There's life Jim, but not as we know it...

Is it a bird? Is it a plane?

2009-02-12T22:16:00.002Z

... No, it's a boy... er... reading a book!

I don't know why, but I found this story really funny.

Now, I know there is a serious side to this. I mean, should parents really be encouraging their 7 year olds to climb the roof and sit on top of a chimney? (It brings a whole new meaning to the "naughty step") But the one line in this news report that made me laugh out loud was:

"His [the Dad's] arrest was triggered on 29 January after a member of the public reported a child left unattended on a roof."

...and the little photograph that accompanies it with the boy on the roof in the distance. I don't know, it just makes me laugh every time I look at it!

Traffic Light Fraud

2009-02-01T05:38:00.002Z

Ok, it's been a while. But I just had to post when I saw this piece of news.

Have you seen those cameras on top of traffic lights to detect people running red lights? Well apparently, in Italy the lights have been rigged to change from amber to red in just three seconds instead of the regulatory five or six seconds, resulting in over a million people being fined. It is estimated that this fraudulent scheme may have raked in up to £116.4 million.

I was shocked when I read this. You know why? Because in my town we're lucky if the damn lights stay on green for five or six seconds, never mind amber!

Congratulations are in Order...

2008-12-06T05:35:00.004Z

...to Mr. and Mrs. Granny's Myth Peeler!

They had a baby! Yay! Congratulations!

*waves to baby Peeler* Coo-wee!

As usual I'm a little late off the mark though*, and baby Peeler probably has a grey beard by now, smokes a pipe, wears tartan slippers and lives in a place like this run by Nuns - and that's if the baby is a girl. I don't actually know, but Congratulations to the parents anyway.

*about a year!

A Nice Change

2008-12-03T17:09:00.003Z

I'm over weight. It's no secret and there's no point in denying it - it's a fact.

I went to see the nurse this week about something unrelated, but while I was there I told her how bad my IBS has been recently and joked that it hasn't helped me to lose any weight and that these days I can't even get my wedding ring off. Do you know what she said? Go on, guess. I bet you can't guess.

"Here, have this diet sheet because you really need to try to lose some weight, otherwise you'll develop diabetes and heart problems and you'll be dead by the end of the week"

That would be the usual response wouldn't it? But no, she didn't say that, she said:

"You've probably got some water retention. You want to try to detox by drinking plenty of fluid, and body brushing. Green tea is good for detoxing, and also try some pro-biotics for your stomach"

She then went on to explain the correct technique for body brushing, adding "measure yourself rather than weighing, I guarantee you'll lose some inches"

Umm... ok. Thanks. I'm just a little stunned. I mean, like I said, I'm under no illusions - I'm fat, I know that. It's just so nice not to be nagged about it! In fact, this has given me more incentive to try to lose weight than any previous scare tactics.

You're as Cold as Ice

2008-10-29T18:06:00.002Z

Apparently it's gonna be very cold this winter. That's what my sister said anyway, so it must be true. I can feel it already - we're experiencing minus temperatures and it's still only October. With this in mind I decided to go shopping to prepare for the winter months - draft excluders of all descriptions, foam filler for those holes around the kitchen pipes, a shower cap for the air vent (oh yes), and a can of de-icer which I didn't even need because we already have some.

I have to say, the man in the shop didn't seem like much of a DIY enthusiast.

"Excuse me. Can you tell me where your draft excluders are please?" I'm usually very polite I'll have you know.

"Yes. They're in this section somewhere. Just look around."

Ok then. Not very helpful.

I have no idea why I asked the same person for the foam filler.

"Foam filler, foam filler..." I swear he said it about five times. "Oh, you mean the stuff in a can?"

"I think so. It's the stuff you use to fill in the gaps around pipes that go through walls" I explained. Hey, he's supposed to be the expert not me!

"We have these for copper pipes" he said as he showed me some tube shaped foam.

Not exactly out of a can is it? But I thought it would be more polite to say:

"Well... the pipes go through walls so... I need to fill the gaps to stop the drafts. I'll never be able to get that foam in the gaps."

"Well these are for copper pipes" he continued.

Who said anything about copper pipes anyway? I'm not trying to keep the pipes warm, I'm trying to keep me warm! I nearly asked him if I should go and ask one of the female assistants, since they seemed to know more about DIY. But I thought it would be more polite to say:

"Well, it's not really what I'm looking for, so I'll go somewhere else. Thanks anyway"

I know what you're thinking: how do I manage to endure these encounters with such a high level of patience? I don't know. I often wonder the same thing.

Stolen Beach Cover Up

2008-10-19T05:27:00.003Z

Apparently in July 500 truck loads of sand was stolen from a beach in Jamaica, and no one saw a thing! How do you hide a whole beach? It's not like you could shove it up your jumper and discreetly slip away is it?

Lack of arrests since the incident has led some to believe that the police were involved and that the whole thing has been swept under the carpet.

Hehehe.

Today's Top Tip

2008-10-16T01:09:00.002Z

If you don't like loud chopping noises, don't move in above a Butcher's shop.

Related stupidity here.

Y'know, my brother lives above a kebab shop that's open until 3am. Maybe the half price kebabs are to stop him from complaining about the noise...

Today's Top Tip

2008-09-05T21:34:00.000Z

Light coloured clothes don't wash well with Tie Dye dresses.

Happy Blog Day to Me!

2008-08-31T23:50:00.001Z

Happy blog day to me
Happy blog day to me
Happy blog day dear Mrs Maaan
Happy blog day to meee!

*Mrs Man clears her throat and prepares to give her thank you speech*

*Ahem* (tap, tap) Testing. Testing. *Jumps back*

Thank you all for joining me on this special day. I can't believe I have been blogging for two years! I've never had a hobby last so long. I know posts have been a little sporadic of late; I hope I can rectify that in the near future.

I'd like to thank those who have continually stood by me - through good times and bad times - and have continued to read my blog, no matter how pointless my ramblings may have seemed at the time. You are all very special to me *reduced to a whisper* and I would especially like to thank those who have commented on my blog *wipes away a tear*. You have made me laugh, cry, and have warmed my heart, and I thank you most sincerely. *Sheds a few tears as she clutches her bosom*

"Get on with it!"

So now, there is nothing more for me to say except I hope you enjoy the party, and...

...if you enjoy my blog so much how come you still haven't sent me any chocolate?!

Here We Go Again...

2008-08-27T19:03:00.004Z

Yes, it's that time of year again - the time of year when I suddenly forget how to drive; stall the car at every available opportunity (and create a few of my own); and feel the need to try all five gears until I settle on one that is appropriate for the speed I am driving at.

It's that time of year when I can't remember what anything is called, forcing me to start an impromptu game of Articulate* mid sentence. And the time of year when completely random words and sentences come out of my mouth which are totally unrelated to what I was about to say.

Yes, it's that time of year when I start to suffer my annual brain dysfunction. It has come early this year, but then so has autumn.

Just the other day I said to Mr Man: "I'm just going to sit down and go to the toilet before I start dinner" when what I actually meant to say was: "I'm just going to sit down and have a drink before I start dinner" !

Another favourite seems to be completely forgetting what I've just said the moment I have finished speaking, and then having this awful feeling that I just said something random and having to ask the person I'm talking to "What did I just say?" They probably think I'm testing their level of attention!

Ah yes, here we go again... and people wonder why I prefer to write than talk.

*Articulate is a game where you have to describe a word from a card to your team member without actually saying the word, and they have to guess as many words on the cards as possible in the time allotted.

Patience

2008-08-04T15:05:00.006Z

Patience - number one hit for British male band "Take That" in 2006. First single from the album "Beautiful World", their first album after reforming 10 years after the band split in 1996. Dedicated by Mr Man to my Mum!

I've always been a very impatient sort of person. I'm quite indecisive, but once I've made up mind that I want something I want it yesterday. I never realised where I got this trait from, or how irritating it could be to others, until I went to my Mum's house yesterday.

I always thought she was quite a patient person; she could spend hours knitting. As far as I'm concerned you have to be an incredibly patient person to spend hours knitting.

So yesterday Mr Man and I went to my Mum's house. Mr Man was upgrading* my Mum's (ancient) computer - inserting more ram, bigger hard drive, that sort of thing - and doing some other things that go way over my pretty little grey cells. We were there for over 5 hours. So at about 1am when Mr Man was just about finished my Mum says:

"When you get home, can you log on to MSN so that I can see if my webcam is working?"

"But Mum, it's one O'clock in the morning!"

"Oh, ok then. Well, can you log on to MSN on your phone just so I can see if my webcam is working?"

"But Mum, it's one O'clock in the morning!"

"I know, but I just wanted to see if my webcam is working"

"But Mum, it's one O'clock in the morning!"

I mean, why does she need to know at one O'clock in the morning if her webcam is working or not? But then I realised, this is exactly the sort of thing that would completely bug me until I knew one way or the other. It's a good job we asked her to wait too, because knowing me, if her webcam didn't work at one O'clock in the morning, she would want Mr Man to stay and fix it.

Oh my goodness, I'm just like my mother! I'm going to have nightmares for the next week of me walking down the street pushing a pram with a fag hanging out of my mouth! Argh!

* I hate this word.

The Final Blow

2008-07-04T00:09:00.005Z

I'd been winded. It seemed to throw me into a state of confusion. As I gasped for air I felt disoriented; dizzy. I staggered around. I felt weak. I didn't know how or where I would find the strength to continue. There was no more "fight" left in me.

Slowly, I straightened up and raised my head. My arms hung limp at my sides. I looked directly into his eyes. As he stared back at me, I knew there was only one thing left I could do. My survival depended on it.

"Mr Man, I'm going to have to go to Morrison's; we've run out of Shreddies" I whispered through my tears.

"Alright, settle down"

Two Blog Posts for the Price of One!

2008-06-10T20:46:00.003Z

Yes I know; I don't update my blog for... ever, and then I post twice in one day! That's like "two for the price of one"! Or like "buy one get one free"! Don't you just love special offers? Well here's another one for you:

Tesco are selling packs of 12 bottles of J2O for £4.49! (Well, they are here anyway!) That's approximately 37p a bottle!

Don't forget to take the empty bottles to the bottle bank though - every little helps :)

Today's Top Tip

2008-06-10T17:16:00.003Z

I know; I'm a very lazy, naughty blogger for not posting for so long. But to make up for it I'm going to share with you what is probably the most important advice I could ever give you:

If you have a dodgy tummy, don't sneeze on your way to the bathroom.

Thank goodness I wasn't in public!

Who Do You Think You Are?

2008-05-18T01:09:00.001Z

The 4th and final single released from the Spice Girls’ 1st album “Spice” in March 1997 in the UK, and their 4th single to reach number one in the UK charts. It became the official Comic Relief single for 1997 and 2,200,000 copies were sold world wide.*

Who do these people think they are?

And they call the Police “Scum”?

*Please note: I am not a Spice Girls fan.

Stupidville UK

2008-04-22T17:28:00.001Z

Oh yes, the town I live in contains the highest percentage of stupid people in the whole world. Unfortunately most of them drive.

Just the other day I pulled my car over to the right hand side of the road, ready to drive diagonally across the road to reverse my car into my drive. I saw a car approaching from the other direction, but seeing as the person had to stop at the crossing there was obviously no imminent danger of us having a head on collision. I have no idea what was going through the mind of this driver but as she passed she looked at me as if I was completely mad and muttered something under her breath. Did she think I was actually going to continue driving on the wrong side of the road for the whole length of the road? Has she never seen anyone park facing oncoming traffic before?

This isn’t the first time I have received funny looks when parking my car on my drive. I have no idea why but the whole “reversing car into drive” thing seems to completely confuse everyone in the vicinity. It’s like they’ve never seen it done before.

I seem to have the same problem when I’m parking in town. Today I was in a car park when I pulled diagonally across the “road” to reverse into a parking space, but the person in the car behind me pulled up right behind me! So naturally I shouted (as you do when you forget that your window is wound down) “Stop being so stupid! It’s obvious I’m reversing into a space! Why else would I drive diagonally across the road?” I don’t know if he heard me or not, but he backed off, and as he passed I gave him one of those “if looks could kill you would be dead right now” looks.

Sometimes people are a little overly patient though. Approaching crossroads on my way home there was a car sitting in the middle, facing me, waiting for me to pass so that he could turn. Now I make no exaggeration when I say I was still half way up the flamin’ road and a long way off from the junction – this person had all the time in the world to turn into the road, but I still had to flash him before he did.

Give me strength. It’s bad enough when pedestrians lack road sense, but other motorists?

You Are Now Entering… The Twilight Zone

2008-04-10T13:10:00.000Z

I know; I’m a very naughty, lazy, blogger. I haven’t blogged in ages, but in truth, nothing very blog worthy has happened in my life of late. Of course, I still haven’t told you about the time I was hunted down by a police dog last summer, but I shall save that for another time now.

Today the most bizarre thing happened. I woke up and took out one of my ear plugs to see what time it was (I know; I still haven’t worked that one out yet either). It was 1pm on the dot. But when I went to return the ear plug, it had gone! I sat up, expecting to find that it had rolled under me (I know; I still haven’t figured out how something can roll under an immovable object, but it does sometimes). Still no ear plug. In fact, I virtually stripped the whole bed looking for it. It was nowhere. It had vanished.

Now, I’m familiar with the tooth fairy and the sock monster, but an ear plug taker? In front of my very eyes? (I know; I still haven’t figured out what “very eyes” are, but it sounds good)

Obviously by this time Mr Man had stirred.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“I’m looking for my ear plug. I took it out to see what time it was (yeah, I still haven’t worked it out yet) and now I can’t find it”
“What is the time?” he asked out of interest.
“It’s one O’clock” I answered, as I looked at my watch again. I don’t know why I looked at my watch again because I already knew what the time was. I suppose it’s one of those pointless things that we do, like when old people look at their watches when you offer them a cup of tea. It seems that these little time keepers hold the answers to all of life’s important questions – like whether to have a cup of tea or not.

However, this time when I looked it was 12pm on the dot. Eh? How could I have misread that? I could understand it if it was 5 past 12 and in my bleary eyed state had mistaken it to be 1pm, but…

There was only one explanation for it – we had travelled back in time! Had The Ear Plug Taker reversed time so that I wouldn’t remember him/her/it taking my ear plug? And what do they do with them?

I suppose, for now at least, that will remain one of life’s unanswered questions…

Little Britain Abroad...

2008-03-22T23:18:00.004Z

... Kenny Craig in Supermarket Sweep!

This is easily the funniest thing I have seen in the news for a long time.

“Police in Italy have issued footage of a man who is suspected of hypnotising supermarket checkout staff to hand over money from their cash registers.

In every case, the last thing staff reportedly remember is the thief leaning over and saying: "Look into my eyes", before finding the till empty.”
BBC News

I confess; the first thing I did when I read that last line is check the date to see if it was April the 1st!

