© 2018 Cheryl Hardacre.

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Love is Like a Maggoty Blowfly

Updated: Feb 2, 2019

THE OBNOXIOUS KATE BLOG:

(Kate's blogs filtered by CHERYL HARDACRE for the sanity of readers everywhere)


To follow is an interview with the infamous KATE HARDWICK, this being an introduction and explanation for the uninitiated (and unwary). KATE HARDWICK. Now if those two words, together in that very order, do not send you scrambling for a bottle of vodka, a mild sedative, or your therapist’s phone number, then clearly you do not know Kate. Who is KATE HARDWICK? To be kind, Kate is colourful and fiery and ... and ... I’m sorry, I cannot get beyond those two compliments. By that I mean there are no other compliments to attach to this ... girl. Blatant honesty, journalistic truth and an obligation to preserve the sanity of my readers will not allow it. I could add here all the less-then-pleasant descriptions of Kate but there is no need. If you dare to read on, you will find that, through her own words, Kate will quickly attach to herself the required adjectives.

It all began with the book.

Kate is the lead character of that infamous book, A BIGOT IN THE APPLE TREE. Yes, it was I who foolishly let her get to me during those dank, dark sleepless nights; it was I who allowed her to float in, or should I say crash in, from the ether and flow into existence through my pen to become a new pestilence in the world: more a destructive, degenerating virus-like pestilence that infiltrates mind and soul, rather than body. Perhaps I am too harsh, to be fair you must judge for yourself. Although you have been warned: read ahead at your own discretion, at your own peril...

~ Cheryl of the foolish pen



INTERVIEWER: So Kate Hardwick, your first blog. Strange title; I have to say it’s a strange title.

KATE: It is isn’t it?

Well?

Well what?

Tell us more ...

I’m thinking.

OK…

I’m not sure where to start.

Well your topic is love, what sort of love?

Huh?

The Greeks had six definitions of love: a word for friendship love, for playful love, longstanding love, love of self, a love for everyone and eros, a love that was se-… er ... a passionate love.

You ever had a boyfriend?

Of course I’ve had a - why are you looking at me like that?

It’s all right. I won’t ask anyone to reveal their shameful secrets on my blog that’s read by gazillions.

I don’t have any... Listen-

No it's good. All good. I hadn’t thought to write a “Boyfriend Manifesto” for old people, but now I know I must.

Could we get back to the fly?

What fly?

No, “love” … let’s stay on love, it’s safer. I hope. You’re only young, still in primary school, what do you know about love?

Clearly more than … to begin with, I don’t bring Greeks into it: Italians, yes, but not Greeks. My boyfriend was/is/could be Italian.

What do you mean: “was/is/could be”?

Didn’t you read my Boyfriend Manifesto? I thought journalists were meant to read up on their famous subjects before interviewing them.

You’re not famous.

Yet.

And I did read your book; well I skimmed it…

What’s the overriding rule? The great covenant I lay down in my manifesto to help all of humankind?

Oh boy…

Always, ALWAYS have more than one boyfriend on the go: For security reasons.

Security reasons.

And before you start, yes this does make for an enormously high turnover of boyfriends, but let’s face it, it’s their own fault.

It is?

Attractiveness-level Fickle-ality. It's a well-known syndrome. The attractiveness of a boy can change markedly from day-to-day, which is hardly my fault. Most loves-of-my-life last around six weeks although I did have a boyfriend for three months once. As you can imagine, this turnover creates confusion so I’ve found it best to declare any interesting boy a “was/is/could be”, that way you can’t get it wrong.

“Was” ... “is” ... could you slow down a moment?

But the big rule is to always, always have at least two or three boyfriends on the go; it reduces risk.

What risk?

The risk of boring classroom time...

Boring what?

So you haven’t read my book either. Love is a great boredom-killer, it plugs up gaps in time, the dull moments, in the way wads of gunky hair block the bathroom sink. Love is almost as good as watching telly, for the boredom-relief I mean. In addition you get pencil cases and fizz rings.

The WHAT rings?

I think this is the point where the famous celebrity gets up and walks out on the interviewer … because she hasn’t done her research.

You can’t say “famous celebrity”: a celebrity IS famous, that’s why they’re a celebrity.

That’s what I said; what’s wrong with you? Oh the fudge, this is “the fudge” to distract from the fact that you don’t know anything about me.

I know that you’re obnoxious.

That’s easy. I think. Although I’m not sure what obnox…

It means really, REALLY difficult. Impossible. Isn’t that what your mother called you: insufferable, impatient and impossible? And didn’t I read…

Oh! Read a page then...

Didn’t I read that you were attempting the OPPOSITE of these; that is, you were trying to be sufferable, patient and possible and aiming for some (highly unlikely) improvement? How’s that going?

Good.

(SILENCE)

Come on Kate Hardwick, say something interesting, intelligent … enlighten me.

Lighten you?

What?

Oh, your weight...

ENLIGHTEN: add illumination. Come on, engage, enthrall, excite me; no, no forget that last request. Wow. I’d dared to hope this blog would have substance; I’d dared to hope you’d offer advice or inform and educate in some small way. Not just rave on with all this rubb-

I’ve said a lot about love.

No you haven’t. You’ve suggested mean and petty ways of gaining attention, of grasping for gifts and building up your own ego; ways of using people for your own thrills, for that rush that comes from adoration…

That’s what I said: love.

My god. You seriously think that’s-

I won’t tell anyone...

What?

...that you’ve never had a boyfriend.

Look, I’d really like my brain back … can we finish this?

Can we?

What?

Isn’t it could we? That’s what annoying Mister Osborne used to say. It was humiliating enough putting your hand up during class to ask to go to the bog without his response: “Can you go to the toilet … I don’t know, can you? Or do you mean could you go to the toilet?”

How enlightening. Look, we’ve done “love” …

Have we?

So where’s the blowfly?

What blowfly? Hey, you were meant to shut the fly-screens. Famous celebrities don’t shut fly-screens.

The blowfly IN YOUR BLOG TITLE...

Oh that. I don’t know, where is it?

So … a fly is not mentioned in the content at all; it’s there as click-bait.

It’s catchy isn’t it, the title?

Misleading. It’s fraudulent and misleading.

Is it? Makeup, hair colour and Spanx.

What?

Look great on us. On old people pretending to be young and beautiful ... isn't that "mislead"?

This interview is over.

At last! My blog is up! My much-needed wisdom can now send its tentacles out into the world. By the way, things would improve with a larger size; the giveaway is the roll of fat escaping under each armpit…those pudgy little lumps just here...

Don't! Thanks for your time, actually no thanks. And for next week, could you find yourself another interviewer?


© Copyright Cheryl Hardacre

KATE HARDWICK is the lead character in A BIGOT IN THE APPLE TREE by Cheryl Hardacre.

See more at cherylhardacre.com



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