Yo! Managing at last to get back at the keys! My morning started off really well. Put a bit of a new lighter, circular, brand bread in the toaster and listened out for the pop. When returning to the kitchen it was nowhere to be seen! Praying that we don't have a poltergoost (yes, I know the spelling is wrong but it's Eddie & Ritchie grammar we revert to in our pad once visitors have flown) I found it in the wash bowl with the soapy dishes. That must have been some jump! Back to the less energetic loaf then!
Later on, I read on Facebook that my younger son was ' considering a tattoo ' round his neck. If so, that should be quite a helpful guide when it comes to throttling him. I'm hoping it's simply been a case of Facebook 'Frape' (where someone edits your information ect, if you forget to log out!)
Next, I accidentally knocked a kid off his bike while crossing the park as I had my iPod on at mugging level. Didn't cry long, and there was no irate parent around, so I got off with that one not too badly. I thought twice about offering him hush money. And didn't.
Oh, and my youngest moved the love of his life into the spare room this afternoon. What a win for Anadin.........
Finally, the doctor gave me the exciting news that I've to have a bowel op in November to straighten out a kink that's been giving me gyp, but apart from that, suicidal bread and bad grammar, it's been just an ordinary affair today has!
oh..... I start my art classes next week. I'm sure they'd be happy for me to bring in a empty bottle of red wine for my still life intro item.........
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A bit behind this week, so posting a very quick, limerick........
There once was a geezer named Ken
Who lost his way now and again
His car wouldn't shift
Lest be it adrift
With balloons and a mighty Amen
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The Cheaper Half has been sick for the first time in 20 years. No, he hasn't gone out and bought the new Bruce Springsteen album, nothing that serious, but physically thrown up - diced carrots, the works! Suffering quite bad stomach cramps too, so I even allowed him control of the television remotes. See how indepth the caring is going on here!? I'd forgotten how much pleasure others' suffering can be. But marital thick / thin, better / worse, kinda stuff is included in the long run with directions on the side of the packet.
Anyhoo - as he was at 'death's door', just about to scrape his sole on old St. Pete's doormat, I thought I'd take his mind of his misery by doing a bit of laptop cemetery surfing. I never knew there was so much fun and adventure to pegging it. Maybe there is something to this mortal coil malarkey after all!
He wants a headstone with fins, like these chaps:
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Some take their surname and turn it into solid matter:
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Big kudos for the one who thought this one up:
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Then comes the bizzare, WTF, howd'ya fathom this one out?:
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The thought behind this one is simply genius:
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If only this wasn't but a clever photoshop! How busy would this cemetery be? Bring your own personal gaming device as a mark of respect and to carry on gobbling, too:
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But my favourite by far is this pet gravestone! Now that's a cracking sense of humour!
It really can be a funny old thing, shuffling off this mortal coil ..........but Get Well Soon nonetheless, hubbs..xXx
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Nigel was a four-wheeled hater,
feeding up the carburetor
- of his brand new black and silver motorbike.
Said it gave a sense of freedom,
and we didn't really need 'em
- fussy leather suits and helmets and the likes
He waited until suns had set,
deliberately he'd forget
- to cover up his scrawny bag of bones
Rode naked as the day is long,
completing every bare furlong,
- feeling every bump from every fallen stone!
Moors with trees and mossy mounds,
became his chosen riding ground,
- and he revved his biker's glory to the hilt
No windscreen there to hang things cubic,
windswept hair and all things pubic
- feeling how a Scotsman proudly wears his kilt!
Such a feeling to be free,
and for the whole wide world to see
- nature joining with the beauty of machines
Tomorrow he would make his point,
and would doubly annoint
- could a human oily body be obscene?!
So he took a slow commute,
in his grown up birthday suit
- tying back and tucking under things that dangle
But in this mode that he preferred,
a sirens' shrill was clearly heard
- he had to look at things now from a different angle!
Hard he kicked and rode away,
in the naked light of day
- there were crimes in life he'd never ever deem
Though such a liberating sight,
could only fulfill joy at night
- and moon the moon in motorbike head-beams!
The next night came - and he was laughing
(though certain bits of him were chafing!)
This dusty pink cloud racing towards he......