I Have Piles

2008-03-11T02:44:00.001Z

Yep, I have piles. Piles of washing, piles of dishes, piles of dust, piles of unopened mail…

Someone told me you could get a cream for it to soothe the itching. Is that the itching to run away? She didn’t say how or where to apply it though…

Shaken not Stirred

2008-02-27T09:55:00.003Z

It seems Inspector Gadget was right – the public believe that every thing that goes wrong is the fault of the Police. Why else would so many people ring the Police to report that they felt a tremor last night and that it woke them up?

What do they expect the Police to do about it?

Crash and Burn

2008-02-13T17:59:00.002Z

I finally have my new laptop up and running, which means I can now watch YouTube videos without my laptop over heating and exploding! So...

I was searching for the Sheryl Crow song "Crash and Burn" last night on YouTube, and came across this incredible singer by the name of Corinne Lucy. I strongly recommend that you check out all her YouTube videos here, and also her MySpace here where she has some full studio recordings of some of her own tracks. Apart from having a beautiful voice she also seems to be a bit of a... nutter, which I kind of like in people.

Ok, this is the moment of truth... can I figure out how to include a YouTube video in a blog post?

Some of my favourites include Songbird, Woman, and... well, most of them really.

A Commercial Break

2008-01-21T22:58:00.000Z

I realise I haven’t updated this blog for quite a long time. View it as a commercial break; time to put the kettle on, nip to the loo, get the chocolate digestives out, or whatever else it is you do to avoid watching those annoying TV adverts.

For those of you who like to stay put and be entertained by the adverts…

Tesco have an amazingly special offer on Crunchy Nut Cornflakes at the moment. Buy one box for £2.58 or buy two boxes for £2.50! They’re paying you 8p to take a second box! That’s better than Buy One Get One Free!

Every little helps.

I See Stupid People

2008-01-05T18:36:00.000Z

.
I was in Subway’s the other week.

“Can I have a serviette please?” I asked the lad behind the counter.
“What’s one of those?” he asked, confused.
“You know, tissue to wipe my hands on”
It's only when someone else handed me one that he said:
“Oh, I call them napkins”

Yeah, same thing Einstein.

You think that’s bad. I was shopping for a frame today.

“Do you have any frames 50 x 60 cm?” I asked the shop assistant, who was probably in her 40’s.
“Let’s see… we have this one – 40 x 50 cm?” she offered.
“No, that’s too small” I said. Then she went on to offer me frames that were too big.
“What size did you say you wanted?” she asked eventually.
“50 x 60 cm” I confirmed.
“So that’s more of a square shape really isn’t it?”
“Umm, no, not really”

How can 50 x 60 cm be more of a square shape than 40 x 50 cm?

Changing the subject slightly (although maybe not completely) I thought I’d like to try my hand at knife throwing as a new hobby. I saw a lovely cleaver in town today…

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Here’s a question for you…

2008-01-04T20:24:00.000Z

When I’m doing a turn in the road to reverse my car into my driveway, why do pedestrians on the pavement stop and look at me as if I’m aiming right for them and I’m going to mount the curb to run them over?

Seriously though; how many Irish Cream Truffles do you recon I could eat and still be under the driving limit? (Alcoholic Irish Cream silly, not dairy cream made from Irish cows!)

Just Another Day

2008-01-01T22:25:00.000Z

.
“Thirty Kenyans including many children have been burned to death in a church, after seeking refuge from the mounting violence over last week's elections.”

“A suicide bomber in Iraq has killed 30 people in an attack in the capital Baghdad, police reports say.”

“At least 13 people have been killed in attacks by gunmen on two police stations and a hotel in the Nigerian oil city of Port Harcourt.”

Happy New Year.

News headlines quoted from BBC News

Today's Top Worst Tip

2007-12-29T23:15:00.000Z

Magic Knickers.

They're about as magic as Tesco's mushrooms. The value ones.

At £35 a pair I'd recommend that you save your money for... oh I dunno... a Betamax video maybe.

They didn’t suck me in one inch. Not even half an inch. Nothing. Zilch. Zero. Diddly squat. Zip.

They did, however, give me an excellent workout trying to get into the bloomin’ things, and I concede that they would be useful in sub-zero temperatures seeing as they start somewhere near your armpits and end at your knee caps.

My final words on the subject:
Not attractive, and not practical in a toilet emergency.

Sigh. I guess I'll have to pass on the chocolate for a while.

.

Good Neighbours?

2007-12-27T14:51:00.000Z

After he had gone she played “their song” over and over again.

“Nobody gonna love me better, I must stick witu forever…”

She had already forgiven him for those hurtful words he had shouted at her before he walked out, slamming the door behind him. She regretted every hurtful word she shouted back at him. She just wanted him back, and wanted everything to be right again.

“A lover’s quarrel” I thought to myself. “He’ll be back when he’s cooled down”

These neighbours seemed different to the last ones. The neighbours we had previously were not much more than kids, and behaved as such. Loud friends, louder rave music, and shabby curtains that were never opened. They didn’t really have arguments as such; that would involve too much dialogue. But they had had fights.

When the new neighbours took the time to decorate the whole house before moving in, I took that as a good sign.

“It looks like they’ve finally moved in” I said to Mr Man one night. As I parked the car on our drive I had noticed people sitting in the living room by lamp light. There was a pram in the corner of the room, and a pretty lampshade hanging around the main light. They had obviously made a lot of effort to create a home for themselves, just in time for Christmas.

“They seem like a nice little family” I continued, and thought how reassuring it is to have a respectable family settled next door.

I was surprised to be woken up by their shouting on Boxing Day. But at least that’s all it was – shouting – not the smashing, banging, and cries of struggle we had become accustomed to with our previous neighbours. This argument was two sided too – she shouted as much as he did. I chose not to worry about her, although after he had left the sound of her heart breaking was audible to all as she played the same song over and over again.

“Nobody ever made me feel this way, I must stick witu”

But he returned, just as I predicted, and today was different.

Oh, the shouting continued, but this time it was interspersed with her sobs. There was more banging than yesterday, and eventually her sobs turned to howls of grief. Not the return I was hoping for - for her or for us.

And now, all is quiet.

I hate not knowing when to get involved, and when not to. The title question is really aimed at me. This year is the first time I have ever had this experience with neighbours.

No one really knows what goes on in the lives of their neighbours do they?

.

Celebration Time!

2007-12-15T19:08:00.000Z

Has it really been a week since I last updated this blog? In my defence I have been particularly unwell with what I thought was a vicious bout of Irritable Bowel, but what in fact turned out to be Viral Gastroenteritis.

After a week of passing watery poo and not being able to eat very much I feel quite tired and weak. But…

Today I have cause for celebration! Yes, it’s official…

.

.

.

Today I did my first proper poo! I never thought I could feel so happy and excited about such a thing! I rushed off to the supermarket to buy the biggest parsnip I could find to go with the roast dinner I intend on eating tomorrow in celebration!

Not quite ready for cake or chocolate yet though… although if you’d like to send me some anyway I’m sure I’ll feel better by the time it arrives!

Trouble and Strife – Mr Man and his Wife

2007-12-02T22:24:00.000Z

Mr Man and I have very different tastes in music. In fact it’s no understatement to say that I hate some of his favourite music (Aphex Twin?), and he definitely hates mine.

I was listening to a cassette this evening (remember those?) from 1995, and it is still possibly one of the best albums I have ever bought. It’s called “Together” and it’s a collection of 20 classic soul duets from 1966 through to 1992.

“I hate this song” Mr Man kept reminding me as I cheerfully sang along.
“But it makes me think of me and you!” I kept saying, and then sang louder and directly to him.

He was unimpressed.

I realise now that it may have been my singing ability that was the problem:

“Oh I love this next one” I said “but I know you hate it. Guess which one it is” I insisted, as I started singing the introductory music before the song had started.
“The A-Team?” he offered.

The song was actually “I knew you were waiting (for me)” by George Michael and Aretha Franklin. Does that sound like the A-Team? Ok, I suppose you had to be there, but I laughed and I laughed.
“Alright settle down” says Mr Man.

Track Listing:

Side One
I knew you were waiting (for me) – George Michael and Aretha Franklin
Sometimes love just ain’t enough – Patty Smyth and Don Henley
Where is the love – Mica Paris and Will Downing
Baby, come to me – Patti Austin and James Ingram
Don’t know much – Linda Ronstadt featuring Aaron Neville
We’ve got tonight – Kenny Rogers and Sheena Easton
If you were with me now – Kylie Minogue and Keith Washington
You are everything – Dianna Ross and Marvin Gaye
Ain’t nothing like the real thing – Marvin Gaye and Tammi Terrell
Up where we belong – Joe Cocker and Jennifer Warnes

Side Two
Endless love – Dianna Ross and Lionel Richie
With you I’m born again – Billy Preston and Syreeta
Tonight I celebrate my love – Peabo Bryson and Roberta Flack
You’re all I need to get by – Marvin Gaye and Tammi Terrell
Stop, look, listen (to your heart) – Marvin Gaye and Dianna Ross
It takes two – Marvin Gaye and Kim Weston
Too much, too little, too late – Johnny Mathis and Deniece Williams
Reunited – Peaches and Herb
Solid – Ashford and Simpson
Teardrops – Womack and Womack

What Colour Crayon Are You?

2007-12-01T23:15:00.000Z

I know, I know, I keep posting "lazy posts" at the moment. But at least I'm still posting! One of my other blogs hadn't been updated since August!

I came across this personality quiz in Helena's blog. So, this is me: (I would like to have been a green crayon or a brown crayon just because I like those colours, but there you are... life is like a box of crayons, and you never know what you're gonna get!)

You Are a Blue Crayon

Your world is colored in calm, understated, deep colors.

You are a loyal person, and the truest friend anyone could hope to find.

On the inside, you tend to be emotional and even a bit moody.

However, you know that people depend on you. So you put on a strong front.

Your color wheel opposite is orange. Orange people may be opinionated, but you feel they lack the depth to truly understand what they're saying.

What Color Crayon Are YOU?

Tell me what this says about you in the comments section.

Today’s Top Tip

2007-11-27T23:10:00.000Z

Move somewhere with more day light hours in the winter months.

Toxic Waste

2007-11-19T17:54:00.000Z

Ok, slightly later than promised, but here is a photo of the sweets you (should) have all been looking for!

I knew this would be a challenge that Trainee Paramedic couldn’t resist, but it seems even he couldn’t find them!

“I did actually look for them (albeit discreetly, being 22 and all, he he) but to no avail”

It seems I shall have to embark on a mission to find which stores stock them.

But TP continues:

“The most sour sweets I know are from an old fashioned sweet shop near where I work, and I love buying them, and handing them out at work to see people's reactions. I find it hilarious, but I have received a few choice words in response! ha ha.”

Hehehe, TP I like your style! But I wonder how the two sweets compare…

Today’s Top Tip

2007-11-16T21:08:00.000Z

If a bad smell follows you around - it’s probably you.

Retail Therapy

2007-11-10T18:13:00.000Z

I love shopping. I love finding the squeaky trolley that won’t go the way you want it to. I love being sandwiched between the slow shoppers in front and the ones trying to get past me from behind. I love having my personal space invaded by shoppers who seem to follow me into every aisle and stand close enough for me to feel their breath on my neck. I love having to stand around for ages waiting for that person to move out of the way of that shelf I am trying to reach. I love it when the item I want is out of stock, or when there are only a few of them left and the person blocking my way grabs all of them. I love it when that person with a trolley full of shopping sees me heading for the till with only five items in my arms, and rushes to get there before me. I love being given a handful of change because the cashier doesn’t have any notes. I love not being able to move my car because a couple of shoppers have decided to stand around and have a conversation in front of it. I love the sound of my shopping falling over in the boot, and I love it when the bags split as I lift them out.

It’s no wonder women love shopping so much.

Full Toxie Head!

2007-11-05T23:07:00.000Z

Well, I’m not sure what’s going on at the moment. Bizarre things always seem to happen to me at this time of year. Last year I lost my brain function and couldn’t drive or spell anymore. This year… I don’t know…

I accompanied Mr Man to another Table Tennis match on Sunday. After watching a ball flying around for three hours I usually begin to lose the will to live, but this time we were there for over six hours! I hate to say it but… I really enjoyed it – what’s going on?
And…
This evening I went to the shop for some milk. Now usually I would come home with various bars of chocolate (and probably forget the milk), but you know what? I didn’t buy any chocolate! Now I know there is something wrong!

What I did come home with though was some lovely sweeties! No, I’m not talking about Foxes Glacier Mints, Werther’s Originals, or some other hard boiled sweets designed for the over 60’s. I’m talking about the “hazardously sour candy” – Toxic Waste!

On the plastic pot reads:

How Long Can You Keep One in Your Mouth?
60 seconds – Full Toxie Head!
45 seconds – Toxie Wannabe!
30 seconds – Cry Baby!
15 seconds – Total Wuss!

Not knowing what to expect, Mr Man and I both popped one in our mouths at the same time to see who would be the first to spit it out! I’m very proud to announce that we both lasted 60 seconds and beyond!

So now it’s your turn! If you don’t try this out and tell me how long you managed to keep one in your mouth for I’ll presume that you were just too scared!

World Domination – by Sat Navs

2007-11-01T01:05:00.001Z

As mentioned previously, Grannys.Myth.Peeler is doing a grand job of peeling away the myths and lies of this world, even though some people may doubt the truthfulness of his tales. I for one am completely convinced of the truth of these accounts, having experienced similar situations myself.

Allow me to draw your attention to his post Will Robots Ever Have a Sense of Humour? Well yes, I believe they already do, but for those of us on the receiving end of their “humour” it’s rarely, if ever, funny. Consider this true life account:

We bought our Sat Nav a couple of years ago now. I should have known from the start that there was “something not quite right” when the female voice started giving me directions after I had specifically selected the male voice. So obviously, being the strong and determined woman that she is, she wasn’t impressed with me referring to her as “the bimbo on the dashboard”. I meant it as a joke, but women can be so touchy.

The problems started one night when I was driving to an unfamiliar area in the next town. She suddenly started giving me vague directions like “bear left” instead of “exit left” when I was on a dual carriage way. I was unimpressed. After much shouting on my part, along the lines of “You stupid Bimbo, what the hell does ‘bear left’ mean?” she decided to retaliate by taking me round a whole housing estate before finally directing me to my destination. I’m sure this road looks familiar... I kept thinking to myself. It must have taken about an hour just to get to the next town.

Directing me home she took me on a completely different route along dark country lanes. I had no idea where I was and I was starting to doubt the reliability of this thing.
“Bear right” she said eventually.
“Bear right? There’s only one lane!” I shrieked.
“Bear right” she said again.
In the dark I suddenly noticed a turning to the right, sign posted with the name of my home town. I slammed my foot on the brake and screached to a halt just before the turning. What happened to ‘turn right’? Once again she was being deliberately vague, but my journey home only took about 10 minutes compared to the hour it took me to get there! She was obviously making a point – I was dependant on her; completely at her mercy; in no position to be insulting her at all.
“Stupid Bimbo” I muttered.

