If anyone knows of any potential employers that would like to take on a 26 year old hard-working, punctual, eager to please, keen to learn, computer literate lassie please let me know. I need to find work, quickly, due to me telling my former boss that he could stick his job up his arse. But you have to realise that this is not generally the way I conduct myself around employers. In fact, I learnt the phrase 'ye can stick it up your arse' from my (ex) boss.
I have been unhappy there for a while now. Any job I do I like to feel that I'm doing it well. I couldn't do this job as well as I'd have liked to because there was too much expected off me and too little time. My boss gave me bare minimum information to work with. When one of his customers had a query that I couldn't answer I'd often ask my boss what I should tell them. His answer was usually: Tell her to go fuck herself. I grew sick of his unhelpful, arrogant manner of dealing with things. I got sick of people making demands that I just didn't have the time to meet. I'm sick of lying and covering up for my boss. I'm sick of him being a total cunt to people who have done good honest days' work for him but still have to beg for their cheques. I'm also sick of doing all this and being paid minimum wage. The last straw was today.
The boss could see I was getting a bit stressed out and so he asked me if I was unhappy with my job because if I wasn't happy I didn't have to work for him. I asked him if he was in my situation would he be happy. He didn't answer but said if I couldn't hack the pressure I could leave. So I did, because it felt like he was taunting me and I was already feeling like I didn't get paid enough to take shit without taking that shit too.
It was rash and impulsive and not exactly well thought out but it's done now and there's no point regretting it.
Monday, October 27, 2008
Thursday, October 23, 2008
Thai Tales
When I was in Thailand I taught older kids between the ages of 11-15. If I'd had a choice I would've worked with younger kids but any experience is a good experience and because the older kids sometimes (I stress sometimes) had quite good English and you could teach them more. But when the shit hit the fan with the Secondary school I had a chance to teach at a Primary school, covering for someone for 2 weeks. The other night I found this in a notebook. I'd always meant to post it but when I came back it was a bit too difficult writing about Thailand. It's almost a year since I've been back now and it's about time I got round to sharing it:
I did my last day of teaching today. Obviously I'm happy because it was a chore getting up in the mornings but I also feel sad that it's all over.
I'm glad I had the chance to teach the younger children. It was a totally different experience from teaching high school kids. For one, they're much better behaved. They are more respectful and sweet and they are more easily pleased.
It was like a breath of fresh air having an assistnat to help me (I was lucky if the Thai teachers at the high school sat in on my lessons, let alone assisted me). Koong disciplined the children, which is something I've always hated doing. She also translated when the children didn't understand. The kids obviously learn much more in this kind of set-up.
The school I was working at was private so classes were much smaller than Prah Narai. Koong often talked about 'special' children. These kids came to class but never particiapted. In the West these children would live in residential homes and be closely monitored but mental health problems aren't properly recognised in Thailand.
I found these children fascinating. They obviously all suffered from different problems but were all treated the same way. One boy, who was missing half of his left arm, was very quiet but he obviously had a lot going on in his head. He was jittery, chewed on a little piece of plastic wrapping. He was largely ignored by the rest of the class and he ignored them but every once in a while he'd get excited and come over and grab hold of me and fixate on something.
Some of the 'special' students were merely not as intelligent as their peers. They could so the work but not as quickly or to the same ability as everyone else.
One little boy liked to be told fables. Koong would sit at the back with him and tell him traditional Thai stories. He'd fall asleep almost instantly but wake up looking startled if Koong stopped.
There was only one student that Koong told me to be careful around. He'd bitten her a few times and he liked to hit the other children. It didn't help that he was twice, maybe 3 times the size as all the other 6 year olds. He lay down on the ground and wailed and moaned. If he got up all the kids would get up and run away from him. He looked permanently distressed. I felt sorry for him.
The most fascinating children were a little boy and a little girl who shared a table. They obviously hated each other and the other children that shared a table with them were wary. The little girl would move away from the boy, causing the others to shuffle around so they weren't too close to her. But they'd shuffle around 'til another student was too close to the boy then he'd start shuffling round in the opposite direction to get away from him. The little girl and boy would hit each other and yel at each other. Koong left them to it.
The older childen were very inqusitive about me. They wanted me to write my name, age and birthday in their notebooks and they drew pictures of me beside them. They asked me questions about my life at home; did I have pets; siblings; was my house made out of wood or cement. They asked these questions in Thai and Koong translated. But they were still listening to English and therefore learning. Sometimes you could spend a whole lesson with the older students just trying to get them to be quiet.
It ended there but reading it over makes me realise that if I'm ever gonna teach again it'll be the young 'uns because they're not as cocksure as teenagers are. Hmmm...makes me long for a better job and a bit of adventure.
I did my last day of teaching today. Obviously I'm happy because it was a chore getting up in the mornings but I also feel sad that it's all over.
I'm glad I had the chance to teach the younger children. It was a totally different experience from teaching high school kids. For one, they're much better behaved. They are more respectful and sweet and they are more easily pleased.
It was like a breath of fresh air having an assistnat to help me (I was lucky if the Thai teachers at the high school sat in on my lessons, let alone assisted me). Koong disciplined the children, which is something I've always hated doing. She also translated when the children didn't understand. The kids obviously learn much more in this kind of set-up.
The school I was working at was private so classes were much smaller than Prah Narai. Koong often talked about 'special' children. These kids came to class but never particiapted. In the West these children would live in residential homes and be closely monitored but mental health problems aren't properly recognised in Thailand.
I found these children fascinating. They obviously all suffered from different problems but were all treated the same way. One boy, who was missing half of his left arm, was very quiet but he obviously had a lot going on in his head. He was jittery, chewed on a little piece of plastic wrapping. He was largely ignored by the rest of the class and he ignored them but every once in a while he'd get excited and come over and grab hold of me and fixate on something.
Some of the 'special' students were merely not as intelligent as their peers. They could so the work but not as quickly or to the same ability as everyone else.
One little boy liked to be told fables. Koong would sit at the back with him and tell him traditional Thai stories. He'd fall asleep almost instantly but wake up looking startled if Koong stopped.
There was only one student that Koong told me to be careful around. He'd bitten her a few times and he liked to hit the other children. It didn't help that he was twice, maybe 3 times the size as all the other 6 year olds. He lay down on the ground and wailed and moaned. If he got up all the kids would get up and run away from him. He looked permanently distressed. I felt sorry for him.
The most fascinating children were a little boy and a little girl who shared a table. They obviously hated each other and the other children that shared a table with them were wary. The little girl would move away from the boy, causing the others to shuffle around so they weren't too close to her. But they'd shuffle around 'til another student was too close to the boy then he'd start shuffling round in the opposite direction to get away from him. The little girl and boy would hit each other and yel at each other. Koong left them to it.
The older childen were very inqusitive about me. They wanted me to write my name, age and birthday in their notebooks and they drew pictures of me beside them. They asked me questions about my life at home; did I have pets; siblings; was my house made out of wood or cement. They asked these questions in Thai and Koong translated. But they were still listening to English and therefore learning. Sometimes you could spend a whole lesson with the older students just trying to get them to be quiet.
It ended there but reading it over makes me realise that if I'm ever gonna teach again it'll be the young 'uns because they're not as cocksure as teenagers are. Hmmm...makes me long for a better job and a bit of adventure.
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
I Am Today
You Are Wednesday |
 Like this day of the week, you are ruled by Mercury. More than anything, you are unpredictable. You are witty and wise - but you are also easily bored. You tend to be flighty and careless. You are unreliable at times. In some ways, it's perfect that you match up with hump day. You are always coasting downhill - even when it seems like an uphill battle. |
The genearl mood at Nellybert's is very ho hum. We know it will pass though.
Meanwhile, there is a party to plan. It was meant to be a Halloween party but, as we're now having it on the 1st November, it will be a Mexican Day of the Dead party. I feel the need to rush out and buy a big bottle of tequila.
Monday, October 20, 2008
Scritchy Bitchy In Loan Hill Heaven
It sucks when your dog dies. You console yourself with the fact that they had a good life and lived to a good age but it still just sucks. Because, ultimately, you want them to live forever, like you want everything that you care about to live forever.
But they don't and and you deal with it and I can honestly, truly say that Rosie led a pretty perfect life. She was a total dreamboat that could charm the pants off most. When you know and love an animal, you find their ways so endearing that it breaks your heart you'll never know it again. Like the way she'd eat one hardnut at a time, the way she'd scritch and scratch at the door, incessantly, until you let her in, her obsessive-compulsive need to round up and herd other animals, her happy, excited tail-wagging when she saw a lead coming out, ah, the list goes on and on.
It's funny how the one weekend that I stayed in happened to be the last weekend I'd spend with Rosie. I woke up yesterday morning and she was lying curled up at the bottom of my bed. She lay curled up on mum's knee last night. She slept with Bert last night. She had her innings. But she'll be missed.
But they don't and and you deal with it and I can honestly, truly say that Rosie led a pretty perfect life. She was a total dreamboat that could charm the pants off most. When you know and love an animal, you find their ways so endearing that it breaks your heart you'll never know it again. Like the way she'd eat one hardnut at a time, the way she'd scritch and scratch at the door, incessantly, until you let her in, her obsessive-compulsive need to round up and herd other animals, her happy, excited tail-wagging when she saw a lead coming out, ah, the list goes on and on.
It's funny how the one weekend that I stayed in happened to be the last weekend I'd spend with Rosie. I woke up yesterday morning and she was lying curled up at the bottom of my bed. She lay curled up on mum's knee last night. She slept with Bert last night. She had her innings. But she'll be missed.
Sunday, October 19, 2008
Pan-Aid-A
It's amazing the way reading the Sunday papers can inspire life-changing decisions. I always did want to join the circus (as a lion-tamer tamer, the person who tames the lion-tamer) and it seems that maybe it really is my true calling in life. I want to be a wheel gymnast like Achus Emeis. It looks like such good fun. All I need is a big wheel and a leotard. How hard could it be to find a big wheel?
I drank to the point of stupidity last weekend and vowed never to lip booze again. Of course I was as right as rain by Tuesday but I still had a quiet one this weekend. I was Pearlie-sitting while Mum and Bert spent a night away. Pearlie was no bother but it seems I actually need lessons in how to close hens up for the night.
I thought maybe a weekend of purity might help inspire a little creativity but, alas, no my brain cells must still be recovering from last weekend. The most constructive things I've done this weekend is build fires (I'd have made an excellent caveman) and learn how to cook panada* (is that how ye spell it ma?).
*Panada (or Panade, possibly?) pron. Pan-aid-A
Hannah's Dictionary Def: What you feed the cat when there's no canned meat or hard nuts; what you feed Pearlie when there's no spuds; a rare dish that rare people eat, consisting of a slice o' breed broken up, a wee taste o' warm water and a wee taste o' warmed milk; A culinary delight.
So, yeah, a really constructive weekend. I learnt how to make soggy bread in warm milk.
I drank to the point of stupidity last weekend and vowed never to lip booze again. Of course I was as right as rain by Tuesday but I still had a quiet one this weekend. I was Pearlie-sitting while Mum and Bert spent a night away. Pearlie was no bother but it seems I actually need lessons in how to close hens up for the night.
I thought maybe a weekend of purity might help inspire a little creativity but, alas, no my brain cells must still be recovering from last weekend. The most constructive things I've done this weekend is build fires (I'd have made an excellent caveman) and learn how to cook panada* (is that how ye spell it ma?).
*Panada (or Panade, possibly?) pron. Pan-aid-A
Hannah's Dictionary Def: What you feed the cat when there's no canned meat or hard nuts; what you feed Pearlie when there's no spuds; a rare dish that rare people eat, consisting of a slice o' breed broken up, a wee taste o' warm water and a wee taste o' warmed milk; A culinary delight.
So, yeah, a really constructive weekend. I learnt how to make soggy bread in warm milk.
Thursday, October 16, 2008
Hannah Hates Holly Cat
A happy person is not a person in a certain set of circumstances, but rather a person with a certain set of attitudes.
I read this little ditty off a calendar at work. Considering my present circumstances at work I thought it was good advice. In fact, it's good advice for every aspect of life. It's too easy to blame your mood on external factors. Of course, to some extent, it can't be helped but I think we are more in control of our emotions than we care to let ourselves believe.
Here are some other proverbs floating round my brain:
If you don't ask, you don't get: How true, but just because you ask doesn't mean you're gonna get.
Don't count your chickens before they hatch: You might have ten eggs but 5 could be rotten.
Look before you leap: I've always struggled with this one. I like being impulsive but it pays to consider all possible outcomes. Sometimes.
Anyway, pet update: Bonnie is so hungry because of her 'roids she's taken to bin-hoking. Thankfully she's off the meds now; Paddy is most definitely gay - ask Jonathan; Rosie has become a member of my Hollycat-hating campaign. Holly makes me wonder why I wasted all that time trying to befriend stray cats.
I read this little ditty off a calendar at work. Considering my present circumstances at work I thought it was good advice. In fact, it's good advice for every aspect of life. It's too easy to blame your mood on external factors. Of course, to some extent, it can't be helped but I think we are more in control of our emotions than we care to let ourselves believe.
Here are some other proverbs floating round my brain:
If you don't ask, you don't get: How true, but just because you ask doesn't mean you're gonna get.
Don't count your chickens before they hatch: You might have ten eggs but 5 could be rotten.
Look before you leap: I've always struggled with this one. I like being impulsive but it pays to consider all possible outcomes. Sometimes.
Anyway, pet update: Bonnie is so hungry because of her 'roids she's taken to bin-hoking. Thankfully she's off the meds now; Paddy is most definitely gay - ask Jonathan; Rosie has become a member of my Hollycat-hating campaign. Holly makes me wonder why I wasted all that time trying to befriend stray cats.
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
This is What I Am
You Are a Pig |
 You are very intelligent, and you enjoy being around people. You can trust others easily. You have great reasoning skills, and you are quick learner. You are able to adapt to most situations. You tend to be very territorial and picky. You don't like people messing with your stuff. You have keen senses and reflexes. You can defend yourself well and quickly sense danger. |
Last week I watched a film. I can't recall the name of it but it was a fantasy story where everyone had there demons on the outside and they took the form of an animal. Got me thinking about people I know and what animal would be their demon.
