I'm 21, childless, British, weird, quirky and blond. Oh, and I have three cats. That just about sums me up.
Yet more Quotes and Quips. Turn and flee to avoid
Enjoy.
..
“I don’t know a music student who hasn’t had sex on a piano.
It’s notorious in music school as a venue for shagging.”
- Damn. Knew I should’ve kept up the flute…
Halle Berry:
“I’ve recorded myself when I make love.
I like to hear myself scream.”
- Uh, right. Of course.
Backing slooowwwly away, now…
Sarah Jessica Parker:
- Whatever floats your boat, hun.
Morrissey (On the possibility of a Smiths reunion):
“I would rather eat my own testicles than reform The Smiths, and that’s saying something for a vegetarian.
”
- It most certainly is. It’s saying that you’re not only a vegetarian; you’re also a prat.*
Paris Hilton:
“Years ago, I asked my dad for a boob job and he said it would cheapen my image.
”
- Fill in the blanks yourself here, people.
Gwen Stefani:
“Being pregnant is the best gift, but I look at my stage clothes and wonder if I will ever get into them again.”
- Whether you do or you don’t doesn’t matter, Gwen darling: you’ll still be drop dead gorgeous, rich, loved and fancied by hundreds and also have a bouncing baby thrown into the bargain as well, you lovely, lucky little bitch, you.
“I’m all about fashion, cheeseburgers and bright red lipstick.”
- Everyone loves a classy girl.
Ozzy Osbourne (On Pete Doherty):
“Why isn’t anyone helping the boy?
It’s not entertaining to watch.”
- Quite right, Ozzy old chap, it’s not. It’s disgusting and repulsive, but for some weird reason I don't understand it’s good publicity and keeps him in the limelight, which is in my opinion almost certainly why the S.
O.A.B does it.
Jordan:
“People presume that because you’ve got big boobs you need big knickers.”
- Um, no Jordan love, they don’t. People presume that because you’ve got big boobs you need a big bra.
Understandable mistake though: bra, kickers, knickers, bra...
the two are easily confused.
“David Beckham is the smartest gentleman.”
- Forgive me for intruding please, Usher, but; what are you smoking?
“In my last fifteen minutes alive, it wouldn’t be making love, just sex. And preferably with Jessica Alba.”
- Well, isn’t Jessica Alba a lucky, lucky girl.
“Everyone took pictures of beautiful Terri and Nicollette and Eva. By the third hour, I hated it. I called my husband, crying, ‘I’m the oldest and ugliest one here.
’”
- Not sure on the "oldest" front, Fliss, but in my view you’re definitely *not* the "ugliest". In fact, I’ll go so far as to say that out of all of the women on that show, you are not only the most beautiful, but the most naturally beautiful gal there.
Diddy:
“For a woman, a wax is necessary.
It makes everything more attainable. It makes room for all the advances I make when I’m going to please her.”
- Uh-huh.
Well, Diddy, if you need that much ‘room’ to make all your ‘advances’, then I’m presuming you are the sort of man that no woman with much sense would want to have ‘pleasing’ her. And Diddy? As waxing is so ‘necessary’, by all means, be my guest and GO FIRST.
And, finally…
…
“Tom was the kindest, most sincere man I have ever met.”
- Does anyone else find the fact that she apparently believes that scary? I can almost hear him now…“Today, ex-girlfriend.
Tomorrow, THE WORLD!”
WHOO-WHOO! All aboard for the Thursday Fours.
..
Four jobs you have had in your life:1) Cleaner
2) Kitchen Assistant
Both from the age of 15-18.
From the age of 16 I worked full time.
3) Care Assistant
No matter what I did it was wrong, and I could take being wrong and stupid and lazy and incompetent and deserving of all the other insults I received on an hourly basis.
So I left.
4) Till Assistant
The job itself was good, I was good at serving customers, and full time I would earn around about the same amount as I do now, after tax.
The store I worked in, however, was terrible; lack of communication and lack of respect from management to lower staff made for an uncomfortable and tense atmosphere. Sainsbury’s is fast going down hill, and I think that Kidderminster branch will be the first, if any, to crumble to the ground.
And good riddance.
Four movies you would watch over and over:
1) Blues Brothers
2) Ice Age
Shut up. I love it and will never grow tired of it.
3) Pulp Fiction
4) Blithe Spirit
Four places you have lived:
1) Kidderminster
2) Um…
3) Um…
4) Um…Nope, that’s it.
Just Kidderminster
Four TV shows you love to watch:
1) CSI Crime Scene Investigation
The original based in Vegas. I like the others, but not nearly as much
2) Frost
3) Desperate Housewives
4) Q.I.
Four places you have been on vacation:
1) Wales
2) France
3) Birmingham
4) London
Four websites I visit daily (other than mine, I’m taking it):
1) Roc Revel Granny
2) One Whipped Mother
3) Blogging Baby
4) Thumper Co.
