Tuesday, 31 May 2011

from the mouths of babes

The family where I work ( I am a personal assistant for man with a brain injury) have a granddaughter, Lily, who has just turned four.
She and her Mum still live at home, but as she only goes to school three mornings a week at the moment and her Mum goes to work, Lily and I get to spend a lot of time together. Her Grandad dotes on her so as much as I enjoy her company this has also helped me get to know him. He sometimes has days when he will have been up all night then sleeps all day and during these times I will usually be with Lily - we keep each other entertained and it means that her Grandma can do other things.

She has an amazing imagination - the kind of kid who can take a scrap of paper and pretend it’s anything she wants it to be.

But it's the things she says. Sometimes I'm not entirely sure they're as innocent as they seem . . . .
I have to share some Lily gems, they are too funny not to.

We all went out to a country pub for lunch. Lily wanted to sit next to me, but obviously can’t yet read.
Me “shall we look at the menu”
Lily “can you read it to me please”
Me “of course I can, just let me get my glasses”
Lily “why do you need glasses ? Is it because you’re old”

The day before bank holiday week-end. Her Grandma had just told me they were all going on a picnic to the forest the next day.
Lily “are you going to come on the picnic ?”
Me “no, it’s a holiday tomorrow so I won’t be here”
Lily “but whose going to look after me”
Me “well I’m not really here to look after you, I’m here to help Grandad if he needs it”
Lily “but you always play with me”
Me “that’s because you spend a lot of time with Grandad - so that means that I’m lucky enough to get to spend time with you too, and when Grandad‘s tired you keep me company”
Lily “well tell Grandad to go back to bed and we can play”

We were looking at a recipe book and pretending we were at a restaurant eating the food. We had some wooden bricks for the food and a plastic tennis racquet was the plate. Her Grandad was tidying the garden and asked me to bring him the broom, when I got back to the conservatory the ‘food’ was no longer on the floor.
Me “where has all the food gone ?”
Lily “I’ve eaten it “
Me “all of it ?”
Lily “yes and it was very very nice”
Me “well if you really have eaten all of it you’re gonna get very very fat”
Lily “yes I am, just like you”

A couple of days before her birthday her Mum and I were talking about her and Grandad, and we had said that sometimes watching the two of them together it was hard to work out who the grown up was.
We didn’t think she was listening.
Later in the day when her Uncle was there they were discussing the plan to surprise her with a trampoline for her present, he was going to stay with her the following day whilst her Mum and Grandma went to buy it.
Lily “Mummy why can’t I come with you and Grandma”
Her Mum “because we have to go and do grown up stuff”
Lily “but I’m as grown up as Grandad, you and Cowgirl said so” (LOL)
Her Mum “well we need you to stay here with Uncle”
Uncle “yeah Lily if you go out whose going to look after me”
Lily “Cowgirl”

I love her - she is equally cute and precocious, and never fails to make me laugh.

Sometimes when I’m joking she doesn’t get it at all, but then when I’m serious she fails to realise.
For instance today we were pretending to be going on an aeroplane.
She was the passenger.
I was the customs man at the airport (she made me pat her down and told me she didn’t have any ‘smokes’), the suitcase check-in lady (she had a bag full of toys), the stewardess ( she wanted to know where her food was), and the pilot.
When I needed to go to the toilet I told her I was putting the plane on autopilot for five minutes and to listen out for any funny noises.
Four times she called me back - the plane was making a ‘whoooo’ sound apparently. Each time I said I wasn’t pretending I really did need to go for a wee and every time she called me back.
I could still hear her shouting to me that the plane was about to crash when I was sat on the loo.

Her grandad has a lot of tattoos and is plannng to have one for her and his other grand-daughter. They were talking about this and he was explaining that he wanted to have one with both their names in it, but designed in a way that there was room for other names if more grandchildren came along.
Lily wanted to know where he was going to put my name.

She cracks me up every day.
Yup - I love my job.

who are you ?

When you’re alone or at your happiest, saddest, most vulnerable, when no-one is looking and you can take off whichever mask you’ve had to wear for the day do you like yourself.
Are you happy in your own company.
Can you bear the silence of solitude or do you need to fill the void.

I’ve always liked to spend time by myself. Probably because as a kid I was never allowed to have any.
But I know a lot of people just don’t understand that, a few friends have asked me if I feel lonely now that I’m living on my own and I can honestly say no I don’t. Some have said that I must come for dinner or that they will come and see me. Why ?
If I haven’t seen you for months why would you suddenly assume I want to see you now just because the boy moved out. I know they’re being kind, but I’m not someone who has to see her friends every day, to me the definition of a true friend is someone who you might not see for months but when you do its like you were together yesterday.
And the people that matter to me know that however long since we’ve seen each other if they really needed me, or if there was an emergency I’d be there.

Of course having had yet another fucking stupid argument with your pathetic loser boyfriend that you have no intention of dumping does not qualify as an emergency for which I will answer my phone at 4am.
Thank fuck for caller ID.