“Continue for 26 miles” she told me on another recent trip, and then seconds later “Continue for 3 miles”.
“Make your bloomin’ mind up” I complained.
Further along the road she said “In point 6 miles exit left”. Now, I don’t know about you but personally, not being a human odometer, I don’t know how far 0.6 miles is of the top of my head.

(Of course the mathematical part of my brain is now telling me that there are 3600 seconds in one hour, so if I was driving at 70 mph it would have taken me 51.428571 seconds to drive one mile, which means 0.6 miles would take me 30.857143 seconds. But it would have taken me more than 30.857143 seconds to work that out, by which time I would have missed my exit.)

“Exit left” she reminded me as we approached the slip road, and then
“At the roundabout take the fifth exit”.
“Umm, but that’s going back the way we came…” Maybe I took the wrong exit off the motorway? I thought to myself. Dutifully I rejoined the motorway. About 3 miles down the road (which I’m guessing may have taken me approximately 2 minutes and 34.28571 seconds) she said:
“In point 6 miles exit left” and then
“At the roundabout take the fifth exit”…back onto the motorway again!
I could be driving up and down the motorway all day at this rate, I thought. Predictably, 3 miles down the road she tried to get me to leave the motorway at the same exit again!
“No! I’m not doing it!” I shouted.
“Exit left”
“No!”
“Exit left”
“I’m not playing your silly games anymore! I’ll find my own way home!”
I’m not sure if I heard her huff with annoyance, but once we had passed the exit she reluctantly gave me the correct directions:
“Continue straight for 23 miles”
We had reached a “stale mate”.

I wonder if she considers us “even” now. One thing is for sure – I won’t be calling her a bimbo again.

The Things We Do For Love

2007-10-27T13:56:00.000Z

We snuggled up on the sofa together. It was a few minutes past midnight.

“Happy Anniversary” we said to each other.
“Thank you for marrying me” I continued.
“Thank you for marrying me” Mr Man replied.
“Well, thank you for having the courage to ask me! Or even the courage to tell me you liked me!” I argued.

We then recalled how our relationship began…

I’d known Mr Man since 1993. For him it was love at first sight. He used to meet me at work and walk me home sometimes, but it was a few years later when we really started to become friends. Mr Man was living with his mother at the time and they had been receiving silent calls at their home, which was more than a little unsettling for her.

A friend was visiting me one night when I decided to call Mr Man to invite him round for the evening. As I reached for my phone book my friend reeled off the number to me.
“How do you remember that?” I asked.
“I just have a head for numbers” she shrugged.

Hmm… very strange, I thought.

Later that evening when all my guests had left, including Mr Man, I could hardly wait to call him to tell him what had happened. I called him on his mobile phone. He hadn’t reached home yet so he pulled over into a side road.

“I think I know who your silent caller is” I blurted out, and I explained what had happened.
“Why would she keep calling our house?” he asked.
“It’s obvious; she likes you!” I exclaimed.
“Oh, that backfired a bit then” he mumbled.
“What do you mean?” I asked, confused.
“I was hoping for someone else to like me” he replied nervously.
“Who’s that?” I asked shyly.
“You” was his simple reply.
“Well, it didn’t backfire then did it?”

And so began our ~~ridiculously high telephone bills~~ romance on the 25th October 1996, as Mr Man sat freezing in his parked car and we chatted on the phone until the small hours. The things we do for love eh?

One year and two days later we were married, and the rest is history as they say. Today we celebrate our 10th wedding anniversary.

Incidentally, the silent calls stopped when I just happened to mention to my friend one day that the police were going to trace the calls.

What I love about Mr Man

Happy Days

2007-10-15T13:52:00.000Z

Sunday, Monday, Happy Days! Tuesday, Wednesday, Happy Days! Thursday, Friday, Happy Days! Saturday, what a day! Rockin’ all week with you!

Yes, I’m back and full of beans! I’ve taken my Prozac*, had a bath, washed my hair, and even managed to get dressed before sun set.

Strangely… I’m really looking forward to my next opportunity of sitting in an unbearably uncomfortable chair and watching a ping pong ball fly around for three hours. And I’ve had the same incredibly irritating song going round in my head for over a week now, but I’m actually starting to enjoy it, which is a little worrying.

Today I have an unusual desire to go shopping. I know; I don’t understand it either. If I wasn’t so damn happy I’d be worried for two reasons:
1. It’s going to cost money, and
2. It’s unlikely that I will still be in a good mood by the time I return home.

But I’ll take my flexible friend with me and if anyone gets on my nerves I’ll just ping their nose with it. Or sing to them…

“I know a song that will get on your nerves, get on your nerves, get on your nerves, I know a song that will get on your nerves, get get get on your nerves…” Altogether now...

*I’m not actually taking Prozac, but you catch my drift.

Back So Soon?

2007-10-11T23:27:00.000Z

I accompanied Mr Man to a Table Tennis match tonight. I didn’t have much choice; I’m his chauffer and the match was too far away for me to drop him off and pick him up again later. I don’t get any extra pay for waiting around though.

So faced with three hours of watching a ping pong ball flying to and fro before my eyes, what else could I do but get out my pen and note pad?

Being in a permanent bad mood, as I am at the moment, I had absolutely no desire to talk to anyone and took an instant disliking to everyone I met. Well, everyone in the opposing team anyway.

The middle aged woman was far too chirpy and chatty for my liking. Don’t you find that when you feel like you want everyone to die you always want the happy ones to die first?
“I hope she doesn’t speak to me” I said to Mr Man.
At least when she played she wasn’t afraid to give credit where it was due to the opposing player, which is more than I can say for the young lad who was in their team.

I suppose he must have been in his late teens or early twenties. Spraying his bat with a fancy solution and using a specialised cloth to wipe it with, he obviously fancied himself as a serious player. Do you know what Mr Man uses? Gob. Yep, he spits on his bat and wipes it on his trousers* and that’s enough to give his bat the sticky surface he requires for his spiny shots.

This young lad was so incredibly confident of his own abilities; he oozed arrogance. He first played against our Rastafarian player, who is so laid back that when I first saw him play last week he was actually whistling. I’m sure that’s all part of his hustler routine. Picture the scene; an old man with a grey beard, turns up to play wearing a jumper and a woolly hat over his mass of locks. During warm up he moves slowly around the table and you’re not quite sure if that’s because of his age, his Jamaican “soon come” attitude, or the weight of his hair. The young, athletic looking player was obviously confident of an easy win and even during the warm up he smirked as he smashed the ball across the table and past our old Rasta man. Now that's just not cricket.

The game started and our Rasta player allowed his opponent to win the first few points before deciding it was time to play. Even Mr Man was fooled.

“I bet he smokes Marijuana” Mr Man said.
“You can’t be so prejudiced and stereotype people like that these days” I replied.
“Yeah, but I bet he does”

Whatever he lights in his spare time, tonight he was on fire at the table. As he won point after point I could see the young lads’ frustration growing, and finally he retreated back to his chair with his tail between his legs, after being beaten 3 - 0**.

The only player from the opposing team who seemed inoffensive to me and least likely to irritate was the round bald man who spoke with an Irish accent. But when he got up to play I didn’t know where to look to stop myself from laughing.
“What the hell was that?” I asked Mr Man, referring to the bald mans serve.
He looked like he was juggling a hot hard boiled egg between his bat and his free hand, and when he finally decided to hit it across the table he cocked his leg at the same time. I didn’t know if he was playing or peeing. So that brightened up my evening somewhat.

When it was Mr Mans turn to play the cocky young lad I whispered in his ear:
“Annihilate”
Ok, I know I said annihilate but 11 – 3** in the first game? I almost felt sorry for the boy. Almost.

Mr Man played a killer shot, right across the table to his far right. The lad nearly did the splits trying to reach it.
“That was mean” he said to Mr Man.

No, that’s Table Tennis.

The final outcome of the evening for the team was 10 – 0**. Is this the silver lining you were referring to Aiders?

*He's not the only player to do this I have learnt. Some of the top players in the county lick their bats like lolly pops. Eurgh. Where's the mouthwash?

**There are 3 players in each team, and they all play each other. Finally two players from each team play in the doubles, which brings the total number of games played to 10. In each game, the players play the best of 5 (or the first to 3). In each individual game, or “end” as they call it, the winner is the first to win 11 points by 2 clear points.

World Domination – by Mice

2007-10-03T22:49:00.000Z

Grannys.Myth.Peeler really is a myth peeler. He peels away the layers of falsehoods to reveal the truth to his readers. Many people may think of him as a paranoid, slightly delusional, conspiracy theorist – or a fruit cake in layman’s terms - but let me tell you, never has a man been so accurate in his explanations of the inexplicable.

Take his story The Giant Mouse That Saved the World for example. Ok, there was no giant mouse; he turned out to be a Ginger Tom, but the little guy (who was a mouse) had everything planned out and was ready to take on the whole world – until he got eaten by the Ginger Tom of course. What does this prove? Only that cats are bigger than mice, but who has the brains eh? Consider this true life account:

I was talking to my brother the other day, and he was telling me how he discovered that mice are taking over his garage. He said he noticed the first mouse when he reached up to get a bag of rabbit food from a shelf and the mouse fell out of a hole in the bag! Screaming like girl (as frightened men do) he ran to safety. “This is war” he decided, and promptly went out to buy a mouse trap.

He proceeded to tell me how he laid the trap, not with cheese (which is another myth) but with chocolate. He checked the next day, and sure enough, there was a dead mouse in his trap. Developing a lust for blood he set the trap again and could hardly wait until the next morning to see if he had caught another mouse. However, the mice had already wised up to this trick, and had removed the chocolate without getting caught.

“Oh, so you’re a wise guy eh? We’ll see about that!” he hissed, and this time he set the trap with sticky chocolate caramel. Sure enough, the next day he found another dead mouse. With an evil laugh he set the trap again and waited…

But nothing could have prepared him for what he found the next day, or more to the point, what he didn’t find. There was no sticky chocolate caramel… there was no dead mouse… but there was no mouse trap either.

Believing that the mouse must have ran away with his leg trapped in the mouse trap, he searched his entire garage, but found nothing. Slightly baffled, he took himself off to the shops to buy another trap.

Now if the missing trap didn’t unsettle him slightly, what he came back to completely filled him with horror. He went back into his garage to set another trap when he noticed, there in the middle of the garage floor… the missing mouse trap! The mice were playing games with him!
“They’re going to get me for killing their brothers!” he wailed, and ran inside his house and locked all the doors and windows.

Nervously he told me his tale over the telephone. While we were talking we heard a strange clicking noise, like when someone picks up the telephone extension.
“Was that you?” I asked.
“No, we don’t have an extension” he replied “wasn’t it you?” he asked.
“No, we don’t have an extension either…”

“It’s the mice! They’re taking over the world I tell you!”

Well, that will teach him to play with the ~~big~~ little but brainy boys.
Don’t mess with mice. You have been warned!

Coming next: World Domination – by Sat Navs

Hello and Welcome

2007-10-01T00:15:00.000Z

If you have come here via Inspector Gadgets post “Shut Up and Drive” and you are looking for something relating to Mental Health, then you might like to visit my other blog.

Thanks for visiting.

Trouble and Strife – Mr Man and his Wife

2007-09-27T13:56:00.000Z

It’s started. The cold weather has rolled in and poor Mr Man won’t get any peace until spring.

He’ll lie in bed with only enough duvet to just about cover one leg, and then he’ll hear a little voice squeak from inside the cocoon lying next to him; “I’m cold! There’s a draft! I can feel a draft!”

Either that or he’ll wake to find himself hanging off the edge of the bed.
“You’re pushing me out of bed!”
“But there’s a draft! I’m trying to cuddle up to stop the drafts”
“But I’m falling out! Move over”
“But there’s a draft! I can feel a draft!”

And heaven forbid if he turns over in the night.
“Stop flapping the covers about! There’s a draft! I can feel a draft!”

Imagine that every night for the next six months. It’s a wonder he’s never bought a sleeping bag for me – one with a draw string around the neck!

Today’s Top Tip

2007-09-22T13:14:00.000Z

When you’re feeling extremely stressed deep breathing exercises may or may not help. But I strongly recommend a box of Thornton’s chocolates (the Continental ones of course).

Oh yes. In a situation like this you need quality and quantity.

Love Today

2007-09-21T23:59:00.000Z

A single from the album “Life in Cartoon Motion” by Mika. It reached number 6 in the UK charts in 2007.

You must be kidding – I hate today. I am so stressed I feel like my head is going to explode right off my shoulders.

Feeling absolutely exhausted after a sleepless night, I just scraped my unwashed hair back into a pony tail and threw on some sloppy joes to pop into town this afternoon. But deciding which sloppy joes was a nightmare! What sort of stupid weather are we having at the moment? How do you dress for this time of year? Looking out of the window it seemed like it was blowing a gale outside, so I decided to go into town wearing a jumper. Surely that would be cooler than wearing a jacket…?

So with unwashed hair, and feeling extremely hot, flustered, and sloppy, I go about my business in town. Why do I always bump into someone I know when I look and feel like an absolute minger?* How embarrassing is that?

I decided to go into the “Pound Shop”. Every town probably has one. You know the ones; every item in the shop is £1. “Yes that’s right! Every item is just £1!” says the over enthusiastic voice over the tannoy as you walk around the store. One shopper pointed to an item on a shelf, and grabbing the attention of a shop assistant asked:
“Excuse me, how much is that?”
Yes, people really are that stupid in this town.

I go into another shop and whilst searching for my diet Pepsi I notice a shop assistant looking very important with her clipboard and pen, obviously supervising stock control in the store.
“Excuse me” (we’re very polite in this country apparently) “do you have any diet Pepsi?” I ask.
“I’m sorry, we don’t at the moment” she replies.
“That’s ok. Thanks anyway” I say, and as I turn the corner into the next isle I come face to face with a shelf full of diet Pepsi…

I tend to get rather stressed when I’m shopping, and when I’m stressed I have personal space issues. I can’t even stand people walking past me or being in the same isle; it makes me want to scream at people “Just get away from me! You have the whole damn store to shop in; why do you have to stand in the same isle as me?” I swear I’m going to freak out in a store one day and end up getting myself arrested. Ok, when I’m feeling sane I realise that this is a little over the top, but when is it ever acceptable to stand so close to someone in a queue that you brush against them?

So it was just another ordinary day really. Lack of sleep; feeling exhausted; stupid people everywhere; people trying to walk through me; people standing too close to me; and bottles of pop rolling around on the floor.

Nothing much to love if you ask me.

*The Urban Dictionary also describes Minger this way:

“Although now more commonly used to define an extremely visually challanging appearance, the word minger originally came from scottish gaelic, meaning 'septic vagina'.

Now often used by chavs all over Britain to define anything remotely disgusting”
Spelling mistakes and lack of capitalization courtesy of Urban Dictionary.

