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How about a seafood restaurant! But not just a regular seafood restaurant! No, sir!

First, we will offer pretty much nothing for people who don’t like seafood, who may have, for the sake of argument, been dragged there by a gang of attractive Asian girls. Everything non-seafoody should be either available only as an Extra, or “chicken tenders”, hidden away somewhere in the most patronising part of the menu.

Secondly, we will cover the table in a plastic sheet, which it later transpires will be balled up and thrown out upon completion of the meal in the most non-environmentally-friendly fashion imaginable. This will incline customers to use it as an ersatz plate, putting sauces and discarded fish bits directly onto the table like a tribe of clueless barbarians.

Thirdly, to enforce the theme of giving up the sort of dignity one could expect from civilisation, everyone is required to wear a bib. An actual bib, like a child might wear. But that’s not all! If you order now, we will further re-reinforce our contempt for all good things by serving your food in a fucking plastic bag. No plates. No cutlery. Get your head in there, and get slimy shit all over your fingers, you fucking pig.

Fourthly, requests for cutlery, plates, sanity, etc. should create glances, attitudes and general merriment such that I’m the asshole in this scenario.

Fifthly, how about we’re the only restaurant in the Northern hemisphere to charge customers for regular tap water? It’s not much (25c), but enough to cause resentment on principle.

Could such a restaurant prosper? Could such a place attract urban middle-class white people who imagine this sort of bullshit is a taste of lower-class authentic food? As they drive away in their BMWs, pumping Snoop out of the stereo, do they then imagine that they are a little closer to their African-American brothers, not one of whom was to be seen actually inside this genuine soul food, seafood restaurant? Could such a restaurant exist?

Ladies and gentlemen, I give you:

The Boiling Crab

This is my main tumblr. I also run a bunch of other tumblrs for which, for various reasons, I have thought it better to conceal my identity.

I recently started Oscar Wilde Quotes because I like pretty much everything he’s ever said, and now I can just put them all in the one place.

I like pretty pictures of girls, but tumblr is full of porn blogs, so I thought I’d try something different: just photos of pretty girls. That turned into You Love, You Lose (from the popular 4chan thread theme). Somewhere in the middle of that I noticed that two of the photos had the same colour wall. Then I wondered what would happen if photos of women were judged not by the women, but by the colour of the back ground. In a move which seemed stupid even at the time, this turned into Green Wall Bitches. That wasn’t enough for me, though. I had to take it one further, with Red Wall Bitches. And then, just for fun, Blue Wall Bitches and Yellow Wall Bitches. Because why not? And then I just said fuck it and started a blog with girls and their cats called Bitches With Cats with no regard whatsoever for the colour of the wall in the background. None of this paragraph makes any sense, even to me, and I don’t care.

Now you know.

On Sunday the 1st of July, 2007, I noticed that PostSecret didn’t update, for the first time ever. It didn’t update on the Monday either. Or the Tuesday. On Wednesday, I got sick of waiting for it, and I made up my own. This turned into PostSatire, a weekly blog where I posted postcards I made up the sole purpose of which was to mock the curiously Western phenomenon of young people thinking that their life sucks so much that they have to cut themselves, or develop behavioural disorders, etc. You know, the things that people who live actually sucky lives in actually sucky countries just don’t have time to think about, because they’re too busy wondering where there next meal is coming from, or trying not to get deaded in one of the interminable civil wars that seem to be a feature of these places. This became PostSatire, and there are links to every page I published on that site. Over time I started accepting contributions from friends, and then from anyone who felt like emailing me, and that’s where it stood when I stopped the site. And then I started a tumblr called PostSatire, which originally was intended just to advertise the PostSatire site, but became something else when it started attacking the hipster/emo/feminist/etc. bullshit that “concerned citizens” keep pumping into the tumblr machine. I’m not the only one who has access to it, but I’m taking responsibility for it. I keep getting hate mail, which convinced me to write a page for people who don’t get it, but it doesn’t seem to have dissuaded a legion of protesters.

I’m shit with women. I have no idea how to talk to them, or what’s expected of me when dealing with them. Any time I try, there’s a 90% chance it will turn to shit, possibly even a court order. I decided to keep a blog about how shit I am with women called 50 Worst Dates on LiveJournal. The 50 Worst Dates tumblr is the same thing, but prettier. If you want to make fun of me, that’s where you’ll find your ammunition. I’ll keep posting stuff as long as I’m shit with women. I’m 35 now, so I don’t see the situation improving any time soon.

In other news, I don’t like going into restrooms in restaurants. This led to an idea that maybe people might find a restaurant restroom review site useful. I hadn’t seen anything like it online, so I went ahead and set up Elephant in the Restroom. It didn’t work. No one cared. I’m going to keep providing content because I like the idea, but it’s effectively dead.

If any of you have any ideas (even terrible, nonconstructive ones) about what the hell I can do with any of these blogs, please let me know, because sometimes I feel like I don’t have a partner. Sometimes I feel like my only friend is the city I live in, the city of tumblr; lonely as I am, together we cry.