Nelly I thought would be an owl but Bert said: Are owls not meant to be wise?
When I told mum this she said she'd be more like a bison or some big herd animal. I thought Bert would be some kind of reptile, like a big iguana or one of them slow moving critters.
I asked a few people what they thought I would be. Jakers said a lynx. Dirt Bird said a fawn (yes a fawn, not a faun, I checked), Nigel said a Jack Russell, which worried me a bit 'cos it was a little too perceptive for someone who doesn't know me that well. As it turns out, I am a pig. A pig! Class.
Friday, October 10, 2008
Itsy Bitsy Thumbnail Size
I walked in yesterday to hear Bert playing this little gem on the clarinet. Yes, that's right, Bert is learning Itsy Bitsy Teeny Weeny Yellow Polka Dot Bikini. I think he was aiming for the Brian Hyland version but it was sounding a bit more like Timmy Mallet to me.
In other news: We have recently discovered that if you think of the most boring, mundane thing that's happened to you Pearlie will consider this to be the most exciting and entertaining news ever! If you tell her about something totally amazing, however, she'll look at you with a blank expression. Oh, and if she does ever eat anything it's only ever a bit the size of a thumbnail (but what kind of thumbnail? A human's? An elephant's?).
Doggy news: The cat is a bastard! Whiny, gurny, miaowing bastard! There is little joy with her. Bonnie has become a cunning food thief. Paddy proves time and time again that he's all brawn and no brains and Rosie is keeping a low profile (which means she's probably planning some kind of big drama).
Work Update: The less said the better. It's Friday, Yaaay!
In other news: We have recently discovered that if you think of the most boring, mundane thing that's happened to you Pearlie will consider this to be the most exciting and entertaining news ever! If you tell her about something totally amazing, however, she'll look at you with a blank expression. Oh, and if she does ever eat anything it's only ever a bit the size of a thumbnail (but what kind of thumbnail? A human's? An elephant's?).
Doggy news: The cat is a bastard! Whiny, gurny, miaowing bastard! There is little joy with her. Bonnie has become a cunning food thief. Paddy proves time and time again that he's all brawn and no brains and Rosie is keeping a low profile (which means she's probably planning some kind of big drama).
Work Update: The less said the better. It's Friday, Yaaay!
Monday, October 06, 2008
How Long's A Bitch?
This is the typical kind of text conversation I have with my mate Kerm:
Me: WHAT'S YR GEN TO DA A (GET IT? I THOUGHT IT WAS WELL SMART) TONIGHT? WHAT TIME YE BE OUT?
Kerm: I AM OUT
Me: RIGHT THEN COVE I'LL SEE YE IN A BITCH
Kerm: HOW LONG'S A BITCH?
Me: AS LONG AS A WEE WIGGLY WORM WRITHING ON A WREATH
Kerm: FUCK YOU BOYROOT. TIME?
Me: HALF SEVEN GRUMPY BALLS X
Kerm has little patience for me being vague about what time I come out. As it happened, I went out about ten and I'm not even sure I saw him. When I came down from getting ready mum looked at me and said: I have to laugh at you, it takes you 6 hours to get ready and you look exactly the same as you started.
Now, back to what's really important. Halloween. Mel, Nelly and I need some costume suggestions. Dad, I know you offered some but if I'm going to be drinking a lot it's probably best I don't look like something so horrendous that I'm gonna want to puke when I look at myself. Any ideas, let me know.
Me: WHAT'S YR GEN TO DA A (GET IT? I THOUGHT IT WAS WELL SMART) TONIGHT? WHAT TIME YE BE OUT?
Kerm: I AM OUT
Me: RIGHT THEN COVE I'LL SEE YE IN A BITCH
Kerm: HOW LONG'S A BITCH?
Me: AS LONG AS A WEE WIGGLY WORM WRITHING ON A WREATH
Kerm: FUCK YOU BOYROOT. TIME?
Me: HALF SEVEN GRUMPY BALLS X
Kerm has little patience for me being vague about what time I come out. As it happened, I went out about ten and I'm not even sure I saw him. When I came down from getting ready mum looked at me and said: I have to laugh at you, it takes you 6 hours to get ready and you look exactly the same as you started.
Now, back to what's really important. Halloween. Mel, Nelly and I need some costume suggestions. Dad, I know you offered some but if I'm going to be drinking a lot it's probably best I don't look like something so horrendous that I'm gonna want to puke when I look at myself. Any ideas, let me know.
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Warning! Explicit Language, Your Eyes May Bleed
It's been a while since I did a blog rant. I kinda made a conscious effort to be more positive but y'know what? Fuck it. I'm gonna rant. Once again I'm disillusioned by the working world. I try to be as positive as I can about most of the jobs I do but sometimes it just gets to you. People! Stupid, incompetent, ignorant, ill-mannered, greedy, impatient, sly, stinking, rotten fuckers! Not all of them, of course, but this is my second day back at work after a week's holiday and I've just returned to chaos. Everybody wants something and they want it now. It's all about money, professionalism, pride and bollocks.
Ah, there, rant over. It does feel better to get it off my chest though. It's not that bad really. Things can always be worse. I'm lucky that it's just my job that's shitty. I'm lucky that it's a temporary job and I don't have the pressure of a career pinning me down anywhere. And as for the fuckers, I can choose not to let them annoy me. I can leave the crap behind me at five o'clock because I'm not paid to care past then.
So once again back to good things and fluffiness. Mum reminded me today that Halloween is creeping up on us. Z kindly provided me with this link to a website that shows you how to make your very own lion mask!! I don't know though. It's a wee bit too realistic and I might freak people out. I know that is the idea at Halloween but sometimes it can be taken just that bit too far. Kerm Dog springs to mind.
I would have some photos of my trip to England to plaster all over the place but I've had a huge falling out with digital technology. It wouldn't do what it was meant to do and I called it a piece of shit and it called me a bitch and said I hadn't a clue how to work it and I said that wasn't true it was purposely just being a complete twat to get at me. The fight ended in tears. But not mine.
Ah, there, rant over. It does feel better to get it off my chest though. It's not that bad really. Things can always be worse. I'm lucky that it's just my job that's shitty. I'm lucky that it's a temporary job and I don't have the pressure of a career pinning me down anywhere. And as for the fuckers, I can choose not to let them annoy me. I can leave the crap behind me at five o'clock because I'm not paid to care past then.
So once again back to good things and fluffiness. Mum reminded me today that Halloween is creeping up on us. Z kindly provided me with this link to a website that shows you how to make your very own lion mask!! I don't know though. It's a wee bit too realistic and I might freak people out. I know that is the idea at Halloween but sometimes it can be taken just that bit too far. Kerm Dog springs to mind.
I would have some photos of my trip to England to plaster all over the place but I've had a huge falling out with digital technology. It wouldn't do what it was meant to do and I called it a piece of shit and it called me a bitch and said I hadn't a clue how to work it and I said that wasn't true it was purposely just being a complete twat to get at me. The fight ended in tears. But not mine.
Thursday, September 25, 2008
I'm Not Crying, I've Just Been Cutting Onions
If you've been over at Nelly's you'll know that Bonnie is doing not too bad. She had some kind of red blod cell disease that she may possibly have contracted from onions, we're not sure, but she is home and she is alive so it's al good!
I just got back from a week in England seeing a lot of crazy cats. On Friday I met up with Dirt Bird and Scully-On. Dirt Bird wanted to be 15 again and drink cider in the park. I wanted to be 7 again and play on the swings in the park.
On Saturday we went for a drive to the Holly (Mighty) Bush just outside of Leek. It's a lovely wee canalside pub in the country. I've always loved it there. Dad, Linda and I would sometimes go for a drink then walk back to Leek by the canal path. We went there with Gravy Dave and Danny Boy. We had food and it was then that a very sinister character appeared, Charlie Chip Liddin' It. He's a story for another day though.
Ach, thinking about Charlie Chip just put me off there. I'm gonna have to finish this post by recommending that if you have a spare few minutes in your life check the Flights Of The Conchords out. Also, if you happen to be Norn Irish, you just can't not find this funny. Even if you're not from N.Iron, you'll probably still appreciate it.
I just got back from a week in England seeing a lot of crazy cats. On Friday I met up with Dirt Bird and Scully-On. Dirt Bird wanted to be 15 again and drink cider in the park. I wanted to be 7 again and play on the swings in the park.
On Saturday we went for a drive to the Holly (Mighty) Bush just outside of Leek. It's a lovely wee canalside pub in the country. I've always loved it there. Dad, Linda and I would sometimes go for a drink then walk back to Leek by the canal path. We went there with Gravy Dave and Danny Boy. We had food and it was then that a very sinister character appeared, Charlie Chip Liddin' It. He's a story for another day though.
Ach, thinking about Charlie Chip just put me off there. I'm gonna have to finish this post by recommending that if you have a spare few minutes in your life check the Flights Of The Conchords out. Also, if you happen to be Norn Irish, you just can't not find this funny. Even if you're not from N.Iron, you'll probably still appreciate it.
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
Bonnie
Feck and damnation! Only yesterday I was complaining about having nothing to write about. Today I wish I didn't have anything to write about.
Bonnie's sick. Sick as a dog. We knew it but I don't think we knew she was quite as sick as she is. Bert took her to the vet this morning. She needs a blood transfusion.
And bless her for she really has not been herself this past couple of days but she has tried.
Mum is devastated and praying to God that she'll be alright. I remember that day her and the labrador were dandering up the Dreen Road. Even then you could tell she was the friendliest dog in the world. It became apparent early on that she had been mistreated. She didn't know what it meant to be a dog.
Mum nurtured her, taught her how to play. Bert took her runs in the van so she eventually grew out of her travel sickness. Holly de cat and Z's Gracie would sink their teeth into her mane and she never once was angry.
Fuck I hope she's ok.
Bonnie's sick. Sick as a dog. We knew it but I don't think we knew she was quite as sick as she is. Bert took her to the vet this morning. She needs a blood transfusion.
And bless her for she really has not been herself this past couple of days but she has tried.
Mum is devastated and praying to God that she'll be alright. I remember that day her and the labrador were dandering up the Dreen Road. Even then you could tell she was the friendliest dog in the world. It became apparent early on that she had been mistreated. She didn't know what it meant to be a dog.
Mum nurtured her, taught her how to play. Bert took her runs in the van so she eventually grew out of her travel sickness. Holly de cat and Z's Gracie would sink their teeth into her mane and she never once was angry.
Fuck I hope she's ok.
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
The Wedding Lurgi
We had a few visitors, over the weekend, here at Nellybert's. One in the form of World Head, aka Salt Face aka Jamie from Wolstanton, the other in the form of the lovely Mel aka the lovely Mel.
Such was the occasion that even Bert went to the pub. Bert must be well over his wedding lurgi* now because he didn't just go out on Friday night but Saturday night too, to see the Red Hot Chilli Pipers live in action at Portglenone. On Friday night mum was woken from her slumber by Bert poking her with a toasted bagel. When I asked mum what Bert was doing in her bed Jamie replied:
They're married now Hannah, they're allowed to do that.
I guess they are. On Sunday Mel came round for her dinner and Swisser provided the entertainment. She fainted into the kitchen, clutching the door frame, struggling to stand on her two wee leg's, which were trembling underneath her. She must have caught Bert's wedding lurgi but after a big feed of curry and chocolate orange cake and fudge, she was as right as rain. Lurgi forgotten about until she was leaving and was worried that if she hugged Mel she'd be passing on her lurgi germs. How ye doing Mel? Feeling faint and feverish?
Rosie and Bonnie, being clever dogs, knew who Jamie was instantly. Paddy, not being the brightest of pups, took at least 2 hours to work it out. Oh, but when he did!
* Bert developed a lurgi after he got married. Under no circumstances was Bert feeling so peely wally because of drink. His lurgi lasted for at least 2 weeks!
Such was the occasion that even Bert went to the pub. Bert must be well over his wedding lurgi* now because he didn't just go out on Friday night but Saturday night too, to see the Red Hot Chilli Pipers live in action at Portglenone. On Friday night mum was woken from her slumber by Bert poking her with a toasted bagel. When I asked mum what Bert was doing in her bed Jamie replied:
They're married now Hannah, they're allowed to do that.
I guess they are. On Sunday Mel came round for her dinner and Swisser provided the entertainment. She fainted into the kitchen, clutching the door frame, struggling to stand on her two wee leg's, which were trembling underneath her. She must have caught Bert's wedding lurgi but after a big feed of curry and chocolate orange cake and fudge, she was as right as rain. Lurgi forgotten about until she was leaving and was worried that if she hugged Mel she'd be passing on her lurgi germs. How ye doing Mel? Feeling faint and feverish?
Rosie and Bonnie, being clever dogs, knew who Jamie was instantly. Paddy, not being the brightest of pups, took at least 2 hours to work it out. Oh, but when he did!
* Bert developed a lurgi after he got married. Under no circumstances was Bert feeling so peely wally because of drink. His lurgi lasted for at least 2 weeks!
Tuesday, September 09, 2008
Electric Picnic: How Rachael Allen Got me Drunk
There was so much to see and do at this festival there was never a dull moment. It was easy to get sidetracked, like when we walked past the dancing skeletons and the brass band playing Tequila, or the fantastic water stomping show with butterfly acrobactics. Zoe wanted to check out the live cooking demo so we wandered over to where Rachael Allen (Ireland's answer to Nigella Lawson) whizzed up a Gazpacho, which I obsessed about (it seemed like a miracle hangover cure) until they brought out some cocktails (also, a miracle hangover cure). So, Rachael Allen got me drunk. She teased me with Gazpacho then she got me drunk. I love that woman. She's better than Nigella.
Aaaah, I'm starting to forget now, everything that happened, but something I'll probably never forget is when a very drunk (quite ignorant) fella came over to me as I sat on the grass and asked me if I had any herion!
