Thursday, 29 December 2011

cowgirl presents . . . #6

Hi folks, 
The highly esteemed and very 'bumable' dirtycowgirl, has bestowed upon me the honor of guest posting on her behalf whilst she is away being lazy sunning herself in warmer climes.
As she didn't have the time to ask anyone else an offering of gratitude, I bring you the following post...and remember after reading this, that hate crime (against me) and stoning (also against me) are both criminal acts in the western world.

There's a striped legged Okapi in my bathroom and it's standing by the sink.

The Lil man has an irrational fear of spiders and will often fall into throes of hysteria at the mere sight of one. It really is quite odd. I've no idea where he gets his strong aversion to arachnids from. (Cough)
I'm not even really sure how his phobia begun. (Cough cough) It really is  quite unnerving to see. (Not really, dem things is HUUUUGE!)


Sometimes he will spy an arachnid the size of a pin head from a pace of a 100 yards away and then a mild frenzy will ensue and by mild frenzy, I mean running around the house and wailing in a high pitch that only dogs and marine wildlife, such as Dolphins can hear. 
He will often exaggerate it's proportions: "I'm not lying mother. It really was the size of a four door, 6230cc, 4 speed automatic, 172 horsepowered 1969 Bentley".  
As well as it's activities: "And then it barred it's sharp poisonous fanged teeth, gave a deep growl from deep within it's stomach and almost blinded me with it's deadly venomous toxins"

I really haven't a clue where he gets he skill for the over dramatics from. (A-hem)
So when on Saturday morning I heard this-


Yes, this really was the best I could come up with for 'monster'...Bite me!

I expected to see a spider the size of which, I probably would only be able to identify by way of a very powerful microscope.
By the time I had fetched my trusted Electrolux 2000 and gone to rescue my child from the gaping maw of the savage and mutant monstrosity, it had inexplicably vanished.

Lil man panting and breathing quite heavily from fright: " I think it's gone behind the mirror".

Me panting and breathing quite heavily with the exertion of carrying the blasted Electrolux 2000 up fourteen bloody steps:" Okay, we'll wait here for a few seconds and see if it reappears".

30 bloody minutes later...

Me:Okay, it obviously isn't ready to show itself yet. Do you remember what it looked like?

Lil man: Yeah, it had an orange body and six legs. 

Me: OK.

Lil man: Oh yea and one eye.

Me: *Blink* 

Lil man:(*Blink*) You're going to ask me if I've been smoking crack again aren't you?

Me: Nope. I've made a promise that I shall no longer use those particular words again.

Lil man: Who did you promise?

Me: The readers of my blog.

Lil man: But the readers of your blog don't live here.

Me: I know.

Lil man: So how would they know if you've said it or not?...Oh...You're going to write about this aren't you?

Me: Yep.

Lil man: Well I doubt that your readers will be interested in this . . . any four of them. . . . 

Me (trying my best to ignore him as it takes all my effort not to grab him by the back of his scrawny neck and shove his head down the toilet, whilst laughing maniacally with glee): I think we should Google it and find out if such a creature exists.

So with that, we gathered around the computer, though I wasn't sure if two people could be classed as being able to 'gather' seeing as, well you know, there are only two of us.

Me typing out relevant info: So we're looking for an insect with an orange body and six legs?

Lil man: And one eye, don't forget the one eye.

Me:  Mmm. Let's leave that piece of information to one side for the moment shall we?

Lil man: OK. . .  (Watches silently as I type) What's 'Hot male on male action?"

Man action, not Action Man . . .stupid Google search! 
I'm pretty sure I dated this guy once. . . . 

Me: WHAT??!!

Lil man : ' It says there Hot. Male. On. Male. Action.'  Look, it's down the side of your browsing history. What is it?

Me: Oh. .um. .ooh it's hot in here. . .It's um. . .about. . er. . .it's about. . .

Lil man: And what's  'Breakfast on Tiffany and Inspect her gadget?' Shouldn't that be Inspector Gadget? I think they made a typo.

Me: Well. . .it's. . .it's. . .Oh look!  (as info comes up on screen via wiki answers, that font of pure knowledge.) Orange insect with six legs. But it says here that this one has stripes on it's legs. Did the one you saw have stripes?