Nice huh? So I’m either a septic vagina or I’m a Chav. At least I know how to use a spell checker.

Am I Really Here?

2007-09-20T17:17:00.000Z

“I think, therefore I am” - So said French Philosopher René Descartes, although he said it in French, obviously.

Is this statement really true? Can we really say that because we think we must exist? What if we only exist in someone elses imagination? What if we only exist in our own imagination? What if I’m really just a brain in a pickling jar, covered in dust in a laboratory somewhere, and in my imagination I believe I am sitting at my laptop typing these questions?

Foolish reasoning?

Then why the hell do people keep trying to walk through me like I don’t exist?!

Fashion Statement

2007-09-17T23:14:00.000Z

Feeling the chill of mid September air on my bare arms, my eyes were drawn to a cosy looking cardigan in a shop window. I promptly stepped inside to check the rail for my size.

At the checkout the woman made friendly small talk.

“It’s a lovely cardigan isn’t it?”
“Yes, it’s perfect. It will go with virtually all the colours in my wardrobe” I replied “…turquoise, purple, brown…” I continued.
“And it will go with black” the shop assistant chipped in.

No kidding Einstein. Is there any colour that doesn’t go with black? Where do they find these people?

Road Rage

2007-09-12T22:39:00.000Z

I actually quite like driving. It’s only other stupid road users that make the experience an unpleasant one, but give me an open road and some good music and I’m away. I quite like night driving for this very reason; most spongly bongle brains have gone home by then. I say most; there’s always some nelly who insists on driving at 25 mph through fear of accidentally going over 30 - even though the speed limit is actually 40 - or a Michael Schumacher wannabe almost pushing me along with his bumper.

But the most annoying road users have to be those stupid teenagers who ride around on those irritatingly noisy death traps they call “mini bikes”. Now, don’t get me wrong; I’m sure they are fantastic fun to ride on, but these things must have their place, and the road is not one of them – especially at night.

In the day time they ride around on the path or on the green where there are younger children playing - how long before one of them get seriously hurt? At night they ride on the road with no helmet and no lights, where unsuspecting motorists (i.e. me) risk accidentally killing one of them (which probably wouldn’t be a bad idea actually).

This summer the police have been trying to clamp down on these nuisance bikers, issuing fines and crushing the bikes into casino dice. (Why not crush them with the rider still on top, thus preventing any future offences?)

Trying to be a useful citizen I called the police one day to report nuisance bikers in our road. The lady kept me on the phone for ages asking for a description of the rider:

“What’s the colour of the bike?”
I don’t know; I can’t see it! It’s tiny and there’s someone sitting on it!
“What’s the hair colour of the rider?”
Err... he's blonde.

(Much tapping on a keyboard, reminiscent of that scene in “Meet the Parents” at the airport)

“What’s he wearing?”
Umm... white t-shirt, black bottoms, white stripes down the sides. He’s there now! I can see him through my window!

(More tapping on the keyboard)

“How old is he?”
I don’t know! Do you want me to go and ask him for his date of birth or something?
“And he’s got blonde hair you say?”
Yes! He’s there! He’s out there right now!

(More tapping)

“Do you know his name?”
What?
“Or where he lives?”
Blimey, do you want his eye colour as well? Why would I know anything about the yobs that live in my area? I thought that part was your job.*

I kept thinking: if you just send someone out they’ll be able to see what he looks like for themselves. Eventually our call came to an end:

“And he’s wearing a white t-shirt and black bottoms with white stripes down the sides?”
(Exasperated now) Yes!

(Yet more tapping)

“Ok, we’ll send someone out”
There’s no point love; he’s probably gone home for Christmas by now...

After I nearly ran one of them over the other night I called the police again. This time the gentleman I spoke to at the police call centre was much more efficient, helpful, and reassuring.

“Don’t you worry yourself; they know they’re in the wrong. It’s their own fault if they get hurt”

It was nice of him to say so, but it would still be traumatic to actually run someone over and have to wait for the results of an investigation. I know, because my brother has been through it himself.

The problem is no one wants to take on the responsibility of providing an area for these Kamikaze bikers to ride in. Surely if one of these delicate little petals was to seriously injure themselves, then their loving parents - who bought the contraption for them after careful thought and deliberation - would be in an uproar and would surely sue whoever was stupid enough to provide them with an area where they could ride without being a risk to the general public.

So I have to agree with the gentleman on the phone:

“Whoever invented those things should be shot”

*Not a true account of our conversation, mostly just what I was thinking.

Pussy Cat, Pussy Cat, Where Have You Been?

2007-09-09T18:49:00.000Z

“I’ve been to London to look at the queen”
Pussy-cat, pussy-cat, what did you there?
“I frightened a little mouse under the chair”

I travelled to London on Friday with my Curly Haired Friend. It’s something we had planned quite a while ago; not for sight seeing or shopping but to go to the M.A.D (Making a Difference) Art Installation at the Draywalk Gallery.

“We’re cultured we are” my Curly Haired Friend said to me the day we made the plans. Yeah, like bacteria in a Petri dish.

Having become accustomed, as I have, to meeting stupid people wherever I go, most of the day had a surreal quality about it. I’ve never met so many damn happy and polite people in my life. Complete strangers smiled and wished me farewell as I left the train. And what is it with all these free news papers being handed out at every street corner? As I looked around at the homeless-free clean streets I must admit I wondered if we had got off the train on another planet.

“Are we in London?” I asked my Curly Haired Cultured Friend.

My previous memories of London were busy, dirty streets; full of freaky people pushing and shoving; and homeless people tugging on my heart strings at every corner. This time the experience was more pleasant than a trip into the hostile town centre of the Country Bumpkin town I live in.

But it didn’t last; it never lasts. We were refused permission to board the 4.30 train with our off-peak tickets after missing the last off-peak train due to the tubes being stopped…

On the tube it was announced that two other lines had been closed due to “radio failure”, so we had to wait for others to climb aboard. Finally we were moving, but it wasn’t long before this tube stopped as well, with the driver announcing:
“I’m not sure, but I think there’s another tube ahead…”
I looked at my Curly Haired Friend and laughed:
“What sort of announcement is that?”
Then he continued:
“Well, I wanted to stay in Liverpool Street, but the Fat Controller* wanted me to move on…” he began. Blimey, I thought he was going to give us his life story. There was no head on collision and finally we were moving again, but it’s these events that led to us missing our train back to Bumpkin town.

The Female Fat Controller at St Pancras was very unsympathetic.
“Well, you’ll just have to buy another ticket”
“But it’s not our fault” my Curly Haired Angry Friend protested.
“And I haven’t got any money” I added.
“Well you’ll have to go to a cash point and get some then”
I was stunned at this response. For some of us, a cash point isn’t an endless supply of money. Luckily for both of us, the hormone problems I had a few months ago which made me experience intense rage had settled down. I just looked at her in disbelief. Finally she suggested we go to the ticket office to see what they could do for us there.

The man at the ticket office was friendly and sympathetic, but sadly unhelpful. He suggested we go to Kings Cross and ask for help there.

My Curly Haired Friend kindly offered to deal with the problem at Kings Cross, whilst I rested for a few minutes, and the man at the ticket office there suggested that we go to Thames Link, as that was the head office or something, and ask for help there.

The man at Thames Link wasn’t only unsympathetic; he was arrogant and irritating.
“The tubes are nothing to do with us, we have no responsibility for them at all; you’ll either have to buy another ticket, or wait until after 7pm”
He didn’t tell us anything we hadn’t heard already, but it was the way he said it.
“I hope you die” I told him before I walked away (as you do), although it lacked the venom he deserved. Why do so many people who work with the public lack basic people skills?

Eventually we resigned ourselves to the fact that we would have to wait until after 7pm to travel home again. We found ourselves a friendly little café (which had flies on the food) to sit in, and had a drink.

I didn’t see the Queen, or any mice for that matter, but despite the Female Fat Controller, and the Thames Link ticket office man, we had a really nice day.

*He didn’t actually call him the Fat Controller.

TODAY’S HEADLINE NEWS

2007-09-06T00:37:00.000Z

ADDITIVES ‘CAUSE BAD BEHAVIOUR’

Am I caught in a time warp? I thought we’d worked that one out 25 years ago, along with the knowledge that humans are responsible for climate change, but apparently this is “news”.

Trouble and Strife – Mr Man and his Wife

2007-09-05T03:34:00.000Z

It’s our wedding anniversary next month. I can’t wait; it’s always an exciting opportunity to learn something new about Mr Man. It’s a standing joke in our house that I always find out something I never knew about him on our anniversary. I remember we had been married for a whole year before I found out he liked onions, and two years before I knew he liked mushrooms.

A couple of years ago we were out in the car together and I was singing along with the stereo. I got the words wrong and tutted: “They’ve changed the words again”. Now this is something I have been saying for as long as I can remember – long before Mr Man and I married. He turned around and said to me: “It really irritates me when you say that”.
“What? I’ve been irritating you for the past 8 years and you’ve only just decided to tell me?”

Well, I laughed and laughed, and when I told my friend we both fell about laughing for ages. It still makes me laugh now.
“Alright, settle down” says Mr Man.

365 Not Out

2007-08-31T01:06:00.000Z

My first blogging anniversary and my 100th post!

Well, here I am, one year on since I first started blogging. With 100 posts on this blog, 63 posts between the other 2 blogs, and a list as long as your arm of unfinished, unstarted, or otherwise unpublished blog posts still to come, obviously I have far too much to say for myself.

I sometimes wondered if I would make it this far. Sometimes blogging has been mentally exhausting; other times emotionally draining. At times I couldn’t help but wonder if this writing phase would last or if I would simply dry up and run out of things to say. But here I am.

Some of my blogging highlights from the past year include:

• Receiving my first comment
• Receiving my first link from another blog
• Receiving my first email regarding my blog
• Having specific posts highly esteemed and linked to by others
• Having an incredible artist agree to illustrate one of my blogs

Reading the blogs of others has also been rewarding – when I’ve managed to keep up! The Blogosphere is ever revolving and never rests for a second. Someone somewhere is always writing a post; the pace is exhausting. I have read posts that have made me howl with laughter, and posts that have made me cry. Mostly blogs serve to give you a fascinating insight into the world of others, whether it be about their work, their health, or their family life – blogs are the ultimate fly-on-the-wall documentaries.

I have to say that for various reasons blogging is a journey of self discovery too. When writing on a particular subject, you tend to examine your own feelings on the matter, whether you choose to reveal those feelings in your post or not. Undoubtedly, each blogger gives away a part of themselves with each post they write.

Hmm… I guess I should now write a list of goals for the following year – kind of like new blog year resolutions. Well, I daren’t tie myself down to anything, but I hope the next year will be more of a steady flow of posts and less spasmodic.

So now, on with the show!

A Drink’s Too Wet Without One

2007-08-22T23:20:00.000Z

The slogan used in a British TV commercial for Rich Tea biscuits.

I’m aware that more and more of my posts are about food these days. I’m not sure why that is. Maybe it’s because I’m obsessed with food, and like a lot of comedians I like to make light of my weaknesses - and after all, I am a comedian.

There’s nothing really very funny to say about food though is there? There’s the old worn out joke “What’s the fastest cake in the world? – Scone” but depending on your pronunciation of the word “scone” it may or may not even make any sense, let alone be funny.

I wrote a very depressing post the other night about weight issues, which thankfully I decided not to post. I suppose this partly explains why there has been a lack of posts recently – because I write posts and then not post them – but there are other reasons too.

One is that I don’t know where all my time is going. I’m either asleep or in a trance staring at my computer screen, and it takes me about an hour to write just a few sentences, so when I have emails to write as well that’s more or less my whole day gone.

The other reason is that it is my blogging anniversary at the end of the month, and I really want to post my 100th post on my blogging anniversary! I know; that’s so ridiculously punctilious of me, but there you go, that’s how I am sometimes.

You see? I’m so obsessed with food that I’ve swallowed my own dictionary.

Do You Ever Get The Feeling…

2007-08-14T19:06:00.000Z

…that you’re missing something?

As I stood in the queue tonight to pay for my shopping at the local supermarket, I noticed that the man in front of me had a trolley full of tea bags.

“Hmm… he must run some kind of community group” I thought.

Then I noticed the man behind me. His trolley was full of light bulbs.

Very strange…

Fight Night

2007-08-02T15:10:00.000Z

Today I can hear a bit of cluttering around next door; no doubt clearing up after last nights fight.

“Did she just shout “help”?” Mr Man asked me at 1.30 this morning.
“I don’t know, I couldn’t make it out” I said.

Screaming, shouting, and banging are not unusual sounds from next door. Sometimes it’s accompanied by screams of laughter; other times by aggressive shouting. How do we know when it’s time to call the police? Maybe their relationship thrives on fights? It’s not a concept I personally understand, but so many people seem to live like that; how can that many people be wrong?

Mr Man and I had an argument ourselves last night.

“We’ll have a spare bit of money soon. I know you’ve been really missing your Mum, why don’t we pay for her flight over here?” I suggested.
“No, I want you to get a new laptop; you’ve put up with that rubbishy old thing for ages” Mr Man replied.
“I can wait a bit longer, it won’t hurt. It would be nice for you to see your Mum” I said.
“I know, but I want you to get something for yourself. It would be nice for you to have a new laptop instead of something that conks out every five minutes” he insisted.
“But I want us to spend it on something for you” I protested, “isn’t there something else you’d like?”
“No, I want you to spend it on yourself, you deserve it”

And so it went on…

Phew, we’re normal. I was beginning to think there was something wrong with us because we never argue.

My Best Buy

2007-07-31T02:07:00.000Z

And now for a real top tip…

This evening I bought a 200g jar of Nutella Chocolate spread to dip my mini doughnuts in. Yeah, that’s what I thought, a fantastic idea wasn’t it? But there’s more…

Recently I’ve had a problem with drinking glasses falling apart – usually in my hands while I’m washing up (bear with me on this; it’s not as completely random and unrelated to the jar of chocolate spread as it may seem). This leaves me with two problems: scarred hands and no glasses.

Whilst dipping my doughnuts in my jar of chocolate spread (as you do) it occurred to me that this jar would make a perfectly strong drinking glass – it’s thick glass, there is no screw thread at the top, and it’s actually drinking glass shaped rather than jar shaped. What’s more, the plastic “pop on” lid doubles as a can top for half used cans of food. All for 79p. What better excuse do you need for rushing out and buying half a dozen jars?

Oh, and the scars aren’t really that noticeable when your fingers are covered in chocolate spread.

Today’s Top Tip

2007-07-31T01:13:00.000Z

When travelling west don’t drive in the evening on a sunny day.

Yippee!

2007-07-18T23:34:00.000Z

My day just improved by 100%

I just found a crunch corner yoghurt in the back of the fridge!

This is incredibly good news because at 20 minutes past midnight it means that I don’t have to start making jellies in an effort to satisfy my sweet tooth - and I won’t have to keep getting out of my chair every five minutes to take a peek in the fridge to see if they have set yet. (Come on, you know we all do it)

You may be interested to know that I actually invented the crunch corner yoghurt, sometime back in 1983 – 1984. Sadly I’ve never been credited with this amazing flash of inspiration.

