My Eyes Are Dull

Hahahah this made me laugh a lot. I was thinking that my eyes aren't as bright an twinkly looking as they should be so I typed "my eyes are dull" into google thinking it would lead me to some health food sites telling me which vitamins are good for sparkly eyes. Instead I found this. Seemingly Catholics all round the world are right and masturbation is bad for you.

Rat Bite Fever

This whole week I've been unable to finish anything that I've started to write. I've just deleted a post about Pepe biting me this morning. But then I realised that all I really needed to say was; Pepe broke out, I tried to catch her, she bit me pretty badly, I was cross but now I feel sorry for her. There was also the email that never got sent and the letter I wrote to my friend that I gave up on. I will write to my friend but I'll start a new letter. And I will send that email, when the time is right.

Today was a mixture of loveliness, annoyance (rat bite), physical activity, and paranoia (will I get rat bite fever?). I had a lovely time with Miss Martha pushing her about in her car and looking through the box of farm animal figurines. There's a figurine of a woman in dungarees carrying a bucket of eggs who Martha liked to call 'Mummy' and there's another woman, dressed in a blue mini skirt and knee high black boots and she was, naturally, christened 'Ha'. God knows why though because Martha has never, and will never, see me dressed in a blue mini skirt and knee high black boots.

Big Guns

Rocky Minding Pepe, a photo by hootchinhannah on Flickr.

Between the heavy presence of police out to deal with the bomb scare on Wednesday, and the meeting of a seriously massive body builder you could say that I've seen a lot of big guns this week.

There's Rocky minding Pepe there and he too, like his namesake, has big guns. Though they're mostly fatty guns as opposed to muscly guns. I was looking online to see if I can get them harnesses and leads. Jakers doesn't approve though as the only decent ones we can find are pink and there's no way he's dressing his boy rat in pink. Says it's bad enough he's got no balls.

Perhaps I Should Have Mentioned....

I really am a bit of an eejit. I've applied for a new job in the caring profession, working with kids, and I clean forgot to mention on the form that I do voluntary work, with kids. I'm really quite annoyed with myself as, after all, one of the main reasons for volunteering was to help me get a job more suited to what I've studied. Anyway, that aside, I wasn't holding out for the job. I know the score by now. Quite often they already have someone lined up for the job but they have to go through all the necessary procedures. What will be will be and at least I like the job I'm in already.

Today was a good day in work. No bomb scares (yesterday we were evacuated for nearly 2 hours because of a hoax call) which is always a plus, though we did have a biker guy ask if he could leave his jacket and helmet in the shop for 10 minutes, which, really we probably shouldn't have. But we'd also just taken his photo for a passport so we figured he wouldn't be leaving any bombs as we had photographic evidence of what he looked like.

Also, two of my favouritist customers were in and one brought me maltesers (cos she knows they're my favourite), and the other brought in her big body builder son who, apparently, I was flirting with. I don't even like muscly men.

Robbed

I just woke up about 10 minutes ago and went about my usual morning buisness; took the lid off the rats tank, replaced their bowls with fresh water and food, made coffee, sat down for a smoke, truned the lapton on, checked emails. Then I looked at the time. 14:58. How in the hell did I manae to sleep 'til that time? That's 15 hours sleep! My one day off this weekend was spent sleeping. I feel robbed!

Because I'm Worth It

Today was lovely. I woke up early and surfed the net and drank coffee. I had a bath and drank more coffee. Then I went to town and bought myself expensive face cream. L'Oreal: Because I'm worth it.

I bought Jakers lunch and took it into his work. His lunch consisted of a burger in a pastie and a pink iced bun. I went home. I surfed the net and drank tea. I prepared a batter mix for Staffordshire oatcakes. I left it to sit. I washed dishes and cleaned floors.

Mum called and we went for coffee. I had a cinnamon and apple scone. I came home. I kissed Jakers and cooked up my oatcakes. I wasted about a third of my batter mix before I came anywhere close to getting something that resembled an oatcake. By the time I had finished I had perfected the technique. I left the oatcakes to cool. I kissed Jakers and headed out to my voluntary work.

Some of the kids wanted to do music and were disappointed I hadn't brought guitars. I called Jakers and asked him if he would meet me halfway with the guitars. Boys got guitars and were happy. A somewhat productive music session occurred.

Got home at 9. Positive reports on the oatcakes. Tried some myself and was pretty chuffed that they tasted like they were meant to. Promised Nelly I'd throw some her way but, since I ruined half the mix and discovered that Jakers is a big fan of the Stafforshire oatake, I might have to make her wait 'til the next batch is made.

Dog Frisbee

When I go back home to visit Nellybert Judy Dog is always super pleased to see me. She loves me y'see. Though she is a bit of a floozie and a tart as she has a major soft spot for Young Loveheart aswell. According to Bert it would 'sicken ye' the love and adoration Judy bestows upon Young Loveheart when he's visiting. A few weeks ago I was informed by mum and Bert that, should they both be kllled in a freak accident, Judy would go to ilve with Loveheart. Well. I. Never!

The rage! The pure shock and disgust I felt at learnng that I would not be Judy's next of kin. Over my dead body says I. So last week was the first time that myself, Young Loveheart and Judy were in the same room. He called Judy over. She ran to him like a big wet blanket and cuddled into his chest. Wee bitch. So I called her over. She ran to me without even so much as a backward glance at Loveheart. Score! She's my dog, she loves me. She loved me dearly until she was called away again to cuddle with the enemy. We played dog frisbee for a while until even my sister Katy said that Judy should go live with Loveheart. Betrayed by my own flesh and blood. Not once, not twice but thrice.

I threatened to take Loveheart to court over the custody of Judy and he promised me I could have visiting rights. But this is just all wrong. I was living at home when Judy was a tiny pup. I cuddled her, sang to her, bought her dog toys and nurtured her. And I bet she has never even licked Loveheart's toes. She's licked mine.

How Can That Be?

It's not often that me and Jakers have intellectual conversations but this is one we had the other day. It started with me reading his t.shirt that he got for taking part in the marathon. It read: The Belfast Marathon's 30th Year 1982-2011.

Me: How can it it be the Belfast Marathon's 30th Year?

Jakes: I know, i thought that?

Me: Because it's 1982-2011, that can't be 30 years.

Jakes: I know.

Me: Because we were born in 1982 and we're not 30 'til next year?

Jakes: I know, that's what I thought.

Me: And for it to be 30 years it would have to end in an even number and 2011 is an
odd number.

Jakes: I know.

Me: And it would have to end in the number 2!

Jakes: I know.

Then I proceeded to count (on my fingers) from 1982 to 2011 and, sure enough, it was 30 years. This fries my head a wee bit.

But anyway, the point of this story is to congratulate Jakers in his participation of this year's (the 30th year) Belfast marathon. Well done baby! He had sore knees but the rats kissed them better.

When You're Washing Up

This is an excerpt from Paulo Coelho's The Witch Of Portobello:

"When you're washing up, pray. be thankful there are plates to be washed; that means there was food, that you fed someone, that you've lavished care on one or more people, that you cooked and laid the table. Imagine the millions of people at this moment who have absolutely nothing to wash up and no one for whom to lay the table"

Lost

Usually, I'm not too bad at expressing my emotions through words but, now, I just can't seem to find the right ones. All I know is that I feel sad and however sad I feel I know that this must be ten fold for my mum and her brothers and sisters.