Lil man ponders for a moment: Mmmm, yeah, I'm fairly certain it had stripes. . . (ponders some more) Yep, it definitely had stripes.

Me: Well according to this, our insect is called an Okapi.

Lil man excitedly: Quick, click on to images. 

So clicking on images, we both expected to see this:

But what we saw instead was this:

Me as jaw hits the floor: This is what you saw in the bathroom? You're telling me, that  THIS is exactly what you saw in the bathroom?

Lil man: Of course not, don't be was a little bit smaller than that.

I lily, will be appearing at a mental institution near you soon.


If that tickled you, go and check out Lily's blog. It's the absolute opposite of all those soppy mushy vomit inducing mommy blogs - she is single, and a parent but the similarity ends there.

Thursday, 22 December 2011

cowgirl presents . . . #5

Ladies and gentlemen I give you Gweenbrick.

Now go and check out his blog - it's absolutely hilarious.
Keep a look out for the product reviews, Thomas, and my personal favourites, the Jeffrey posts.

Thursday, 15 December 2011

cowgirl presents . . . #4

Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you Stupidstu. .

Stupidity, slutty women who ride horses and a bunch of cunts!

Well I would firstly like to say hello to all of DCG’s regular followers and then straight away warn you that this post may contain more swear words than one of DCG’s regular posts?
In fact, what the fuck am I talking about? this girl has a mouth like a hung over brickie!

So with that out of the way, firstly a little bit about ME. (Shameless plug for my blog coming).
I have only been blogging for a couple of months now and to be honest mine and DCG’s blogs are similar in the way they aren’t really about anything interesting, just a load of shite thrown together about anything that we find funny or relevant at the time. You may all be aware that DCG at the moment is starting to show her age of 28 my arse by blogging about her son going through puberty about 15 years ago and her and the Man-o-pause she can’t pull anymore because she sweats a lot.

So my post is about one of the first things she blogged about and this will hopefully bring back some of the good old days for her whilst she is sunning herself in India stoned out of her mind!

The one thing me and DCG really have in common is we share a love of something, something pure yet misunderstood by most people as being offensive when really it is a source of joy and laughter in our lives!! That thing is the beautiful word ……..cunt!

I know that some people take offence to the word but below I have got some pictures and to me the only thing the word does is make the pictures funny and certainly not offensive. Hopefully we can break some boundaries today people?!

I know that after I have had a night on the tiles I certainly need a rest!

This classic works well either way round! ….Think about it! This was on DCGs original post but for me it’s a must have! If you have read my book club post then you would know that if a penguin or penguinette says someone is a cunt it has to be true!

Now I am sorry but if this man, the late great John Peel can wear a t-shirt saying that HE is a cunt then how is that offensive? Just imagine a loved one, maybe your auntie Mavis wearing one saying Auntie Mavis is a cunt!! Hilarious!

I will leave you with something that is directly taken from DCGs fabulous post as I think it would be a fitting way to finish up and I quote …….

“I am proud of my cunt, it has been the source of some fine times, and played a major role in my greatest achievement - the birth of my son. And yet I realise that by writing the word here some people might have an issue with reading this, I daresay some might even not read this post at all simply because of the title. I often use the word in my facebook status and as a result I've had quite a few people delete me.”

If DCG has actually gone ahead and posted this then I would like to thank her for very foolishly allowing me to guest post on her blog and I think you will agree with me when I say that her blog is always full of shit entertaining and I hope she is having a blast in Goa off her face on ecstasy?!
I don’t know how many of you have ever met DCG for real but I got this footage of her when I was stalking her at a street party so please enjoy!

Thanks for reading,
Stupidstu. <-------check him out !

Stu's blog is still quite new, but if you like me when I'm being sarcastic and rude you will love him.
He is also currently sunning himself on a beach in some far away place as he and his lady have embarked on an epic adventure - he gave me this post before he left - but he will be back posting in January too.

Thursday, 8 December 2011

byeeeee !!!

Well this is it.

This will be my last post for a month, and this time tomorrow I will be thousands of miles away in the sun.
To say I was a little bit excited is the understatement of the year.