I was in senior school, and every day with my lunch I would have a yoghurt and a “poo cake” as we called them – or a chocolate covered cornflake cake – and I would mix the two together before eating it. Some people copied; some people thought I was odd or disgusting. But how many crunch corner yoghurts are now sold every week, eh? That many people can’t be wrong can they?

I also used to eat my chips with artificial cream, but that one didn’t seem to catch on.

Today’s Top Tip

2007-07-16T21:20:00.000Z

Cake. No knife required. Who needs slices?

Superstition Ain’t the Way

2007-07-13T19:39:00.000Z

A line from “Superstition”, a number 1 hit in the US for Stevie Wonder in 1972, reaching number 11 in the UK charts. From the album “Talking Book”.

It was Friday the 13th today. Statistically, I wonder if more people were late for work today than on any other day of the year. I wonder if more people burnt their toast this morning, or spilt their milk. I wonder if the Accident & Emergency departments were busier than usual, or if the Police had to deal with more Road Traffic Collisions. And I wonder if the Fire Service had a busier day.

I just wondered.

Three Little Words

2007-07-11T22:20:00.000Z

For smegs sake, the things you have to do for a line break. Why is the html tag not working?
Exhaustion. Pain. Frustration.

(Explanation. Absence. Apology.)

(Return. Soon. Hopeful.)
Pretty imaginative though eh? (White text on white background to produce spaces) I wonder if anyone will notice?

Punishment to Fit the Crime

2007-07-06T19:05:00.000Z

I’m not a violent person at all. But like most people, I get really irritated by stupid people and sometimes feel that I’d like to knock a bit of sense into them… preferably with a baseball bat… but in reality I know I could never hurt anyone or anything. I’m the type of person who covers my eyes when people fight on the TV.

One of my brothers on the other hand is completely different. He’s a bully. He’s extremely aggressive and is well known to the police for this and other reasons. When his name is typed into the computer at the police station his details display in red, and flashing!* Some of the things he has done to other members of my family are unimaginable, and they are rarely on speaking terms with him. It’s not a nice thing to say about your own brother, but really there is no other way to describe him – he’s just a nasty person.

He’s recently become a father again, this time to a son. I can’t help feeling resentful of this.** I would love children, but for various reasons I know it will never happen.

My Mum told me that he had “beaten someone up” again yesterday.
“Great. Nice to see he is taking the responsibilities of Fatherhood seriously” I replied. But actually I was forced to eat my own words.

He punched the man after seeing him repeatedly beat a child laying on the ground, with his belt. What did the boy do to be “deserving” of such a punishment? He was late home from school.

A neighbour came out and took the child into her home, and called the police. When the police arrived to take statements they learned that the boy was 9 years old. He said his Mother and Father regularly beat him and his 4 year old sister, sometimes beating her while she is naked.

Apparently the officer said he would take the boy home and “have a word” with his parents. Is this for real? I like to think that for reasons of confidentiality the officer couldn’t reveal what his course of action would be. Or maybe he presumes that people know what the procedure in such a circumstance is, and the expression “have a word” is all encompassing. Maybe any police officers reading could enlighten us as to what would actually happen in such a circumstance?

Anyway, it seems whatever my views of my brother are; there are always people far, far worse, and much less deserving of having the privilege of raising children.

*Does this really happen or was the copper pulling my leg?

**I really need to tackle this problem as his son is nearly 4 weeks old and, I’m ashamed to say, I still haven’t made the effort to see him yet.

That Explains It

2007-07-04T19:57:00.000Z

Yesterdays breaking news was that all eight suspects, held in connection with the London and Glasgow bombs, worked in the NHS. Most of them were doctors. That explains a lot about the state of the National Health System.

I’m not sure which I find most disturbing: the fact that we put our lives in the hands of people who would rather kill us than save our lives, or the fact that they are so completely incompetent – as proved by their failure to even blow up a burning car with a bomb in it.

As they were being arrested, the two men at Glasgow airport could be heard arguing.
“You’re supposed to light the wick sticking out of the bomb, not set fire to yourself!”
“It’s your stupid driving, I dropped the match!”

Earlier, in London
“Hello Dr Ayman al-Zawahiri; thank you for coming to the ‘phone. I’m sorry but I couldn’t detonate those bombs; I seem to have misplaced the detonator. Oh, I’m sorry, can you excuse me? I’m being interrupted by a patient…”

“Doctor, I feel much better after having my Gall Bladder removed, but I’ve noticed a very strange ticking sound…”

Creative Writing

2007-06-30T14:22:00.000Z

“What on earth goes on in that house next door?” I moaned to Mr Man one night.
“With all that banging around they could be hiding a body under the floor boards for all we know!” I joked. Then thoughtfully I added: “You know, I should write a story about that…” And in my teens I probably would have, but I just don’t seem to have the creative energy any more.

School will be breaking up soon for summer. It was about this time of year in my final year at junior school when I started writing a story about a little girl called Elizabeth, who lived in a haunted house. It was obviously meant as school work originally, but when the school term ended I took my unfinished story home with me and continued writing throughout the summer holiday. In September I started a new school with new teachers, and when I showed my story to my new English teacher he encouraged me to continue writing it, even allowing me to write it during class time instead of having to do the assignments given to the rest of the class. I don’t even remember what happened to that story now; one of the many pieces of creative writing that was lost many years ago.

Throughout senior school this same English teacher was always positive about my writing and I often received top marks for short stories or scripts that I had written, which is ironic considering the low grade I received in my English exams.* Part of the problem was probably the fact that, although I liked writing, I didn’t like reading. I felt that reading was the death of creativity for me; my head would be filled with someone else’s story, someone else’s imagination, and not my own. Besides, it was boring.

When I reached my fifth and final year in senior school history seemed to repeat itself and once again I started writing a story, a script this time, which wasn’t to be completed until after I had left school. A friend of mine who had stayed on in sixth form took the finished script into school one day, to show my ex English teacher. He returned it with a simple message: “Get it published”. Unfortunately I never did, and then one day when I was having one of my “moments” I threw it away.**

That was about 18 years ago now. I’ve asked myself many times why I don’t feel able to be as creative anymore.

Do the pressures of life just eat away at our imagination? Do we get too wrapped up in the “real world” to play “pretend” in our minds? Maybe my expectations are too high now, and I fear failure, which in turn stifles creativity? When I was younger I just enjoyed the experience of writing; who did I need to impress? Only my English teacher if I wanted good marks, but to be honest I didn’t care about school marks. I just wrote for me.

I need to get back to that; writing for me. There are several things in life that tell me I need to do it - often when I am reading or watching TV I feel “dissatisfied” with the outcome of the stories. In these circumstances one of several things will happen:

I’ll predict the ending, leading to the over used joke in our household where Mr Man asks: “How did you know that?” and I reply with “I wrote it”

I’ll get frustrated with story lines not being developed properly and end up wishing I had written it.

Or I’ll just get bored and stop reading or watching the thing altogether. (Or a combination of all three)

So you see, I need to write a story – for me. For the satisfaction. I can choose my characters; I can choose my ending. What better indulgence is there for someone as spoilt as I am?

*There were only two teachers who ever seemed to appreciate my writing; he was one of them, and the other was when I was schooled in Wales for a brief period.

**I’m not a hoarder and I have these moments when everything has to go in the bin, and then I spend the rest of my life regretting it. I wish now that I had kept a copy of everything I had ever written.

The Brutally Honest Personality Test

2007-06-27T00:55:00.000Z

I just strolled over to Catherine’s blog and I found the results to this personality test she had taken hilarious, so I couldn’t resist taking the test myself. Being as indecisive as I am, I found some of the questions quite hard, and to be honest there were times when neither option applied to me – like: who is better looking, Bill Gates or… some other incredibly ugly bloke, I can’t even remember his name.

Anyway, this is my result. The funniest thing is that it’s actually true! You won’t believe that as I glanced through the list at the bottom before taking the test I thought to myself “I’m probably a clown”.

Your Score: Clown- ESFP

53% Extraversion, 33% Intuition, 20% Thinking, 33% Judging

Congratulations. You are the buffoon of society, the class clown, the general funny guy/gal. Your purpose on earth was to serve as entertainment for the rest of us sane ones. We're laughing with you and at you. Some people would kill to be as funny as you. Other would rather just kill you.

You're spontaneous, fun-loving and optimistic. You're all in all an idiot.

You wanna know why? It's because you would rather have fun than concentrate on your duties and obligations. You act before you think. You talk before you think. All in all, you don't think that much at all.

You did terribly at school, didn't you? You were the class clown. Paid no respect to the teachers or to your fellow students. Paid no attention to your school work. And look where you are now... starting to regret your decisions?

Get down to earth. Find a real job and start taking care of your responsibilities. Sure, people love you, but they don't love you because they like you. They love you because you make them laugh. They love you because they can always look at you and say "Well, at least I did better off than him or her!"

...but at least you're funny, right?

*****************

If you want to learn more about your personality type in a slightly less negative way, check out this.

*****************

The other personality types are as follows...

Loner - Introverted Sensing Feeling Perceiving
Pushover - Introverted Sensing Feeling Judging
Criminal - Introverted Sensing Thinking Perceiving
Borefest - Introverted Sensing Thinking Judging
Almost Perfect - Introverted iNtuitive Feeling Perceiving
Freak - Introverted iNtuitive Feeling Judging
Loser - Introverted iNtuitive Thinking Perceiving
Crackpot - Introverted iNtuitive Thinking Judging
Sap - Extraverted Sensing Feeling Judging
Commander - Extraverted Sensing Thinking Perceiving
Do Gooder - Extraverted Sensing Thinking Judging
Scumbag - Extraverted iNtuitive Feeling Perceiving
Busybody - Extraverted iNtuitive Feeling Judging
Prick - Extraverted iNtuitive Thinking Perceiving
Dictator - Extraverted iNtuitive Thinking Judging

Link: The Brutally Honest Personality Test written by UltimateMaster on OkCupid, home of the The Dating Persona Test

So there you have it. It’s slightly depressing knowing that my finest quality is my sense of humour when I know damn well I’m not even that funny! I don’t know if anyone else noticed this but the percentage of each aspect of my personality totalled more than 100%... and I’m supposed to be the one with no brains!

Today’s Top Tip

2007-06-12T21:06:00.000Z

Don’t forget to add detergent when you put your washing on.

Goodbye, Mr. Chips

2007-06-11T17:13:00.000Z

It was a sad day when the chip shop at the end of our road closed. It had been there for at least 30 years from my memory, maybe longer. Strangely enough, I actually lived in this very same road when I was a child. My Mum used to see me across the road and then after I’d got our fish and chips I’d wait by the lamppost for my Mum to see me back across the road again.

The little row of shops that has stood there for so long is now being knocked down, to make room for more flats.

“I forgot to get a loaf of bread when I popped out for loo roll last night” I said to my Mum on the phone today.
“Can’t you just nip to that shop?” she asked.
“What shop?” I asked, confused.
“The shop at the end of your road” she replied.
“Mum, that shop hasn’t been there for the whole time I’ve lived here, and I’ve been here for 10 years in August!” I replied.

My Mum’s often a bit scatty, but where on earth has she been for the past 10 years?

“I’d heard that the chip shop was closed, but I didn’t know the shop had closed as well” she said.
“Mum, that shop hasn’t been open the whole time I’ve lived here!” I laughed. “They’re knocking that row of shops down now to build flats” I continued. “Anyway, was the chip shop run by an Italian family when I was a kid?” I asked.
“No, it was an Indian family. Don’t you remember the shop?” she replied.
“The chip shop?”
“Don’t you remember it?” she asked again.
“The chip shop Mum. Not the shop. The chippy”
“Oh I thought you meant the shop”

Blimey, it’s like visiting an old peoples home. I wouldn’t mind, but she’s only 57.

“You could do with a shop there really” she continued.
“Well, I know, but it isn’t going to happen now is it? They’re knocking it down!” I swear she’s a few chips short of a bag herself sometimes, bless her.
“I know; it’s a shame…”

Life on Mars

2007-06-09T22:52:00.000Z

It’s like nowhere you’ve ever been before. Everyone seems to know each other, and they all stand around in little groups chatting. The locals speak in a strange tongue, with words including ent, kent, shent, wunt, gooing and gonna. The elderly folk greet each other with “Er yoo or-roite me dook?” the literal translation of which is “Are you alright my duck?” This is a local expression which means something like “Hello my friend. How are you?” Strangely, there are no children to be seen anywhere.

It’s the local supermarket on a Saturday morning.

Oddly, the atmosphere is quite relaxed. There is no pushing or shoving; no shouting or screaming. I walk around wondering if I am in a dream. There is an orderly queue at the bakery section of people waiting to have their freshly baked loaves sliced. A slightly younger generation of shoppers quietly sing along with Dionne Warwick as they go about finding their goods of choice. The non offensive atmosphere is almost eerie. Am I mad, in a coma, or back in time?

I get to the checkout and I start putting my shopping onto the belt. It’s at this point that I realise that these Saturday morning folk have some bizarre superstitions. Apparently it is incredibly bad luck to allow two peoples shopping to touch.

The woman in front slowly turns her head to look at my shopping. She’s not really looking at my shopping; more the gap in-between her shopping and mine. I look up at her and she quickly looks straight ahead. I continue to unload my basket and I sense that her eyes are turning towards my shopping again. She shuffles uncomfortably and then impatiently looks to see if she will be served soon. The belt moves and the shopping starts to wobble. She is starting to inwardly panic. Did our shopping touch? A divider becomes available and she quickly grabs it. She sighs with relief. So do I; I don’t know what would happen but judging by the reactions of the woman in front it must be something catastrophic. Naturally then, when the gentleman behind me starts to put his shopping on the belt, I do the same. I hold on to my bottles of pop to make sure they don’t roll towards this mans shopping.

I finally make it safely to the checkout. Oh great; it’s the miserable bloke who tries to read my signature upside-down. Now I know this isn’t a dream. I anticipate a more true to life, stressful ending to my shopping trip.
“Would you like any help with your packing?” the old man asks. I only have a few items.
“Er…no. Thank you.” I stammer nervously. I hand him my card and he barely glances at it.
“Enter your pin please” he requests.

I don’t believe it. I got through the whole experience stress free. A smile breaks out across my face as I walk back to the car. I get in the drivers seat and close the door.

Damn. I forgot the potatoes…

Say Cheese

2007-06-07T23:37:00.000Z

I ate my cereal with gone off milk today. I have a stinking head cold and everything tastes gone off, so I thought it was just me. But no, the milk is off. My tummy told me so.

Despite having this dreadful head cold, fever, aches and pains all over, belly ache, and watery poo; I couldn’t get my loving brother to fetch a carton of milk for me (he made some excuse about having to work 12 hours every day this week), so this evening I dragged myself out, with Mr Man in tow, to the local 24 hour supermarket.