For the links which at the moment I apparently cannot add properly, see my usual list.
Four of my favorite foods:
1) Chocolate
Yeah, that’s pretty much a given, right?
2) Joe’s Ice Cream
3) Chicken
4) Pasta
Four places I would rather be right now:
1) In bed
2) With my boyfriend
3) Walking my dog (again)
4) Caswell Bay
Four things I always carry with me:
1) Purse
That’s what I carry my money and cards such as my debit card, library card, driving license etc. in, by the way. Over here ‘purse’ means money container, and ‘bag’ is what you guys call a purse, I think.
2) Brush
3) Mobile
4) Some form of spray/scent
I always worry that I smell, always, so I carry body spray so I can freshen up every now and again and hopefully rid myself of any irrational fears of making people pass out or run away shrieking.
Four people I am tagging :
1) One Whipped Mother
2) SusiebadoozieQzee
3) Rude Cactus
4) Andrea In Japan
See the bit about websites regarding the links thing
I'm back (again) and present you with another random and disjointed post.
Turn and flee to avoid...
* For those of you who may be fed up of random disjointed posts punctuated by bullet points all I can say is when I have one basic subject to ramble on about you will be the first to know, and until then please kindly bite me.
* Might be hard to believe but I am actually in a good mood today.
* Yep, I was off work again.
Nope, it was nothing to do with my teeth. It was a 24 hour (to the second, actually. That surprised me) stomach bug.
Yep, I felt completely crap. Yep, I didn’t go to work. Yep, I slept on and off throughout the entirety of Monday.
Nope, my work place was not happy after missing Wednesday Thursday last week and nope, I don’t much care; my lank, aching, sweating and occasionally vomiting presence would not have been appreciated.
* Bingo has yet to forgive me for not walking him properly yesterday or spending any time with him. He got 15 minutes in the park before I threw up into a holly bush and realised that I did indeed have a stomach bug and ignoring it was neither going to make it go away or make me well enough to go about my normal daily life.
* To clarify, the problem with my teeth was that my wisdom tooth was gouging its way slowly to and through the surface of my gum and had greedily nabbed a tiny morsel of food to hoard all for itself, and as the place was apparently "very hard to properly reach" ( the dentist's words, not mine) I had apparently missed it, causing rapid inflammation of the gum and great, great pain. It took four days for that horrible, awful pain to go away, two of which were spent scrubbing every hour and bleeding onto a toothbrush and being unable to speak properly, hence being off work, but so far so good there is no cause to remove it, although the other side has yet to try and emerge, so…
The summary given by the dentist during my first dentist visit in 7 years was; “wisdom teeth are a real bitch, especially when you are trying to clean them, you need to scrub thoroughly to get rid of the irritation, yes it is very common and you aren’t the only one, yes it will hurt a lot, yes it will bleed, yes it is best if you rest your jaw and yes mouthwash is a very good idea, the receptionist will deal with your bill, bye.”
Ok, she may have been a little more eloquent and polite than that and used bigger and more impressive words, but I stand by my guns and insist that my summary was accurate.
* Anyhow, guess I seem a bit pathetic now, huh? Agony and misery and two days off work caused by a rogue piece of cracker…
*Sigh*
* I spoke to Ann Adams on Saturday on the phone after in a fit of adventurous spirit caused me to try out the number she gave me and see if it worked. It did, although bad reception between my mobile and hers caused mild confusion (and on my part, fear) for a few seconds, and we chatted away for about five minutes before both of us had to go, me to get ready for a concert and her to start out to visit a Blogging friend (see for more info on that) in another state.
We didn’t chat about anything exceptionally important, just this and that, but it was really fun and great to finally put a voice to her brilliant literary musings, and, I hope she won’t mind me saying this, but her accent was really cute. I’ve heard American accents that really grate, but hers was cute.
Here’s what she said about mine in an email:
More the correct English without the snobbery if that makes sense.”
So, there you go.
It was amazing talking to someone so far away that I knew so well, and thinking about it was the first time I have ever called someone outside of England, so, that’s two new things I did that Saturday.
Yay me!
* It is sunny and bright outside for the first time since Friday afternoon.
* The plus side to all that tummy-being-bad stuff is that I had almost a thousand less calories than I’d normally have even when dieting, and most of the calories I did have consisted of water and dry crackers.
I did try two pieces of bread and butter when I started to feel a bit better at around 8pm but that turned out to be a mistake…
* Bloating caused by pig-outs and period simultaneously, which stopped on Friday and Monday respectively, has finally begun to go down. Soon I will be my normal fat-but-not-bloated self again.
* I’m through with diets.
Completely. Seriously. I can’t do them.
I’m opting for trying to eat smaller portions and moderating my calorie intake to a sensible but still doable level and starting up swimming twice a week again, and if I stay fat, I stay fat: at least I’ll be fat and healthy.