Christmas on the beach is something I have always wanted to do, especially since Son grew up and I no longer had to pretend to enjoy it, and could freely admit that I actually hate this time of year.
However I do have a nativity story of my own that I love.
It was a long time ago (no, not that long, I'm not talking about Bethlehem) and Son was still mummy's special little boy. Ok, that was actually longer ago then I am prepared to admit, but he was three at the time and attending nursery school. He loved it there, all the other kids would cry when their parents left them in the morning, mine used to get upset when it was time to leave.
I went to get him and as it was one of the days when we had no lift this meant a walk to the bus stop. It wasn't that far, unless you were three years old and had just endured a long day of games, afternoon naps, making cakes, painting, story telling and generally enjoying yourself.
So he starts to complain.
Usually I would've carried him some of the way, but I had been Christmas shopping before I went to get him and had a few bags to carry. All he was carrying was his (now empty) lunchbox but apparently that was HEAVY.
He started to walk really slowly for a few minutes before stopping altogether, then puts his ghostbusters plastic lunchbox on the pavement, sits on it, folds his arms and says,
"That's it. I can't walk any more. I've got a baby in my tummy and it's coming out RIGHT NOW"

I spent the next few days wondering what on earth they were teaching him. But the next day he was there I got an invite to their nativity play and then it made sense.
Mummy's special boy had figured if it was a good enough excuse for Mary to stop and rest then it was good enough for him.

I realise it's going to be hard to cope quiet without me, but there are some guest posts appearing here over the coming month, and I do have almost a years worth of posts you could always read back through if you find yourself suffering from cowgirl withdrawl. In fact by the time I get back it will almost be LAWAFM's first birthday.
Thanks to all of you who have visited, followed, read, commented. I'm still blown away that so many of you take the time to read the nonsense and constant moaning interesting stuff that I write here.
I started blogging for me, but you all make it worthwhile :)

I love you guys.
See you next year !!!
I even made you all a Christmas Card. Well I adapted it from what was going to be a followers badge.
Don't expect too much effort I have packing to do.
 My printer's broke otherwise I would send some out, but if you really want you can copy and print it yourselves.

In the meantime. . .  here's some Christmas cheer I stole borrowed from the internet.

The night before Xmas throughout the house,
we were all fucked, even the mouse.
Dad at the brothel, mum with uncle Frank,
I'd settled down for a nice slow wank.
Outside the house I heard a right clatter,
I let go of my cock to see what was the matter.
Out on the lawn I saw a big dick,
I knew right away it was old St Nick.
He came down the chimney like a bat out of hell.
The big fat fucker, I think he fell.
He filled all our stockings with sweets and beer,
and a big rubber cock for my brother, the queer.
He rose up the chimney with a thunderous fart,
the big fat cunt blew the house apart.
He swore and he cursed as he rode out of sight,
Shouting I'll be back next year, have a hell of a night.

Joseph and Mary lived in a barn. Mary had just given birth to a baby boy, Joseph was a carpenter by trade but had no work.
On this particular day, after another unsuccessful day at the job centre, Joseph trudges back to the barn on his donkey. He then notices three men on camels carrying parcels and they take them into the barn.
Joseph gets off his donkey, storms into the barn and shouts, "For fuck's sake, Mary; we've just had a baby, I'm unemployed and you're ordering stuff off ebay."

Driving on ice is like having sex doggie style.
One slip and you can really fuck up someone's rear end.
Drive safely this Xmas

@guestposters - a friend of mine has admin just in case the scheduling doesn't work so she can publish them and any comments.
@Vee - I'll message you, I plan to get an Indian SIM for my phone so I'll let you have the number and hopefully meet you there :)

One last thing before I go.

I know it's a bit early to be saying this is my favourite christmas post as I won't be around to read all of them, but I have a feeling that even if I read loads this would still be my favourite.

Byeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Wednesday, 7 December 2011

broken ?

Something appears to be amiss with the whole following process.

I say this because of a few things.

For a while now I have noticed that some sheep followers do not show up in the gadget or the list on my dashboard, although they are included in the numbers. Some days I see them straight away, other times I need to refresh several times. And it's always just the latest.
It worries me as I would hate to have to hunt you down lose any of my flock, because even though I say I'm not that bothered if people stop following of course I will find you am really.

In the last month or so there have been a few times when someone left a comment saying they are following and they either never show in the gadget or it takes a few days.
Although again the number increases.

