Is it me or is this a bit shit?

the why

we are here to make your life easier! we provide the services of a personal assistant for busy people, who just can't fit any more into their lives and would like some help. delegate your task list and trust us to organise the aspects of your life that you don't have the time, energy or the inclination to do.

Don't buy anything from tossers who are too idle or too winky to use capital letters - especially at 30 quid an hour.

Comic snagged from

www.arsepoetica.com/.../index.html

I am cycling to clear my brain.
It is 6pm. The country roads are clear, the air is sunshine and rain.
I am plugged in to my mp3 playing phone, on shuffle, as I breast a hill.
The song changes.
"Inflammable Material burning in my head"
Bastard.
For the record I also got Clash City Rockers, Only Love Can Break Your Heart, Fuck You by Alberto Y los trios Paranoias and, just to take the piss a little bit more, No Reply by The Buzzcocks.

"We're gonna blow up in your face"

Also, proposed new law.
Either accept a knighthood and get called sir.
Or don't accept it and don't get called sir.
Got that, Sir Bonio?

Looking to Mick, Joe, Paul and Topper for inspiration.
Like I was 14 again.

Every little bit hurts
Every little bit hurts
Every night I cry
Every night I sigh
Every night I wonder why
You treat me cold
But I can’t let you go

Every little
Every little
Say you’re coming home
But you never phone
Leave me all alone
My love is strong for you
I do long for you

I can’t take this loneliness
You’re giving me
Can’t go on
Giving my life away

Come back to me
Darling you’ll see
I can give all the things
That you wanted before
If you’ll stay

Every little bit hurts
Every little bit hurts
Every night I cry
Every night I sigh
Every night I wonder why
You hurt me
Desert me

I can’t take this lonliness
You’re giving me
I can’t go on
Giving my life away

Come back to me
Darling you’ll see
I can give all the things
That you wanted before
If you’ll stay

Every little bit hurts
Every little bit hurts
Every night I cry
Every night I sigh
Every night I wonder why
You treat me cold
But I can’t let you go

Every little bit hurts
Every little bit

From the wedding list of my much-loved mate from school....

Newlyn Oak Grandmother Clock
Richard Broad Clocks

It is often said that the English home is not complete without the following three things: A log fire, a sleeping dog and a ticking clock! It is perhaps for this reason that Richard Broad's Longcase clocks are still so in demand. This Grandmother timepiece is lovingly crafted in oak and boasts a uniquely designed cream dial by a local artist and a triple chime mechanism from the Black Forest region in Germany. And as if this wasn't enough! The company will also deliver the clock to your home, set it up for you and explain its workings. Service and quality are just part of the service from this well established Cornish company.

Newlyn Oak Grandmother Clock [PR47571]
w39 h173 d24.5cm
£1,731.00 each

Well I'll have two of those for a start.

New Wave 8cm Individual Dip Bowl
from Villeroy & Boch
PR114957 £6.95

Do you remember New Wave?

How about this for entertainment? Searching Wedding Lists from Other People.

Onion Horoscope: Aries

You've never been the type to contemplate suicide, a fact made painfully clear by the hurried, rather slapdash nature of your hanging this Thursday.

"Have washed kitchen floor, had bath, put washing out on line..."

The stuff you can do on the internet these days!

What to do?
I could give you a brief resume of recent texts.
I could do with a second opinion.
That's for another time.

Ok - after yesterday's obscene Saturday 7:30 am alarm clock, we reverted to more natural methods.
A squirming child enters the bed at 6am.
Or is that now 7am? Something about the clocks wasn't there? I'm confused after getting up 70 minutes after going to sleep, to tend to "Wanna Bottle" Boy.

I called round at Local Drive to pick up cornerunitboughtoffebay. It's feckin enormous a bit bigger than I thought. I get it home in two loads while boy catches up on broken sleep (his, not mine).

Then to Melton to have fun. No 6p, but we'll manage.

We start with some fast food and then feed a packet of mini cheddars to the goats without losing any fingers. Later, when boy wonder challenges me to a slide race, I accidentally pull the remains of the packet all over his hair.

Got a bit sad cus the last time I was here we had big assault course challenge and a big game of hide and seek in the mini Western Town, and today I didn't go on any of the bigger rides cus none of my bigger kids would come with me - no matter, boy enjoyed a spell in gaol. When in the pretend bank, we encountered the traditional locked metal box for securing money and other valuables.
I engaged a random woman in conversation.
"That doesn't look very safe," I quipped.
Nobody laughed.