Don’t misunderstand me, I love my friends, but I don’t seem to need them or their company as much as they seem to need mine. I’ve always been someone that people turn to in a crisis, and when they do I’m a voice of reason or a shoulder to lean on for as long as they need it.
But there will always come a point when I just want to tell them to fucking sort it out.

And if I’m the one having a crisis or upset I like to be left alone to figure it out and get over it.

Sometimes I wonder if I’m not just a bit autistic.
People do tend to get on my nerves.
People watching however is a whole different matter - I love to do that.

I get that everybody needs some degree of reassurance, validation or approval from other people.
But to me it’s just as important to have the confidence to judge yourself honestly and measure your self worth. If it’s based solely upon the opinions of others or about how you look rather then how you feel you could be in trouble.
Or a narcissist.
Especially if those people on whom you base your esteem never see you without the mask. Who wants to spend their whole lives worrying about what other people think, and pretending to be something you’re not.
Not me that’s for sure.

He was a lovely fella really . . .
Everyone puts on an act at some point. It might be for an entirely acceptable reason like an interview or meeting a partners family for the first time, but sometimes it’s because we are guilty of something that we need to cover for.
Often in interviews with friends and relatives of criminals they will say they had no clue because he or she was such a lovely person, and they will be genuinely shocked when the patio gets dug up or they see the wife of their esteemed relative covered in bruises.

In those circumstances you gotta wonder which is the real person. Strip away their masks and there’s something not very nice underneath.

He knows the awful truth.
How some people manage to live two or more entirely separate lives is beyond me. And often when that’s the case there’s deceit involved, although if you’re the person with three partners thinking you’re not gonna get found out then the person you’re deceiving the most is probably yourself.

And if you get a call asking you to appear on Maury’s show then be afraid.

Your mask isn’t gonna save you from a lie detector.

Of course we all have different facets to our lives, and it’s perfectly normal to be a different person at work to who we are with our family and friends. In most of my previous work roles I would have a professional persona for dealing with social workers and funders that was very different to the person I was when I was taking the kids for a trip to the zoo or running a youth club.

And then there's the version of me I turn into after a few tequilas. Which is one of the reasons I avoided work socials.

But when I get home at night and shut the door that’s when I'm really me.
And I like spending time with me.
I think I’m fucking great.

Well if you don’t love yourself how can you expect anyone else to ?
You got to be comfortable in your skin and never forget who you really are.

Monday, 30 May 2011

about me quiz

I have seen this quiz on a few fellow bloggers pages.
Regular readers probably already know some of this, and some of it is in my about me page but I quite like repeating myself anyway.
If you have time copy and paste and do it too. . . .  :)

Yup, a wartime comic strip character, apparently she was rather risque for the time as she ususally ended up in her underwear. Thanks Dad. You set me up.

The day after my son left to work abroad. I was making dinner and realised I had made enough for him too, from now on shepherds pie is known as emotional pie in my house.

Yeah, it's quite loopy - just like me.

Urghhh - just makes me think of spam. I'd rather have a mature cheddar cheese.

Yup. One grown up son. He'll be 25 on Thursday.

Hell no ! I know what a bitch I am. Unless I was a fit fella, then I'd fuck me.

One sister - four years younger.

Yeah, as a kid I was always getting tonsilitis and I was supposed to have them removed, but some horrible kid who lived on our street told me a horror story about getting his removed so I refused to get it done.

NO !! Don't like heights, but I've skydived from 14000 feet.

Never eat them, they're all disgusting.

Depends what shoes - trainers yeah, but I rarely wear them. Most days I'm in flip flops or Uggs.

Yeah, mentally very - physically, kind of.

I don't really eat it, but I like it on hot deserts and then I have really plain vanilla.

Varies - if they have some kind of affliction, like being boss eyed or a big spot then that, or equally if there is something really outstanding like beautiful eyes. But there isn't any one thing really, although if it's a fit fella I look at their hands (it's an indication . . . ) and their arse.
I take people as they come - I don't make judgements based upon appearance. . . . well not much. But I do pay a lot of attention to body language.


Nothing - I'm fucking perfect.
People who know me though would probably say I'm too loud.

My son. But he's back for a week on Weds - gimme two days and I'll be moaning about the mess and xbox games all over the floor.


No, I could never choose. That's like asking me to pick a favourite family member.

Indian. And hot.

If I really have to choose one, but I like most kinds of music.

Why would I be a crayon ? I'd rather be the marker pen used to graff up the walls.

Gucci perfume (original brown) and new leather. Preferably when I'm wearing them.

My son.

Beach House.

Boxing. It's the only sport I watch.

Dark brown. Currently with a few aubergine streaks.


No, I cant even put mascara on without stabbing myself in the eye. I'd blind myself if I tried to use them.

My Nans engagement ring and my Mums eternity ring. I wear them together and never take them off.

Scary movies. The sicker the better.

