to stalk you virtually ever since.
Congratulations, you deserve all the plaudits. I appreciate your reference to me as a playboy, though you missed out the "surreptitious reader of" - thank goodness.
NoooooooOOOOOOOoooooooo!!!!
Encountering your blog was almost a Road to Damascus experience for me, your Royal Boyoness. (And I also thank you for calling me a Playboy, though you could have followed it by "Of The Western World", just to give me a patina of literary credibility). Until then I'd thought that blogs were all written one-handedly by teenagers whilst listen to Slayer and gawping at the clandestine video they'd made of their mum's friend Eileen taking a shower. Your Shakey post was the first I encountered - via Indie Pop's blog, if I recall correctly - and I shall never forget the day. Here in my Transylvanian fastness I am so very far from comedy as we know it - so, thank you. 10 is a creditable position, but we should be aiming for at least a 9 next year.
Future president of Wales Shakin Stevens will be performing in Weymouth just one day from now.
It is all I can do from preventing the Free Wessex Popular Front from staging a hit on the Greatest Living Welshman.
Send money and cake.
Hoorah! But, tell me; is this an Everyone-must-have-prizes thing? If so, may I join the competition? Are there appropriate categories for all? For example, I could enter the Home Grown Patrician listing, or the Recent Hammer Obituaries crowd. And what of our other friends? Could Mr Dilo have a prize? Or Major Ward? Where would Mr Byard slot in? I have to know.
I require no special prize, Mrs Pouncer, as I'm a complete novice in this blogging thing and am still clumsily trying to find my way without stepping on anybody's toes or spelling things wrong. But, otherwise, I'm heartily in favour of the "prizes-for-everybody" philosophy, and suggest that Mr Boyo invent an shiny-yet-meaningless "Welsh Commonwealth" award that he could bestow on us all.
Lady, gentlemen,
You honour me, yourselves and blogkind with these acts of homage.
Dwarf simpleton Phil Collins once remarked that "it no fun be an illegal alien", and yet being a fully-certified Welsh is also a challenge. I thank you for easing my corgi-shaped country into the mute international community we hear so much of.
As for Mrs Pouncer and Gadjo, I would suggest that you set aside your Melanie Phillips for a moment and recall that, as a minority within something or other, we Welsh are waaay ahead of distressed aristos in the grievance league.
Until the Annointed One David Son of Cameron reclaims that which is rightfully His by birth and floppiness of hair.
Scary. Tugriks and Battenburg are in the post.
Again I am misrepresented. I do not think that you all are splayed fragments of Boyo's wildly- oscillating mind, but rather that you are projections of his quaint longings as refracted through the perceptions of a cold and alien ocean.
Observe your genesis:
http://www.youtube.com/
watch?v=Jorf-2o5YfU
Was that Genesis? It's a bit arty, even for them.
I know not this Melanie Phillips of which you speak, but Phil Collins is certainly right on the button - it's not always fun, even when legal, but comedy blogs do sustain one.
Gadjo, you DO know Melanie: small, glasses, short hair, Jewish. Cross about literally everything in the whole wide world. Starts every sentence with "In my experience..." Kicked up about the whole everyone-must-have-prizes vibe. (I seem to have slipped out of character, somehow. Sorry).
I have dealt with Genesis the tedious musos once before (http://alfanalf.blogspot.com/2007/
11/cyfres-y-ceirw-i-hag.html), and want to keep mention of them to a minimum lest this blog should be flooded by unathletic t-shirt collectors with keyboards in their garages.
The same goes for Melanie Phillips, the strongest argument for national papers maintaining a bench of subs that I've ever seen. This is a tidy blog, and two many mentions of the Magna Mater might attract excitable Americans and unwashed Protocol fanciers.
Oh please don't let Mrs Boyo be imaginary, I beg you! I have been drinking Cuvee R Lalou since 12 noon so typing/spelling etc a bit approximate, but I really must make a plea: no, actually can't quite get it together, but I will at some point. Probably tomorrow morning, or something. Yours
Ordovicius, future President of All Wales
Does this mean I have Cymru Rouge backing? I thought they favoured Paul Potts
This is the most exciting Walesishness-related news since your heritage minister Rhodri Glyn Thomas ballsed up the Wales Book Of The Year announcement last week. I must confess that I was hoping to read the Boyo perspective on this excruciating but cruelly hilarious literary happening. Also, I never got to vote on this Wiki-award thing, but even though I haven't read any of the other mostly dull sounding Cymru-chronicles, NGB should be number one by a couple of dozen yards of Brains' Best. Carry on hoisting the deviant flag of Maorgannwg.
Hear hear, well said Indie-Pop. One never knows for for sure what's real and what's cock on the Internet, but if there is a chart of Welshishness Blogs then Boyo should be at the top. Plaid Cymru etc may be committed - and maybe even right, in some exceptionally narrow definition of that concept - but they'll not sell Welshness to the world without repeated reference to Shakin' Stevens, Charlotte Church, immoderate drinking, etc.
At the risk of getting a further Gyppo-kicking, Melanie Phillips actually talks a fair amount of sense on the subject of multi-culturalism (and this is a Didacoi praising the words of a Jew here, so bear with me...) when allowed to extrude herself beyond the limitations of a column written for little-Englanders with limited brain capacity. I heard her speak at a conference once where her presentation would have been highly impressive if the IT had worked properly. Instead, it turned into a baffling session of surrealist improv. But I was being paid to be there, so what the hell, eh?
Ordo, the Supreme Sasiwn and Ents Committee of the Cymru Rouge merely register their belief that you will become president - probably shortly before being deported to Bardsey Island Re-Education Camp by militant, Howitzer-toting toddlers in Mistar Urdd warpaint.
Our position on Comrade Potts is that his will be the acceptable face of a Rouge government to the outside world. Especially if it is mounted on a stick.
Pop - I don't know this story but will investigate it cursorily. I am worried to hear that we are only producing one book a year, though.
As Gadjo suggets, the reason other Welsh blogs lack our poise, brio and élan is that they have to deal with Wales as it is. No Good Boyo has the luxury of treating the Wales that ought to be.
Gyppo. Ms Phillips is all very well in her place, but I'm the only seething minority permitted to rant at length about religious obscurantists on this web blog apart from you.
I extend the six-fingered fist of generosity to you in recognition of the fact that the police could move you along from your own blog at any moment.
'slogan-shrieking Urdd child soldiers' - absolutely brilliant!!
Anon, wyt ti'r un Ddienw ag oedd ar safle Gorilla Bananas? Os wyt, dwi'n iawn diolch. Sut wyt ti?
Congratulations!
But he put you in "humor/satire" category instead of "dark misery and gnashing of dental plates". That is an oversight that must be corrected.
True Maoist doesn't hold with humor or, deity forbid, satire...
Cheers.
True, Snoop. Soon these fools will feel the wrath of my bombast.
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