And no, I have established that this is not folk following via reader or subscription, the number showing as followers on the dashboard is ONLY people who follow through a blog/google account. If you follow another way the number will not increase. 

A few blogs that I have recently started stalking following myself are not showing up in my dashboard, either in the list or when they publish a new post. And I have tried adding them via google connect on the gadget and adding them manually from the dashboard.
Luckily they have feedburner so I've subscribed via email instead, but I would prefer to see them when I log in here.

I also stopped following some that were fucking boring had not posted for months, and yet they were still on my dashboard. One I removed  - after a few attempts - and a few days later it was showing there again.

Fucking annoying - all of it.
Mostly because I have missed a few posts and it's like missing an episode of a favourite TV show.
And if I see I have a new follower I want to know who they are so I can see if they are a sexy fella I can stalk go to their blog and say thanks and maybe follow back. How am I supposed to perv over their pictures and send them anonymous emails do that if  I can't even see who they are ?

All joking aside though, I kind of hoped the problems were due to introducing the new interface, when it was first rolled out the followers gadget was inclined to disappear every once in a while, but it always came back. However lately it feels like blogger is a bit broken.
If it was just the one thing I might be concerned that it was the feed for my blog that was acting up, but I'm not so sure.
Has anyone else had similar issues ?
Do my posts always show up ok in your dashboards ? Or wherever you get my updates from ?

I know it's easy enough to check for emails about new posts, or use Reader, but I kind of like having them all in the one place. It's less confusing for my mentalpause addled brain just easier to manage.

And yeah, it is 5.30am and yeah I should be sleeping but I am just TOO EXCITED TO SLEEP AS IN EXACTLY 48 HOURS THE CAR FOR THE AIRPORT WILL BE HERE !!!! And as today is my LAST DAY AT WORK I promised I would go in early so there is no point in even trying to sleep now.

So I thought I'd have a little bitch about this and see if it's affecting anyone else.

Friday, 2 December 2011

no problem

There are times when I think my life is just one long list of calamities, breakages, disasters and people and situations designed to wind me up. Everybody has those little things that go wrong from time to time, on their own each amounts to nothing more then a little hiccup in a day. But when you find yourself having enough in the course of a single week you have to wonder if there isn't someone up there looking down on you and laughing.
What can I do to piss her off today ?

I don't mean god, I don't actually believe in him. But I do believe in Karma - and I think she's a bit of a bitch and she doesn't like me very much. But she knows I can take it and she knows I can give as good as I get. I suspect she sends a lot of it my way because given to someone else it would not have quite so much entertainment value.

I'm kind of a jinx.
But I do have two saving graces, things with which I think I am blessed. One is my sense of humour as that's what stops me stressing about stuff. Nobody laughs at me, and the unfortunate events that follow me wherever I go, louder then I do myself.

The other is my gift of the gab. That can manifest as humour, bitchiness or just downright rudeness, but it never lets me down. And if blagging is an art form then I'm fucking Rembrandt. My latest triumph was phoning the company that provides my Internet, phone and satellite TV and telling them I had lost my job. I haven't, but I am fed up with giving them £60 a month. I managed to get it reduced to £20 a month for the TV and FREE Internet and phone rental for NINE MONTHS.
Yeah I'm good.

Rarely am I stuck for words in a tricky situation.
In fact they're usually out of my foul mouth before my brain has time to register what is being said. And I don't like to mince my words either.
I just read a post over on my friend Lilys blog and she kinda got me thinking, because she was saying how her blog is her but toned down, and I think the same applies here. Which then got me thinking about another calamity that happened yesterday morning, and how that was me SO NOT toned down.

I am walking to the train station.

The red arrows are the direction I was walking in.

As I'm stood about to cross the road at A, dozy cow in big car pulls in.
There is plenty of space so I thought she would just drive in and park as she can only be going to the shop, and given that it's raining you would think she'd want to park as close to the entrance as possible.
So I start to walk over the road aiming for B.
As I'm halfway across, and it's a side street so not wide, dozy cow starts to reverse.
Why ? There's enough room in front of her for a fucking bus.
So I take a step back and go to walk around her front to C.
And the idiot starts driving forward.