* Susie, I’m properly back, but unfortunately I am always ‘weird’.
* Chris, you’re welcome.
Did my telepathically sent prayers and hugs get through to you and Beth?
* Uncle Roger: regarding the school’s uniform policy, all I can go on is the news reports I have both read and seen on TV on, well, you know, the News, but as far as I can tell, they do have one.
Yup, my school was out of line, but then it often was.
It never occurred to me to file a lawsuit. I just sort of laughed at them and went on my merry way doing my own thing. I often argued with them about many things.
Two of the biggies were the double standards, not just segregated to religion and race either, and the fact that we didn’t have a full time school nurse on site which I may have mentioned before somewhere and am not going to mention now else we’ll be here all bloody day.
Thanks for the comment, anyway. You are the only one who said that you missed me (*sniff!
*) although when Ann mentioned in the email this morning that I quoted from earlier that she “would have begun fretting” if I “hadn't surfaced soon” she did give herself away a little.
* This story - - disgusts, repulses, saddens and angers me, but the worst thing about it is that it doesn’t shock or even surprise me.
How bad has the world got when stuff like this doesn’t include those two things in the reaction sequence?
* On a lighter note, I really fancy watching Willow (For a quick explanation of what Willow is check out ) and will be popping out after posting this to see if I can hire it out, or failing that, buy it because it is great and I was very upset when I realised that the video I thought I have of it I don’t, so I’ll bid you all adieu and report to you later on my findings because obviously as my life and everything in it is so interesting and entertaining you will all be on a knife edge waiting to find out whether or not I succeed, and – ah, damn. Just remembered; I should have returned two books I got from the Library three days ago and before I hunt for my video/DVD I will have to go in, confess all, pay the fine and throw myself on the mercy of whichever librarian deals with my sad, sorry case.
Believe you me, this is going to sting…
Wow. Two whole weekdays without posting. Miss me?
It probably isn’t my place to say anything, but I know how much loosing Bubble hurt me (a tale for another day) so I’m going to touch on it briefly anyway, and ask you all a favour:
Obviously Callie will be in Heaven right now, happy and well cared for and blissful looking down on the world from her own personal playground of choice, but if you guys would be so kind it’d be great if you could say a prayer or send some good wishes, please, to Chris Beth.
Thanks.
...
* Wisdom teeth suck.
* Serious, what is the bloody point of them? They do no good, they serve no purpose, and we have a perfectly good set of teeth that get along just swell without them, so why, God, why?
?
* The dentist told me my mouth was too small.
* Ok, that wasn’t EXACTLY what she said; she said “can’t you open it wider?
I can’t see a thing” twice which obviously totally translates to “your mouth is too small” because I couldn’t open it any wider, and, and, because it just does.
* “Bet that’s the first time anybody’s ever hinted that,” was my Grandfather’s helpful comment when I rang him last night to tell him about it.
* Did you know that The Look can be transmitted and received through phone lines?
* Good to know, though.
* My gums hurt.
* A lot.
* I have whined about this.
* A lot.
* Is it just me that panics when the first advertisements for Mother’s Day start showing and grabs the nearest person saying “Crap! Have I missed it? When is it?
WHEN IS IT??”
* Yes, I really have done that.
* Yes, the person was very nice about it. In fact, his response was: “Mother’s Day? Christ, is that NOW?
God, is it today? D’you think it’s today? If it is I’m in serious trouble…”
* Why is it that the first few posters saying things like “SPOIL YOUR MOTHER THIS MOTHER’S DAY” never have the date on them?
Is it a cruel ploy of the advertising guys to make people panic buy gifts and cards? If it is (which it very likely is) then those people are evil and should burn in Hell.
* No, I’m not in a very good mood today.
In fact, I’m in a rotten mood. I have period pain, yo-yoing hormones, raw and swollen gums, a headache and a serious need to put my fist through something.
* My colleague is wisely keeping his mouth shut today.
* I want some orange juice.
* I don’t know why. I just do.
* Am I the only one who is glad that this (
To clarify; it’s not that I disagree with her principles, and it’s not even the fact that I disagree with the Muslim faith (I disagree with most ‘faiths’ being honest) itself - the reason I am glad is because things have been one sided for far too long, and it is great to see somebody fighting back.
Example: in high school there was a strict dress code.
Girls worse skirts either black or blue, no makeup, no jewellery of any kind, including religious items such as crucifixes. All well and good, but the thing was that rule was enforced on only the Catholic/Protestants. It was not enforced on Muslims or Hindus, who got to wear basically whatever they wanted (bar the headgear) and were quite often heavily adorned with ‘articles of faith’ as well as wearing trousers.
I wore a cross at all times beneath my uniform because I had promised my grandmother I would wear it. Once when it was spotted I was ordered to take it off, and upon pointing out a that Hindu girl walking past (laden down with bangles and sporting decorative orange patterns on her hands and face) was also wearing jewellery, as were many others, I was told hers were religious.