I hate shopping at the best of times. It makes me want to kill people:

I hate shoppers.
Why do they always have to stand or leave their trolley directly in front of the shelf you want to look at? And have you noticed that if you try to get to the shelf from a different angle they move so that they are still blocking your way? They walk incredibly slowly and sway from one side of the isle to the other so that you can’t pass them, and then they stand around and make you feel like you are in their way. The whole thing makes me feel so stressed that I can’t think straight until they have gone.

I hate shop workers.
They do the same thing as the shoppers but with their huge cages full of boxes. They burst through swinging doors with them and nearly run you over. They block the isles and leave boxes lying around everywhere. They stand there looking at you, and they make you feel rushed because you’re obviously in their way while they are trying to do their job. The whole thing makes me feel so stressed that I can’t think straight until they have gone.

I hate the shop.
Either they’ve sold out of whatever it is that you want or they don’t stock it anymore. Those loyalty cards that they give you are so that they can keep a record of what you buy on a regular basis, so that they can stop selling it. They change everything around in the shop so that you can’t find anything that you want and have to spend more time in the store feeling harassed by shoppers and workers. It’s not unusual for me to abandon my trolley and walk out of the store in sheer frustration. The whole thing makes me feel so stressed that I can’t think straight until I have gone.

I hate the noise.
The noise of those flippin’ cages being dragged along is absolutely deafening. I can’t think straight with the constant mindless chatter of the workers, and the incessant bleeping of the tills. And as for those self service tills… I want to smash a brick through the screen to shut the stupid voice up:
“Please scan your first item please scan your first item please scan your first item please scan your first item…”
Ok! I've scanned my first item already! Damn you, just shut up you stupid worthless piece of...
I’ve actually put my fingers in my ears whilst waiting in a queue before now.

I hate the journey there and back.
On the way to the supermarket tonight I saw an RAC van which had stopped at the side of the road. In my rear view mirror I noticed the car behind me indicating to over take both me and the van, because obviously I didn’t want to over take the van myself; I wanted to drive straight into it.

On the way home was another ~~numpty~~ van driver approaching the same round-a-bout as me from the right. I decided I had enough time to pull out, but then had to break as this person decided to take a short cut by going the wrong way around the round-a-bout. That’s one way of cutting down on fuel consumption I suppose…

Of course on the way home I have the added stress of being able to hear my shopping falling out of the bags and rolling around in the car.

I hate shopping. I really hate shopping.

Confused

2007-06-04T18:58:00.001Z

I had no inkling at all. The thought hadn’t even crossed my mind. I wasn’t worried, neither was I hopeful.

Mr Man, on the other hand, was impatient for an answer. Saturday night I took a test, but the faint blue line which threw me into panic wasn’t even visible to Mr Man with his glasses in another room and with poor night lighting. He was satisfied enough to get a good nights sleep.

I, on the other hand, was awake for a good deal longer, worrying about how he would react once he realised the truth.

I had to confess my concerns to him the following day, and after the initial shock and panic had worn off he seemed fine. The line was very faint though, and I needed to be sure. I took another test this morning… actually I’ve taken five in all over this weekend, and the only test to give a positive result was the first one I took, which was what started all this confusion in the first place.

So, I had a plan…

In the good old days women used to wait two months before consulting their doctor.

En Route to Madness

2007-05-30T21:22:00.000Z

Map reading is my new hobby. I bought an A-Z Street Atlas for our town and surrounding area yesterday and I have to say that it’s absolutely fascinating; I can’t put it down.

Mr Man keeps saying “I can’t believe you’re so engrossed in a map!” He thinks I’ve finally gone to Cuckoo Land.

I would, but I haven’t found it on the map yet…

Hide and Seek

2007-05-22T20:18:00.000Z

Hide and Seek was a 1984 single for family pop band “Five Star”.

I was suddenly awakened by a sharp slap to the face. Startled, I raised my head, squinting, trying to avoid the glare of the light. My cheek was stinging, almost burning, but the sensation was quickly overshadowed by the pain of my other afflictions which I was blissfully unaware of whilst in my drug induced slumber. My body was stiff and aching from being tied in this awkward position for so long. My wrists were sore with open wounds from the friction of the rope. My head was pounding from whatever they had injected into me.

“Where is it?” he demanded.
I could hardly see him through the light, shining full in my face. I could hear his footsteps coming towards me on the bare floor boards. The room sounded empty. Suddenly the smell of dust and wood was replaced by the smell of aftershave and mouthwash as he pushed his face into mine, pulling my head back by my hair. I let out a cry.
“Where is it?” he hissed.
“I don’t know… I don’t know what you’re talking about” I croaked as tears welled up in my eyes.
He released his grip, throwing my head forward.
“Don’t play games Roberta. We know you have the recording” he said calmly as he walked away and disappeared out of my vision again. “I have someone searching your home right now, as we speak”
My tears began to spill from my eyes. I couldn’t be strong any longer. I was exhausted. I was in so much pain. And I was scared.
“Please… I don’t know anything” I sobbed.

At that moment my cries were suddenly halted by the sound of the door opening. Footsteps followed. I couldn’t see what was happening; the light was too bright. All I could do was listen:
“Well?”
“Nothing”
“What do you mean ‘nothing’?”
“Nothing. I searched everywhere; the car, the laptop, the CD player… all I could find was rubbish music”
“Detail it. What did you find?”
The other man sighed heavily as he searched his memory “Ok, in the car stereo was Craig David ‘The Story Goes…’” he began. “In the glove box was all kinds of rubbish; more Craig David, Lionel Richie, Bill Withers…”
“I like Bill Withers” the boss interrupted.
The other man hesitated “Ok. Well, anyway there was also a Duets tape with soppy love songs, a ‘Motown Heartbreakers’ tape, and get this… Five Star” I could hear a crack in his voice as he stifled a laugh. The boss was not amused.
“Did you listen to it?” he demanded.
“Of course I did” replied the other man “Well, you know, just to check that the recording wasn’t on it”
“Ok, what else?”
I heard the rustling of paper.
“In the CD player was songs from the Movies, you know, old stuff; Frank Sinatra, Judy Garland, that sort of thing. In the cassette player was Billy Holiday. Lying around the place was a Leslie Garret cassette, again with songs from old Movies, and a Declan CD”
“You’re kidding” scoffed the boss.
The other man chuckled “No, serious”
“That little boy that the old grannies liked?”
“Yeah”
They chuckled together for a while and then the boss suddenly stopped.
“Ok, that’s enough, what else?” he asked sternly.
The other man stopped laughing and cleared his throat “On the laptop she’s recorded loads of Sheryl Crow stuff, but the last thing she had listened to in Winamp was Mariah Carey”
“And what about her mobile phone?”
“Stevie Wonder ‘As’ when you press play, and Stevie Wonder ‘Sir Duke’ as the ring tone. Actually, loads of Stevie Wonder, and some chart stuff as well”
There was a pause for a while.
“I listened to it all boss; there’s nothing there”
Another pause followed.
“Ok, get rid of this chick” he said to the man, and then as he walked towards me again he raised his voice slightly “Well, it looks like you’re free to go, beautiful; you’re guilty of nothing more than having no taste in music”
He switched off the light and all I could see was blobs in front of my eyes. I heard his footsteps fade as he walked out of the room, and after the other man had untied me, he followed, quietly singing to himself; “Hide and seek, it’s just a game we’re playing, hide and seek. Swear I’m gonna find you, sneaking up behind you, hide and seek…”

I was left sitting there, alone, as if I had imagined the whole thing. They left no evidence of ever being there, apart from the chair I was sitting on. As I struggled to my feet I could see the first glimpse of sunlight through the window. It was going to be a beautiful day. And I still had the recording…

This post is in response to the Music Meme that Jane tagged me with ages ago! Each tagged person is supposed to list the first 10 songs on their ipod when they select “random”, but although I own an ipod, it’s hidden somewhere in the depths of the abyss – also known as a cupboard – and I never really used it much anyway so it doesn’t have all of my music on it. So I decided to go to the 5 things I use most often to listen to music - the car stereo, the CD player, the cassette player, my laptop, and my ‘phone – and list what was in them at that time. Now I’m supposed to tag 5 people…

I would like to tag Catherine, Rhea, Hobby Bobby, SirBusy (although he might be too busy), and… … Grannys.Myth.Peeler.

Just Read

2007-05-14T15:31:00.000Z

Not meant as a command but as a kind of play on words as in the post I make reference to “Just Another Thought…”, “JustGiving” and “Just Smile…”

I’ve been meaning to do a blog roll and side bar update for what seems like forever. (Of course, if you’ve read my previous post you’ll realise that I haven’t actually written a blog post for millions of years now, but I have travelled back in time to update my blog, so to the average unenlightened reader it looks like it’s only been a few months since I last did a blog roll update, which is far from forever)

You’ll notice a couple of new blogs listed. One of them, “Just Another Thought…” is written by my dear friend Aiders. We actually lived opposite each other when we were 14-16 but then lost touch when we left school and both moved to other areas. Thirteen years later we got in touch with each other again through Friends Reunited and I’m glad to say have stayed in touch ever since. I didn’t know back then that she had such a great talent for writing, but her poems are beautiful. Thankfully she has chosen to share some of them with us in her blog.

You’ll also notice that there are two links to “JustGiving” supporting two different sponsored events. The first is for my friend Dawn Morley, who is running in the Race for Life this year to raise money for Cancer Research UK. This charity is the worlds leading independent organisation dedicated to cancer research, and with an estimated 1 in 3 suffering from cancer at some point in their life, I dare say many owe their lives to this valuable research. I know cancer has claimed at least 3 lives in my family, not to mention the friends lost, and the friends and family who have been successfully treated. Both Dawn and her teenage daughter will be running in memory of Dawns Dad who sadly died of cancer nearly two years ago. The race will be very challenging for Dawn as she has never done anything like this before, but obviously the charity is one that is close to her heart.

The second is for a team of LAS Paramedics who I don’t know from Adam. They’re climbing the three highest mountains in England, Scotland, and Wales in a 24 hour period - hell, it would be challenging enough without the time restriction. They are climbing to raise money for The Richard House Childrens Hospice, which provides support and care for children who are not expected to live into adulthood. Angela (the author of Just Smile…) has done some of her nurse training in this hospice, and she explains that it is a very valuable service that is suffering due to lack of funding. Previously Angela had told me about the services this home struggles to provide:

“[The] children's hospice… offered respite and end of life care. They had a lovely, recently built facility that offered residential and day care… The day care service was no longer offered because of funding... Most of this purpose built facility wasn't being used and during my placement they were making staff redundant…”

I sincerely wish Dawn and the Paramedic team every success in their upcoming challenges. Although Dawn has already exceeded her target amount, wouldn’t it be great if she could raise 150% (£225)? Or even 200% (£300)? I will gladly pass on any messages of support, but if you’re a blogger, please link to these two fundraising events on your blog. Thank you!

Daydream Believer

2007-05-11T04:41:00.000Z

“Roberta!” shouted the teacher, forcing me to turn my attention to her from outside the window. With the hum drum chitter chatter of a classroom full of 7 year olds it was easy to drift away.

There was one word that linked every school report I ever had – Daydreamer. It wasn’t true though. I wasn’t so much daydreaming as day… sleeping... with my eyes open. I used to go into a trance like state with my eyes fixed on whatever was right in front of me, but not really seeing what was there at all. It’s a habit I’ve carried right into my adulthood, caused mainly by lack of sleep.

I remember when I was in my teens, sitting on the floor enjoying a game of cards with a male friend of mine. While he spent some time taking his turn I kind of drifted off into one of my trances. Looking up from his cards he noticed where my eyes were resting and suddenly moved to cross his legs, and it’s only then that I realised I was staring at his crotch. Neither of us said a word, I just took my turn and we continued playing cards, and it’s never been mentioned to this day. God knows what he thought. I wonder if he still remembers it.

I still do it now – go into trances I mean, not stare at my friends’ crotch. The worst time of course is when I’m driving...

Although written by John Stewart from the folk group The Kingston Trio, Daydream Believer was originally recorded by The Monkeys, providing them with their last #1 hit in 1967.

Once Upon a Time…

2007-04-27T00:13:00.000Z

Are you sitting comfortably? I’m going to tell you a story. It all happened a very long time ago but my memory of events are still as sharp as ever.

Now, we’ve all heard of the great feats of mankind – climbing Mount Everest; travels to the North Pole; even landing on the moon – it would seem that there is no conceivable place on earth, or anywhere else for that matter, that man has been unable to leave an impression – a boot impression that is.

But this was a place that no man had ever trod.

Much like a message in a bottle which is washed out to sea, many had written their hopes, their dreams, their cries for help, and the secrets of their heart, and sent them out to this place in the hope that someone – anyone – would respond to their call; not knowing if, by whom, when, or where that message would be opened and read. Oh yes, in that sense man had left a very big impression on this place. I dare say if this place really was like the sea there would be millions of bottles all floating together, all different shapes and sizes. I can almost hear the chorus of clinking chinking sounds right now.

Yes, it was a place in Cyber Space, known as The Blogosphere. This is where my little story begins.

Isn’t it amazing that we can look right into Cyber Space and even view events on the Blogosphere in detail through our powerful Cyber telescopes (computers) and yet no man has ever stepped foot there? Even water has been walked on. Anyway, one day on the Blogosphere I saw a bottle floating towards me, figuratively speaking of course, that had my name on it. I opened it and found…

...a Meme. *dud dud daaaah* (dramatic music)

What would I do? Would I respond immediately, or would I add it to my ever growing list of half finished blog posts? Yep, you guessed it; it went on my pile of “things to do”. That’s not to say that I didn’t appreciate having a Meme sent to me; what greater compliment could there be than someone else wanting to know my views and tastes? But… well… I wanted to be able to write my response and send on the Meme to others in an imaginative way. I wanted time to paint the bottle if you like; make it pretty.

I answered the questions and then filed it, waiting for the time, energy, and imagination to strike all at once. I waited. And I waited.

I continued waiting, and in the meantime I had 5 children and 12 grandchildren. Eventually it was time for me to be frozen in a pod. It was pretty routine by that time; a lot of people were being frozen, awaiting the time when mankind could reverse the aging process and cure mankind’s diseases.

Many years later I was thawed. I was surprised to see so many elderly looking people, as I was expecting to be released from the pod only after Scientists had found a way to reverse the aging process. It was then that they dropped the bombshell on me:

The Meme that was sent to me by Jane was of great importance, and by not responding to it I had inadvertently prevented essential information from being passed on through the generations – information that would have helped Scientist to find a way of reversing the aging process and cure many diseases. Without this information they were forced to resort to spending their time working out the mathematical formula for the perfect bacon butty.