Says I to he: What kind of question is that to ask a complete stranger?
Says he to me: I don't know I just thought maybe you might have some heroin.
Says I to he: Do I look like the sorta person who would have heroin?
Says he to me: Yes, you look malnourished and a little bit yellow!
If Rachael had given me that Gazpacho I'm sure I would have looked less yellow and slightly more nourished. I'm sure of it!
Aaaah, I'm starting to forget now, everything that happened, but something I'll probably never forget is when a very drunk (quite ignorant) fella came over to me as I sat on the grass and asked me if I had any herion!
Says I to he: What kind of question is that to ask a complete stranger?
Says he to me: I don't know I just thought maybe you might have some heroin.
Says I to he: Do I look like the sorta person who would have heroin?
Says he to me: Yes, you look malnourished and a little bit yellow!
If Rachael had given me that Gazpacho I'm sure I would have looked less yellow and slightly more nourished. I'm sure of it!
Wednesday, September 03, 2008
Electric Picnic: The Village Green
The Village Green was where all the silly, nonsense things took place. A lady vicar danced provokatively to Prince outside the inflatable church, the village firemen rescued a kitty from a tree, people eat bacon, cheese and jam sanwiches for breakfast (I am still slightly disturbed by this but free breakfast is free breakfast). This is also where the ferris wheel and carousel were located, where Zoe and I hooted and hollered with delight as we spun round and round, whilst trying to hold onto our (weird) breakfast.
Another Village Green attraction was the silent disco. How does a silent disco work, I hear you ask. Well, everyone goes in and is given a set of headphones. Half the room hears a selection of songs, while the other half hears a different selection of songs. The result: everyone is dancing to their own personal disco. When you take your headphones off and look around it's hilarious. Everyone's dancing and bouncing to silence. We were told when we went in that it was meant to be a silent disco and if we sang along they would stop playing music.
Obviously Zoe and I exhausted ourselves running around this place soaking up all the excitement so when it all got too much we'd hang out in the Mind and Soul area. This is where all the hippies could be found, hugging trees, lounging about in hammocks, and generally being at peace with the world...
Obviously Zoe and I exhausted ourselves running around this place soaking up all the excitement so when it all got too much we'd hang out in the Mind and Soul area. This is where all the hippies could be found, hugging trees, lounging about in hammocks, and generally being at peace with the world...
Tuesday, September 02, 2008
Electric Picnic: The Music
Yessss! Live music was just the injection my soul needed. this is who I saw at Electric Picnic 2008:
Tinariwen - I'd never heard of them before (annoyingly, mum had) but I was intrigued by the programme's description of their desert jazz tunes. I wasn't disappointed either. Good music for chilling out to.
Christy Moore - Christy put on a class show because he seemed to be enjoying himself and he pulled in a big crowd. He only played upbeat songs and so everyone was really cheery and bouncy. You can't not smile and dance when your Irish and you hear Lisdoonvarna played live.
Gomez - I love this band and was looking forward to seeing them the most. They were fantastic but definitely not the music highlight of the weekend. It seemed like they were bored of playing their songs and they lacked any real stage presence. The two main singers didn't interact with the crowd at all and seemed a bit grumpy. They only played songs off Bring It On, which almost seemed like cheating. Still very good. But I said to Zoe that I didn't think I wanted them to come to our Halloween party anymore.
Duffy - I'm not a huge Duffy fan so we just saw the last couple of songs from her set. Can't say much about her though except that she's better than Amy Winehouse purely for the fact she remembers her words.
Franz Ferdinand - I'm ashamed to admit that I only really knew the sngles before seeing them but I am encouraged to seek out more (Dad, that is in no way a subtle hint to suggest that you could maybe, possibly copy me some CD's :) Good music to dance to. So we danced.
The Breeders - Yaaaaaaaaaaayyyy!! I am so happy I got to see the coolest female bassist ever. Kim and her twin sister Kelly are fantastic. They are definitely invited to our Halloween party. They smiled and talked the whole way through their set. They played a perfect blend of old and new songs and they played all the classics. I could've watched them play all night. Kim told us her mum had alzheimers before saying "She wrote some words in this next song" They were astounding and I walked away feeling like I was 14 and had just seen my idols (well, maybe not quite like that but it was awesome)
Sinead O'Connor - We couldn't actually be arsed going in to see her. We just listened to her whine from outside. She did play Nothing Compares 2 U but by that time me and Zoe were more interested in getting free tea and Flakes.
Grinderman - I had to listen to them on Zoe's ipod 'cause I'd never heard them before. Nick Cave at his finest. Same deep haunting voice, same crazy, mental rock music, but rather than being just dark, he is now humourously dark. I loved it! The only downside was that it was difficult to see the band because Nick Cave attracts abnormally tall people.
The Gossip - They're just a good fun, punk rock, chick band, how could I not like them? We missed a good bit of it but ejoyed what we saw.
Conor Oberst and The Mystic Valley Band - I'm more familiar with Bright Eyes but I think Conor Oberst is a lyrical genius so obviously I was gonna love anything he did. Apparently Conor was rotten with a cold when he played but he mentioned getting something from "a nice Scottish doctor" and somehow I don't think it was Beecham's. He actually seems like an arrogant little shit with strange quirks that he thinks are cool but are actually quite annoying. It doesn't matter though because he is cool, so he gets away with it. We loved them.
So that was the music. That was only a tiny bit of the festival. There was so much more but my fingers are weary from typing so it'll have to wait another day.
Tinariwen - I'd never heard of them before (annoyingly, mum had) but I was intrigued by the programme's description of their desert jazz tunes. I wasn't disappointed either. Good music for chilling out to.
Christy Moore - Christy put on a class show because he seemed to be enjoying himself and he pulled in a big crowd. He only played upbeat songs and so everyone was really cheery and bouncy. You can't not smile and dance when your Irish and you hear Lisdoonvarna played live.
Gomez - I love this band and was looking forward to seeing them the most. They were fantastic but definitely not the music highlight of the weekend. It seemed like they were bored of playing their songs and they lacked any real stage presence. The two main singers didn't interact with the crowd at all and seemed a bit grumpy. They only played songs off Bring It On, which almost seemed like cheating. Still very good. But I said to Zoe that I didn't think I wanted them to come to our Halloween party anymore.
Duffy - I'm not a huge Duffy fan so we just saw the last couple of songs from her set. Can't say much about her though except that she's better than Amy Winehouse purely for the fact she remembers her words.
Franz Ferdinand - I'm ashamed to admit that I only really knew the sngles before seeing them but I am encouraged to seek out more (Dad, that is in no way a subtle hint to suggest that you could maybe, possibly copy me some CD's :) Good music to dance to. So we danced.
The Breeders - Yaaaaaaaaaaayyyy!! I am so happy I got to see the coolest female bassist ever. Kim and her twin sister Kelly are fantastic. They are definitely invited to our Halloween party. They smiled and talked the whole way through their set. They played a perfect blend of old and new songs and they played all the classics. I could've watched them play all night. Kim told us her mum had alzheimers before saying "She wrote some words in this next song" They were astounding and I walked away feeling like I was 14 and had just seen my idols (well, maybe not quite like that but it was awesome)
Sinead O'Connor - We couldn't actually be arsed going in to see her. We just listened to her whine from outside. She did play Nothing Compares 2 U but by that time me and Zoe were more interested in getting free tea and Flakes.
Grinderman - I had to listen to them on Zoe's ipod 'cause I'd never heard them before. Nick Cave at his finest. Same deep haunting voice, same crazy, mental rock music, but rather than being just dark, he is now humourously dark. I loved it! The only downside was that it was difficult to see the band because Nick Cave attracts abnormally tall people.
The Gossip - They're just a good fun, punk rock, chick band, how could I not like them? We missed a good bit of it but ejoyed what we saw.
Conor Oberst and The Mystic Valley Band - I'm more familiar with Bright Eyes but I think Conor Oberst is a lyrical genius so obviously I was gonna love anything he did. Apparently Conor was rotten with a cold when he played but he mentioned getting something from "a nice Scottish doctor" and somehow I don't think it was Beecham's. He actually seems like an arrogant little shit with strange quirks that he thinks are cool but are actually quite annoying. It doesn't matter though because he is cool, so he gets away with it. We loved them.
So that was the music. That was only a tiny bit of the festival. There was so much more but my fingers are weary from typing so it'll have to wait another day.
Thursday, August 28, 2008
Yes, It Really Happened
I was always reluctant to dress like a girl. I wore trousers for my first 2 years at school because I downright refused to wear a skirt. They managed to get me in one for my First Holy Communion but when I was confirmed I was the only lass wearing trousers. I know many men who have worn a dress more recently than I have!
It's not everyday you get to see yer ma getting married though, so after much deliberation, I ended up wearing a dress. For an hour. And it was long enough. Here is the photographic evidence for people who don't believe it actually happened or for those of you intrigued by what I might look like as a woman. It's unlikely that mum will ever get married again so, therefore, unlikely that I'll ever be seen wearing a dress again.
It's not everyday you get to see yer ma getting married though, so after much deliberation, I ended up wearing a dress. For an hour. And it was long enough. Here is the photographic evidence for people who don't believe it actually happened or for those of you intrigued by what I might look like as a woman. It's unlikely that mum will ever get married again so, therefore, unlikely that I'll ever be seen wearing a dress again.
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
Bert Sets The Alarm
I was chatting to The Wee Manny on the phone tonight. He wanted to talk to Bert who'd just waslked in the door in a fluster, rushing to put the green things on for dinner. I told The Wee Manny he was in a bit of a fluster.
Y'see that's married life, it's changed him, says the Wee Manny.
It's only been a week, I said.
Aye, but I can tell within a week, I know him, says The Wee Manny.
Well I have noticed he's a wee bit more domesticated since he's been married, says I.
That's why he's flustered, says The Wise Old Wee Manny.
Bert's been looking after Clint's beasts while he's been away at some tractor show in Yorkshire. Between looking after them, his mum, dealing with the potato blight and cooking McFalls Balls and green things for dinner it's hardly surprising he's flustered. His cousin Margaret said to him, at eight o'clock tonight before he was rushing out the door, Bertie, there's an alarm going off upstairs. It was his alarm clock and he said Oh, so that's why it didn't go off at eight this morning. Margaret replied, That's a likely Bert excuse if ever I heard one!
Y'see that's married life, it's changed him, says the Wee Manny.
It's only been a week, I said.
Aye, but I can tell within a week, I know him, says The Wee Manny.
Well I have noticed he's a wee bit more domesticated since he's been married, says I.
That's why he's flustered, says The Wise Old Wee Manny.
Bert's been looking after Clint's beasts while he's been away at some tractor show in Yorkshire. Between looking after them, his mum, dealing with the potato blight and cooking McFalls Balls and green things for dinner it's hardly surprising he's flustered. His cousin Margaret said to him, at eight o'clock tonight before he was rushing out the door, Bertie, there's an alarm going off upstairs. It was his alarm clock and he said Oh, so that's why it didn't go off at eight this morning. Margaret replied, That's a likely Bert excuse if ever I heard one!
Poor Wacko
I had completely forgotten about the Brit Awards when Jarvis Cocker got up on stage with Wacko Jacko and waved his ass at him. Classic moment in T.V. and music history if you ask me. Made a hero out of Jarvis. The clip of him actually doing it was taking ages to upload on You Tube but I found this little gem instead.
Of course I'm on Jarvis' side. Always thought M.J. was just a little too crazy but I do love his press statement where he says he feels sickened, saddened, shocked, upset, cheated and angry. Most people would sum that up as being pissed off. I also like that he claims to respect them as artists. Can't really see Michael moonwalkin' to Common People but ye never know.
Of course I'm on Jarvis' side. Always thought M.J. was just a little too crazy but I do love his press statement where he says he feels sickened, saddened, shocked, upset, cheated and angry. Most people would sum that up as being pissed off. I also like that he claims to respect them as artists. Can't really see Michael moonwalkin' to Common People but ye never know.
Thursday, August 21, 2008
Time For Bed
Since getting free internet browsing on my mobile I have become addicted to downloading theme tune midis for my ringtones. It's a terrible affliction that stemmed from having the I Dream Of Jeannie theme song in my head. I have trawled through lists of TV and movie themes, downloaded dozens, deleted a fair few, 'cos they were shite, but one that remains is The Magic Roundabout theme. I want it to be my alarm in the morning.
As always one thought leads to another and I was reminded of Bill Bailey's take on The Magic Roundabout. Maybe you have to have a certain sense of humour to appreciate it but I think it's hilarious. Bill Bailey is right, The Magic Roundabout is sinister. Maybe it's not the bst thing to wake up to in the morning.
As always one thought leads to another and I was reminded of Bill Bailey's take on The Magic Roundabout. Maybe you have to have a certain sense of humour to appreciate it but I think it's hilarious. Bill Bailey is right, The Magic Roundabout is sinister. Maybe it's not the bst thing to wake up to in the morning.
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
I Do Though Don't I Though
Here's the evidence. Nelly and Bert got married. Bert looks very stoical but he's not. This is his happy face. Mum has lovely rosy cheeks. These cheeks got rosier as the night went on. She was a proper blushing bride although not because she was embarrassed but because of the vast quanitites of champagne she consumed.
We all knew it wasn't going to be a traditional wedding but mum did have the something old (second-hand clutch bag), something new (shoes), something borrowed (Pearl necklace from Pearlie) and something blue (her dress). The only other tradition they kept was Bert carrying mum over the threshold. Except that the only way he thought he'd be able to do it was by giving her a piggyback (Bert had also consumed vast quantites of champagne by this stage). This of course resulted in Mum falling down.
The bits in between mum and Bert saying 'I do' and mum falling down involved eating delicious food, drinking and generally enjoying the merriment. The youngest Miss Banjo did a class speech, followed by me saying a few words on behalf of the folk that couldn't be there and then the Wee Manny rather impressivley stood up and and rattled out a speech from the top of his head. And who better to do it than the man that introduced them?