“Well, I’m a Christian” I explained.
“This is a Christian symbol.”
“You still have to remove it,” was the reply.
“Will she have to remove hers?
”
The teacher looked uncomfortable. “No.”
“Why not?
” I demanded icily. (In my defence I liked and had no problem with the girl in question personally. I was just proving a point) “Why must I remove a symbol of MY faith that is mostly hidden beneath my blouse while she is allowed to flaunt hers openly?
”
“Just remove it at once,” the teacher snapped huffily.
When I refused, citing that until the double standards had been removed I would continue wearing my religious symbol, I was given detention for being ‘flippant’, which I refused to attend (I was quite the trouble maker in high school) on principal, and although I was never bothered about it again I knew others that had been, were, and would be in the future.
It used to make me angry how hypocritical the whole thing was.
Another example was that it had taken several years of campaigning dating back well before I attended and only finishing a term before I left before the rules were ‘bent’ and girls of whatever faith could wear trousers in winter.
Anyhow, the gist of my opinion is simple. Schools that have dress codes should enforce them and the enforcement should be universal across the board.
That school as it has been reported on the news had a policy stating no headwear of any kind, religious or otherwise, and it should have been followed regardless of the girl’s faith. The reason there is such tension in England right now is because of the double standards held in not only the law in general but the schools, which are still supposed to be predominantly Christian, Church of England.
Sorry, I will now shut up about it.
Moving on…
… * Bingo jumped into a bog again. Luckily he then jumped into a clean running stream shortly afterwards negating my need to wash him off when we got home as well as rubbing him down with a towel.
* As yet I have managed to get away with not giving Bingo a single bath.
* Yes, I am aware how lucky I am.
* Yes, I am aware that luck will not last.
* I still want orange juice.
* And vodka, I've decided. Yup. A vodka and orange would be great right about now.
* The painkillers I took for my horribly painful gum have worn off and I forgot to bring any more.
* OW.
* And finally, before I leave you alone for this week, another little video clip for your enjoyment, this one introducing you to a rather mean looking piece of machinery that you may find yourself at the business end of should you ever mistreat your office paper shredder, that I have (of course) affectionately given a name.
Guys, meet Bertha: the big mamma of the shredding would that you seriously do NOT want to piss off.
Toodle-pip.
Pet hate coming up...
My fine friend Adams has written a short post (which I promise you will be far more eloquent and elegantly stated than mine should nice manners and refinement be what you're after) regarding the growing trend of people wanting to shut down fast food joints because they are so bad for you and cause health problems.
Uh-huh.
Wanna take your cigarette out of your mouth and pull over your car while you’re saying that?
No, really, come over here. I’m going to share a little secret with you.
Closer…
Ready.
..?
WE KNOW IT’S BLOODY BAD FOR US!
And guess what? We STILL like it!
And we will STILL eat junk food despite all the health warnings and despite all your pompous self-righteous blusterings. And you know why?
Because we can.
Look, seriously. When are you guys going to get it through your skulls that moderation is NOT a four letter word. Really!
It isn’t! It actually has *counting* ..
.TEN letters and means something rather important that everybody should learn.
Yup, fast food is bad for you.
You are completely right. So is wine (alas!).
So is cake (double alas). So is chocolate (words cannot describe the ‘alas’). So is practically everything, if done in excess, so here we get back on to our magic word: MODERATION is the key!
YES! It IS! You CAN eat at McDonalds (don't piss off the guy/girl serving you though, could have dire consequences) and not get fat.
..If you only go every now and again.
As a treat, an optional extra, a sometimes, an occasional. And let you in on another really enlightening secret: YOU DON’T HAVE TO GO IN AND BUY ANYTHING!
Really!
You don’t. You can just walk on by feeling all big and proud of yourself and find somewhere nice and health conscious full of other boring, smug, egotistical idiots such as yourself and tuck into a nice healthy bowl of guinea-pig droppi…I mean, muesli.
Honest!
Nobody forces My advice to you? Don't shut the junk food places down. Let us enjoy our occasional fat filled artery clogger and we’ll let you deal with learning to have some fucking self restraint, ok?
Good.
Thank you. That is all. Uh, guys? You know when I told you I would tell you the 'True' story “that's so amazingly funny that it's unbelievable?
” I lied.
Ok, confession time.I don’t actually have an amazingly funny and unbelievable story.
I do have a few stories that are true and occasionally might give you a giggle and may certainly raise a few eyebrows here and there but are certainly not “so amazingly funny that it's unbelievable”, and below this disclaimer lies the first of them, a tale of woe aptly entitled: Shrew Adventure – Tale of the Unfortunates.
One time (at band camp… No, seriously..