A Serbian Movie. Yup - very sick indeed.

Uggs. And corsets. Though not together. Unless you ask nicely.


I prefer a shag.

Anything citrus.



Room Full of Mirrors - Jimi Hendrix biography.

My finger - I use a laptop.

Failing that the sound of the sea.

Stones. Wild Horses is one of my favorite songs.

BMW 630i Convertable.

Ahem ! Not telling you lot about that.

Portsmouth, England.

Same as. Left when I was younger but came back when my boy was little.


Winning the lottery would I'm sure. Just not done that yet.
So for now I'll make do with my family and friends. Plan to fuck em off when I'm a milllionaire though.
Just don't tell them I said that in case one of them wins first.

Go to school !! Bunking off and going to the beach is all well and good but later on you're gonna want to go to college and they wont let you in because of your abysmal exam results.
Also - when you are 14 you will meet a lad called Steve - DON'T DO IT.

Update : gotta share THIS, and not because it mentions me but because of all the copies of this questionaire I've seen it is by far the funniest.

Vagina Sticks Out

Sunday, 29 May 2011

important announcement

Bugger me !!!

While I was in the shower (yeah, I can't be dirty ALL the time ) it appears my little slice of cyberspace has reached a milestone.


Fucking hell - who woulda thought ?

Well actually I've had 99 for a few days now so I knew it was only a matter of time, didn't really need to be a genius to work that out did I ? Even with my shit skills at maths. I had in fact planned on giving a special prize to the lucky person.

Unfortunately due to the glitch in the followers gadget I cannot see who you are so I do not know if you are male or female to give the appropriate reward.

I'm therefore gonna give you both - who knows you might appreciate them equally.

Welcome to my blog and may I present to you A Pair Of Boobies and A Fabulous Cock.

If you joined this blog tonight then yeah THIS IS FOR YOU !!!
Whoever you are.

Update : The followers gadget came back, Memory Fiend (interesting name) this is for you :)

Saturday, 28 May 2011

pride and joy

That is just wrong.
How much do you care about your blog ?
I mean really care. Last night I was talking to a friend about mine and I realised that I actually feel quite maternal towards it.

And no, this isn’t some strange side effect of my current empty nest. Were I really suffering from that my cats would probably be dressed in baby clothes.
FYI they’re not.
I like my arms the way they are ie not covered in scratches.

In fact the side effect of Son leaving has been some rather bizarre dreams in which I am pregnant and in perilous situations needing to protect my bump. The other night I found myself about 8 months gone and in what appeared to be a seventies cop show shoot out.
Hmm . . . . It doesn’t take a degree in psychology to analyse that. The umbilical cord has been well and truly severed.

But anyway, last night. My mate thought I should’ve been offended by the review mentioned in the previous post. He said if he had put work into something that someone else then slated he wouldn’t be happy and he couldn’t understand why I wasn’t bothered.
I only showed him for a laugh and the silly twat got all defensive of me. Bless.

I said it’s all rather subjective, I’ve seen plenty of blogs that I don’t like. I never really thought anyone other then the few personal friends who know about it would read mine but here I am with my very own flock.
Just call me Bo-Peep.
Nah, scrap that - she lost hers.
If any of you lot leave me I will hunt you down like a motherfucker.

You can run but you cant hide.

But it was talking about that, and the fact that my words are now read by people all over the world and how pleased I am about that, that led me to realise that this blog is in fact, my baby.

If I don’t post here for a few days does that make me guilty of neglect. And if there are other bloggers who feel the same about theirs maybe it’s time we had Blog Protection Laws - what constitutes blog abuse ? Can you bully a blog ?
Is making a back up of your blog like getting your kid inoculated against mumps and measles.

And will my blog eventually grow up, develop a mind of it’s own and fuck off and leave me.

I find those people who post ‘follow me’ threads in forums quite sad, I like the fact that the people who do follow me did so because they read it and wanted to see more. But I can understand that it must be quite disheartening to think that of all the many thousands of people who now belong to blogger there is nobody who wants to read yours.
I suppose it depends why you blog really.
And the size of your ego.
I’ve never had a problem with self confidence, and I don’t need the approval of other people to validate myself. Of course it’s nice to be appreciated but I wouldn’t lose any sleep if no-one liked my baby. As long as Mummy loves you you’re ok.

I guess the blogs with no followers are the internet equivalent of the kid with nits and a snotty nose that nobody wants to play with.
There are a few I follow that have readers in the thousands, that takes some doing - and talent.
Well unless you want to fill your page with porn pics. Yeah those blogs (which I stumbled on purely by accident you understand - goddam next button ) often have tens of thousands of followers. And no doubt just as many anonymous ones.
I’d never do that - it’d be like sexually abusing it.

The blogger awards are nice too. I appreciate the ones I’ve received, but it got a bit silly for a while - there were a few that seemed to be going around given with instructions to pass to a set number of other people. Great. But it occurred to me that if everyone had one they lost their value. I see the same thing happening in the TCS forum with the Blogger Addict title for level 10s. When I first joined just a few longstanding members had them.
Now it’s like attending the end of term presentation, swelling with pride because your child’s won an award only to find that every kid got the same certificate.