It was a lovely day and although many people were missed and thought of, the small crowd made it much more intimate and special for mum and Bert. I still reckon they should've had the party of the century but it's only 2 months 'til Hallow'een. Yeeeoooww!
We all knew it wasn't going to be a traditional wedding but mum did have the something old (second-hand clutch bag), something new (shoes), something borrowed (Pearl necklace from Pearlie) and something blue (her dress). The only other tradition they kept was Bert carrying mum over the threshold. Except that the only way he thought he'd be able to do it was by giving her a piggyback (Bert had also consumed vast quantites of champagne by this stage). This of course resulted in Mum falling down.
The bits in between mum and Bert saying 'I do' and mum falling down involved eating delicious food, drinking and generally enjoying the merriment. The youngest Miss Banjo did a class speech, followed by me saying a few words on behalf of the folk that couldn't be there and then the Wee Manny rather impressivley stood up and and rattled out a speech from the top of his head. And who better to do it than the man that introduced them?
It was a lovely day and although many people were missed and thought of, the small crowd made it much more intimate and special for mum and Bert. I still reckon they should've had the party of the century but it's only 2 months 'til Hallow'een. Yeeeoooww!
Friday, August 15, 2008
Problem Solved
Although Nelly is perfectly happy with my choice to wear jeans for her wedding it seems there are quite a few people (mostly men) who feel that I should be making an effort to doll myself up. One of the driver's at work said I'd look like a gypsy turning up in jeans and when we looked back at the wedding photos people would comment on the hobo who was just passing by and decided to join in with the celebrations.
Well, to save my head being turned with frocks and jeans I've decided that I'm going to wear a romper suit like the one I had when I was 1. I may also get my hair bleached and cut into an Ed the Duck mohawk but I'll see how I feel tomorrow.
Well, to save my head being turned with frocks and jeans I've decided that I'm going to wear a romper suit like the one I had when I was 1. I may also get my hair bleached and cut into an Ed the Duck mohawk but I'll see how I feel tomorrow.
Monday, August 11, 2008
Frock Shock
There was me thinking that I was well organised for Moms' wedding. I should have known better. If I try to be organised it backfires and I end up having to do things at the last minute anyway. The jeans I ordered were no good and I didn't return them in time to get different ones (damn that posting parcels phobia of mine!).
I was in the town on Saturday with big sis Zoe and my cousin (the surly one) and I stupidly made a joke about wearing a frock to the wedding. I only tried on 2 dresses but it seemed like I had to change clothes a million times. No matter how hard Trinny and Susannah tried they failed to convince me that wearing a dress was a good idea. They were both very sweet, patient and encouraging and I was a total brat who stomped my foot down and cried But I just want to wear jeans!
So now I have to go wedding outfit shopping the Saturday before the wedding. But it still won't be as horrendous as getting an outfit for Auntie D's wedding when a friend offered her services as personal shopper, got pissed off with me turning my nose up at everything until she eventually bullied me into buying a top I didn't even want. She then took it upon herself to buy me a pair of shoes that I hadn't even seen and expected me to go fetch them off her the same day I was getting my flight! That was the flight I never actually made because I was being violently ill all over Liverpool airport. So however stressful it is getting kitted out it couldn't possibly be as bad as that. Although perhaps I shouldn't jinx things.
I was in the town on Saturday with big sis Zoe and my cousin (the surly one) and I stupidly made a joke about wearing a frock to the wedding. I only tried on 2 dresses but it seemed like I had to change clothes a million times. No matter how hard Trinny and Susannah tried they failed to convince me that wearing a dress was a good idea. They were both very sweet, patient and encouraging and I was a total brat who stomped my foot down and cried But I just want to wear jeans!
So now I have to go wedding outfit shopping the Saturday before the wedding. But it still won't be as horrendous as getting an outfit for Auntie D's wedding when a friend offered her services as personal shopper, got pissed off with me turning my nose up at everything until she eventually bullied me into buying a top I didn't even want. She then took it upon herself to buy me a pair of shoes that I hadn't even seen and expected me to go fetch them off her the same day I was getting my flight! That was the flight I never actually made because I was being violently ill all over Liverpool airport. So however stressful it is getting kitted out it couldn't possibly be as bad as that. Although perhaps I shouldn't jinx things.
Wednesday, August 06, 2008
Don't Fear The Reaper
When I was younger I was one of those children that was feared of everything. I was scared of the dark, bears in the woods, being put in a children's home, the squashy tomato-faced man living in the attic. I would hover above the toilet for fear a hand would reach up and grab me and pull me down to the sewers. We had this dresser in our bedroom with mirrors that folded over so you could check the back of your hair. It terrified me because when you looked into it you could see your reflection multiplied by a hundred and I was always sure that one of those Hannah's was going to give me a cheeky wink or do something that I didn't do.
Life can be a scary place when you're young and fear is something I now rarely experience. The racing, beating heart, cold, sweaty palms, the feeling that your insides are going to crawl up you gullet and come spitting out your mouth. The last time I felt like this it had very little to do with unearthly creatures and a lot to do with Thai immigration.
This is why I am already excited about Halloween. I've decided on behalf of Nelly and Bert that we will be having a full-on fancydress halloween party (I'll finally get to be a lion Danny Boy!) Zoe and I will create an array of tasty halloween themed treats and there will be a magical mystery ghost tour (um...Mels, fancy being a ghost for a night? I'll pay you in people's souls). Perhaps even the Squashy tomato-faced man will make an appearance. Yaaay!! I can't wait!
Life can be a scary place when you're young and fear is something I now rarely experience. The racing, beating heart, cold, sweaty palms, the feeling that your insides are going to crawl up you gullet and come spitting out your mouth. The last time I felt like this it had very little to do with unearthly creatures and a lot to do with Thai immigration.
This is why I am already excited about Halloween. I've decided on behalf of Nelly and Bert that we will be having a full-on fancydress halloween party (I'll finally get to be a lion Danny Boy!) Zoe and I will create an array of tasty halloween themed treats and there will be a magical mystery ghost tour (um...Mels, fancy being a ghost for a night? I'll pay you in people's souls). Perhaps even the Squashy tomato-faced man will make an appearance. Yaaay!! I can't wait!
Saturday, August 02, 2008
Bleeding Gums Bowyer
I went to the dentist on Thursday morning as the tooth wasn't getting any better and my face had swollen up. She told me it was an abcess and asked if I wanted it pulled out right there and then. Yes! The feud was finally going to be over between me and this wretched tooth. And I was going to win! No gas and air though. I had to brave it with injections and keeping my eyes shut and pretending that she was not wrenching this massive lump of tooth and metal from my mouth (you just can't help but feel a bit violated though). And she kept lying and saying it was nearly over.
After this I called in at Trevor Keyes music shop and walked out with a brand new alto saxophone. My new baby. She is shiny, dinky and I have white gloves to play her with (but I won't). Unfortunately, because of the tooty mouth, I couldn't play her and Bert got to christen it. I might go to San Franciso and do a bit of busking. Considering the dodgy state of my teeth I could go by the name of Bleeding Gums Bowyer. Get myself a wee dog and busk my way down to Mexico. Ahh...you can do anything when you've got a new saxophone.
After this I called in at Trevor Keyes music shop and walked out with a brand new alto saxophone. My new baby. She is shiny, dinky and I have white gloves to play her with (but I won't). Unfortunately, because of the tooty mouth, I couldn't play her and Bert got to christen it. I might go to San Franciso and do a bit of busking. Considering the dodgy state of my teeth I could go by the name of Bleeding Gums Bowyer. Get myself a wee dog and busk my way down to Mexico. Ahh...you can do anything when you've got a new saxophone.
Thursday, July 31, 2008
What Kind Of Musical Instrument Should I Play
You Should Play the Saxophone |
 You are charismatic, friendly, and very uninhibited. You have a lot of personal expression to bring your music. Improvisational and informal, you can't deal with an instrument that has too many rules or complexities. You are much more interested in creating unique solos than immersing yourself in music theory. You have a lot of style, and you definitely are one smooth operator. And while you may not play perfectly, no one's going to accuse you of being boring. Your dominant personality characteristic: being very outgoing Your secondary personality characteristic: your flair for the unique and dramatic |
It's a good job I've got one!!
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
I Want An Extraction Please
AAAARRRRRRGGGGGHHHHH!!!
One word: Toothache.
I have a tooth (I say tooth but there's more filling than tooth there now) that's been hassling me for years. We had a massive falling out in 2002 and since then I've wanted it gone. Everytime I go to the dentist I plead with them to extract it (extraction - such a lovely word) but they always seem to think they can fix it. The last dentist to attempt this admitted it was a tricky tooth to fill but she was always much more interested in what she was having for dinner.
I don't actually mind the dentist too much. You have sore teeth and they fix them. My dentist in Ballymena gives me gas and air. Gas and air's ace. You don't care that there's someone poking about your mouth and hoovering the slabbers away. You find it hilariously funny when the dentist starts talking about buccals and fissures and you come away from the whole experience mellow and chilled and with teeth that no longer hurt. Yaay!
One word: Toothache.
I have a tooth (I say tooth but there's more filling than tooth there now) that's been hassling me for years. We had a massive falling out in 2002 and since then I've wanted it gone. Everytime I go to the dentist I plead with them to extract it (extraction - such a lovely word) but they always seem to think they can fix it. The last dentist to attempt this admitted it was a tricky tooth to fill but she was always much more interested in what she was having for dinner.
I don't actually mind the dentist too much. You have sore teeth and they fix them. My dentist in Ballymena gives me gas and air. Gas and air's ace. You don't care that there's someone poking about your mouth and hoovering the slabbers away. You find it hilariously funny when the dentist starts talking about buccals and fissures and you come away from the whole experience mellow and chilled and with teeth that no longer hurt. Yaay!
Thursday, July 24, 2008
Love's Young Dream
Bert and Mum have been together for 22 years. I was 4 when they first started dating. My most vivid memory of Bert back then was him punching a hole in the bedroom wall when he had the misfortune of babysitting me. I must have been a complete, total brat (anyone who knows me well will vouch for this) as it takes a LOT to piss Bertie Boy off to the point where walls suffer.
Anyway, despite many more tantrums like that, having to share a house with 4 screaming, fighting women from Hell and years of having the Pee taken out of him, Bert is still around, and not only that, is going to make an honest woman out of me ma.
At first the idea of Bert and Mum getting married made me laugh out loud. Then when I came round to the idea I suggested to them that this could be THE party of the century. People would come flocking from all over the world to hear Bert and Nelly say 'I do'. But, sadly, they did not share the same enthusiam.
So a quiet affair has been arranged and I am the ring bearer (now are you really sure about that mum for I haven't had a good track record with rings just lately? - Perhaps there would be a safer job for me... like just being there).
Anyway, I must be getting excited because I've even ordered myself new jeans just for the occasion. And so while there is excitement in the air I'd like to take this opportunity to congratulate Mr. Orr and Mrs Nearly Orr and hope that their 'big day' is everything they hope for.
Now I have to go and wipe the cheese from my brow.
Anyway, despite many more tantrums like that, having to share a house with 4 screaming, fighting women from Hell and years of having the Pee taken out of him, Bert is still around, and not only that, is going to make an honest woman out of me ma.
At first the idea of Bert and Mum getting married made me laugh out loud. Then when I came round to the idea I suggested to them that this could be THE party of the century. People would come flocking from all over the world to hear Bert and Nelly say 'I do'. But, sadly, they did not share the same enthusiam.
So a quiet affair has been arranged and I am the ring bearer (now are you really sure about that mum for I haven't had a good track record with rings just lately? - Perhaps there would be a safer job for me... like just being there).
Anyway, I must be getting excited because I've even ordered myself new jeans just for the occasion. And so while there is excitement in the air I'd like to take this opportunity to congratulate Mr. Orr and Mrs Nearly Orr and hope that their 'big day' is everything they hope for.
Now I have to go and wipe the cheese from my brow.
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
Roxy
The time has come! I'm 26 now, a big girl, some would even call me an adult and so it's about time I had a computer of my very own. I'll call her Roxy. She'll connect me with The Universe and I'll clutter her hard drive with toot.
I need some help though. I know nothing about computers. I don't know what makes are good or what kind of prices I should pay. All I know is I want a laptop. All I need a computer for is internet, music and photos so I don't need anything too posh. If anyone has any ideas please advise.
'Cause, y'see, if I have a computer I can watch things that make me laugh, such as this Black Books clip, which shows Bernard at his absolute finest. The 'Tower Of Soup' always makes me smile.
I need some help though. I know nothing about computers. I don't know what makes are good or what kind of prices I should pay. All I know is I want a laptop. All I need a computer for is internet, music and photos so I don't need anything too posh. If anyone has any ideas please advise.
'Cause, y'see, if I have a computer I can watch things that make me laugh, such as this Black Books clip, which shows Bernard at his absolute finest. The 'Tower Of Soup' always makes me smile.
Friday, July 18, 2008
Tatyo Cheese and What?
Here in Ireland we are very fond of our Tayto crisps. Everyone I know that has visited from England has gone back home armed with packs upon packs of Tayto Onion Rings. When I put this picture up on flickr it aroused feelings of nostalgia for many irish folk who no longer live here.
What makes Tayto crisps so good? Well, we could never know because that would involve learning what the secret ingredient is and that's a secret.
But if you were eager to find out more about Tayto (I say eager, what I mean is deranged), you could always book yourself in for a factory tour. Oh yes, come to Northern Ireland where you can visit the Giant's Causeway, cross the ropebridge, drink Bushmills....and visit Mr. Tayto who smells awfully like cheese and onion...hmmm. By the way, the secret ingredient is obviously crack cocaine. There's a dude from up the Doury Rd. does Mr. Tayto a good deal.
What makes Tayto crisps so good? Well, we could never know because that would involve learning what the secret ingredient is and that's a secret.
But if you were eager to find out more about Tayto (I say eager, what I mean is deranged), you could always book yourself in for a factory tour. Oh yes, come to Northern Ireland where you can visit the Giant's Causeway, cross the ropebridge, drink Bushmills....and visit Mr. Tayto who smells awfully like cheese and onion...hmmm. By the way, the secret ingredient is obviously crack cocaine. There's a dude from up the Doury Rd. does Mr. Tayto a good deal.