.) I was inadvertently responsible for the death of a family of shrews, a memory that makes me cringe with guilt and remonstration whenever I think of it.
It was late at night one hot summer day when I heard the high pitched shrieks.
Dazedly meandering downstairs I came upon Simba, crouched eagerly ready to pounce at something he had cornered by the bottom step. Leaning in for closer investigation I discovered a tiny shrew, shivering and terrified, trapped with nowhere to hide.
I had to act, and did, impulsively dragging the cat (who protested loudly and violently) into the living room and shutting him inside before running into the kitchen for supplies which included a box, a towel and a broom.
I was going to Save The Shrew.
By myself.
I wasn’t going to call my brother, who was usually in charge of dealing with the creatures attacked by our cats, be them dead or alive – no, I was going to do this independently.
I was going it alone.
Turns out I didn’t need to use the broom. The shrew was where the cat had reluctantly left it, so afraid that it was frozen in place, eyes set and glazed with a wild fear that I have never seen before, and never want to see again.
Kneeling down I popped the box beside me and after making the sign of the cross, began my daring rescue attempt. I crooned reassurances as armed with the towel I grasped the tiny animal which upon contact suddenly unfroze and started struggling with a might and determination you wouldn’t expect from a creature of such small stature, and with great difficulty popped him/her into the box, upon which the indignant Shrew began running from corner to corner and top speed, squeaking indignantly.
Stifling the urge to scream obscenities regarding the pain in my thumb and the side of my hand caused by a series of vicious bites right through the towel and into skin with sharp Shrew Teeth (I ask you; that’s gratitude for you, isn’t it?
) and ignoring the blood seeping quickly from the wounds I ran out into the night, barefoot and in my night dress - don’t get excited guys, it was a plain cotton nightgown that reached down to just above my ankles and besides, at that age I was the size of a hideously overweight hippo - out of the garden and across the road to the conveniently nearby park. Gently laying the box down, I whispered “goodbye, and good luck” to the caged and frightened animal before turning its prison on its side and releasing it into the long grass.
It was gone in an instant.
Walking slowly back inside I was thrilled with myself. I had saved one of God’s creatures from being eaten by my cat; no mean feat as usually it was too late by the time we found his victims, either firmly in his mouth or half eaten.Yup, I was jolly pleased with myself for being so resourceful and shutting him away thus clearing the danger and then dealing with releasing a live (and biting) animal back into the wild all by myself without summoning help.
When I got back indoors I remembered that I had to release him.
‘Funny’, I thought to myself as I turned the handle. ‘Normally he would be clamouring loudly to get out; after all, I had forcibly taken him away from his toy stroke snack…’
I opened the door.
I expected him to come racing out, upset and indignant, searching wildly for his new plaything I had so cruelly deprived him of. But, he didn’t. Instead he came sauntering past me looking smugly pleased with himself.
Confused, I went into the room he had just vacated and turned on the light.
It was then I saw the other shrews, lifeless bodies dotted all over the floor. With a sickening churn in my stomach and brain I noted the evidence of a chase, of struggle; papers from shelves everywhere, scuff marks on the carpet, chairs knocked over - I had shut him in with them, shut them in with him.
I had caused the death of all those shrews in my determination to save just one.
Slowly, oh so slowly, I walked back into the hall, all feelings of pride and happiness gone as I yelled up the stairs to my brother to come down and help me. He appeared, eventually, disgruntled and angry to be woken at such an ungodly hour, but his anger evaporated as he saw my stricken face and observed the devastation in the living room.
And I finally started to cry...
..
* My old and second second hand laptop refuses to have more than one Microsoft Word document open at the same time. Annoying to say the least when I am Cut n Pasting between two things.
* I watched a Morse episode last night that I had never seen before. I thought I had seen every one.
Seems I was wrong. There are three in the complete series that my grandfather purchased (well, two now) that I have not seen.
* Squealer seems to be acting normally now, back to her old dignified slightly snooty self, prefering mum's company to anyone else's and mostly only grudgingly accepting attention from me.
She is still more affectionate in her old age than she used to be (now she lets me stroke her, and sometimes? She purrs) but no longer seems to be feeling upset and insecure. All is well.
* Simba has stopped eating then throwing up bits of my spider plant, but now we think he's coming down with cystitis again. Oh joy.
* Funny, that.
To think, we have been clever enough to send people to the moon and bring them back in one piece, but nobody as yet knows exactly how cats purr, or where in their body they do it. Odd.
* Suzie was in kitty heaven yesterday because Mike stopped over.
It took throwing her off the bed (yes, literally. What? *parts hands in bewildered fashion* Oh come on, I throw her gently guys: I don't lob her off the bed as if I'm aiming for a strike out at a cricket match, it doesn't hurt her.
Sheesh, lighten up...
) three times at midnight to get her to realise that we had finished lavishing attention on her and wanted to go to sleep now please.