I just put my hands in the air and said (not shouted) "make your fucking mind up".
I changed direction again and got to B.
As I walked past she had her window open and I said,
"Don't you ever look in your mirror"
She wound her window up - quickly - and mouthed "fuck off" at me.
Now normally I would've said more, but as per I was a bit late and in danger of missing the train, so instead I just gave her the finger and walked off.

I turned the corner and started walking up the road D.
After about 5 mins the dozy cow pulls up, not beside me mind you, there are parked cars between us, winds her window down and shouts.
"Oy ! You ! What's your problem ?"
Seriously ? You really want me to tell you ? All brave sat inside your car with the engine on. Right then. . .
"FAT CUNTS WHO CAN'T PARK THEIR VEHICLES, WHY ? WHAT'S YOUR PROBLEM ?  Why don't you get out of your car and come over here and ask me to my face ?"

She drove off.
Probably a good thing she didn't get out 'cos she WAS a fat cunt. If she had sat on me I'd be laid up with broken bones right now. Chicken shit bitch.

Did you like that one Karma ?
I think Karma might be in league with the mentalpause.

Sooner I get on that beach and chill the fuck out the better I reckon.

For the rest of the walk to the station adrenalin had kicked in and I was fuming. But she made me miss the train, so when I got there I called my friend and by the time I had finished telling her what happened I was crying with laughter.

In the course of talking about this more when I got to work, my mates and I ended up talking about other times we had lost our tempers, and the conversation was hilarious. Even though we were discussing times when we had actually felt VERY angry.
Laughter really is the best medicine.
A long time ago there was a really tragic thing that happened in my family, and I remember this one conversation with my sister where we were both crying and one of us, not sure who, said something and the next minute we were laughing. I think I learned then that if you can find even the smallest thing to laugh about in the greatest times of sadness you're probably going to be alright.
It's the antidote to every negative emotion.

I also have a rather unfortunate habit of laughing when I'm nervous or have to tell someone something bad. Even if I can contain the laugh out loud I have no control over the grin that gets stuck on my face.
Possibly liable to make a person think you're more interested then you are cute and endearing on a first date.
Understandable and can make you seem pervy whilst having a breast examination for a lump. Luckily pap smears don't make me nervous.
Excusable (if you explain why you are sat there resembling the joker) during a job interview. Might actually be useful if "a good sense of humour" is listed in the job spec.

Not so good when telling your neighbour that you have just found his beloved cat dead in your garden.

Or when in a previous managerial role you had to tell someone they were losing their job.
Although to be fair she was a liability and I was very happy to be doing it.

And FYI in order to avoid unnecessary calamities it's a good idea not to put grey carpet on your stairs when you have a grey cat that likes to sit on them and a broken dimmer (that only does very dim) on the light switch. I can't work out whether the cat thinks I'm trying to kill him or if he's trying to kill me.

Reminds me of a date I once went on.

Actually I think although laughter might indeed be the best medicine, blogging is a very good placebo. More and more I find when life throws one of it's little hiccups at me I think "I can bore people with write about this".

Which makes me wonder if Karma and Blogger are in fact the same person ?
Or have at least done some kind of a deal.

Wednesday, 30 November 2011

sick and tired


I have just spent four days laid up with a horrible stomach bug.
You know the kind, where you think you're about to fart, so you do. And realise just in time that it isn't a fart.
Fucking vile.
An entire weekend laid on my bed in agony and two days off work.
I hate that, makes me feel like I have let people down and that is not something I want to do.

And I am now seriously behind with the list of things-I-need-to-do-before-epic-holiday. I'm not that bothered about delivering the few xmas presents I have for people, Son won't mind doing that for me. Nor do I really care about packing too many clothes, it's going to be hot and we will be mostly on the beach so as long as I have packed all fifteen of my bikinis I'll be ok.

But I am worried that I won't have time to get my legs waxed.
If you hear reports on the news of the missing link being spotted on a beach in Goa you'll know the truth.

I've been feeling so ill I haven't even really turned the computer on, and as it's a laptop that takes very little effort, but when I did so just now it's like I have a hundred new posts to read on my followed blogs.
Fuck knows if I'll ever catch up on reading after a month away.
And my OCD tendencies will mean that I feel I have to.

