One has come to the conclusion that moshing past the age of... say... twenty is a dangerous pastime.
The evidence for this came this morning after Tallulah's birthday/our midsummer party (Many thanks to those of you who came - and those of you who didn't shame on you). Things were going well until about 1 o'clock when I discovered that someones mix tape included 'Walk this way' and the moshing began...
...today I am forced into the position of walking quite carefully so my head doesn't fall off. It hasn't yet but there is always the first time and if it DOES fall off I'm in dire straits as I didn't check on the box whether it was screw or bayonet fitting.
Anyway - to change the subject completely I have had a query from Spanglepuss in which she questions my Welshness -
Well, Spanglepuss, my grandmother was 100% Welsh and both she and my mother are called Gwyneth (My sister was almost called Myfanwy before sanity reigned). I spent a few weeks each summer with my welsh relatives every year until I was 10 and.... erm.... I like cheese and leeks and I once had a good singing voice. Welsh enough for you?
Changing the subject completely again - karma happened very quickly at the weekend after my last post complaining about emo kittens. My workplace was swamped with emo kids on Saturday and I can't help but think that it was organised retribution for my comments. I will therefore stop this thing in it's tracks and never again refer to emo kids again as 'goth-lite' in an effort to avoid an emo jihad.
Sunday 24 June 2007
Sunday 17 June 2007
I'm told it's summer, but....
Greetings faithful reader.
Having been unceremoniously ejected from the not-yet marital bed for taking up too much room (I think that it's perfectly acceptable to emulate a starfish when asleep, don't you?). I thought I'd come and blog a bit.
I don't know what the weather is like in your part of the world but excepting yesterday it's been cold and wet, wet, wet for a week now. And not in a "love is all around" type fashion.
Our water feature was turned into a bog garden at great effort from myself and Tallulah using a big pile of dirt at the bottom of the garden. I was personally hoping to find a body there as the police would presumably have a better chance of tracking down the houses' previous tenants and at some point during the trial I could have raised the question of the cracks in the water feature as they were led away to jail.
The Big Brother avoidance has gone well - I've not watched any of it yet. It's particularly easy to avoid this year as the producers seem to have simply chosen tabloid fodder (I know you won't believe me when I say this, but this wasn't always so - up until the end of series 4 they would put some relatively intelligent people in but the producers found that the lack of idiots was affecting their cash cow).
I have, however, been watching the Apprentice and I have to say that I was shocked at the result. How a goggle-eyed upper class twerp that rents out rooms and lighting equipment to schools and who freezes with fear every five minutes is a better candidate than a hardworking sales manager and single mother I don't understand. I can only assume that Sir Alan needs someone who can speak toff.
Spanglepuss has been kind enough to send me a photograph of a historic condom which she wants me to post, so here it is: http://www.sciencemuseum.org.uk/objects/obstetrics_gynaecology_and_contraception/1989-865.aspx . I'm not sure why I've been sent this and I'm slightly concerned because another faithful reader has sent me a photograph of her (Spanglepuss's) boyfriend's bottom. Is there some kind of message here - a test for a newly engaged man to gauge his gay percentage?
If you're really interested I'd say that my gay percentage is about 20% raising to near 40% if I've been listening to a Russell T Davies podcast as that tends to make me slightly camp and welsh for a few hours (my Welsh percentage is normally about 25% but can peak at 50% in times of stress).
Ten ten till meet again.
Having been unceremoniously ejected from the not-yet marital bed for taking up too much room (I think that it's perfectly acceptable to emulate a starfish when asleep, don't you?). I thought I'd come and blog a bit.
I don't know what the weather is like in your part of the world but excepting yesterday it's been cold and wet, wet, wet for a week now. And not in a "love is all around" type fashion.
Our water feature was turned into a bog garden at great effort from myself and Tallulah using a big pile of dirt at the bottom of the garden. I was personally hoping to find a body there as the police would presumably have a better chance of tracking down the houses' previous tenants and at some point during the trial I could have raised the question of the cracks in the water feature as they were led away to jail.
The Big Brother avoidance has gone well - I've not watched any of it yet. It's particularly easy to avoid this year as the producers seem to have simply chosen tabloid fodder (I know you won't believe me when I say this, but this wasn't always so - up until the end of series 4 they would put some relatively intelligent people in but the producers found that the lack of idiots was affecting their cash cow).
I have, however, been watching the Apprentice and I have to say that I was shocked at the result. How a goggle-eyed upper class twerp that rents out rooms and lighting equipment to schools and who freezes with fear every five minutes is a better candidate than a hardworking sales manager and single mother I don't understand. I can only assume that Sir Alan needs someone who can speak toff.
Spanglepuss has been kind enough to send me a photograph of a historic condom which she wants me to post, so here it is: http://www.sciencemuseum.org.uk/objects/obstetrics_gynaecology_and_contraception/1989-865.aspx . I'm not sure why I've been sent this and I'm slightly concerned because another faithful reader has sent me a photograph of her (Spanglepuss's) boyfriend's bottom. Is there some kind of message here - a test for a newly engaged man to gauge his gay percentage?
If you're really interested I'd say that my gay percentage is about 20% raising to near 40% if I've been listening to a Russell T Davies podcast as that tends to make me slightly camp and welsh for a few hours (my Welsh percentage is normally about 25% but can peak at 50% in times of stress).
Ten ten till meet again.
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