* Instead of his normal 6:30-7:30 run with yours truly, Bingo has gone with mum to have a run with his brother Paddy at 10, which he will enjoy far more than walking round the fields and woods of Springfield with boring old me.
* I got to lie in for a WHOLE HOUR AND A HALF!
Yes sirs! It was 7:30 before I dragged myself out of bed. I don't get one tomorrow, but still.
It was nicer today anyway, because it meant I got to spend lonfger cuddled up asleep next to my love.
* Nan (you remember nan? The one who told me I was fat) is besotted with Bingo, the dog she didn't want me to get and gave me Hell over.
He is besotted with her as well, mostly because whenever he goes to see her he gets lots of attention and more importantly a new chew bone.
Ah, cupboard love..
.
* Mock The Week is not on tonight. It seems the series is finished.
I feel very cheated.
* Hi to Anne! (That's 'Anne', not to be confused with 'Ann' from Roc Rebel
Must remember that one.
Hmm. Maybe I can start a religion of my own, in readiness.
.. Will give it some thought.
Anyway, Anne has been added to my list of cool things, because like everybody else on that list, she's, well, cool.
* I'm bored.
* Thank God It's Friday.
Unoriginal, but true.
* I have a cool pen. It's a free one from Albany Software (they send us dozens of the things) and is all chunky with funky red bits and a cool clip.
Yup. Cool pen. Yup.
* Today's funny thing:
Not sure if that will work for everyone, so, ever organised (Ha!) and just in case, I have a plan B:
* If neither of those work I shall be upset.
* Our server has only gone down once this morning and seems to be restarting, slowly, oh so slowly, without problem.
So far so good...
* I have successfully followed a healthy eating plan for two weeks without blips or even wanting to blip. May seem like a short unimpressive period of time to you guys, but trust me, in terms of being without chocolate from Sunday-Friday (Saturday is treat day, if I have been good), it is a bloody age.
* I predict that by the end of April not only will my work trousers that stopped fitting at Christmas (damn you triple chocolate gatuex { sweets, port, crisps, biscuits, wine, Cadbury's chocolate, Tesco's own toffee cheesecake, .
...
} damn you!) fit again, they wiill be a little bit loose.
* Yay!
* I have finished reading the Agatha Christi I read snippets of yesterday whilst the server (and our email system) died, was coaxed back into life, then died again, and so on and so forth. It is called The Labours Of Hercules; a Hercule Poirot story. Or rather, twelce little Hercule Poirot stories.
It was very good: I recommend it.
* Oh. The server has finished rebooting.
I now have to Cut n Paste this and get back to work.
* Drat. Specially for you, Ann Another possibly true, possibly false story for you lucky, lucky people. Enjoy The following story is absolutely true. Or absolutely false.
Be my guest and try to figure out which one it is:
Always those same two sets of people. Mum kept sending them away (with difficulty; how many polite ways of saying "no thankyou" ARE there in English?) and they kept just coming right back after a few days grace had been granted, as though as heathens (which as Christians who are not Jehovah's Witnesses we obviously are, of course) we had neither memory capacity or reliable brainpower and would not only forget that we had ever seen them but also suddenly become more amenable to the idea of the sort of people who picket with placards outside places like gay bars and abortion clinics calling innocent people horrible names or quoting extracts from a book - suppsedly written God but that was actually penned by four guys with prejudices against women, homosexuals and in fact anybody else different from themselves - 'helping' us.
Anyhoo, one fine evening we saw them coming up the path, and I told mum to let me handle it. Naturally, considering the blunt honestly and lack of tact I am notably famous for, she was dubious about the idea and made me promise I would be 'polite'. I did, and she, tired of it all to the point of screaming waved her hand to indicate they were all mine.
The door knocked.
I opened it.
Ah, it was the men, a pair of pompous, self righteous prats, all ripe and ready to lead to the slaughter.
Mentally I rubbed my hands together with glee. I had already decided what to say..
.
ME: (enquiringly) Yes?
JW1: (smoothly with a disgustingly ingratiating smile) good evening madam.
We are from the Brothers of Fellowship Church and come to you with a message of both great joy and urgency regarding the fate of mankind. What is your name, daughter of God?
ME: (calmly) Oh, I've found Jesus.
JW1: (surprised) You have?
ME: (airily) Oh yes.
He's sat in my living room.
JW1: (taken aback) What?
ME: (smiling pleasantly) Yup.
Found Him by chance in an alleyway near the New Road Trading Estate last night. Lucky I came along when I did, actually; He was about to get His head smashed in by a group of bikers after turning their stash of imported beer into water. Want to talk to Him?
JW1 2: Uhhhh...
ME: No? Oh, that's a shame, bet He'd have been thrilled to meet you. He says mankind as a whole is screwed by the way, so best enjoy youself while you can: we're already on our second case of beer.
..At least, I am; guy's a lightweight - three bottles and He's down for the count.