Thursday, July 17, 2008
Rock Off With Satan
How can you not love these guys? Tenacious D in The Pick Of Destiny. What else ya gonna do when you come face to face with the Divil himsel' but have a Rock Off.
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
Gravy Dave Grooving At The Grouse
I'm literally having to squeeze this post out of my ass. I'm suffering from Blogger Constipation. Gravy Dave was in town on Friday so I treated him to the wonders of Ballymena on the 11th night. This involved getting drunk at O'Rawes then heading to the Grouse to join the 5 other people on the disco dancefloor. After 2o minutes of bumping and grinding with a wasted 40 year old we decided that was enough of that and headed up to Jakers (with Kerm Dog, Chemical Del and the 5 other people from the Grouse). We picked up a few other strays along the way and spent the night partying.
I think Gravy Dave had a pleasant enough time. As long as beer is involved he's generally pretty happy. I love easily pleased people. Gravy Dave gets excited about waiting at bus stations so he's my kind of guy (as this means I don't have to feel guilty when I've left him waiting ages because I was playing with the dogs). I can't say I remember a whole lot about Friday night but I do remember sitting beside this guy, let's call him Rodrick 'cos I can't remember his name. When I sat down he said
Alright Miss Bowyer?
I replied,
How do you know my surname?
He said,
I know everything Hannah Clare Bowyer.
I said,
Woah! Seriously how do you know my name, who do you know?
Then he smiled and said,
Fifteen eighty two.
I said,
Nah, swear to God, how do you know my birthday as well?
He just laughed and said,
You left your passport sitting there.
I think Gravy Dave had a pleasant enough time. As long as beer is involved he's generally pretty happy. I love easily pleased people. Gravy Dave gets excited about waiting at bus stations so he's my kind of guy (as this means I don't have to feel guilty when I've left him waiting ages because I was playing with the dogs). I can't say I remember a whole lot about Friday night but I do remember sitting beside this guy, let's call him Rodrick 'cos I can't remember his name. When I sat down he said
Alright Miss Bowyer?
I replied,
How do you know my surname?
He said,
I know everything Hannah Clare Bowyer.
I said,
Woah! Seriously how do you know my name, who do you know?
Then he smiled and said,
Fifteen eighty two.
I said,
Nah, swear to God, how do you know my birthday as well?
He just laughed and said,
You left your passport sitting there.
Tuesday, July 08, 2008
A Prince Albert For Jack
When you work with lorry drivers you talk to them at your own peril. Innocent things can be turned into filth. Everything you say can be misconstrued. This leads to face reddening situations. For example:
While having a conversation about devices that remove staples (staple removers) you should not say They're only good if you have a big thick one and you can pull it out.
This will only be met with roars of laughter and severe ridiculing about pulling big thick ones out.
It is also not a good idea to tell your work colleagues about a dirty looking fella who was in last week holding a big tool. If you don't know the name of the tool he's holding you should say nothing.
When accepting a lift from one of the drivers be prepared for him to answer a call from The Boss on his mobile screaming: Would ye get a away from me! Get away! That's the last time I give that wee girl a lift home, she won't keep her hands off me!
It's like being back in the playground but it is funny when The Boss shouts out: Hannah do ye know what a Prince Albert is?
I do aye.
Tell Jack what it is, he disnae know what a Prince Albert is.
So I explained to Jack what a Prince Albert is. He is so enlightened he's thinking of getting one.
While having a conversation about devices that remove staples (staple removers) you should not say They're only good if you have a big thick one and you can pull it out.
This will only be met with roars of laughter and severe ridiculing about pulling big thick ones out.
It is also not a good idea to tell your work colleagues about a dirty looking fella who was in last week holding a big tool. If you don't know the name of the tool he's holding you should say nothing.
When accepting a lift from one of the drivers be prepared for him to answer a call from The Boss on his mobile screaming: Would ye get a away from me! Get away! That's the last time I give that wee girl a lift home, she won't keep her hands off me!
It's like being back in the playground but it is funny when The Boss shouts out: Hannah do ye know what a Prince Albert is?
I do aye.
Tell Jack what it is, he disnae know what a Prince Albert is.
So I explained to Jack what a Prince Albert is. He is so enlightened he's thinking of getting one.
Monday, July 07, 2008
Oul' Pearlie Blue
When it comes to Bert's mum Pearlie I normally have the patience of a saint but she is possibly one of the most negative people I have ever known. The other night she couldn't eat the spud I made her. She was too full. As well as that the spud wisnae very nice. When I told her I hadn't really learnt how to cook potatoes yet she told me it was cooked fine but still, it wisnae very nice. And not only that, it was a wee bit cold too.
Most folk try their best to hide signs of discontent. Not Pearlie. She positively embraces negativity. Nothing is ever right. You could move mountains for her and she's say you moved it in the wrong direction. You could hand her a check for a million pounds and she'd say That's great but I weeshed ye'd have written it in blue ink. You could show her the cutest most adorable puppy/baby/kitten and she'd say I dinnae like it, it looks like a wee frog! She doesn't get called Pearlie Blue for nothing.
Most folk try their best to hide signs of discontent. Not Pearlie. She positively embraces negativity. Nothing is ever right. You could move mountains for her and she's say you moved it in the wrong direction. You could hand her a check for a million pounds and she'd say That's great but I weeshed ye'd have written it in blue ink. You could show her the cutest most adorable puppy/baby/kitten and she'd say I dinnae like it, it looks like a wee frog! She doesn't get called Pearlie Blue for nothing.
Monday, June 30, 2008
We Don't Need No Education
Kids today are certainly receiving a top notch education! According to this article, writing fuck off as an answer to an English essay is worth at least 2 points for correct spelling ('tis not exactly hard to learn as it's graffitied on nearly every wall in the UK) and conveying meaning (hmmm, is this actually the meaning we want children to convey?).
It's ridiculous but what's even more ridiculous is that the essay title, to which the student responded with an obscenity, was: Describe the room you're sitting in.
I know it was a long time ago since I sat my GCSE's but I'm sure not much has changed since then. I don't think students sit their exams at the Zoo or in a spaceship or Alton Towers. So therefore, asking them to describe the room they're sitting in is a bit lame.
The room I am sitting in is approximately 50ft by 35ft. The walls are white. There is a clock on the wall. There are 60 desks but only 57 chairs. There are 60 children all wearing the same uniform.
You can't really blame the kid for writing fuck off. I think I would've too.
It's ridiculous but what's even more ridiculous is that the essay title, to which the student responded with an obscenity, was: Describe the room you're sitting in.
I know it was a long time ago since I sat my GCSE's but I'm sure not much has changed since then. I don't think students sit their exams at the Zoo or in a spaceship or Alton Towers. So therefore, asking them to describe the room they're sitting in is a bit lame.
The room I am sitting in is approximately 50ft by 35ft. The walls are white. There is a clock on the wall. There are 60 desks but only 57 chairs. There are 60 children all wearing the same uniform.
You can't really blame the kid for writing fuck off. I think I would've too.
Thursday, June 26, 2008
Bonnie's Hungry
Looks like I've no choice but to pursue a career in tree-felling as the lovely Mels has been royally shafted by Britain's sorry excuse for a postal service. I did think about getting a job in the sorting office but it seems Mel will kick my gremliney ass if I do.
I can't write this post because Bonnie dog is whining: Hannah get up off your fat lazy-hoor ass and make me some goddam dinner.
Honestly, she's got such a foul mouth and bulshy manner. I wonder where she learnt that from?
I can't write this post because Bonnie dog is whining: Hannah get up off your fat lazy-hoor ass and make me some goddam dinner.
Honestly, she's got such a foul mouth and bulshy manner. I wonder where she learnt that from?
Sunday, June 22, 2008
Is It Your Birthday?
This post is in reply to the previous post's comments. Mel! It took me a while to figure out what Bons your unclie meant. I thought you were suggesting I gave Bonnie some unclie but now I realise you meant Bob's your uncle!! Were you at that green butter?
D@ve, my reply to your comment might seem a bit random but I was referring to Crocodile Dundee hypnotising the bull with his hand. Incidentally, I heard a story last night where some fellow was mugged on holiday and he tried the Crocodile Dundee bull-hypnotising trick on his attacker but, unsurprisingly, to no avail.
And finally, anonymous, of course I haven't forgot your birthday (I am now racking my brains trying to think who's birthday it is in a few weeks!). Where's the party?
D@ve, my reply to your comment might seem a bit random but I was referring to Crocodile Dundee hypnotising the bull with his hand. Incidentally, I heard a story last night where some fellow was mugged on holiday and he tried the Crocodile Dundee bull-hypnotising trick on his attacker but, unsurprisingly, to no avail.
And finally, anonymous, of course I haven't forgot your birthday (I am now racking my brains trying to think who's birthday it is in a few weeks!). Where's the party?
Thursday, June 19, 2008
Anybody Know A Dog Hypnotiser?
Bert got a phone call from Ernie today. Bert said "Hey, what's up Ernie?"Ernie said "There's two of your dirty scunging devil dogs standing here on the Dreen road"
I know. They look like butter wouldn't melt but the truth is they're two wee feckers who'd run away in a flash. There are a number of reasons why we disapprove of such activity:1. The farmer might shoot them.
2. They might kill farmers' sheep.
3. They might get run over on the road.
4. Paddy is stupid and might get his head stuck in a bucket all night.
5. Rosie is an old bitcher now and she's wearing herself out.
But they don't understand all this and it's in their blood to scunge.
Now that the carers come into to see Pearlie they use this as an excuse to slip out the door. Any sort of commotion or chaos that goes on you'll be guaranteed they have taken advantage of the situation. The only thing we haven't tried is getting someone in to hypnotise them. But it may be our only hope...
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
Dirt Bird's Charms
Here is a picture of Dirt Bird and Brummy Steve. This was the morning after my leaving party, the one that was so good I didn't actually leave. I love this picture. This is quite often how Dirt Bird looks. Twirling her fingers through her hair, eyes shut, mouth open...no wonder Steve is besotted.
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
The Legend Of The Dreen
Around these parts there are many myths and legends. They include headless horsemen, highway men and The Mouth Of Hell. Galgorm Castle holds a story about a nobleman who outwitted The Divil Himself. The nobleman was promised great riches (and possibly ever-lasting life but I don't really remember) in exchange for his soul. The Divil Himself would come to claim his reward when a candle had burned down but the clever nobleman never let the candle burn down. He blew it out and hid it in an old dusty book. If I'd known it was so easy to get one over on the Divil I'd have sold my soul for a magic carpet years ago. The nobleman's plan was flawed however because he did not account for the possibility that one of his maid's might find it and, thinking it was a bit dark, light it until it burned down. The Divil came back and claimed his soul and the nobleman's ghost now haunts the castle grounds forever.
The scariest legend about these parts is much closer to home though. It's a Dreen legend specifically located in the attic of this house. When I was younger and I came to visit Bert's parents I used to hover by the attic stairs. Up those stairs were great treasures. Bert's childhood toys. Rocking horses, toy cars, diggers, soldiers. All of them longing to be played with. I never could though. The reason, Bert told me, was because the Squashy Tomato Face Man lived up those stairs and he wasn't particuarly a huge fan of children. He was a bit mean and grumpy because of his unfortunate squashy tomato face. He must've been ridiculed and bullied as a child and chose to live as a hermit. I couldn't find any pictures of him on the web but if you can imagine a tall skinny man with a squashy tomato for a face and a folorn vibe about him, that;s your guy.
The scariest legend about these parts is much closer to home though. It's a Dreen legend specifically located in the attic of this house. When I was younger and I came to visit Bert's parents I used to hover by the attic stairs. Up those stairs were great treasures. Bert's childhood toys. Rocking horses, toy cars, diggers, soldiers. All of them longing to be played with. I never could though. The reason, Bert told me, was because the Squashy Tomato Face Man lived up those stairs and he wasn't particuarly a huge fan of children. He was a bit mean and grumpy because of his unfortunate squashy tomato face. He must've been ridiculed and bullied as a child and chose to live as a hermit. I couldn't find any pictures of him on the web but if you can imagine a tall skinny man with a squashy tomato for a face and a folorn vibe about him, that;s your guy.
Saturday, June 14, 2008
Dead Bird Season
A number of weeks ago I started to notice a lot of dead birds. I'd see them lying at the side of the road on my way to work. One day I saw 3 different dead birds. I couldn't tell you what sort of birds they were 'cos I'm not an ornithologist but there was a black one with a speckled chest and a big one that was a fawny (or is it fauny Mels?) colour and I can't remember what the other one was.
I mentioned this to Dirt Bird (purely coincidental that it's dead bird season and her name is Dirt Bird) and she thought it sounded ominous. I wondered how they were dying. Maybe bigger birds were killing them or they fell out of trees. The wicked Holly Cat caught a babby robin last week. She didn't kill it but she left it in a state of shock.
Then it was all quiet on the dead bird front.I thought the season was over until this morning I heard a small thud off the window. I looked out to see a tiny wee bird lying on the ground. It probably died instantly from a broken neck. Poor wee thing. When will the carnage end?
I mentioned this to Dirt Bird (purely coincidental that it's dead bird season and her name is Dirt Bird) and she thought it sounded ominous. I wondered how they were dying. Maybe bigger birds were killing them or they fell out of trees. The wicked Holly Cat caught a babby robin last week. She didn't kill it but she left it in a state of shock.
Then it was all quiet on the dead bird front.I thought the season was over until this morning I heard a small thud off the window. I looked out to see a tiny wee bird lying on the ground. It probably died instantly from a broken neck. Poor wee thing. When will the carnage end?
Friday, June 13, 2008
Locked Oot
This morning I waited outside the office for an hour. I have no keys and The Boss was nowhere to be seen. I called him and said:
Well, having a busy morning I take it?
He replied:
Ah fuck Ah forgot all aboot ye.
I am clearly a valuable asset to his company.