However what I have managed to do is get the guest posts ready, you lot are in for a few treats while I'm gone. I have to say the people I asked all said pretty much the same thing - that they weren't happy with what they gave me.
Why is everyone their own worst critic ?
I think they're all great (there are three, one per week) so I really hope that after reading them you will all go and check out the respective authors blogs. You won't be disappointed.

I also recently started following Interwebs Fails, go and take a look, I'll wait. . .
Honestly I thought the people I had as 'friends' on facebook were a sad indictment of the human race, but some of the stuff he posts there makes me worry for our future.
If aliens are monitoring us they are probably tapping into the web, and looking at most of that they are probably thinking lets blow them the fuck up there is no intelligent life on earth. But some of the 'questions' posts I've seen there reminded me that I once joined a question forum so I went off to have a look.


That's not what I was taught, but I can see how it might happen. 

Don't confuse birth control with your creepy uncle.
(@IWF feel free if you want to use these, I'd be kinda honoured if you did :)

Regular readers know I buy far too many shoes on I'm a big fan of ebay, and one thing I regularly look out for is Uggs, I'm very good at spotting the fakes too.
But last week before the sick bug got me I saw these,

Look at the fucking state of them !
There's used and then there's knackered, worn out, filthy and with a hole in the side. Yes, it is a hole, there were other pictures that showed it better.
She was asking for a starting price of £50 for fuck sake. I've bought genuine brand new Uggs for not much more then that, so I had to go and read the description.

Oh wait, it's ok it's just a little bit.
That's a fucking full on landslide going on with those monstrosities.
If that's your idea of luxury love then I really don't want to see what you wear when you're slumming it.
If I got fifty quid for them I'd be throwing a fucking party.
The only thing they are fit for is the bin.
Anyway of course I had to go and look at the 'similar items'. After all - they couldn't be any worse.
Could they ?

And then the proverbial penny dropped.

This person is hoping that weirdo perverts are going to buy her old tat.
She even had a pair of knickers amongst her stuff, it said they were new 'to comply with ebay terms' but they didn't exactly look new to me.

Hmmmm. I have several pairs of tatty old knickers lurking in the bottom of a drawer . . . . 
Make me an offer.

Maybe she could use this for her advertising campaign.

I can't decide whether this guy is a genius or a bit of a cunt.

But anybody messes with my Bikini is gonna be in for a shock.
And not in a good way.
Never mind, these dogs made me laugh.


The second one reminds me of the time I bought my (then about 2yrs old) niece some felt tip pens and forgot to tell my sister I had put them in her bag when she left my house. The next morning my sister found her sat in front of the mirror having coloured her entire face, even her eyelids, green.
For days afterwards people kept asking my sister if her daughter was ok as she 'didn't look too well'. She was fine, she just had a greenish tinge to her complexion.

I'm off, I have a hundred blog posts to read and about a thousand texts, emails and calls to reply to.
Yeah. I wish I was that popular.

I also wish I was getting this for Christmas.

Well someones gotta rub the suntan lotion on the bits I can't reach.

Tuesday, 22 November 2011

let me in

Have I mentioned that I'm going away for Christmas ?

Maybe just once or twice.

However, I have some advice for any of you that ever want to travel to India.
Get your Visa as soon as possible !

I'm ok, I have mine, but there has been an issue with one of them, and for the MOST ridiculous reason. There are nine of us going, one of whom is a four year old. The back story here is that although her Father was around when she was born and so his name is on her birth certificate, he and her Mother broke up soon after and he has not been seen since. His loss. Consequently there has never been any kind of custody hearing, but as far as anything of a legal nature goes ie Tax Credits, benefits and the like her Mother is officially a single parent.
She has been to India for the last three years with her Mum and there has never been an issue with her Visa before, they have just included a copy of her Tax Credit entitlement and a letter explaining the situation with the application.

We all began the Visa process online, then my friend went up to London to the Embassy and handed in all our passports and photos. The next day we got a phone call from them saying that they were all fine, apart from the little girls as they needed to see her full birth certificate. In the UK you can have a short version - which is absolutely fine when it comes to claiming benefits, opening a bank account etc but not apparently for the fucking Indian embassy, they want to see the full one.
Which not everyone gets anyway, as you have to pay.

But, whatever, if that's what they want.
The guy said he would send an email immediately after the call, checked the mail addy, and we could scan the birth certificate and attach it to a reply. So her Mum got in touch with the records office and ordered a full copy.
However we did not get that email.
As we are running out of time her Mum decided to take it up in person, so yet another trip to London.