So proud . . . . . .

I see the same thing happening with the levels in the blogger forums.
The point of levels was supposed to be an indication of length of time spent there and knowledge for the help forums, but there are a few stupid kids who use these ridiculous ‘game’ threads to level up very quickly.
Fucking idiots seem to think it’s a computer game.
It took me months to get to level 10 and earn my "blogger addict" title, not that it was any concern to me - I just enjoyed chatting with the people there - but the title means nothing when people are getting it after a couple of weeks. Ironic that they all strive to achieve something that meant little anyway, but has even less value now because they all did just that.
I wonder if any of them will read this ?

Hope so - then they’ll fuck off and not bother coming here again.

My precious child does not want to play computer games and be influenced by the 'special' kids.
Given that it’s the product of my grey matter it’s got enough to contend with.

I keep seeing people posting that they are having problems with gadgets and commenting - guess their babies are sick. It’s the same in any playground when a virus goes round, everyone gets sick sooner or later.
I’m sure Dr Google will find a cure.

My baby has been backed up and protected.
And now I realise how much it means to me I’ll smash your face in if you hurt it.

Who's the father ?

Monday, 23 May 2011

mum's gone to iceland


So we have yet another volcanic ash cloud threatening the airspace.
Fuck. Right. Off.

Son has decided to come home for a week for his birthday and has a flight booked for next Wednesday. Could be worse I suppose, at least I wasn't doing as originally planned and going out there. Yeah - you don't want to be messing with my holiday plans.
An angry volcano's got nothing on me when there's steam coming out my ears.

That would give a whole new meaning to the phrase 'Mums gone to Iceland'. And she's not buying fish fingers. I'd go and throw angry spit at the sodding volcano, that ought to put it out.
Except how am I gonna get there ?

Don't think the number 17 bus goes that far.

 I can't see a volcano . . . it's all a big conspiracy to stop me buying chips.

Ah well, apparently it's not as bad as last time this happened. According to the news I've just watched this time it's the 'Right Kind Of Ash'. . . as opposed to what ? There's a fucking great volcano threatening to erupt and vomit molten lava but it's ok as long as it's not the wrong kind of ash.

That wouldn't make me feel any better if I lived close to one.

I wonder if the conspiracy theories will start again. My favourite one the last time was that there was an alien mothership up there that the government didn't want anyone to see.
Yeah of course there was, volcanic ash isn't going to interfere with their technology is it.
If it's a sign of anything I reckon it's all about the shift in the planet that's causing earthquakes and tsunamis, but if that is the case then my limited knowledge of geology makes me think the earth is just releasing pressure a different way.
Not sure if that's a good thing in terms of the bigger picture.
Rapturous Volcanoes maybe ? Hahaaa.

Anyway I hope it's all sorted by next week, I've missed my boy and I can't wait to see him.

And there's a months worth of washing up needs doing.

Fuck Off.

Saturday, 21 May 2011

who do you love

Yesterday I finally got round to watching a TV documentary I had recorded about a couple in America and their family. They have two adopted sons (from a previous relationship of one of them) and a baby that is their own. The programme was about their struggles having moved from a small close community to a new city, their wider families, children, and the fact that they had decided to have another baby.

What was unusual about them was that although they considered themselves to be a gay male couple both had begun life as females. One had undergone full gender reassignment surgery but the other had not and so was able to have their child naturally.
They were able to marry because only one of them had full surgery so legally they were a man and a woman.
It got me wondering what if the other person decided to have genital surgery ?

Would they then be forced to divorce or their marriage be annulled ?
That doesn’t seem right to me.

These people clearly loved each other, they were raising three children and planning another. The adopted sons would’ve been taken into care if they hadn’t stepped up for them as their mother was unable to look after them properly. One of the boys was autistic and anyone who knows anything about that will realise that these two took on more then a lot of people would voluntarily cope with.

So why should it matter what gender they are.
Surely the important thing is being a good parent.
And clearly they were.

In the UK same sex couples can have a Civil Ceremony.
Why the fuck can’t they call it a marriage ?
Probably because it offends the fucking church.
At least they are allowed to have their partnership recognised and I suppose that’s progress, but I guess if you’re in the USA the laws must be different depending upon which state you live in.
I once watched a programme about a part of America where you can legally marry your horse. And no, not Jerry Springer - this was a serious documentary.

Although I recently saw an episode of that about a brother and sister who were openly living as a couple and planning to marry and have kids.
Now that IS wrong - and surely must be against the law. It is here.
Unless you want kids with three eyes and twelve fingers.