The full weight of what they had said sat heavily on my shoulders.
“What can I do?” I asked, with tears stinging my eyes.
“Do you know where you stored this Meme?” they asked.
“Yeah, I think so”
“Go and get it, we need to see it”

So off I went. I was a little stiff I can tell you; I was well into my eighties when I was frozen and that was hundreds of years ago. The bus service wasn’t what it used to be either, and it was never good in the first place. I waited around for so long that I wondered if I would have been better off being frozen again until a bus came.

Finally I got home. I knew exactly where to look for the Meme; the funny thing is that although I hadn’t responded to it I thought about it often. It felt strange looking over those answers again that I had written all those years ago before filing it away. I couldn’t see anything that I thought would be of great importance to the future of mankind though. It read as follows:

Three Things That Scare Me:
1. The possibility of Mr Man seriously harming himself.
2. Spiders. Even photos or drawings of them, or places where they can hide like small toilets.
3. The thought of being bitten by rats, even though I’ve never actually seen a wild rat in my entire life.

Three People Who Make Me Laugh: (only three?)
1. Mr Man
2. Funky Monkey’s Mother
3. Grannys.Myth.Peeler

Three Things I Love:
1. Mr Man
2. My friends and family
3. Singing and dancing to good music

Three Things I Hate:
1. My own personality flaws
2. Stupid people (that answer covers a lot)
3. When I can’t find what I’m looking for

Three Things I Don't Understand:
1. My Mother in law
2. Other languages
3. People who deliberately hurt others, mentally, emotionally, or physically

Three Things On My Desk: (Well, next to me anyway)
1. My Laptop
2. My mobile phone
3. A glass of diet Pepsi

Three Things I'm Doing Right Now:
1. Thinking
2. Typing
3. Playing with my hair

Three Things I Want To Do Before I Die:
1. Publish a book
2. Write a film script
3. Write a song

Three Things I Can Do:
1. Ride a horse
2. Touch my toes without bending my knees (even though I’m old and fat)
3. Flip Pancakes

Three Things I Can't Do:
1. Back flips
2. Speak another language
3. See without glasses or contact lenses

Three Things I Think You Should Listen To:
1. The people you love
2. The elderly
3. Children

Three Things You Should Never Listen To:
1. Malicious gossip
2. Self doubts
3. Geri Halliwell

Three Things I'd Like To Learn:
1. How to play the Guitar
2. More crochet patterns
3. Ballroom dancing

Three ~~Favourite~~ Worst Foods: (I can’t do the “favourites”)
1. Dodgy “meats” like Liver, Kidney, Heart, Tongue…
2. Dodgy seafood like Prawns, Winkles, Muscles…
3. Mushrooms, except the dodgy ones (just kidding)

Three Shows I Watched As A Kid: (but there were so many)
1. The A Team
2. The Fall Guy
3. Heart to Heart

Three Wonderful People to Inflict My Meme On: (again, only three?)
Aiders
Angela
TP

Once I had returned to the… well, it was a secret location, but once I had returned there they agreed to freeze me again. That was millions of years ago now. I was thawed once more when mankind had found a way to return me to my youth – in more ways than one. Not only do I now look younger than I did in my thirties, but we also know how to time travel.

And that is the end of my tale, for now at least. I suspect that will only be the beginning of my story, because now that I have travelled back in time to post this Meme on my blog I have effectively changed the course of history and I have no idea what the outcome of my actions will be in the future. Oh well. You’re damned if you do, and you’re damned if you don’t.

There’s a Crow Among the Pigeons

2007-04-23T22:06:00.000Z

The idiom “Put the Cat Among the Pigeons” means to create a disturbance or cause trouble, making others angry or worried. Thought to originate in Iran and India where Caracal cats were tamed and trained for bird hunting and put into arenas with a flock of pigeons where wagers were made on how many birds the cat could bring down.

Sheryl Crow has been on a “Stop Global Warming” College Tour in the US recently and has been quoted on BBC News as saying:
“I have spent the better part of this tour trying to come up with easy ways for us all to become a part of the solution to global warming” and her suggestions?
“I propose a limitation be put on how many squares of toilet paper can be used in any one sitting” Good luck with enforcing that one then. Anyone for toilet duty?

So just how many squares are deemed sufficient?
“…only one square per restroom visit…” What? I know everything is supposed to be bigger and better in America, but just how big are the squares of her toilet paper?

“…except, of course, on those pesky occasions where two to three could be required”

Yeah, yards not squares.

Obviously not an IBS sufferer.

The “Yoof” of Today

2007-04-19T21:08:00.000Z

I saw an elderly man mowing a front lawn the other day. He looked so frail that I couldn’t believe he had the strength to push the mower; he looked like he was holding on for support if anything.

On the driveway stood a younger man who spoke to him occasionally and then stood and watched the old man struggle. Morbid curiosity made me turn the car around to drive by for a closer look. By this time the younger man had been joined by two teenage boys.

The elderly man continued mowing. The other three continued to watch whilst chatting. Teatime TV ain’t what it used to be.

Bringing Home The Bacon

2007-04-10T02:47:00.000Z

Obviously the great minds of our day have found the solution to all of mankind’s problems and have left “Scientists” with little to do with their time and resources, judging by this article.

Apparently, 4 researchers at Leeds University have spent more than 1,000 hours testing 700 variations of the traditional bacon sandwich to determine how to make the perfect bacon butty.

I especially liked the last paragraph where the mathematical formula for the perfect bacon butty was explained in detail. I shall sleep well tonight.

Today's Top Tip

2007-04-05T21:50:00.001Z

If you don’t want to wake up looking like a cross between Captain Caveman and Worzel Gummidge, don’t go to bed with wet hair wrapped in a towel.

Who Let The Dogs Out?

2007-04-01T22:35:00.000Z

A UK #2 hit in 2000 for the Baha Men. Anslem Douglas originally recorded the song in 1998, but in 2001 he was sued by Patrick Stephenson and Leroy Williams, who had originally written the chorus for a radio jingle in 1995. The song has often been used at sporting events, the first use being in 1999 at a football game of the Mississippi State University, with a version sung by Chuck Smooth. (Who’s he?)

Unbelievably, both driving and shopping have been quite a joy of late – until this weekend...

Who let the stupid drivers out again? Every time I’ve been out in the car I’ve had to put up with some numpty driving right up my rear, almost close enough to push me along, or with their headlights shining in my mirrors, and I’ve even been beeped at a couple of times. I’d just like to point out that I don’t actually set the speed limits, ok? I just try to stick by them. You know, I’m just like anyone else; if someone is driving along at 20mph when the speed limit is 30 I get a tad irritated, but why get irritated with someone who is obeying the law and driving at the speed limit, just because you happen to feel that it’s not fast enough for you? Listen, if you want to get pulled over and given a speeding ticket that’s your business, but don’t try to push me into breaking the law/having an accident.

I was actually tempted to stop my car at a junction and get out to speak to the driver behind me this afternoon. I’d only just found out that a couple of people I know had been involved in a car accident and had been air lifted to hospital, and here was this loser, who had appeared from nowhere (obviously driving too fast to have caught up with me that quickly) and was driving right up my rear. These people annoy me so much. (Can you tell?) I had my niece in the car with me this evening so I decided to pull over and let yet another loser past as I thought it would be safer, but it’s not always possible.

Shopping on Saturday wasn’t so much irritating as embarrassing. Two women airing their dirty laundry in public and pointing their fingers in each others faces, and another woman waving her arms around as she shouted down her mobile phone “No, I won’t shut up! Jus’ get ‘ere now!...”, as well as the usual mothers screaming at their children like “fisher women”. Do these people have no shame?

What a Duffer...

2007-03-31T01:57:00.000Z

Umm… yeah, I found out tonight why those star jumps were so blinkin’ hard to do…

I was at a friends house tonight, and experienced a strange desire to share my star jumping technique with her.
“I was doing star jumps earlier” I said, leaping out of my chair to demonstrate.
I stood in the centre of her living room and jumped up in the air whilst spreading my arms and legs out to the side at the same time, and then landing with my feet together and my arms by my side - a bit like a rather feeble attempt at those jumps they used to do in “Fame” when we were kids, but with my feet only leaving the floor by a few inches! My friend burst into fits of laughter.
“That’s not how you do star jumps!” she exclaimed, “You do them like this…”
She got up to join me in our jumping session. She jumped and landed with her legs apart and with her arms outstretched in one simple movement, and then jumped again as she brought her legs together and her arms down by her sides. She repeated this a few times before we had to stop through being doubled over with laughter.
“Oh. No wonder they were so hard to do!” I cried.
“Mr Man, how do you put up with her?” she asked, shaking her head.
“Hey, hang on a minute!” I protested through my laughs, “He was doing them like that as well…”

Today's Top Tip

2007-03-30T17:39:00.000Z

If you’re overweight and extremely unfit, try to resist the sudden urge to do star jumps, no matter how strong the desire.

An End to Slavery?

2007-03-25T00:45:00.000Z

There has been a lot of news articles recently about the 200th anniversary of the “abolition” of the slave trade, which apparently falls on Sunday 25th March.

The media has focussed a lot of attention on sex trafficking and described that as a type of slavery, as if the connection between the two has only just occurred to them, or as if they’ve only just discovered that it exists.

Wake up and smell your Fair Trade coffee.

And then there’s this little gem.

Personally I find it perversely hypocritical to say on one hand:

“We’re appalled that our ancestors used to treat their fellow man in this way. We’re so glad that we’re a civilised nation now, and don’t earn our fortunes through the slave trade anymore”

…and then on the other hand say…

“…but I’ll keep hold of my huge inheritance that was amassed through treating others in such an appalling way, thank you very much.”

If you wish, you can help to pay for the upkeep of their home which was built on slavery, and in exchange have a guided tour. Of course, being a charitable institution, you are encouraged to pay more than the base entry fee, thus enabling them to claim a further 28% from the government.

In keeping with the spirit of charity, entry is free on Sunday 25th March – the 200th anniversary of the abolition of the slave trade.

Happy anniversary.

It's a Bum Rap

2007-03-20T20:01:00.000Z

I was chatting with my brother on the phone tonight and he was complaining about how every piece of mail through his letter box just lately is to tell him that another bill has gone up. He’s tried to cut back where he can, and as he doesn’t use the internet much he decided to switch his ISP so that he could take advantage of the free service provided by his digital TV service provider. He jokingly said that he’ll also have to use the free newspaper instead of toilet paper soon to save money. Anyway, after deciding to announce that he needed to go to do a poo, he asked me to email him to make sure that his new email address was working properly, so I decided to compose a rap…

Yo, Bro
You said you had to go
But I’m still smilin’
Freestylin’
While you’re on the Poe
Now there’s somethin’ you should know
Don’t waste the
Newspaper, down the pan
‘Cos later
What you choose
To use
You’ll accuse
When your pan’s blocked
Don’t act shocked
It’s not like I didn’t warn you
Not tryin’ to scorn you
Never diss you
I still miss you
I’m just saying
You’ll be paying
For a plumber
It’s a bummer
So use Andrex ok?

Red Nose Day

2007-03-16T17:49:00.000Z

It’s done. He did it. Mike (and others) completed the mammoth task of compiling a book in just seven days. Shaggy Blog Stories.

But this isn’t just any old book. Oh no no! This book contains entries from 100 authors (more than even the Bible with a mere 40), and all British Bloggers at that, all with the sole intention of bringing a smile to your fair face and raising money for Comic Relief at the same time.

So what are you waiting for? Oh, where to buy it? Of course, silly old me…

www.shaggyblogstories.co.uk

Genetically Modified Tomatoes?

2007-03-15T00:49:00.000Z

Listen, if you’re going to waste time trying to reinvent the wheel, why don’t you do something really useful and make the cherry tomato square so that it doesn’t keep rolling off my plate? (And for some reason it always seems to roll towards me when it’s covered in an oily dressing)

And while you’re at it, how about genetically modifying the plastic bottle so that my shopping doesn’t keep falling over and rolling around all over the place? I can’t possibly be the only person in the world who absolutely despairs at trying to get these bottles to stand upright, so why has no one redesigned this utterly useless piece of plastic? It's as pointless as storing liquid in a balloon - both roll all over the place, and have you ever tried untying a balloon with liquid in it? It makes a mess doesn’t it? Yeah, the same thing happens when you open a bottle of pop that’s been rolling around on the floor.

How can human kind possess the knowledge and technology to enable them to propel satellites into space and yet not realise that the design of the Pepsi cola bottle is seriously flawed? And why waste time trying to make a tomato red when it’s already red, and juicy when it’s already juicy, when all I really want is to be able to eat the smeggin’ thing without it rolling under the table?

Shaggy Blog Stories

2007-03-09T19:32:00.000Z

Attention all bloggers!

Today I have stumbled across this brilliant idea.

Basically, all bloggers are being asked to submit just one blog post, preferably their funniest, to be included in a book entitled “Shaggy Blog Stories” which will go on sale next Friday, 16th March. As you may, or may not know, this date is Red Nose Day, and all money raised (minus publishing fees) will be donated to Comic Relief.

Time is ticking away! This book is being compiled in just 7 days, with the closing time/date being 6pm GMT Wednesday 14th March. (Surely this has to be a record for the largest amount of contributors for one book, and being compiled in the shortest amount of time?)

Everyone is being encouraged to publicise this event on their own blogs, contribute to the book themselves, buy the book next Friday, and advertise the book once it goes on sale.

I’m not sure if I’ve really ever written anything that funny myself, but I hope to read some of my favourite posts by other bloggers.

So get blogging!

You can read more about this event here: troubled-diva.com

Oompa Loompa Doompety Doo…

2007-03-07T00:06:00.000Z

Lyrics from the “Oompa Loompa” songs written by Leslie Bricusse and Anthony Newley for the film “Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory” 1971. The original book, which was entitled “Charlie and the Chocolate Factory”, was written by Roald Dahl and first published in 1964. The screen play of the 1971 film adaption was written by Roald Dahl and David Seltzer, and by John August in the 2005 remake, which was titled the same as the book.

I’m starting to look like Violet Beauregarde from Charlie and the Chocolate factory. No, not in colour; that would be extremely worrying, but in shape.

I have a wedding to attend in May and I haven’t a chance in hell of actually losing an ounce of weight before I go, unless I start chopping some limbs off. I’m just not in the right frame of mind at the moment. You know how it is; eating old musicals while watching cake, drinking my blanket, and crocheting the Malibu. I start off with good intentions; just the other night I had a salad with “Mexican style” brown rice and kidney beans; I felt so virtuous. I wanted to increase my vegetable intake so I followed that up with six slices of carrot cake – I never believed carrots could taste so good. So you see, I was doing really well, but later that night when I couldn’t sleep I gave in to temptation and ate four chocolate chip cookies. No wonder I can’t lose weight. Actually, I have been going to a slimming club, but it occurred to me that I could save my money by not going and have an extra fiver to spend on biscuits each week. I mean, what’s the point in going anyway? I spend all that money to hear something my waistband has already told me.

Still, if the wedding reception is in fancy dress I have some purple outfits hanging in my wardrobe…

Image from roalddahlfans.com

Speechless

2007-03-03T07:34:00.000Z

I just read this article on Inspector Gadgets blog.