A few days later she got a text saying the Visa was processed and would be arriving by courier the next day.
It never arrived.
At this point, assuming there had been a problem with the post, she decided to phone the Indian Embassy.
Let met tell you it would be easier to find the combination for the safe at the Bank of England then get their fucking phone number. The website tells you when to call but not where.
Eventually she rang the couriers that deliver them, and luckily they had the number.
Then we find out that a) it has not been posted, because b) they need more information, which is c) a court order stating that she has custody, or d) they want to see her fathers passport.

Again she explains the situation.
But no matter - the person she was speaking to just kept repeating "we need to see a court order". Eventually we can hear that she is starting to get angry, and realising that will get her nowhere tell her to get the number for the complaints dept and end the call.
I rang the complaints dept and explained the situation.
Ever get the impression that you are speaking to someone who either isn't listening or doesn't want to. They are like talking to a fucking stuck CD. I think they just learn three English phrases and are told to keep repeating which ever seems most likely to fit. Yeah fine English is not your native language, but you are working in a place that deals with non-Indian people who want to visit your country - which relies heavily on tourism - so for fuck sake at least make it SOUND like you want to help them get there.
I also pointed out that clearly one end of their organisation does not know what the other is doing - otherwise why was a text sent saying it was on it's way - when clearly it wasn't. Although in a way that was a good thing as we would not have known any of this unless we had called to try to find out where it was.

I was told to call back at the end of the day, which I did, only to be told - yet again - that they needed something from the court or a solicitor.
Exactly which part of we don't have one of them because we don't need one is that you are failing to grasp ?

There is a happy ending. Her Mum went and got a letter from a solicitor - which she had to pay for - and this was taken up (again to London) on Tuesday. Even this was not acceptable at first. In then end manipulation and lies were used, and they were told that her Father was a drug addict and if forced to contact him it would bring shame and distress to the child.
Apparently at this the guy dealing with it said he "would not want to bring shame on anyone's family".
Yesterday the Passport was returned with the Visa granted.

Which just proves the rules are NOT set in stone, and can be bent when they want to.

At first we could not understand why they made this so difficult, but we came to the conclusion that it's perhaps that India is a culture where single parents are probably not that common. So when they made their new rules they did not make allowances for every eventuality under which that can occur where you might have no contact and/or no desire to.

What if a childs Father had totally disappeared ? He might not even be in the country anymore.
What if the Father was dead ?
What about people who leave their partners because they are violent ?
What about kids who have no contact with a parent because of abuse ?

But they want our Tourist income. Even if that meant telling a child that her entire family are going on holiday and she is not allowed to come.
Do they want to be the ones to explain that to her ?

We gave them NINE Visa applications, and they processed all but one. Even though they can see that the one they refused belongs to a child whose parent they have just granted a Visa to.
Fucking idiots.
What's she gonna do ? Stay at home on her own.

And why has she suddenly been refused after three years of going. Apparently because they changed the rules. As my friend said to them "your rules might have changed but my circumstances have not".

However - there would've been none of this if her Fathers name was NOT on the birth certificate.
So, despite their family orientated culture, from the child's point of view it would be easier to get a Visa if she had the stigma of having no named Father rather then an absent one.

If they had not granted it then they would effectively be punishing a four year old for having a Father who is a waste of space with no interest in her.

If forced to find him and take him to court that could cause a whole load of emotional distress for both the child and her Mother.

When she was still a baby her Mother started a new relationship, and this is the man that the child looks upon as her Father. He treats her as his own and she calls him Dad. What would it do to a four year old - who although she knows he isn't her birth father, has this Man as a constant consistent reliable caring figure in her life - to suddenly have this other prick appear and be told THIS is actually your Dad.
Because he was given every opportunity to be in her life - he chose not to.
And rejection is hard enough to deal with as an adult, never mind when you're four.

And all because the Indian Embassy are refusing to let you into their country for a holiday unless you make contact with him.


Why does a child even need a tourist Visa anyway ? Especially when travelling with her family.
It's not like she's going to be looking for a job whilst we're there, even though her £40 Visa has ended up costing her Mum close to £250.