But who cares? It's the weekend!! Hurrah for the day of Fri!
Well, having a busy morning I take it?
He replied:
Ah fuck Ah forgot all aboot ye.
I am clearly a valuable asset to his company.
But who cares? It's the weekend!! Hurrah for the day of Fri!
Thursday, June 12, 2008
Ken Boone or Ken Boone?
It's a tough contest between Bert and I over who is the laziest. Rather than washing the chopping board I turned it over only to find that Bert had beaten me to it. He ranks high on the lazometre.
A certain Mr. Salt Face has asked me some questions:
If you were a clown what would your name be?
My name would be Hairy Head Hannah and my clown wig would be blue.
If you could wake up anywhere where would it be?
I'd wake up in a meercat colony with meercats nibbling my ears.
What's your personal theme song?
I'd like to say Wonder Woman but I don't wear satin tights. After that it would be the Brookside theme.
Where do you see yourself in 10 years?
Probably residing in some random country getting drunk with the locals.
What's your favourite pasta shape?
Either the bows or the twirly ones. Them tube ones are the worst.
So there you go Salt Face. I am impressed with your question-asking skills although suspect it may have been computer-generated. You are, after all, the boy who asks questions like Do you prefer Def Leppard or Iron Maiden?, Do you prefer Paul Daniels or Cliff Richards, Do you prefer Ken Boone or Ken Boone?
As always my answers are Def Leppard or Iron Maiden depending on which day of the week it is and what colour pants I'm wearing, Cliff Richards because he's Cliff Richards and who the hell is Ken Boone?
A certain Mr. Salt Face has asked me some questions:
If you were a clown what would your name be?
My name would be Hairy Head Hannah and my clown wig would be blue.
If you could wake up anywhere where would it be?
I'd wake up in a meercat colony with meercats nibbling my ears.
What's your personal theme song?
I'd like to say Wonder Woman but I don't wear satin tights. After that it would be the Brookside theme.
Where do you see yourself in 10 years?
Probably residing in some random country getting drunk with the locals.
What's your favourite pasta shape?
Either the bows or the twirly ones. Them tube ones are the worst.
So there you go Salt Face. I am impressed with your question-asking skills although suspect it may have been computer-generated. You are, after all, the boy who asks questions like Do you prefer Def Leppard or Iron Maiden?, Do you prefer Paul Daniels or Cliff Richards, Do you prefer Ken Boone or Ken Boone?
As always my answers are Def Leppard or Iron Maiden depending on which day of the week it is and what colour pants I'm wearing, Cliff Richards because he's Cliff Richards and who the hell is Ken Boone?
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
Good Times With Mel
I had planned to go out for a couple of drinks on Friday night and come home at a sensible hour so I could be up early for my trip to the 'Dam with Mel. As it turned out I came home at 2 in the morning, steaming drunk and all sensibilities chucked out the window. Luckily when I woke up on Saturday morning I wasn't hungover...because I was still drunk. I didn't actually know what I had packed until I got to my hotel.
The sun was shining when I arrived in Holland and Mels was waiting for me as planned. We drank coffee, smoked and chatted. I was still drunk and Mels was sleep deprived. We did well considering. The next few days were spent chilling, eating disgusting amounts of sugar in many beautiful forms (chocolate, waffles, jamin pick-a-mix), laughing and the occasional walking around in circles ('tis one of my favourite hobbies). All in all an excellent trip. Good times to add to the list of Good Times With Mel. May there be many more.
The sun was shining when I arrived in Holland and Mels was waiting for me as planned. We drank coffee, smoked and chatted. I was still drunk and Mels was sleep deprived. We did well considering. The next few days were spent chilling, eating disgusting amounts of sugar in many beautiful forms (chocolate, waffles, jamin pick-a-mix), laughing and the occasional walking around in circles ('tis one of my favourite hobbies). All in all an excellent trip. Good times to add to the list of Good Times With Mel. May there be many more.
Friday, June 06, 2008
Full Circle
At 6 O'Clock they came and took you away. I only cried one tear and it fell into a puddle. They mingled and a new being was created. A being that was soft yet strong, cruel but kind, brave but scared. It said yes when it meant no and no when it meant yes. Cried when it was happy and laughed when it was sad. It was blind but saw eveything, could hear but heard nothing. It was tortured and so it tortured. But only itself, until one day it split back into two. The puddle lay on the ground and the tear rolled back up my face and into my eye. At 6 O'Clock you came back.
Wednesday, June 04, 2008
The Orrs Take A Spin In The Van
There are just some people in this world who get theselves into situations. Bert is one such person. Many moons ago I was visiting my dad in stoke. Bert was due to pick me up at Belfast International Airport but, of course, didn't he go to Belfast City Airport. So there I waited at International wondering where the hll Bert was and there bert waited at City Airport wondering where I was. While he was there an announcement was made over the intercom for a Mr. Orr to make his way to reception. So off Bert went fearing the worst and thinking the reason I wasn't there was beacause of some horrific plane crash.
So off Bert went and was met by a man wearing a suit. This man asked Bert if he was Mr. Orr to which Bert said yes and then he preceded to ramble at Bert about something totally unrelated to plane crashes. At this point Bert twigged that he wasn't the Mr.Orr this gentleman was looking for.
With still no sign of me Bert came to the logical conclusion that he was at the wrong airport (these were the days before everyone had mobile phones). Bert's ma Pearlie had come along with him for the ride and off they raced to Belfast International. It was between the two airports that Bert took a corner too fast and the van turned 180 degrees in the middle of the road. Pearlie remarked, That was a nice wee spin you took me on.
So ever since this fateful day Bert gets a little panicked when he has to do an airport run. You can hardly blame him.
So off Bert went and was met by a man wearing a suit. This man asked Bert if he was Mr. Orr to which Bert said yes and then he preceded to ramble at Bert about something totally unrelated to plane crashes. At this point Bert twigged that he wasn't the Mr.Orr this gentleman was looking for.
With still no sign of me Bert came to the logical conclusion that he was at the wrong airport (these were the days before everyone had mobile phones). Bert's ma Pearlie had come along with him for the ride and off they raced to Belfast International. It was between the two airports that Bert took a corner too fast and the van turned 180 degrees in the middle of the road. Pearlie remarked, That was a nice wee spin you took me on.
So ever since this fateful day Bert gets a little panicked when he has to do an airport run. You can hardly blame him.
Monday, June 02, 2008
The Woodwind Party
The party last week was pretty sophisticated compared to most of our shindigs. Not a single drop of blood fell from anybody's head the whole night although a couple of people may have suffered some adverse effects from the buns I made. The saxophone was brought out along with the claro to see if we had any potential jazz musicians amongst us. I think the general consensus was that we didn't. The Milky Bar Kid told Nelly he'd never been to a woodwind party before slyly whispering to Dirt Bird It's like at special school when they get the instruments out to play. Not very P.C. Milky Bar Boy but funny all the same.
Mrs. Banjo agreed that the jazz workshop session was pretty bad but where was Mr. Banjo to serenade us? Hovering over the sink looking a greener shade of pale. Actually, music was a bit of an issue the whole night. Ploppy Pants was playing bouncer at the stereo and kept switching off my music to put on his old-man-diddly-dee music. I had to set Dirt Bird on him but he couldn't hear her over the stereo.
But that was all last weekend and I can't remember too much anymore other than the highlight of my week was meeting someone called Rusty purely for the fact I think that Rusty is a great name to say. I have also discovered that using the word 'horrendous' to describe a 50 year-old chiropodist is not a good idea as he is likely to threaten you with the broomstick he's holding. I guess I just have that effect on people.
Mrs. Banjo agreed that the jazz workshop session was pretty bad but where was Mr. Banjo to serenade us? Hovering over the sink looking a greener shade of pale. Actually, music was a bit of an issue the whole night. Ploppy Pants was playing bouncer at the stereo and kept switching off my music to put on his old-man-diddly-dee music. I had to set Dirt Bird on him but he couldn't hear her over the stereo.
But that was all last weekend and I can't remember too much anymore other than the highlight of my week was meeting someone called Rusty purely for the fact I think that Rusty is a great name to say. I have also discovered that using the word 'horrendous' to describe a 50 year-old chiropodist is not a good idea as he is likely to threaten you with the broomstick he's holding. I guess I just have that effect on people.
Saturday, May 24, 2008
Clint on Trees
I think Weeping Willows are lovely. So lovely that I want to plant one. But it's always good to talk to people about things before you do them so I asked Bert's old school chum Clint who happens to know a thing or two about horticulture. I said to him:
Clint, do you know anything atall about Weeping Willows?
Aye, says he, Take nothing to do with them!
And then he proceeded to rant for about half an hour on the nuisances of Weeping Willows. So what kind of tree would Clint have me plant? When driving down to the Rare Breeds Show in Omagh, Clint commented,
That's a lovely tree.
And why's that Clint. Why is it a lovely tree?
It's that round.
Clint, do you know anything atall about Weeping Willows?
Aye, says he, Take nothing to do with them!
And then he proceeded to rant for about half an hour on the nuisances of Weeping Willows. So what kind of tree would Clint have me plant? When driving down to the Rare Breeds Show in Omagh, Clint commented,
That's a lovely tree.
And why's that Clint. Why is it a lovely tree?
It's that round.
Friday, May 23, 2008
A Wee Story
There was a young lass called Eliza. She decided she would make some special butter and with that special butter she would make some buns. She asked her stepfather Barnardo how to make the special butter. He told her, a wee bit o' this and a wee bit o' that and boil it all together. Eliza followed his instructions closely but what Barnardo had failed to tell her was that if she used a plastic spatula to stir the butter the spatula would melt. Whoops! But it was only a little bit and Eliza decided to continue making her special butter. And very well it turned out too.
When the butter was ready Eliza started to make the buns. She had made sure she had all the ingredients she needed. Barnardo had advised her, when making the buns, to use half of the special butter and half normal butter. But when it came to it Eliza had realised she'd used all the butter to make special butter. Oh dear!
She carried on regardless. The mixture was made, the buns were baking and Barnardo took to licking the bowl with great relish. We all agreed that the buns would be very tasty. When they were ready Barnardo didn't want any as he was already sat in a stupour. Eliza's mum had one and Eliza had one and some crumbs and some more crumbs. Then Eliza wrote this wee story about her special butter.
When the butter was ready Eliza started to make the buns. She had made sure she had all the ingredients she needed. Barnardo had advised her, when making the buns, to use half of the special butter and half normal butter. But when it came to it Eliza had realised she'd used all the butter to make special butter. Oh dear!
She carried on regardless. The mixture was made, the buns were baking and Barnardo took to licking the bowl with great relish. We all agreed that the buns would be very tasty. When they were ready Barnardo didn't want any as he was already sat in a stupour. Eliza's mum had one and Eliza had one and some crumbs and some more crumbs. Then Eliza wrote this wee story about her special butter.
Saturday, May 17, 2008
Inspired By Nelly
I totally stole this idea from Nelly but it was a nice idea to steal. 10 things that make me happy:
1. Walking dogs on a sunny day through the forest.
2. Laughing so hard that it hurts.
3. Putting smiles on people's faces.
4. Singing and dancing to my favourite songs.
5. Climbing trees.
6. Exploring countries and places I've never been to before.
7. Letting my imagination run wild.
8. Special days with my family.
9. Crazy days with my friends.
10. **f**h ***re**i* **w**t*e ***
If you can work out no. 10 you are very clever indeed. Of course there are many more things that make me happy but these are the ones that stick out. The object of the game now is to do all 10 things in 1 day, which could be difficult although not impossible. Except for No. 10 maybe!
1. Walking dogs on a sunny day through the forest.
2. Laughing so hard that it hurts.
3. Putting smiles on people's faces.
4. Singing and dancing to my favourite songs.
5. Climbing trees.
6. Exploring countries and places I've never been to before.
7. Letting my imagination run wild.
8. Special days with my family.
9. Crazy days with my friends.
10. **f**h ***re**i* **w**t*e ***
If you can work out no. 10 you are very clever indeed. Of course there are many more things that make me happy but these are the ones that stick out. The object of the game now is to do all 10 things in 1 day, which could be difficult although not impossible. Except for No. 10 maybe!
Thursday, May 15, 2008
Kentucky Fried Rooster
Bert and I have just been trying to remember all the reservoir dogs characters, who played them and which one was which. It hurt my head so much thinking about it that I had look it up. This all stemmed from a converstaion we had about how many different colours are surnames. I never knew that blue was one.
Another thing I never knew, or ever really thought about until I came home one Sunday evening to see Herbert the evil eye-pecking rooster dead, plucked, roasted and sitting on the bench, is that we eat male animals. Since then I haven't quite felt the same way about eating poultry. Mum and Bert think I'm very naive for having always believed that any chicken I eat is actually chicken but the lovely Mels seemed to be quite shocked by this revelation as well.
The wind obviously heard I was gonna kick it's ass because the weather's been bliss for days now. It was so warm in bed the other night I dreamt I was back in Thailand. I remember saying it's so good to be back in this heat. Apart from the warmth it was nothing like Thailand. Speaking of which, although I really miss being there and I still want more adventures, it's amazing what being away from home can do to make you appreciate it*
*Don't worry mum, I don't plan to live with you and Bert for ever. I am a girl with itchy feet after all.
Another thing I never knew, or ever really thought about until I came home one Sunday evening to see Herbert the evil eye-pecking rooster dead, plucked, roasted and sitting on the bench, is that we eat male animals. Since then I haven't quite felt the same way about eating poultry. Mum and Bert think I'm very naive for having always believed that any chicken I eat is actually chicken but the lovely Mels seemed to be quite shocked by this revelation as well.
The wind obviously heard I was gonna kick it's ass because the weather's been bliss for days now. It was so warm in bed the other night I dreamt I was back in Thailand. I remember saying it's so good to be back in this heat. Apart from the warmth it was nothing like Thailand. Speaking of which, although I really miss being there and I still want more adventures, it's amazing what being away from home can do to make you appreciate it*
*Don't worry mum, I don't plan to live with you and Bert for ever. I am a girl with itchy feet after all.