I don’t care that he was a Police officer. I care that he is a human being.

How ~~much~~ little is a life worth these days?

In particular read this incredibly moving poem by James, the brother of the victim, Daniel Coffill.

Daniel Coffill

The Night is Filled With Music

2007-02-27T01:01:00.000Z

Instrumental written by Irving Berlin, 1938. From the film “Carefree” staring Fred Astaire and Ginger Rodgers.

She looked so beautiful. Her perfect curls secured in place, her long eyelashes, and her sleeveless gown that revealed her elegant, slender arms. The handsome man in the perfectly tailored suit took her by the hand and they seemed to float away. Gracefully they swayed across the floor; the only evidence of their feet touching the ground was the occasional tapping sound in time with the music; her long flowing dress as fluid and light as their bodies.

“I wish I had a dress like that” thought the little girl. She was mesmerised as she sat right in front of the TV staring at the screen. The rest of the family were doing their own thing; this wasn’t to their taste at all. The end of the film was always a bitter sweet moment; she hated the fairy tale moments to end, but she couldn’t wait to run upstairs and create her own fantasies behind the closed door of her bedroom.

Drawing by Chuck Rose

In her room she could forget the madness of being part of a one parent family with 3 older siblings and 3 younger. Although she shared her room with her two younger sisters, they were too young to want to play in their own room. She had arranged the furniture herself so that there was a space in the centre of the room. Imagining those beautiful melodies in her mind she would drift away, skipping and twirling in her imaginary ball gown. There was even a patch of bare floorboards, right by the door, where the carpet hadn’t quite reached to the edge of the room, and there she would make up her tap dancing steps.

She loved all kinds of dancing and music and singing. Even now, 25 years later, that little girl still loves to sit and watch old musicals. They’re just so happy and gay and they take her away to a much simpler place in time – a time before she was even born. A magical time. A time that probably doesn’t even exist except on the silver screen and in every little girls imagination.

Just lately I’ve been watching musicals every night - hence the lack of posts. I go through these phases sometimes; it’s just something I need to do. I swear I was born 50 years too late.

Yabba Dabba Doo!

2007-02-21T20:34:00.000Z

I had my slimming club meeting tonight.
“How much did you lose?” Mr Man asked.
“Blimey, he’s optimistic” I thought.

Unbelievably I did manage to lose some weight though. I say “unbelievably” because when you hardly sleep there are more hours in the day to eat food. And when you’re tired you can’t be bothered to cook so you eat any ol’ rubbish.

On my way home I popped into the local supermarket. I finally gave in and bought some sleeping tablets. They’re just herbal things so I hope they do something. I didn’t want anything stronger because I don’t want to feel drugged up all day. Right now though I don’t feel like I’m going to need them tonight. I’m resisting the urge to go to bed, because I know that if I sleep now I will wake up again in three hours time and then be awake again all night.

I wonder how many people I irritated tonight? When I’m tired I do everything in slow motion. I shuffle along with my trolley and every now and again I stop and stare at a shelf even though I have no idea what I’m even looking at. Strangely enough I drive really slowly when I’m tired as well. I have no idea why. I could understand it if I had a Flintstone car.

Man alive, I wouldn't look that happy if my car was leg powered. It's too much effort to press the accelerator.

Picture from Google images.

Today's Top Tip

2007-02-21T02:19:00.000Z

Remember to look over your right shoulder when about to pull away from the curb in a motor vehicle. There really is a blind spot in your mirrors - large enough to hide a lorry, apparently.

Is there no end to the stupidity in this world?

2007-02-09T20:45:00.000Z

Just when I think I have heard or read the most stupid thing I am ever going to hear or read in my entire life, ever, I come across something else that is even more stupid than the last stupid thing I heard or read.

I suppose the subject of this post on Mental Nurse is something I would usually write about in my other blog, and I have, but then people’s stupidity is usually something I blog about here.

Is there no end to people’s stupidity?

But maybe it works. What do I know? I’m only the wife of a Schizophrenic.

"Riddle Me This, Riddle Me That..."

2007-02-08T20:54:00.000Z

- The Riddler, played by Jim Carey, in Batman Forever 1995.

Pop over to Trainee Paramedics blog where he has posted a couple of riddles for our amusement. No peeking at the solutions in the answers post though!

So, there's 8 balls...

Let it Snow, Let it Snow, Let it Snow!

2007-02-08T15:48:00.000Z

Lyric written by Sammy Cahn and music by Jule Styne in 1945. First recorded by Vaughn Monroe in 1946. Although traditionally thought of as a Christmas song, the lyrics in this love song contain no mention of Christmas at all.

“Oh, the weather outside is frightful
But the fire is so delightful…”

Ahh… is there anything better than listening to some old tunes while curling up by an open fire?

“And since we’ve no place to go…”

Actually, it's not so much having no place to go, but Mr Man has banned me from driving in this weather in case I have an accident. Also I received an email from a friend the other day asking me: “Have you crashed into anyone recently?” Blimey, knock down one telegraph poll and you never hear the end of it! Still, if I know I won’t be driving it means I can relax with a glass of Bailey’s by the fire, so…

“Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow!”

I'm afraid I have to disagree with our friend Tom Reynolds (sorry Tom), who thinks it's stupid that schools close for the day and that the whole country comes to a standstill when it snows. It seems to snow much less than I remember as a child. I don’t think it snows often enough in this country for people to really know how to cope with it, and people certainly don’t know how to drive in it. I think everywhere should close for the day and kids should be able to stay home from school and make the most of the snow while it lasts. He's just jealous because his brother (who is a teacher) got a day off work and he didn't!

Spare a thought for people who have to go out and work in it too – like our postmen/women. Imagine them walking around in it for two or three hours while it’s still snowing; getting wet and cold, and trying to stay upright with a heavy bag of mail on their back.

Extra Extra! Read All About It!

2007-02-07T09:50:00.000Z

I thought it was about time I updated my list of links in the side bar as I’ve been reading some very funny and interesting blogs of late, and as I’ve had another sleepless night I thought I’d give you a little explanation of each blog while I decide whether to go back to bed or whether to try to force myself to stay up until I’m so tired that I feel like death and I have to give in and go back to bed and then I would have slept too late in the day to be able to sleep tonight and I’ll be kicking myself and wishing that I went to bed this morning instead of trying to force myself to stay up even though it’s not really my fault because I didn’t know what to do because if I went to bed this morning I didn’t know whether I would actually be able to sleep or not. In the mean time maybe someone could Google “the longest sentence in the world recorded in the Guinness book of records” for me.

I’ve never really had a very high opinion of NHS Direct. I called one time for some medication advice and the woman on the phone wanted to send an ambulance for Mr Mans indigestion. I’ve never bothered phoning them again, but if I knew I would have this clever lady answering the phone then maybe I would. There is always two sides to every story, and for every stupid person you think works at NHS reDirect you can guarantee that this lady will answer the phone to at least 50 stupid people ringing them. It’s a very stressful job too, sometimes being the first person that a caller will speak to after experiencing traumatic events. Read the list of 25 random calls listed here and see for yourself.

I’ve been reading a couple of blogs written by Special Constables of late. Hobby Bobby has some very funny stories to tell, and SirBusy is a teacher in his “day job” so he even knows how to spell and like use proper grammar? And all stuff like that innit? I was like well impressed.

Another blog I’ve been reading is written by a copper who calls himself Grannys.Myth.Peeler, but he doesn’t write about his work. He has a very vivid imagination shall we say, and if you don't mind some swearing I guarantee you’ll be crying with laughter. His characters (real or imagined, I have no idea) really come to life. Men of Steel has got to be one of the best.

Has anyone ever come across any British FireFighter blogs?

TODAY'S HEADLINE NEWS

2007-02-02T15:46:00.000Z

HUMANS BLAMED FOR CLIMATE CHANGE

Well whose fault did you think it was? Who the hell else is there to blame?

A New Kind of Stupid

2007-01-23T20:07:00.000Z

I just had to blog today on the level of stupidity that I have seen in the news recently. Forget the stupid drivers, forget the stupid shoppers; today I have read news articles that show a new kind of stupid.

Take for example the news about the stricken cargo ship MSC Napoli. Containers have been strewn across Branscombe beach in Devon, and it is reported that looters have been turning up in droves to scavenge what they can find on the beach. This has rightly been condemned by the police and coast guard officials as the goods inside these containers obviously belong to other people, some of which are personal items.

However, as much as the greed of these people disgust me, the thing I found stupid beyond belief was a comment submitted to BBC News and quoted within the article:

“Let them keep what they find. They are removing rubbish from the beach!”
Ken Bolton from Manchester

Umm… no. You see this is rubbish (which is clearly being left behind):

What is actually being removed is barrels of wine and BMW motorbikes, and other valuable items.

Also in the news is a two year old boy who was banned from a shop for refusing to remove his “hoodie”:

And on a more serious note is the story of a man who lost his life during a mugging that went wrong. The Judge David Hodson is quoted as saying regarding the murderer:

“The dreadful catalogue of physical and emotional abuse you have been subjected to as a child has undoubtedly contributed to the anti-social behaviour disorder you suffer.”

I'm sure this statement will bring great comfort to the victims family. If you click on the link to the news article you can watch video phone footage of the murderer "suffering" from the affects of his anti-social behaviour disorder.

Two questions: Is anti-social behaviour a disorder?* And is physical and emotional abuse as a child a justifiable excuse for a completely unrelated murder in adulthood?

I'd just like to point out that I have friends who wrote the book on suffering physical and emotional abuse, and yet they are balanced, upright members of society. They don’t mug people; they don’t carry knives; and they don’t stab people to death.

*If so, I’m sorry kids but your ASBO no longer makes you look “tough” and “cool” – it just proves you’re a fruit cake.

Images from BBC News

The Magic Roundabout

2007-01-16T17:48:00.000Z

Originally known as "Le Manège Enchanté" (The Enchanted Merry-go-round), "The Magic Roundabout" was an animated children's television programme created in France in 1963 by Serge Danot, assisted by British animator Ivor Wood, who was working at Danot's studio at the time. The programme was aired on British television from 1965 to 1977 and was narrated by Eric Thompson who, rather than translate the original script from French into English, narrated the program based on what he saw.

In 1972 the UK saw the introduction of large road traffic circulation systems with an unconventional layout, and the name “Magic Roundabout” soon became associated with any complex traffic roundabout.

I haven’t blogged about stupid drivers in ages. Actually, I haven’t seen any stupid drivers in ages. I presumed that they had all read my blog and were sitting at home sulking. Maybe they thought I had forgotten about them and so they decided to come out and drive again?

On Friday night I saw many of them, but by no means all of them. I went out to drop Mr Man off at his table tennis practice, and when I arrived back home I pulled over at the side of the road, ready to make my manoeuvre to reverse onto our drive (I’m a bit clever like that). In my rear view mirror I could see headlights, so I waited a moment. I then noticed that there were two vehicles coming along the road behind me, followed by blue flashing lights. As I waited I watched in disbelief as all three of them drove past; wondering why the two vehicles in front hadn’t pulled over. It was an ambulance by the way, not a police car, so they weren’t being chased!

On my way back to pick Mr Man up I approached a small roundabout. The car in front of me had stopped, although there were no other vehicles on or even approaching the roundabout from any other exit. Then a car appeared at the exit to the right. Giving way to his right, as he should, the car in front of me continued to wait. But then so did the numb skull to the right, although there was nothing coming from his right. Why do people struggle to use roundabouts so much? It’s not complicated is it? We’re talking about a small roundabout with three exits – nothing like this one:

Actually that reminds me, just before the Christmas period two cars nearly had a collision right in front of me on a mini roundabout. It was another one of those roundabouts with three exits, which used to be a “T” junction; they seem to be very common in our town. The car in front of me was turning right, but the car coming straight towards us from the opposite direction (which in roundabout terms was to our left) pulled out straight in front of him instead of giving way. I suppose it can be confusing to some people when the roundabout used to be a “T” junction, but for goodness sake, there are a few hints as to what to do – like the big round “roundabout” sign before you approach it, and the fact that there is a large round lump in the road painted white – I find that a little bit of a give away myself.

Desperate Measures

2007-01-15T01:52:00.000Z

I don’t know why but I have this strange desire to share every useless piece of drivel that pops into my brain tonight – unfortunately for you, my dear reader.

I’ve had trouble with my sinuses over the last couple of days and I think I may be coming down with a head cold or have some kind of infection, so I’ve been dosing myself up on chopped, raw, garlic – unfortunately for Mr Man.

You’ll be glad to know that I haven’t decided to adopt the rather unusual method of self administration by inserting a whole garlic clove into my bottom, as demonstrated by an auditionee on last years Xtra Factor!* Instead I have been washing the garlic down with diet Pepsi, which probably isn’t the best choice of beverage for health benefits, but at least it makes the garlic semi palatable. I have a piece of metal in my kitchen which, when used to wash ones hands with, removes odours from the skin. It’s magic! So I decided to use it to wash my tongue with as well. It worked a little, but I couldn’t get to the roof of my mouth with it. Needless to say I am getting through quite a bit of mouthwash at the moment. It’s worth it though as garlic has amazing health benefits, including antibiotic properties. I always use it when I suspect an infection (that green stuff you cough up is usually a bit of a giveaway) rather than going to the doctors for antibiotics. Mr Man said to me on Friday “You should go to the doctors about it” to which I replied: “No, I was only there a couple of days ago, he’ll think I fancy him!”.

A friend told me today that garlic can also be rubbed into the soles of the feet and absorbed into the body in this way, but this would bring a whole new meaning to the term “smelly feet” which couldn’t be contained with mouthwash.

Mr Mans answer to everything is Lemsip. My answer to everything (or head colds at least) is a hot drink with a measure of Bailey’s in it. It clears the head and eases aches and pains far better than any of these modern day cold and ‘flu remedies. The trouble is I haven’t actually got any at the moment, so I decided to try hot chocolate with Malibu instead (I didn’t think the coconut flavour would mix well with Barley Cup).

The other problem I had was measuring it. I don’t usually measure anything in the kitchen; cooking always seems to go horribly wrong the moment I start weighing ingredients, so I usually use the old fashioned method of guessing, taught to me by my mother. But I’m actually supposed to be dieting again/still/at the moment so I wanted to be sure of the amount I was drinking. I finally managed to find a measuring cup for cough medicine and I used that to measure out my 25mls!

The drink worked quite well, but you can’t beat a bit of Bailey’s in a hot drink, which of course is made from Whiskey – the original cold remedy.

*The Xtra Factor was the itv2 “behind the scenes” show of The X Factor, presented by Ben Shepherd. The auditionee didn’t literally insert a garlic clove into his bottom live on air, but demonstrated the most effective method by inserting it into a clenched fist!

Today's Top Tip

2007-01-14T20:03:00.000Z

Don't walk into a room naked when it's dark outside, the curtains are open, and the light is on.