Although it's India, I suppose they think we might be sending her off to a sweat shop - or be planning to cut off her arm and send her out to beg.

Did I say that ? Oops. They might not let me in.

But again. . . TWO WEEKS !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Monday, 14 November 2011


I am cured.

I feel like I have been to rehab.

I deleted my Facebook.

It wasn't done with the intention of being permanent. The plan was to delete it for a while, then once people realised I had gone reactivate it and have a major cull of the fucking idiots people without them realising and getting offended and shitty about it.
Just keep it for close friends and family and people I actually like.
Not nosy cunts and perverts acquaintances who just want to look at the pictures. Or invite me to social events with people I can't fucking stand, and then even after I've said I have bubonic plague not attended the event I still see endless pictures of the drunk morons who did go on my page.
When I get back from my epic holiday I don't want them looking at my snaps - but I do want to share them with some people, and it's too sodding tedious picking who can and can't see albums.

And as amusing as I find certain people - the ones that have made an appearance or two here, it was getting really fucking annoying when every time I checked it I had a feed full of their inane drivel.

I guess my real friends will just have to go back to the old fashioned way of keeping in touch with me.

Like actually coming round for a coffee.
Or picking up the phone.
Do people still do that anymore ? Or do they just send you a virtual drink ?

I haven't missed it at all, in fact the only thing I have considered since - apart from never using it again - is that I will no longer have stuff from there to share on here.
And it does make for entertainment.

But then I was having a look at ebay - yeah I'm still trying to find a magic slimming, youth giving bikini - and I found some new entertainment.
I know all about the idea that one man's rubbish is another man's treasure, I've realised that from the utter crap that I've left outside my house only to find it gone in the morning.
But really.
Take a look . . . .

What the fuck is this ?

Apparently it's an old fashioned salt dispenser.
Really ?
That's not what it looks like to me.
FYI I was looking for Spice Racks.

How about getting some old fashioned Christmas pudding charms, I don't know about elsewhere in the world but traditionally in the UK you put them in the pudding for people to choke to death on find as they eat it.
When I was a child my Mum tried to kill us with used silver six pence pieces in ours, but originally the charms were used. I was looking for some to give to my sister, as I'm not going to be home at Christmas I'm making a little parcel up for her and I found this.

Happiness ?
And yeah I know that before the nazi's adopted it the swastika was in fact a lucky symbol, it still is in Indian culture, but this was MADE IN ENGLAND and it's old but not that old, and it's on sale on ebay NOW.
Hurry up and you could be the proud owner. Just make sure Grandad who fought in the war doesn't get the wrong piece of pudding.
He really will choke on it.
I guess you can always tell people the Germans got him in the end.

I have also been looking for some shorts for my holiday.
Search" shorts size 14 " and look what it found for me. . .

Should I get a pair of them for the beach ?

I found this next thing hilarious.
I'm not entirely sure if it's in the best taste, it might even be a bit inappropriate or offensive to some, but that's probably part of the appeal, for me anyway.

I'm gonna order one anyway. MLK is about to go where no man has gone for quite a while.

There is also an unbelievable amount of varieties of toilet roll on ebay. Quite literally any colour and design - not just the novelty crossword, sudoku and bank note ones that you see in most joke shops.
For English football fans here's a way to show the team what you really think of their performance.

And one for the Americans out there. . .

Hilary can go where no man has gone before.

And this just makes no sense.
How this person hopes to make a sale is beyond me.

Thank you ?
For what.
Not paying ONE HUNDRED AND FORTY NINE quid for something I don't even know if I want because you haven't even got a fucking picture.

It seem's that fuckwits don't just confine their activity to Facebook.

And that last line . . . "this is a stool". . . no prizes for guessing what that made me think about.

If I saw this hanging outside someone's house I think I'd walk away.
Especially if it was in Scotland.

I've also started using Twitter a bit more lately, there's a link on the right if you fancy joining me on there (and one for G+) - not that I've posted much myself I just follow other bloggers and stalk a couple of famous people.

But last night I went to log in and it showed me this. What the fuck ?

It's a fucking huge website.
How can it be 'over capacity' ? What does that even mean ?

Ah well, I just hope the idiots who stick all those boring crap status updates on Facebook every five minutes don't decide to join it. It will probably explode.