I realise that my knowledge here is rather limited.
I should probably go and Google all this before spouting off, but from the little I do know it does seem to me that the law is rather vague, and acceptance is often a matter of geography whatever your preference for a partner or yourself. If not everywhere will allow you to be legally recognised as your chosen gender if that happens to be different to the way you were born, if you’re born male but change to female are you still unable to marry a man or vice versa ?
Or do you have to have a civil ceremony - even though you and your partner are different sexes.

It must be confusing enough having to live life different to how you feel you are inside, but it would seem that correcting a mistake of nature sometimes then creates a whole new set of problems aside from any prejudice.

Personally I disagree with labelling people - whatever that’s for. Be it gender, sexuality, nationality, disability, whatever - the problem with giving someone a label is that people then think of them in terms of the stereotype associated with it.
I have a friend who although openly gay is not at all camp. There is absolutely nothing about him that gives it away, if you have a gaydar he‘ll break it, he has been accused of not being ‘a proper gay’. Wtf ? Just because he just doesn’t fit the stereotype for a gay man. What clever cunt decided what that should be anyway.

Seriously, in a world that is finally recognising that the complexities of human sexuality go way beyond gay and straight, and that there is more to gender then male and female, surely those labels are becoming less relevant then ever.

I think it’s about time that we were all just thought of as people.
And allowed to marry whoever we choose to love.

As long as we don’t share parents and have less then four legs.

Friday, 20 May 2011

i call these people friends...?

But first this weeks award for most annoying fuckwits.

Charity collectors who have knocked my door three times this week. And every time just as I am eating dinner. Christian Aid, Cancer Research and Save the Children all you're getting from me is a big fat mouthful...and not in a good way. I'm gonna stick a sign on the front door that says FUCK OFF !!!

So anyway, since I've been back at work I've hardly looked at facebook, it has occured to me to delete it - just so people stop sending me messages and stuff that I'm not likely to see. Maybe they could use the old fashioned way and send me a message on my phone, but I do have a few friends and family members on there that I really don't have time to see in the real world so I changed my mind and decided to keep it.

And of course I can stalk son and his new life abroad.

I admit that during my extended time off work I did pass a fair amount of time on facebook, mostly chatting to people - I was never one for posting nonsense or playing fucking stupid games. If I want a cafe or a zoo or a farm I'll go visit a real one, and I'm not remotely interested in your Mafia. If you want to give me a cake I expect to be able to eat it - what use are virtual calories when you got curves to maintain ? And unless I can laugh at the monkeys I don't see the point in having a zoo. The only good thing I can see about it is virtual shit probably doesn't stink.

But as today is a friends birthday and I wanted to message them (yeah, I know, I'm a fucking hypocite) I decided to log in an hour ago and saw the following in my newsfeed.

And I thought my life was exciting.

Well maybe if you tried counting sheep instead of facebook friends ? And why tell facebook, try temazipan. Still I suppose if I was having trouble sleeping I could just read your page.
Surely you should have your eyes on the road not your phone ? Waiting for next update "crashed car and broke my leg bring grapes". This just gives a whole new meaning to the term stupid, not just breaking the law but broadcasting it.

So who do you think is gonna be awake to see this - never mind care ? FYI they didn't have a good day, there was another post about breakfast an hour later (wtf), followed by more - unless a 'good day' is one where you post 35 crap status updates.

Are you trying to tell us you're dirty ?

Unless you choked on them I don't wanna know.

How do you manage your busy life ? Must be exhausting.
Seriously people, what makes them think anyone is interested.

And this . . . . just makes me want to never look at Facebook ever again.

Never mind cut your bunions off I'm hoping someone cuts your internet connection.

Am I missing much ? Am I fuck.
Do I really want to keep in touch with these people ?

Maybe not.

And who in their right mind likes these things ? Don't they realise it's just gonna encourage them.

Wednesday, 18 May 2011

a poem what i wrote . . . .

. . . . whilst sat on the train coming home from work.
As it passed over the creek I saw a family of ducks swim under the bridge and this came into my head.
Fucking poet laureate me !

Right now I wish I was a duck
Just paddling along
Not giving a fuck
About rent and bills
Yeah that's a winner
But knowing my luck
I'd be someones dinner

Should I start one of them poetry blogs ?

Saturday, 14 May 2011

jesus loves you . . . .

. . . . . .and he clearly wants you to enjoy yourself and each other.

You gotta wonder if the people who made these are really that innocent that they didn't know how they could be interpreted.
Too good not to share.
Plus I'm feeling far to lazy to write a proper post tonight.
Found on a website that a friend facebooked me a link to, not sure about copyright as couldn't see anything so I've linked the original article at the bottom.


Who would've thought ?

Must be a catholic church.

But it's clearly torture for left handed people.

Me too . . . . on both counts.

Does it mention rimming in the bible ?

All that money wasted on KY. . . who knew ?

Depends which entrance you use.

Peter who ? Had Tom, Dick and Harry but no Peter . . ah well, doomed.

Just not too quickly eh.

I prefer doggy myself.

But be mindful of blisters.