Friday, May 09, 2008
Raiders Of The Lost Ark
I blame f**ebook for my recent lack of blogging. It seems I can sum up my whole life in one sentence, and so I do, by reguarly updating my profile status. It seems my mind is not clear enough to write.
Having said that, good things have been happening. My boss bought me a scratch card for my birthday and I won £2. I bought another one and one £4. I bought another 2 and one £8. You can kind of see the logic behind my thinking. When Mel and I went to town on Monday I bought 4 cards and we scratched them all as we drank coffee in the beer garden. I won £52 altogether. I also found £20 on the way to work the other day. They call me lucky Hannah. They don't really. But they should.
This post is brief because it's Friday night and I have a date with a bottle of Jamesons.
Having said that, good things have been happening. My boss bought me a scratch card for my birthday and I won £2. I bought another one and one £4. I bought another 2 and one £8. You can kind of see the logic behind my thinking. When Mel and I went to town on Monday I bought 4 cards and we scratched them all as we drank coffee in the beer garden. I won £52 altogether. I also found £20 on the way to work the other day. They call me lucky Hannah. They don't really. But they should.
This post is brief because it's Friday night and I have a date with a bottle of Jamesons.
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
Caffeine Or Caffiene? I Just Don't Know
I'm forcing myself to write this post. I blame facebook for my laziness. That and my being lazy. I think the weekend has a part to play too. Nelly and I went to visit Hails on saturday morning and overdosed on caffeine. She's a lovly girl who thoroughly deserves the adventure she's about to embark on. I first read her blog in the staffroom at school in Thailand. Even though I was a million miles from home, the mental image of Wull Yum and his dices with death had me in stitches.
I went out on Saturday night to celebrate my getting-older-one-day-closer-to-death day. I went out with one of the Scabby Birds Escort Agency representatives who successfully got me very wasted and who completely humoured me when I asked funny questions. Sunday was Dying Day. Monday morning was Hell Morning. By Tuesday things were looking a bit brighter, which brings us to Wednesday. The sun is shining and things are once again fluffy.
I went out on Saturday night to celebrate my getting-older-one-day-closer-to-death day. I went out with one of the Scabby Birds Escort Agency representatives who successfully got me very wasted and who completely humoured me when I asked funny questions. Sunday was Dying Day. Monday morning was Hell Morning. By Tuesday things were looking a bit brighter, which brings us to Wednesday. The sun is shining and things are once again fluffy.
Friday, April 18, 2008
Scabby Birds Escort Agency
Is your name Joe? Are you average? Are you an average Joe? Are you tired of going to your friend's birthdays and weddings without a date? Would you consider stepping out with an escort girl but feel that these agencies only cater for a certain type of clientele and that a blonde Posh Spice wannabe swinging off your arm might have some people guessing that she wasn't a real girlfriend?
I am now proud to present Scabby Birds Escort Agency Inc. Your own personal escort can be anything you want her to be; goth, hippy, emo, grunge, punk, or just plain grotty. For Scabby Birds nothing's too scabby. You can choose from several lovely ladies including Dirt Bird, Mucky Megs and, for a limited time only, at a special discounted rate, Hootchin Hannah.
Sorry Gravy Dave and Psychedelic Lee but this picture was ideal for my advertising campaign.
I am now proud to present Scabby Birds Escort Agency Inc. Your own personal escort can be anything you want her to be; goth, hippy, emo, grunge, punk, or just plain grotty. For Scabby Birds nothing's too scabby. You can choose from several lovely ladies including Dirt Bird, Mucky Megs and, for a limited time only, at a special discounted rate, Hootchin Hannah.
Sorry Gravy Dave and Psychedelic Lee but this picture was ideal for my advertising campaign.
Friday, March 28, 2008
It Sucks To Be Me
What IS the craic? I'm approaching my 26th birthday and my skin's worse than a 17 year old. I don't understand. I'm eating better than I've eaten in years. I'm dinking less than I've been known to drink at times. I'm not stressed atall so why the adolescent skin? Yes, I'm young at heart and have been known to act like a foolish teenager but is this the price I have to pay for clinging desperately to my youth? Apparently so. It sucks but even though zits are for losers I'd rather have bad skin than a mortgage. However, it doesn't change the fact that, not only do I have bad skin, I'm going to be a 26 year old with bad skin. As a wise woman once said It sucks to be you.
Monday, March 24, 2008
Long Beach All Dubstar Struck
The best gig I ever went to was in Stoke. The Long Beach All Dubstars featuring former memers of Sublime. I couldn't miss it because Sublime are my favourite band and I'd never got to see them due to the lead singer, Bradley Nowell's, untimely death. The gig was amazing. The band did a mixture of their own tunes and classic Sublime. I may as well have been at a Sublime gig as it was the closest I'd ever get.
After their peformance I accosted the lead singer on his way to the toilet. The venue was in a small night club so it was easy to get upclose and personal. Which was to be my downfall. I congratulated the singer on his sterling job. I then told him he sounded just like Bradley Nowell. He looked embarassed and mumbled that he could never be as good as Brad. I was all star struck and started babbling and tried to make excuses for my self by eventually saying But you were in Sublime! He must've thought I was the worst Sublime fan in the world because he said Actually I wasn't in Sublime. The bass player he was in Sublime. I didn't know what to say but luckily Gravy Dave walked past wearing an old skool Nirvana T. Shirt which the singer took a liking to and asked me if I thought Gravy Dave would sell it to him. Oh aye. But he didn't. 'Cos Gravy Dave's not fazed by rock stars.
So the moral of the story is, if you get star struck it's always good to know who the star is and, on the same note, it's always good to know who you're talking to before you actually talk to them.
After their peformance I accosted the lead singer on his way to the toilet. The venue was in a small night club so it was easy to get upclose and personal. Which was to be my downfall. I congratulated the singer on his sterling job. I then told him he sounded just like Bradley Nowell. He looked embarassed and mumbled that he could never be as good as Brad. I was all star struck and started babbling and tried to make excuses for my self by eventually saying But you were in Sublime! He must've thought I was the worst Sublime fan in the world because he said Actually I wasn't in Sublime. The bass player he was in Sublime. I didn't know what to say but luckily Gravy Dave walked past wearing an old skool Nirvana T. Shirt which the singer took a liking to and asked me if I thought Gravy Dave would sell it to him. Oh aye. But he didn't. 'Cos Gravy Dave's not fazed by rock stars.
So the moral of the story is, if you get star struck it's always good to know who the star is and, on the same note, it's always good to know who you're talking to before you actually talk to them.
Thursday, March 20, 2008
Fecking Reader's Digest
At work today I was bored. I'd run out of jobs so I checked my email to make a bit of time go by. There was nothing new or exciting so I opened up an email sent by Reader's Digest offering Easter giveaways. Y'see, I'm exactly the sort of person they prey on. Bored, not really paying attention and so therefore dazzled by the pretty lights telling me I'll win thousands. It took all of 1 minute to submit my entry and when I went back to my email I'd already recived confirmatin from them. This is what it said:
Dear Miss Bowyer,
Thank you for sending for THE DRIVER'S TRAVEL ATLAS OF BRITAIN & IRELAND.
Your name has been entered in the draw for a Volkswagen Golf or £15,000 cash and we'll notify you immediately should you win. Your book will be dispatched shortly, along with your bill.
Thank you again for shopping with Reader's Digest.
Yours sincerely,
Reader's Digest Customer Service
What! I had no recollection of agreeing to buy their Driver's atlas of Britain and ireland. For one, I have no desire to travel Britain and Ireland but, most imprtantly, I don't even drive. I went back and did the whole thing again and sure enough there it was on the screen telling me that by entering the competition I was agreeing to buy their book. The dazzling images got me. Watch out for Reader's Digest, they are clever, very clever.
Monday, March 17, 2008
Free The Meecats
I don't think I've ever been so neglectful of my poor wee blog. What with my new found career in felling trees and my drunken activist ploys to rescue meercats and, of course, the wee scrabulous tournament, I just don't have the time to update. There are tales to tell but I think I might also be suffering from writer's block and I can't force myslf to write just for the sake of writing.
Perhaps I should get Paddy to take over as typist whilst I lay at my leisure on the sette, eating grapes and smoking. Maybe it would help the creativity to flow.
But just because I've lost the ability to write does not mean that I'm not happy. I'm currently taking great pleasure in watching my bank balance grow and dreaming about the endless possibilites of exotic advenures I could undertake. There's treasure out there y'know.
Perhaps I should get Paddy to take over as typist whilst I lay at my leisure on the sette, eating grapes and smoking. Maybe it would help the creativity to flow.
But just because I've lost the ability to write does not mean that I'm not happy. I'm currently taking great pleasure in watching my bank balance grow and dreaming about the endless possibilites of exotic advenures I could undertake. There's treasure out there y'know.
Saturday, February 23, 2008
Sniper Skunk Story
And now for a wee story about Pepe Le Peu. Pepe got his name because he likes to speak French, he loves the laydees and, one day, he wore a jumper with a black stripe down the back making him resemble a skunk.
I've known Pepe for years but never that well. I knew him from Ballymena but he also went to the same university as me. One night we went back to his to continue after-hours drinking. It was a perfectly civilised night where we bantered about nothing in particular. That was until it got to about 2 O'Clock and Pepe started to get overexcited.
We were talking about the 'troubles' in Norn Iron. He'd lived in Belfast and liked to talk about knee-cappings and such like. I don't. The conversation grew rather serious. I can't remember exactly as I was a tad inebriated but at some point Pepe started to tell me that he had been employed as a sniper. Now really alarm bells should've been ringing for me but I'm a gullible little thing and see no reason why people would lie about such things.
Anyway, it was his words I shot people for money as he remorsefully put his head in his hands that made me stop and say What The Fuck! At which point Pepe looked at me and said What? I reminded him that he'd just told me he'd shot people for money and that was pretty crazy. Pepe denied all knowledge of saying anything of the sort, making me even more concerned. He refused to admit he had just confessed to being a sniper. I didn't like the situation so I left. It wasn't until the next day when I replayed what happened to mutual friends and they laughed their heads off that I realised Pepe had not shot people and that I was the biggest sucker in the world.
I huffed with him for about 6 months after that. We are good friends and he would never dream of saying something like that to me, although he does still have an unhealthy fear of assassination.
I've known Pepe for years but never that well. I knew him from Ballymena but he also went to the same university as me. One night we went back to his to continue after-hours drinking. It was a perfectly civilised night where we bantered about nothing in particular. That was until it got to about 2 O'Clock and Pepe started to get overexcited.
We were talking about the 'troubles' in Norn Iron. He'd lived in Belfast and liked to talk about knee-cappings and such like. I don't. The conversation grew rather serious. I can't remember exactly as I was a tad inebriated but at some point Pepe started to tell me that he had been employed as a sniper. Now really alarm bells should've been ringing for me but I'm a gullible little thing and see no reason why people would lie about such things.
Anyway, it was his words I shot people for money as he remorsefully put his head in his hands that made me stop and say What The Fuck! At which point Pepe looked at me and said What? I reminded him that he'd just told me he'd shot people for money and that was pretty crazy. Pepe denied all knowledge of saying anything of the sort, making me even more concerned. He refused to admit he had just confessed to being a sniper. I didn't like the situation so I left. It wasn't until the next day when I replayed what happened to mutual friends and they laughed their heads off that I realised Pepe had not shot people and that I was the biggest sucker in the world.
I huffed with him for about 6 months after that. We are good friends and he would never dream of saying something like that to me, although he does still have an unhealthy fear of assassination.
Thursday, February 21, 2008
When I Were A Lass
If, like me, you were a child of the 80's (and from this neck of the woods) you will be lucky enough to remember such delights as;
Nerds, dweebs and runts, Mojos (spearmint, strawberry and cola flavoured), shellsuits, bomber jackets, NASA jackets (nice and safe attitude? Oh, so that's why you're beating my face in), neon shoelaces, New Kids on the Block, Bryan 'fu*king' Adams being at No.1 for a million years with that song, Kylie and Jason mania, The Gummy Bears, Trapdoor, Moomins, He-Man, Thundercats, SuperGran, Eldorado, trolls (we had them at the end of our bed, we had them on top of our pencils, hell, we had them everywhere), Secret bars, Vice Versa's, Chocolate flavour crisps and pretzels, push pops, bum bags, combats and hair perms. I thought that Walnut Whips should be added to the lists but I saw yesterday that they still exist. But who they hell is buying them?
I bet everyone wishes they were a child of the 80's now.
Nerds, dweebs and runts, Mojos (spearmint, strawberry and cola flavoured), shellsuits, bomber jackets, NASA jackets (nice and safe attitude? Oh, so that's why you're beating my face in), neon shoelaces, New Kids on the Block, Bryan 'fu*king' Adams being at No.1 for a million years with that song, Kylie and Jason mania, The Gummy Bears, Trapdoor, Moomins, He-Man, Thundercats, SuperGran, Eldorado, trolls (we had them at the end of our bed, we had them on top of our pencils, hell, we had them everywhere), Secret bars, Vice Versa's, Chocolate flavour crisps and pretzels, push pops, bum bags, combats and hair perms. I thought that Walnut Whips should be added to the lists but I saw yesterday that they still exist. But who they hell is buying them?
I bet everyone wishes they were a child of the 80's now.
Sunday, February 17, 2008
A Very Handsome Paddy
*WARNING: EXPLICIT CONTENT Paddy has a very foul mouth*
When Hannah told me I'd been tagged I had all kinds of bad feelings about it but then she explained all's I had to do was write about 6 of my most endearing qualities...easy!
1. I am KING of the tuggers. Jaws of steel, me. Fucking handsome with it too. I was going to do it professionally but thought I had enough pressure in my life keeping the 2 bitcher dogs and that fucking hoorcat in line.
2. I'm fussy about food but I am rather partial to a wee taste of cow shit. Bert and Clint shout at me but Rosie Dog says it'll make my coat nice and glossy.
3. Bitchers just don't do it for me. Ever since losing my balls in a horrific accident (in which I'm told I was very very brave) I only lust for men. They smell like fine wine and I love the feel of their strong hands petting my back.
