Category Archives: Humor

Paper fans of the world unite!!!

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This site allows you to see the stats for your blog, that is, it tells you how many views per day, what posts have had most views and comments, etc.  All very interesting

But the statistic I find most fascinating is the search engine statistic

I have discovered that there are a surprisingly large number of people worldwide who put in the search term STATIONERY

And I don’t just mean in English.  I’ve had all sorts, Arabic, Vietnamese – all googling stationery in their own language (I know because I’ve used the translate button to see what they’ve been searching) and finding their way to my blog

Who would have thought that stationery was so popular?  I wrote about my own love of paper a while ago –  Wanna buy some…..paper?

Well, I thought I was the only  one with a paper fetish!

OBVIOUSLY NOT!!!!

The contents of my handbag…..

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I was rummaging around for something (again) in my handbag yesterday when it occurred to me that it probably isn’t like your average girlie handbag…..

Yes, it is impossible to find anything in there, so in that respect it is similar

And yes, there is the obligatory lipstick (three in fact) and a blusher in one of the side pockets – and of course my purse – but, apart from that, it is unusual for a ladybag

In fact, it is more like the inside of Curry’s (electrical store for those who may not know)

1. Digital camera (pink) – ready for those spontaneous photo shoots

2. iTouch – in case I have to hang around somewhere and need to play Angry Birds

3. Dictaphone – for all my random thoughts

4. Work mobile – for work, obviously

5. Personal mobile – err, for personal use

Then we have the collection of ART equipment, in case I see a view that NEEDS to be sketched immediately – sketch book, pens, a range of pencils and an eraser

I also have the ‘BAG WITHIN A BAG’ in there.   An ingenious little device, designed so that the contents of your bag are always neatly organised in whatever bag you are using – the idea being you simply transfer everything from one big bag to another as it is neatly packed into the ‘bag within a bag’

Since I can never be arsed to rummage through my bag cupboard (too painful, it’s where the gorgeous, sparkly high heels I can never wear live – I can’t look at them, it makes me sad) and the contents of the ‘bag within a bag’ have spilled out into the BIG HANDBAG, it is really not doing its job too well

The pink Filofax also takes up a fair bit of room but is obviously essential and then there are the THREE pairs of glasses I have to carry with me – one pair for driving, one for reading and a snazzy pair of prescription sunglasses in case the sun should ever come out while I am driving along, which it has only done twice so far this year since I got them, by the way!!!

Add an assortment of leaflets, tissues, receipts, some Gaviscon, a drug-testing kit, my ID badge and some boiled sweets and there you have it

My handbag……

Clippy cloppies

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As I mentioned previously, I went into London on Saturday for a lovely meal.  We had a thoroughly good evening, eating lovely food and drinking lovely wine and generally pretending we do this sort of thing all the time

Anyway, the usual problem of what to wear on my feet presented itself when I was deciding what to wear

I have LOADS of pairs of shoes – a cupboard full

But hardly any I can wear

The trouble is, I have never been very good in heels.  My feet must be naturally flat because arches give me pain and the balls of my feet scream in agony if I am wearing anything with a heel more than half an inch

Obviously, when I was younger, I ignored the pain and suffered for the sake of fashion.  But, as I have matured, comfort has replaced beauty and I wear flatties all the time.  That’s not to say I don’t have some very nice flat shoes and sandals but sometimes you really do need a heel to finish off an outfit

But I just can’t cope with them.  I totter along and complain loudly that my feet hurt.  I have to drink a lot of alcohol to numb the pain (which usually results in a bit of staggering, thus making the high heels even more difficult to walk in) and the whole evening is overshadowed by the pain in my feet……I’ve more or less given up now, it’s not worth the agony

Which means I have an entire cupboard full of gorgeous, sparkly high-heeled shoes, hardly worn and unwearable.  They are simply there to GAZE at now

I also have an excellent pair of walking boots I bought earlier this year

They have NEVER been worn

Whiskers and Malt

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Last night, KD had a problem trying to get a whisky in a pub.  