Original post.http://www.someecards.com/2011/04/12/unintentionally-sexual-church-signs

buyer beware

I might of mentioned this before but I fucking love online shopping.

I have no patience for spending hours wandering round shops. I tend to forget what I went for and end up wanting to punch slow walking people and dumb or pushy shop assistants.
Online I can be in ten shops at the same time and I don't have to queue at the checkout or wait half an hour for a fucking bus in the rain.
Sometimes I'll want to buy something and I have a picture in my head of exactly what I want. If I went out to the shops there's no guarantee I'm gonna find it anyway but on the computer I usually can. So as I recently decorated my front room and decided to look for a nest of tables of course I searched my favourite internet shops.

As luck would have it I found the perfect set on ebay.
They were in a 99p start auction with free post, but the day I found them still had a good few days to run. So I marked them to watch - the day the auction ended there were still no bidders.
I thought I was gonna get very lucky - I'd seen others in 'buy it now' and on other sites but the cheapest had been about £40, and all of them had a delivery charge.
Gets to the day of the auction and before I place my amazing bargains winning bid I decide to read all the page - only because I know they are heavy and I can't quite believe they are free post.
So I read down the page and it says

"Dolls House Furniture"

Spose I could've pretended I lived in a really big house and they were far away.
Or invited midgets round for coffee.

sticks and stones

"Sticks and stones may break my bones
But names will never hurt me"


There have been times when words have hurt me.
My tongue can deliver a verbal punch with the right provocation - or sometimes just because I'm a cunt and I can. I'm well aware that I can do far more damage with my mouth then I ever could with my fists.
Although nothing beats a well placed brick for instant damage, physical injuries will heal but words that hit the right (or wrong) nerve can stay with you for a very long time.

I've seen plenty of arguments in internet chat rooms and forums, often it's people just resorting to swearing and hurling insults at each other but sometimes that shit can get really nasty. People tend to open up to strangers about secrets they might keep from real world friends, or blog about truly personal stuff, and if your online opponent is aware then that might get brought into the fight.

I saw an example of this the other night, no doubt some of you reading will know which incident I'm talking about. It's not for me to comment on who was right or wrong, it just got me thinking about one of the rules I used to apply when working with kids in regard to sharing personal information.
Divulge as little or as much as you feel comfortable to say - but you should always be aware that anything you tell them might get thrown back in your face.
Being armed with the facts can hurt more then a kick in the bollocks.

One of the staff I worked with had a son who was in hospital and he told the boys in the home, to explain why he seemed a bit offsorts and needed to keep his personal phone on him at all times. The first time he pissed one of the lads off after that the boy said " I hope your fucking kid dies".
The impact of that was awful, obviously the recipient could not retaliate in the situation but he said if that was someone other then a kid at work he would've punched them.

I doubt very much whether any of the people involved in the forum incident were affected to any extent by what was said, they're all adults and familiar with what happens there. I would not be surprised to hear that they were now laughing about it, or at each other since all of them no doubt realise that it's just the internet, words on a screen, and unimportant.

Some people, myself included, quite enjoy the banter, piss taking and debate - even when things get heated. But I can give as good as I get.
I have encountered people that I dislike in forums, but as long as they leave me alone I'll ignore them. I find it easy, but then I realise that although things they say might grate on me for whatever reason IT'S JUST THE  FUCKING INTERNET.

Not the case for everyone.
There are some pretty vulnerable people out there who will take things said online very much to heart. Sometimes those who for whatever reason find it hard to integrate and socialise in the real world think they have found an outlet for their feelings and see the 'friendships' they make online as being very real.
I'm not saying that friendships forged online are fake, I have made a few good friends myself and I absolutely intend to meet up with some of them. But I am an adult (sort of) with common sense, in control of my emotions and issues, and even though I spend a fair bit of time online I also have a good life and friends in the real world.
The internet is my escape from reality not my window into it.

If you bare your soul and vulnerabilities in a public forum to find support you also lay yourself open to abuse, and the very people who seem to need and rely on the internet the most can easily become victims.
Some people should probably stay away from chat forums for the sake of their own sanity. Of course they won't - they think their needs are being met, and I suppose to some degree they are, but in many ways it is kind of fake. That's fine as long as you recognise that, but when it is your only social outlet or your means of seeking help for your lost soul then I think you're asking for trouble and likely gonna get it.

Controversy lovers can spot weakness a mile off, even in cyber space, and attention seekers are usually fair game too. And if someone is the type who will get easily hurt and upset by something said it won't matter how many people jump to their defence the damage will of been done.

If you get into a disagreement, attract the attention of a troll or just can't handle negativity then your cyber house of cards is liable to come crashing down, and if you have no real world support network where does that leave you ?
Crying into your keyboard.
And electrocuting yourself.

Of course the nerd who couldn't fight his way out of a paper bag in real life might just find himself in the position of power when it comes to an online war of words.
Intelligence, the ability to string a coherent sentence together, and the knack of insulting someone in a clever humorous way might not be any use in the playground against the school bully but when your weapon is the written word it put's you at an advantage.