We looked at loads of animals, including the llamas ("These animals may spit") and then we watched some ferrets racing along half a mile of tubing in a big barn (one won; one didn't; it was good). Boy went on a tractor.
We went on the swings.
Boy said "This is fun!"
Then he said "That was great fun!"
Wow. Boy smiles. Dad smiles.
Then we went and broke all the rules about going on the big slide, including the one about needing a sack, the one about being at least five, the one about not wearing shoes and the one about not walking up the slide cus it's the quickest way to come down again.
Sorry.

I haven't blogged for a while.
Not much has happened recently.
Last night I had a beer while me, littlun n six n boco watched Toy Story and I enjoyed it very much.
We bought some things in Wilkos.
Yesterday in Sainsbury's a giril said : "I HAVE got holes in my ears."
Actually, I'm having an ace weekend and later I'm taking littlun to Twinlakes in the Rolls.

I appear to be googlewhacking Ebay.

I HATE Tuesday.

I'm drawing together some stuff here.
If you head hurts, skip it.

Scott Adams, creator of Dilbert, has a theory (expounded in God's Debris) that the only rational thing for a rational god to do would be to blow himself up.

Working on the assumption that he did just that, we might be random pieces of flotsam and jetsam - with a mission to come together; ultimately we'll shaped by some Magartheans into a supercomputer, like in H2G2.

One manifestation of us all becoming part of the same knowledge must be the internet.

And its leading edge tool must be Wikipedia.

Now wiki aint perfect, but reading secback's blog a few moments ago I came across Conservapedia, which seems to point out that Wikipedia is in fact a tool for Satan. Wickedpedia is systematically biased aagainst extremist loonies Conservative Americans

I don't know if they're right or not.
My head hurts.
But I they claim that 60% of Americans believe that Noah's Ark and the great flood are historical facts, yet Wickedpedia cites it as mythology. < - - - - - - - Follow that link for more examples of Wikipedia bias to give you a chuckle.

And if that doesn't make your head hurt, check your pulse.

* at the end of break duty, a solitary shoe.

* random snippets of conversation_
"Sir, Ketul's eating!"
Indecipherable mouthful in response, which might have benn "Nuff Im Notfff"

* food and drink and chat and texts.

If I kept a diary, I'd leave it blank.

If I had a blog, I wouldn't bother.

...has just been admiring Billie Piper's Fanny.

And she believes Fanny Price sounds more like a question than a name.

Me, I prefer Mansfield Town.

...£101.75

For professional reasons I can't blog pictures of youngsters having Red Nose Day fun, fantastic though they are, so let me share a few snippets.

"My mum said I can borrow the smoothie maker as long as it comes back clean; she won't know, though, she's in Butlins."

This was because I'd knackered the thing in a smoothie making frenzy.

If you ever wish to convince someone that you've just vomited down your own trousers, I suggest the following method:
* Spend a hectic afternoon making smoothies.
* Jam the machine with strawberries, raspberries, big chunks of chocolate and low fat yoghurt.
* Try to unjam it.

The first half an hour was a complete nightmare. One of the blenders leaked; the microwave purloined from the staffroom was too disgusting to use; nobody could work the chocolate fountain; an enthusiastic kid ruined about 4lbs of cocolate; the candyfloss machine overheated and started smelling funny. Hopeless.

In the second half hour we stopped bothering with the dinky little taps, which were already blocked, and started pouring the smoothies straight out of the top.

In the third half hour we realised we didn't have time to clean our one remaining working blender, so whatever folk asked for they got what whatever was still in there. We didn't have time to melt the chocolate folk were asking for, and it was all rocking about in the bottom of the blender - we tried not to let people see. Nobody complained. And once the icecream started melting on us, we were able to produce smoothies with extra body!

The final half hour was a frenzy of activity. We'd run out of sticks for the marshmallows so had started using straws instead! Then we had a made fifteen minutes dropping bananas in the chocolate fountain and squirting squirty cream in each other's mouths.

And then we tidied up.

I'm knackered!

Some people are a bit disparaging about blogging.
While I was temporarily subbed from the footie tonight, I was idly playing with my toe - as I think it's ready to fall off.
My fellow subs mockingly suggested that I blog about it; they knew that some punters would read it.
So I have.
And you are.

Here it is in all its nakedness.