Must be used to wine, eh? ..
.Oh, you're going?
JW1 2:.
...
..
ME: (calling after the hastily retreating figures) sure you don't want to come in?
You could have a beer? It's good stuff - Polish. Come on, He'll come to any time now, and I'm sure He'll be tickled pink to talk to you, you guys being two of his Dad's 'special people' and all.
.. No?
Ah well, suit yourself (shutting the door I turn to find my mother staring at me, arms folded and eyebrows raised) ...
What?
MUM: (smilingly shaking her head) Honestly, what am I going to do with you? I don't know whether to ground you or give you an Oscar!
How on Earth did you keep a straight face??
ME: (winking) I didn't get an 'A' in Drama for nothing, sweetheart.
..
The End.
You decide.
..
* Finally made contact with a very close friend (who is away at University doing a degree and work that I with my lack of comphrehension have no hope of understanding - something to do with Science) after several weeks of worrying about her and trying to find out her address so I could send her a birthday card. She is fine, stressed out, crippled with paperwork and revision, in love, in angst because of being separated from the object of that love, and in need of chocolate and wine, the former I will send to her now I have the address that I cleverly lost.
Until her birthday tomorrow she is 20. She is also super cool, super smart and one of the best friends I could ever ask for. I gave her both my email and my Blog address, so, if you're reading this Louise: hi!
:o)
* Welcome
* Welcome Susiebadoozie also, who not only visited, but left TWO comments. In answer to your question regarding the poem yesterday, yes, I DID just "spit that out". I write all my poems that way - spur of the moment as 'twer.
In regards to your brutally honest son and your appearance, sqeezing zits (or spots as we call them) can be a fun and gross pursuit, and when cultivated and tended properly, mustaches can be very fetching; after all, look at Hercule Poirot.
* BTW, I am addicted to Blogging in all of its forms as well, and my cat Simba keeps guzzling bits of my spiderplant every time he goes into the kitchen, only to throw it all up again, usually in front of me and somewhere it will stain.
* Must be spring, Suzie has started bringing in worms and leaving them strategically around the house again.
* Squealer has been acting strangely; coming into my room and needing fuss and comfort from me and if he's there Mike, usually a job that only mum (being Squealer's pet) is allowed to carry out. I think she feels under the weather which is making her insecure. Poor old thing.
She's 10 this year. Better keep a close eye.
* Cool site:
If you want to skip straight to the awards themselves, click on the following:
* It's pretty dark in here. Better turn on the light.
* *click!
*
* That's better.
* I may or may not get to see Mike tonight as he may or may not have a family thing that his mother may or may not have mentioned to him previously that may or may not be happening tonight.
* *sigh.
*
*My lunch today consists of two low fat Tesco's own yogurts and an Apple (yes, Granny Smith), and for breakfast I had a roast onion and mash Snack in a Pot and six crackers with Flora light spread.
* Just thought you'd want to know.
* My dog has finally realised that coming back to the whistle is a very good thing because he gets a treat every time he does it.
* My dog has also realised that if he ignores me when I try to get him to come inside from the garden for long enough I will be forced to go get the whistle to call him in and therefore he will get a treat.
* Ladies and gentlemen, I give you my dog: Sir Bingo Little Collison - the Smart and Cunning.
* Whoops, it's time for me to log off, knuckle down and start actually earning my wage.
* Ah, crap...
Introducing: and !
*applause. cheers.
applause
*JuilianB commented on my last post, so I popped over to her Blog where we have been having a nice little chat via her comments section (yes, I AM supposed to be working, but it's half an hour before home time and it's hard to concentrate and get back into the swing of things after four days away, especially with all you guys just a click of a button away, ok? Sue me) - cool, cool gal.
The first cool, cool gal I mentioned, Ms.
Susiebadoozie, has not actually to my knowledge visited One Girl Her Cats as of yet, but I checked out her site, liked what I saw, linked to her, left a comment, and we'll see how it goes. Darling Granny Ann reads and comments on both, anyway, and seeing as darling Granny Ann is the epitome of all that is cool and great, their coolness is already confirmed.
So, WELCOME JulianB Susiebadoozie!
Visiting here (in Susie's case if she does. Please do. You'll like me.
I'm odd, but I'm nice) you will find me to be many things: mature, tactful, logical, rational and normal not being amongst them.
Enjoy. Yet another poem. Turn and flee to avoid. After reading yet another post about society's strain for 'perfection', this time written by Ann, I felt so pissed off (at the situation, by the way, and not Ann, whom I of course {despite the whole apple incident} still love
So, without further a-due, ladies and gentlemen, may I present:
My pissed of poem! *applause. cheers.
applause*
My beauty is a rare sort, very rare indeed,
I am you’ll find, one of a kind, a very special breed:
I’m short, not tall - I’m fat, not thin,
Have bumps and scratches on my skin,
My eyes are grey and not quite green,
My freckled nose is easy seen.