In a cyber playground the bullies are still there.

Some people might hide behind a screen but others expose themselves too much. A lot of people find chatting online and blogging about personal things very cathartic.

But not all of them are able to cope with the consequences.

Tuesday, 10 May 2011

chocolate treats

I have just been reminded about this so in the interests of sharing . . . . . .

A while ago I was having another a rare lazy slobby day.
In my world that means not getting up all day til 4pm, eating chocolate healthy snacks and reading a book chatting to people on the laptop.
Amongst the delicacies I had indulged in was a big bag of Cadburys giant chocolate buttons.

I was wearing tracky bottoms and a vest-top with a built in bra. The top, although not indecent doesn't really contain the jamoonas so they get a bit squished in.
Not so much square pegs in a round hole more jelly in an egg cup - bound to be some spillage.

Imagine this, but longer
and with tits . . . nice.
I smoked my last cigarette then realised I also needed milk so tied my hair up, (if I don't comb it I look like a long haired Russell Brand Indian Princess - takes me half an hour to brush it so why bother just for that ?) stuck a pair of Uggs and a hoody on, grabbed my purse and keys and without going anywhere near a mirror went to the shop, which is literally at the top of my road.

Very convenient but does mean that most of the people that work there kind of know me - I'm in that shop most days and two of the staff live on my street.

I did notice a few people giving me odd looks in the shop, but I just gave em filthy looks smiled sweetly back.
Ok I had hair that looked like I'd literally been dragged though a tree bush and most likely looked like I was wearing my PJs at 4pm but I don't fucking care.
I don't pay a lot of attention to my appearance at the best of times (unless I'm getting lucky), never mind if I'm just making a trip up the shop so why the fuck should anyone else.
Well clearly not.

I walk back, passed one of the few neighbors that tolerates me I like and stopped to say hello then came indoors. Got a coffee then went back up to my bedroom, went to take the hoody off and realised that the zip had come half undone, looked at myself in the mirror and in my cleavage was a melted chocolate button.

These + warm cleavage = ew !!
It looked like shit.

I was 'inspired' to write this ( well reminded of the faux pas) by a post I read on Gratuitous Violets blog, check her out  - she's a new find for me and totally hilarious.

Saturday, 7 May 2011

just one man

So Bin Laden is dead.

Well unless you believe the conspiracy theories that have inevitably begun to go around. As far as that goes I have no comment, what I am wondering is if it is true does it really make the world a safer place ?

I can understand people who feel it is vindication for 9/11. The pilots of the planes are of course dead (and presumably there are a few less virgins in heaven as a result), but the amount of planning and co-ordination required to undertake the attack must of involved many people.

Even if it was in fact Bin Laden who thought up the idea in the first instance he alone was not responsible for everything that happened on that day.

As an act of terrorism it was the ultimate.
And whilst I want to make it absolutely clear that I in no way condone the atrocity that happened on that day, in terms of striking America where it would hurt the most and having maximum impact it was genius.
Evil, warped, sadistic, horrific genius - but genius all the same.
Even the date - if you live in the USA what number do you dial for the emergency services.
No doubt that date was chosen with the idea that from then on every time a US citizen rang it they would be reminded of that awful day.

And lets not forget that Al Qaeda are thought to be responsible for the July 7 bombings here in London. This was nothing like as devastating as what happened in New York but killed 56 people and left 700 injured.
And struck right at the heart of the capital.

Was one man really capable of thinking up and planning all that ?

My concern is that Bin Ladens followers will now be seeking revenge for his killing and the evil genius minds that went to work on 9/11 are possibly still at large. His death may well send out the message that terrorism will not be tolerated and that there is ultimately no place to hide for the perpetrators, but given the fanaticism of his followers and their belief that death is not to be feared I am worried.

Although this same person apparently hid behind a woman when he realised that ultimate justice was about to be served.
That made me laugh - the man who sent his followers to die in the ultimate act of sacrifice and supposed martyrdom trying to shield himself from a bullet with his wife.

The world can increase security measures and military intelligence become ever more sophisticated, and in doing so we may ensure that nothing like 9/11 can ever happen again, but what if they were to get their hands on a nuclear weapon.
The thought of retaliation would not worry them - a deterrent is of no use if your opponent does not fear the consequences.

I am also slightly irritated by the way a lot of news coverage is taking the line that Obama killed Osama.
Really ?
At what point in the military operation was his life at risk ? He might’ve been the one who gave the green light but according to everything I’ve seen he was sat in a nice safe office at the time.
Just as I don’t believe one man was solely responsible for 9/11, nor do I think one man should take the credit for his death and I wonder if in taking onus for it and revelling in the glory of this triumph for America, has Obama actually just moved himself to the top of Al Qaeda’s most wanted.