I couldn't help myself.
I've just had to ring the Birds Eye customer careline to complain about two spelling errors on their packaging.
This is where a career teaching English has driven me.
Now excuse me while I check that the Crispy Chicken is pipng hot thtoughout.

Her perfume hangs in the air as she puts her hand firmly on my knee. I lie back as she spreads my legs, kneeling over my body and making me feel so relaxed and comfortable....
then, later, I've turned my attentions to Anne. One moment I'm kneeling over her bare chest; the next, I'm running my hands over her pert nipples and breathing heavily. I lean over her again, my lips seeking hers, my hands on her gorgeous chest. And soon I am pounding away.

And as well as the recovery position and CPR, we practised putting slings on each other and using a defibulator.

I've had worse.

[Edit - The landlord's been round; now I'm less cheerful]
Sorry if you're in a Sunday night funk, waiting for Postsecrets to cheer you up in that "there but for the grace of God" kind of way, but I'm feeling pretty darned good.
Six is in the bath admiring her bump and I'm catching the second half of the Watford Plymouth game.
I'm largely cheerful on account of a day in the company of:

It's not all sweetness and light. "Now!" seems to be the new "No!" and he is developing a shouting tendency that might be useful if he ever decides on my line of work. However he makes up for his occasional grumpiness with bizarre turns of phrase to keep us sweet.
For example, he seemed to wake up in a cheerful state at lunchtime, but while we tried to negotiate a cooked meal that was to his taste he descended into a fit of ill-mannered screaming, but the fact that he was shouting "I want pig!" seem to take some of the edge off it.
This morning he worryingly claimed to be a "big girl" now, and when a tell tale whiff seemed to indicate that his nappy needed changing, he cheerfully told me "I'm still going!"
We went to the "seenbetterdays" model village of Wistan, and the Garden centre that always reminds me of The Secret Garden. I loved the rake hanging out of the tree!
Even in the gloom that descends when he has to go home, he cheered me up. He happily tidied all his toys away, and when I thought we'd finished he said "And the tunnel" and found another four toy cars - in the subwoofer. I'll explain that it's not a tunnel. One day.

Didn't see it, but the last picture is for Chelsea. Spawny!

OK. I cheated.

Final Score: Wrexham 1 Bury 1
A late Glynn Hurst goal hands the Shakers a point in a pulsating game at the Racecourse that saw the home side reducd to nice men.

Well done Gordon!
Please don't change it.
And yes, I'm happy with a point.

Welcome, MORELEARNING!
You have 9001 unread messages:

Littlun took ages to go to sleep and then got up about 3am, wriggled into our bed and kept wriggling.

"I want some Weetabix please."

Weetabix preparation begins.

"Here you are"

"I don't want it. It's too spicy."

After protracted negotiations, I decide to eat it myself.

"I'll have it now."

Off to see my cousin for a coffee in Borders.
Here's a picture of Graham Joyce, who we went to see last Thursday. Note budding authors with notebooks.

She called me a WANDERER!
How insensitive can you get?
Premiership
1 Man Utd 29 12 1 1 35 8 11 2 2 31 11 47 72
2 Chelsea 28 10 4 0 30 8 9 2 3 20 11 31 63
3 Liverpool 29 11 3 1 29 4 5 2 7 15 16 24 53
4 Arsenal 27 9 5 0 34 11 6 2 5 16 12 27 52
5 Bolton Wanky Wanderers 28 8 3 3 20 12 6 2 6 13 20 1 47

League 2 (Division 4 in old money)
19 Buryed 35 4 5 9 20 30 6 2 9 18 22 -14 37
20 Macclesfield 35 6 5 7 29 30 3 4 10 13 26 -14 36
21 Accrington Stanley 35 5 5 7 28 27 3 5 10 24 37 -12 34
22 Wrexham 35 6 6 6 18 18 2 4 11 14 39 -25 34
23 Boston Utd 36 6 4 8 21 28 2 4 12 19 39 -27 32
24 Torquay 36 3 6 9 13 19 2 5 11 15 35 -26 26

Went to Loughborough (Looogerboroooger if you're Abi) last weekend.

Highlights:
This exhibition in Charnwood Museum, and a bloke who might have been from South Korea standing in the middle of it a moaning "Council Tax!" to all and sundry.
This sign, which actually means:
You are a crap driver and if you try to reverse into this space you'll probably drive straight through this window and wake us up. So don't.

This lad, my son, who spent about 20 minutes looking at himself in puddles after we were caught in a rainstorm