No, not because they wouldn’t serve him – just because it would seem that bar staff these days just don’t realise there is more to whisky than

JACK DANIELS

Anyone who drinks whisky will understand what I am saying here

Personally, I can’t stand ANY whisky but I do know that Jack Daniels is not REAL whisky.  Well, it is, but not like PROPER whisky.  For a start, it’s spelt with an ‘E’ –  WHISKEY

It’s a particular TYPE of liquor that comes under the broad heading of whisk(e)y but it isn’t the definitive brand

I am happy to stand corrected on this because, as I say I don’t touch the stuff but, it would appear that JD is not in the same league as a Single Malt  

It isn’t even the same as a blended whisky like Bells.  It’s different

Trying to get something other than JD in a bar now seems to be a mission though  

The last three times we’ve been out we have had to practically get behind the bar and point out the other whiskies on the shelf to the nonplussed bar staff

And while we are on the topic of whisky and things that begin with WHISK,

can I just say that I am having terrible problems with my WHISKERS at the moment

Women of a certain age start to sprout stray hairs from their chin at an alarming rate, I have noticed  

Well, I do anyway  

It is a constant battle to stop myself becoming the Bearded Lady

I carry tweezers with me at all times,

I have a mirror and tweezers on standby on my desk at work and I am constantly rubbing my chin to check for new growth

 Don’t get me wrong, I don’t get a five o’clock shadow but I reckon it’s only a matter of time

It’s enough to drive me to drink…….

Anyone for canapes? No thanks, mine’s an amuse-bouche…….

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I’ll start by saying that I didn’t make it to boxing class last night.  I am still having difficulty managing stairs so I thought it best to rest up for another day or so

That doesn’t mean I won’t go back. I shall make it to tomorrow mornings class and it will be good

Anyway, this weekend is my BIRTHDAY weekend.  Not actually my birthday, that’s on Monday, but the celebrations begin today!

It’s not a significant or special birthday, I will be 52.  The sort of birthday you don’t shout about but a birthday nevertheless

Tonight I am being taken to a very nice boutique restaurant in the West End of London.  I am very much looking forward to it

The menu looks gorgeous and I am sure I will have a wonderful time

There will also be MISE EN BOUCHE as part of the dining experience

Now, being the philistine I obviously am, I had never heard of MISE EN BOUCHE before last year when friends spoke of these little hors d’oeuvre once.  I know they are ‘nibbles’ but that is about it

So, I’ve looked it up

I have discovered we call them AMUSE-BOUCHE here.   Which I find amusing in itself.  Probably someone misheard it once and it stuck.  Personally I like amuse-bouche better as it means entertainment for the mouth and that’s got to be good. ‘Mise en bouche’ means ‘setting for the mouth’ – not nearly as appealing.  No wonder they changed it…..

Anyway, they look the same as canapes

They ARE canapes

Canapes I know are those little munchy things on a platter, yummy. Obviously they are so last year now

Which begs the questions –

Are amuse-bouche the new canapes?

Were canapes the new Cheesy Wotsits?

How come we never had “amuse-bouche” or “mise en bouche”, or whatever they are called – or even canapes – when I was growing up?

It’s all a bit pretentious if you ask me

But I will still scoff a plateful tonight – it would be rude not to

All or Nothing……

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Tonight I ticked off the last thing on my ‘To Do’ List

# 10 on my list was ‘join a Boot Camp and get super-fit. (I now have four left on the list to do!)

Now, I must admit, when I wrote the list I was on a bit of a high.  I had just finished my dissertation and a general feeling of well being and elation had enveloped me.

I felt free, relieved and full of new ideas.   Including the Boot Camp one

This wasn’t a totally random idea, however.   A couple of weeks ago I held a small party at mine and a friend told me about this course that was due to start in September.  It sounded just what I needed.  Vigorous exercise three times a week.  She said it was fun and that I would love it…..after a few glasses of wine it sounded like a FABULOUS idea. I agreed to do it with her

In the cold light of day, I wasn’t so sure but I decided I would give it a go

So, there I was tonight, bottle of water in hand and with a determined attitude

Less than half way through, my determined attitude had been replaced by one of defeat.   I had to stop.  It was when I started to feel faint and dizzy and as though I was about to be sick that I decided enough was enough

I spent the rest of the hour drifting in and out of consciousness (ok, I exaggerate – I sat on the bench feeling a bit odd)

I really think there should be a law preventing 52 year old women who don’t normally walk farther than their car from embarking on this sort of exercise…..