I suppose he is happy to take credit, given that my understanding is he was looking unlikely to be re-elected and the death of Bin Laden is a cause for celebration for American citizens. Just as they will never forget what was done to their country so they will admire and respect the person who finally brought retribution to the man thought to be responsible.
How about electing the soldier who pulled the trigger ? Surely he or she is far more worthy of that honour then the politician who really just inherited someone else’s problems when he moved into office.

In fact I thought that one of the reasons Obama was elected to power was his promise to remove US troops from Afghanistan when he in fact sent more. I had said at the time that he was running that I thought the comparisons being made between him and Martin Luther King might prove to be wrong.
He sounded more like Malcom X to me.

My hope was that it was not another case of what I called Maggie Thatcher syndrome.
When she was elected prime minister over here there was a general feeling throughout the country that having her in charge of our government would bring about good changes - because she was a woman.
My impression was that America felt the same about Obama, because he was to be the first black president as she was our first female PM, a representation of hope for a better brighter future and change for the good.

But what she was, firstly and foremostly was a politician.
The contents of Maggie’s underwear bore no relation to how she ran this country.
She refused to impose sanctions on apartheid south Africa when the world was up in arms about what was happening there.
She pretty much took away the power of unions in this country that protected workers.
A lot of people say that she did a good thing when she brought in a system that allowed people to buy their local authority owned housing, but as a result of that we now have a housing crisis here.
The yuppie generation, which she was largely responsible for crashed and burned.
She earned the nickname The Iron Lady.
And not because she was great with domestic appliances.

I have to be honest and say that I have very little understanding of or interest in politics. My opinion is really that they are all as bad as each other. As I see it most election campaigns here consist of empty promises and telling us how bad the opposing parties are and I suspect it’s the same across the pond.
But most acts of terrorism in the world are the result of religious differences and carried out in the name of whatever god the perpetrators follow.
And that has little or nothing to do with politics.

The death of one man may be seen as a step towards making the world a safer place. It may be a triumph for America and some closure for victims, survivors and their families.
But the war on terrorism is a long way from over, if it ever really will be.
As long as there are religious fanatics, crazy dictators, warmongers and people willing to buy into whatever nonsense they spout the world will never be truly free from terrorism. You might kill the man but you cannot kill what he stood for or represented to his followers, you might in fact just fan the flames of their beliefs.

That thought worries me.

"I mourn the loss of thousands of precious lives, but I will not rejoice in the death of one, not even an enemy. Returning hate for hate multiplies hate, adding deeper darkness to a night already devoid of stars. Darkness cannot drive out darkness: only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate: only love can do that."
Martin Luther King, Jr

Apparently the after life isn't that great after all.

Monday, 2 May 2011


Enough with the fucking moping.

I’m starting to get on my own nerves now.
I don’t suppose I’ve finished with the being sad fiasco, and I don’t think it’s entirely sunk in yet but enough is enough. And whilst I may be feeling low I know that Son is going to have the time of the life, and I also know people who are going through some really tough times.
Yeah get some perspective Cowgirl.

The local stony outcrop - lush - not.
So lets look on the positive.

I have a very good reason to spend occasional week-ends in Spain, where it is always going to be hotter then here and the beach is sandy.
We have what is referred to as a beach here, but a more accurate description would be a big pile of stones until the tide goes out, then there's sand but covered in slimy seaweed and in close proximity to a sewerage outlet.

A lodger can move in and pay rent that he won't want to borrow back to go the pub.

Well just as soon as I’ve finished sorting out the still ongoing pile of crap, went through two boxes of old paperwork today. The recycle bin now contains half a fucking rain forest.

And then I have to find said lodger of course.
Am thinking about placing an advert in the paper.

This ought to do the trick.
I am no longer going to be woken up by drumming practise when I am hungover and suffering, I can go to the loo in the ad break during Desperate Housewives and zombies will not invade my giant plasma while I am away, any mess will only be that which I make.

Mind you that’s a fucking lot.
I might get a cleaner as well as a lodger because once I cheer up properly and normal service is resumed so will the piles of crap and dust that resembles nuclear fallout.

I might add that I'd accept a young male cleaner too . . . .
In fact this isn’t the first time Son has left home.

Last time I didn’t even really notice - he went to live with Crazy Psycho Bitch - but was just around the corner, and I was living with The Worst Mistake I Ever Made.
(Now there’s a post I ought to write).
But his leaving was gradual - couple of nights there a week that just progressed to being there all the time.
Soon after he left I got rid of TWMIEM, I loved living on my own then so I'm sure I will again.

In fact I was a bit disappointed when he came back.
Especially as I thought at least CPB had domesticated him - well she did, but he forgot all about it as soon as he was back here.
I was glad he left her but even so pick your fucking smelly socks up.

Although I have warned him - they say every woman looks for traits of her father in her ideal man and every man looks for traits of his mother in his ideal woman.

Poor Son - if that’s the case then crazy women are his destiny.
I just hope the next one’s rich and lives in a huge house in Spain with a granny annex.

My early retirement home.

Fingers crossed :)