My clothes are old and drenched with hairs,
Cat hair, dog hair, more to spare,
My hair is dark and not quite gold,
Nails bitten short, mouth wide and bold.
My figure gets stares and glares and jeers,
They hope (I think) it causes tears
That I’m so different, ‘not the norm’ -
But frankly dear, they make me yawn.
I mean, how boring for the game,
If all in life looked just the same?
My body’s rounded, voluptuous, curved,
For that, it seems, Hell is deserved.
Such revolting flesh, such flabby thighs,
Cause tortured screams: “My eyes! My eyes!”
I’m ‘ugly’ says you, and shame should feel,
For having flaws?
God’s sake, get real!”
I’m big and I’m proud. I hold my head high.
I love how I bounce, and so do the guys.
My face isn’t ugly, it’s nature at best,
Try going sans makeup yourself as my guest.
So I’m plump and you’re skinny, what is it you’ve got,
That’s better than me?
So, I’m flawed: like you’re not?
You’re slender and toned, you’ve got legs up to ‘here’;
Well, I’ve got big breasts. Call even, my dear?
You’re perfect? I think not. What lies deep inside?
To use that much foundation, there’s something to hide.
There’s more than one kind of ‘beauty’ to see
I’m telling you love, you’re no better than me.
In fact, I’ll claim high ground, ‘cause my kind’s so rare,
I am what’s called ‘natural’, and yes, you may stare.
All women have beauty, of all shapes and kinds,
But my kind is best, and so hard to find.
My beauty is a rare sort, very rare indeed,
I am you’ll find, one of a kind, a very special breed:
My beauty is real dear, and proud, as you see,
Because I’m so happy. Just being ME.
- Love them both, to be annoyingly indecisive. My favourite colour film is The Blues Brothers (as you know) and my favourite black and white is a toss up between Some Like It Hot and Laughter In Paradise.
2: What is the 1 single subject that bores you to near-death?
- Cars, I'm afraid.
3: MP3s, CDs, Tapes or Records: what is your favorite medium for prerecorded music?
- Tapes.
Like CDs almost as much, never used an MP3, and love all my mother's old records.
4: You are handed one 1st class trip plane ticket to anywhere in the world and $10 million cash. All of this is yours provided that you leave and not tell anyone where you are going … Ever.
This includes family, friends, everyone. Would you take the money and ticket and run?
- Absolutely not.
...
Although - no, absolutely not...
5: Seriously, what do you consider the world’s most pressing issue now?
- God. The MOST pressing?
The greed, I guess, contrasted with the needs of others being ignored. millionaires sitting pretty in big expensive offices and politicians with hundred thousand pound/dollar pay rises every year while billions of people are starving or in need of medical attention or a better education or an education full stop.
I suppose I'm just as bad in a way - the food I get through in a week and the money I waste on pointless and selfish things could probably amply feed, clothe and house a large family in Africa for a year- but at least I understand how lucky I am.
I doubt the people who could do the most help but refuse to out of greed will ever appreciate it.
6: How would you rectify the world’s most pressing issue?
- If had the power?
Take all the money wasted every day by the big and 'important' people (and the people that steal from charities designed to help by claiming "administrative costs"*) and use it to build wells for clean water, and good soil to grow food, and transportation to deliver help, and more nurses and teachers and hospitals and medical equipment and schools and, oh, everything charities try to buy but are thwarted in doing because of the administrative costs.
* Did you know that if you set up a charity fund for something, lets say Cancer Research, legally you only have to donate 1.5% of any money raised to the object of the charity?
Isn't that horribly ridiculous?? Just over 1p, 1p of every pound realistically actually GOES to the people you are trying to help when you put your change so faithfully and selflessly into those boxes people shake at you.
Horrendous...
7: You are given the chance to go back and change 1 thing in your life; what would that be?
- Nothing.
Ok, I'm greatly flawed, and there are many dumb and horrible things I would rather not have done, but think about it: if I change one thing, how many others would change?
And not just in my life: if I alter the past what damage would I do? I could nip back in time, sneeze on someone, come back and find that selfish, arrogant, narrow minded, bigoted and highly dangerous lunatics are in charge of our most influential countries..
.
..
.But seriously. Things could change irreparably because of one little thing I correct.
Nope.
Not for me. I'm not going down in history as the girl who made France take over the world or something.
8: You are given the chance to go back and change 1 event in world history, what would that be?
- See answer to number seven. Although, Ann, you're right.
that DOES seem tempting...
9: A night at the opera, or a night at the Grand Ole’ Opry –Which do you choose?
- I'll go with a night at the Opera, as I have no idea what/ who 'Grand Ole' Opry' is. I'll Google it and might change my mind (a woman's prerogative, eh?
) but, for now, as I said, I'm going with Opera.
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