4. I fucking HATE cats. They smell like rancid pus infested boils, they taste like jizz from an elephant with a bad case of elephantitis and they sound like wailing banshees with daggers in their eyes.
5. I sleep-woof. Or so Hannah tells me but she says I don't sound atall scary. She says I sound like a big baby which is why I'm inclined not to believe her.
6. When I get very excited I sneeze. The more excited I am the louder the sneeze. I have nasal problems.
So there you are. 6 reason why I am Paddy The Handsomest Dog In Ireland. Apparently I'm supposed to tag some other folk but I only know Boonie, who's already done it and Rosie but she's far too boring these days. Fat lazy bitch.
When Hannah told me I'd been tagged I had all kinds of bad feelings about it but then she explained all's I had to do was write about 6 of my most endearing qualities...easy!
1. I am KING of the tuggers. Jaws of steel, me. Fucking handsome with it too. I was going to do it professionally but thought I had enough pressure in my life keeping the 2 bitcher dogs and that fucking hoorcat in line.
2. I'm fussy about food but I am rather partial to a wee taste of cow shit. Bert and Clint shout at me but Rosie Dog says it'll make my coat nice and glossy.
3. Bitchers just don't do it for me. Ever since losing my balls in a horrific accident (in which I'm told I was very very brave) I only lust for men. They smell like fine wine and I love the feel of their strong hands petting my back.
4. I fucking HATE cats. They smell like rancid pus infested boils, they taste like jizz from an elephant with a bad case of elephantitis and they sound like wailing banshees with daggers in their eyes.
5. I sleep-woof. Or so Hannah tells me but she says I don't sound atall scary. She says I sound like a big baby which is why I'm inclined not to believe her.
6. When I get very excited I sneeze. The more excited I am the louder the sneeze. I have nasal problems.
So there you are. 6 reason why I am Paddy The Handsomest Dog In Ireland. Apparently I'm supposed to tag some other folk but I only know Boonie, who's already done it and Rosie but she's far too boring these days. Fat lazy bitch.
Thursday, February 14, 2008
Good Old Fashioned Post
PrOcraStinaTion. There is a reason I'm posting about posting. It's because there has been something I've needed to post (via Royal Mail as opposed to cyberspace) for quite some time now. It concerns two people who I very much care about. But... I suffer a terrible affliction. One that renders me physically incapable of posting something. Why? I don't know. I have always posted things late, sometimes not at all. There are so many different hurdles to overcome when you want to post a letter. First you need an address. I'm not good with those due to the fact I never keep an address book. The resulting consequence is that any time I want to post something I have to call someone to get the address. Chore.
Then there are the stamps. I often have them (because I so rarely get past the address stage) but if I don't it seems like another 3 week battle to get hold of some. Either I forget or I'm nowhere near the shop. If your only posting a letter as soon as you have the stamps you're good to go but if you're sending a parcel then you inevitably have to deal with the dreaded post office. This is the most difficult stage for me to get past. Firstly, there's not enough of them. Secondly, they're never open and, thirdly, they're full of old people sending a million parcels to their grandchildren in Timbucktoo.
Funnily enough, when it comes to finally posting something I find nothing more satisfying than popping something in a letter box. I like to hear the noise of it hitting all the other bits of mail. I think it's because once it's in the box it's no longer my responsibility. I hope the people who should've already recieved my mail know who they are. I promise I will send it very soon.
Then there are the stamps. I often have them (because I so rarely get past the address stage) but if I don't it seems like another 3 week battle to get hold of some. Either I forget or I'm nowhere near the shop. If your only posting a letter as soon as you have the stamps you're good to go but if you're sending a parcel then you inevitably have to deal with the dreaded post office. This is the most difficult stage for me to get past. Firstly, there's not enough of them. Secondly, they're never open and, thirdly, they're full of old people sending a million parcels to their grandchildren in Timbucktoo.
Funnily enough, when it comes to finally posting something I find nothing more satisfying than popping something in a letter box. I like to hear the noise of it hitting all the other bits of mail. I think it's because once it's in the box it's no longer my responsibility. I hope the people who should've already recieved my mail know who they are. I promise I will send it very soon.
Sunday, February 10, 2008
Catching Up
I'm so busy not doing the things I'm supposed to do that I'm having to resort to summing up the past few weeks in point form:
* The new job is going well. I can't complain too much when The Boss tries to force feed me chocolate and threatens to do the same with wine.
* According to me, when I'm drunk, our water tastes like nectar from the tap. According to Swisser, when she's sober, our water tastes vile, like there's chemicals in it. Who's right? You decide.
* The funniest conversation I heard this week was between Pearlie (Bert's 82 yr old mum) and Hubert (her 50 something yr old toy boy lover). When asked by Hubert how she's doing, Pearlie says:
Well, I felt like I could be sick tonight but it never came, well, it came a wee bit and my
teeth flew out but I gathered them up and that was that.
* I've all of a sudden become a good cook. My secret is to not follow a recipe, pay no heed to measurments, don't bother to look at a clock or time how long it's been cooking, throw everything together and stare lovingly at it until you think it might be ready. Works every time.
* The stupidest question I've heard all week. Whilst intensely studying an advertisement for Disney character pendants (found in Take A Break magazine for those of you wishing to purchase such items), Bert asks:
Was there one of the seven dwarves called Dave?
Yes Bert, the seven dwarves were called Sleepy, Grumpy, Happy, Sneezy, Dopey, Bashful and Dave. But if you put your glasses on Bert I think you'll find he's actually called Doc.
* The new job is going well. I can't complain too much when The Boss tries to force feed me chocolate and threatens to do the same with wine.
* According to me, when I'm drunk, our water tastes like nectar from the tap. According to Swisser, when she's sober, our water tastes vile, like there's chemicals in it. Who's right? You decide.
* The funniest conversation I heard this week was between Pearlie (Bert's 82 yr old mum) and Hubert (her 50 something yr old toy boy lover). When asked by Hubert how she's doing, Pearlie says:
Well, I felt like I could be sick tonight but it never came, well, it came a wee bit and my
teeth flew out but I gathered them up and that was that.
* I've all of a sudden become a good cook. My secret is to not follow a recipe, pay no heed to measurments, don't bother to look at a clock or time how long it's been cooking, throw everything together and stare lovingly at it until you think it might be ready. Works every time.
* The stupidest question I've heard all week. Whilst intensely studying an advertisement for Disney character pendants (found in Take A Break magazine for those of you wishing to purchase such items), Bert asks:
Was there one of the seven dwarves called Dave?
Yes Bert, the seven dwarves were called Sleepy, Grumpy, Happy, Sneezy, Dopey, Bashful and Dave. But if you put your glasses on Bert I think you'll find he's actually called Doc.
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
Help My Hair
It occurred to me that I haven't had a new hair style for many, many moons. It's been cut but always to the same length and style it was before. So I put it to you, friends, family and random strangers, to help me decide on a new hair do. I have come up with some options so all you have to do is pick one. Whichever one gets the most votes I promise* that it will be the hair style I choose:
a) The Fringe - This is a high maitenence style for someone as lazy as me.
I could end up with a fringe that covers most of my face
(hey, I'm not saying this is a bad thing)
b) The 'Posh Spice' - I have no actual desire to look like Posh Spice but I
can be rest assured that no matter how hard I try I will never look like Posh Spice (phew!)
c) The 'Sinead O'Connor' - For those of you who don't know, the 'Sinead' is a skinhead. Perfect
for someone who doesn't give a shit, like me.
d) The Perm - Surely these bad boys are due a comeback?
e) Hair Extensions - I've never had hair I could sit on or hit people in the face with when I
turn my head suddenly. Perhaps 2008 will be the year my dream
comes true.
* This is obviously a blatant lie as I would never get a 'Sinead' because it's too cold.
a) The Fringe - This is a high maitenence style for someone as lazy as me.
I could end up with a fringe that covers most of my face
(hey, I'm not saying this is a bad thing)
b) The 'Posh Spice' - I have no actual desire to look like Posh Spice but I
can be rest assured that no matter how hard I try I will never look like Posh Spice (phew!)
c) The 'Sinead O'Connor' - For those of you who don't know, the 'Sinead' is a skinhead. Perfect
for someone who doesn't give a shit, like me.
d) The Perm - Surely these bad boys are due a comeback?
e) Hair Extensions - I've never had hair I could sit on or hit people in the face with when I
turn my head suddenly. Perhaps 2008 will be the year my dream
comes true.
* This is obviously a blatant lie as I would never get a 'Sinead' because it's too cold.
Wednesday, January 16, 2008
Laugh And The World Laughs At You
There are many good things in life. One of those good things is laughter. If I could laugh all day long I'd be a happy girl but there just isn't enough amusing stimuli.
When I have a lot of time on my hands to think, I think. I think about such things as laughing and why we do it. I know we do it because we find something funny and it tickles us but how do we come to have a sense of humour in the first place? At what age does our sense of humour begin to devlelop? Are humans born with a sense of humour or is it something which is developed by the environment around us?
Our taste in humour is very much like our interest in different types of music, films, books and art. Some people may share a sense of humour, others may clash over what they find funny but most people will agree that the ability to find things funny is a very important part of being human. If you were to scour through a magazine you would notice that everyone who is looking for love through personal ads is looking for someone with a GSOH (good sense of humour). The problem though is that most of us like to think we have a GSOH. You could be a woman looking for love and your idea of what's funny is French and Saunders or Fry and Laurie. The young man who replies to your ad thinks he has a GSOH because he laughs hysterically at Jackass and thinks Jonny Knoxville is a cominc genius. He thinks there's nothing funnier than watching students burn their pubes with lighters. Do you see the problem here?
Anyway, in honour of the beauty of laughing and the fun of making lists I have decided to compose a list of things that make me laugh. It is not a list of things I find funny but things that make me laugh, whether I want to or not:
1. Homer Simpson and Peter from Family Guy - these pair are geniuses when it comes to
dealing with difficult situations, Homer says let's go live under the sea and Peter suggests
living in imaginery land where you burp when you fart and you fart when you burp.
2. Bill Bailey - It's the crazed loon look in his eyes that gets me.
3. You've Been Framed - Yes, I know it's shameful but I can't help but laugh when
children/dogs/old people fall over.
4. Hilarious insults - insults are not big, they're not clever and they're not funny but
if they are hilarious I laugh.
5. The Mighty Boosh - I could argue the reason why I laugh at this is because I will laugh at
anything, ANYTHING, that contains the word 'mighty' but my argument would be ineviatbly
flawed.
Laughter is the best medicine. If you are feeling unwell today I prescribe 2 titters, 4 giggles, 1 guffaw and 2 big hearty belly laughs.
When I have a lot of time on my hands to think, I think. I think about such things as laughing and why we do it. I know we do it because we find something funny and it tickles us but how do we come to have a sense of humour in the first place? At what age does our sense of humour begin to devlelop? Are humans born with a sense of humour or is it something which is developed by the environment around us?
Our taste in humour is very much like our interest in different types of music, films, books and art. Some people may share a sense of humour, others may clash over what they find funny but most people will agree that the ability to find things funny is a very important part of being human. If you were to scour through a magazine you would notice that everyone who is looking for love through personal ads is looking for someone with a GSOH (good sense of humour). The problem though is that most of us like to think we have a GSOH. You could be a woman looking for love and your idea of what's funny is French and Saunders or Fry and Laurie. The young man who replies to your ad thinks he has a GSOH because he laughs hysterically at Jackass and thinks Jonny Knoxville is a cominc genius. He thinks there's nothing funnier than watching students burn their pubes with lighters. Do you see the problem here?
Anyway, in honour of the beauty of laughing and the fun of making lists I have decided to compose a list of things that make me laugh. It is not a list of things I find funny but things that make me laugh, whether I want to or not:
1. Homer Simpson and Peter from Family Guy - these pair are geniuses when it comes to
dealing with difficult situations, Homer says let's go live under the sea and Peter suggests
living in imaginery land where you burp when you fart and you fart when you burp.
2. Bill Bailey - It's the crazed loon look in his eyes that gets me.
3. You've Been Framed - Yes, I know it's shameful but I can't help but laugh when
children/dogs/old people fall over.
4. Hilarious insults - insults are not big, they're not clever and they're not funny but
if they are hilarious I laugh.
5. The Mighty Boosh - I could argue the reason why I laugh at this is because I will laugh at
anything, ANYTHING, that contains the word 'mighty' but my argument would be ineviatbly
flawed.
Laughter is the best medicine. If you are feeling unwell today I prescribe 2 titters, 4 giggles, 1 guffaw and 2 big hearty belly laughs.
Tuesday, January 08, 2008
Fun On Ko Samet
So how do you fit 5 people in the one bed....especially when Zac has passed out in the middle of it, diagonally?
This Way
Zac, lying at the bottom of the bed with everyone using him as a foot rest. We had no choice really considering he'd forgot where his hotel room was. He rememembered the number of his room, he could even say it in Thai, but there were so many other hotels he couldn't remember which one was his. Personally, I was all on for leaving him outside our room to fend for himself but my apparently this was considered to be mean.
Mahaila's foot is the nice tanned one on Zac's face. I have a feeling she staged her pose as she was the one who took the photo. She was also the only one who was awake. My feet are the dazzling pure white ones. One foot is on his throat (Mahaila thought I might've possibly killed him in the night) and the other one is on his diaphragm (it's a wonder I didn't kill him). Brad's feet are around Zac's nether regions and Romy's feet are the mozzy bitten ones resting on Zac's left thigh. I slept like a log that night.
Mahaila's foot is the nice tanned one on Zac's face. I have a feeling she staged her pose as she was the one who took the photo. She was also the only one who was awake. My feet are the dazzling pure white ones. One foot is on his throat (Mahaila thought I might've possibly killed him in the night) and the other one is on his diaphragm (it's a wonder I didn't kill him). Brad's feet are around Zac's nether regions and Romy's feet are the mozzy bitten ones resting on Zac's left thigh. I slept like a log that night.
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