Vroom! Vroom! Vroom! My God! He spied her,
a two-wheeled Lady Godiva
- giving it the very best of Delta - V
So, the pair grew old together,
and only in the kinder weather
- they'd ride over moors in old butt-naked glee
He nut cracked, she nipple surfed,
both for better or for worse
On two wheels or future hacker should it be!
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Okay. I admit that I'm the biggest pain in the arse when it comes to summer. Frankly, I hate it! Why? Well, the heat's my biggest problem. Can't tolerate it. Being a thick-haired strawberry blonde and having pasty skin doesn't help as I burn to buggery. And I hate the long nights! Not dark till 10pm or later and daylight has birds chirping at three in the morning. Open the windows to keep cool at night and you can't sleep for outside noise. Keep em closed and you're too hot. And everyone's hot and moody. School holidays, brats everywhere. I take my holidays between autumn and spring.
Anyhow - my complaint today?? Well, God seems to not only plenish me with too much hair, he also likes to charge me up as well. You see, I'm a walking static builder. Three times today, three ruddy times I've had a right smarting crack spark, just going about my business. Once from the bus driver's money tray, one from the escalator in the mall, and finally, one right f***ing zapper from a metal high street flap advertiser for - would you believe it - ice cream! Taking the piss or what!!??
In my younger years, the below song would be sung to me from my siblings with every shock I endured. They thought it apt, mainly for the 'whips and zappy' sounds in it. Such a sympathetic family, my lot......
☼ I'll either survive the next couple of months by staying firmly indoors or buying car anti-static strips and running them down my legs. ☼
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Remember to have a visit to my quick fun sister blog this a whip-crack-away!
Gee - there he goes, in his country-bum clothes,
a wannabe-some-sort of stud
Chancing his luck, always splattered in muck,
all the charm of an overripe spud!
That girl in the town, with the permanent frown,
who works in the 'Ocean Fresh' shop,
Well wiggles her hips as she walks and eats chips -
once smiled at him at the bus stop
And hence he has tried, to again catch her eyes,
but he's nervously fumbled and foiled
Endlessly did he pop, in that fish 'n' chip shop,
where he fretted and sweated and boiled!
Now he must up his chances, elongate the glances -
and uproot that damned paranoia
Smile sweetly and say, he supplies everyday -
new potatoes to her shop's employer!
He'll invite her to dinner! That should be a winner!
So what should he make from their tatties?
Would he blend? What to try? Should he fritter or fry?
Or breadcrumb a few salmon patties?
Yes, he musters away, in that field every day,
with thoughts of the girl in his head
Just a full breath then ask, quite a menial task,
- sets off with good feelings, no dread
But his dreams get all mashed, his intentions are dashed,
when she fancies one more a la carte.
Sees them both linking arms, roasting hope, roasting charm
- all digging down deep in his heart
It was never to be, that beauty and he -
who smelled like a sweet pickled egg
But, visits the village, when fresh from his tillage,
- his chances now roll into segue........
A new girl was seen, peeling pods ripe and green,
at the fruit and veg shop in the town
So without hesitation, said he fed the whole nation
with the finest of King Edwards' crowns
Sat across from the other, they smiled, often stuttered
exchanging the giggles and glares
A saute delight, each and every night,
hot potatoes and cinnamon pears!
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I tend to get a bit down after a visit from my daughter and son-in-law. Having female company for a change is fairly hard to let go of, especially Kerri, whom, by her own admission is also a ladette of the highest ranking.
Sadly, the I.V.F. that she and her hubby underwent didn't result in success, but it was the first attempt. It therefore gives me more time to create my own funky little baby knits and personalised Politically unCorrect tiny T-shirts.
The news was taken extremely well and I'm in awe of how resilient she and James are. Most of all, they still have youth on their side. Anyhow, their visit to Scotland, in among her mad family roots helped a teensy bit, too! AND.....Kerri is actually returning to London with a TAN!
The day will come for that extra member of the clan to appear and she or he will be protected by roses and thistles and red and blue skies from that day onwards.
We're waiting fondly, little peep!
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I just wanted to say before midnight is upon me, a huge HAPPY BIRTHDAY to Debbie Harry. She has been my musical heroine since I was fourteen. Doesn't she look great for 68 !? Go on Debs, sing yourself a song!!
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