It’s my own fault.  I should have remembered that I have done absolutely NOTHING for six months, since I had surgery.  This was my first attempt at ANY exercise at all (apart from one game of badminton a couple of weeks ago, which near enough killed me too)

I’m NOT fit and I’m NOT very young.  I should have thought of all that when I was trying to keep up with everyone

I just can’t do things half heartedly

I’m going again tomorrow anyway.  I’ve signed up now, and paid, so  I WILL finish the course!!

Tomorrow is boxing training

Expect another story (if I survive)

The curse of the wobbly pollen filter

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Having sorted out the mystery of the faulty central locking system on my car, I started noticing a KERCLUNKING sort of noise on closing the door.  I did the obvious – checked that there was nothing rattling around in the glove compartment or the side pockets and established it wasn’t anything silly like that

I decided to pretend it wasn’t happening until it got to the point where I couldn’t start the car one day.  This attitude is probably not the most sensible (it resulted in a cam belt disaster on my previous motor) but it is how I roll…..

So anyway, this afternoon I left a meeting, got into my car, and was greeted by the now strangely comforting KERCLUNK when I shut the door.  What I didn’t expect was the KNOCKITY KNOCK noise that went on for a couple of minutes after that

Oooo dear, I thought.  Something is about to FALL OFF

Always the risk taker though, I decided it wasn’t going to stop me going home

However, at some point during my journey, after remembering the horrific moment when my cam belt broke and I ‘fizzled’ to a stop on a motorway, I started to worry again 

I convinced myself the car was veering to the right (I did this by letting go of the steering wheel and observing the direction the car went in – it went to the right – the fact we were on a bend is neither here nor there)

By the time I was almost home I decided that something MUST have fallen off the steering mechanism – it was the only explanation!

So I phoned my garage, who know me well, and asked if I could swing by (in a veering rightward sort of way)

After a lot of door shutting and opening and a bit of a fiddle about, they decided that I probably have a ‘wobbly pollen filter’. Ok, they didn’t say that exactly but that’s my interpretation of it

I haven’t a clue what that means

But it isn’t life-threatening. Or, indeed, car threatening

I have to use the ‘recycle’ facility on my air vent system for the next few days and see if it stops.  If it does, we’re laughing.  New pollen filter and it’s sorted.  I now feel very eco-friendly, using my ‘recycle’ facility.  Even though I am now having to breathe in OLD air 

If it doesn’t stop, well, they’ll get to the bottom of it I suppose.  As long as nothing falls off in the meantime….

Stupid car

Do NOT touch my buttons!

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NEVER let your friends tinker with your gadgets

Today, I was explaining the world of blogging to a friend of mine. It fell on deaf ears I have to say. She doesn’t read blogs, she doesn’t even FACEBOOK!

She is one of those ‘I’m not very interested in the internet’ type of people

Weird

Anyway, I showed her the inspiration for my posts. Well, the gadget that captures my inspirational thoughts, to be more accurate.

My little Sony dictaphone

It’s a neat little thing, nice and small, easy to operate and great for storing just about everything I would otherwise forget. I use it a lot, not just to blog, but to remind myself of things I need to do. I find I have of most of my ideas whilst driving – I do a lot of driving – and my dictaphone is always there, on the passenger seat, ready to capture my flash of inspiration or to record that I need to phone someone or something

Anyway, I showed her my little gadget and she was most impressed. I left her to fiddle with it for a moment – a MOMENT, that’s all. I was distracted. She handed it back and said it was an amazing little gadget and that was that…….

I’ve just gone to switch it on and retrieve my gems of wisdom

And they’ve all gone

She’s only gone and bloody well wiped the lot off!!!!!

Now, if I were a suspicious-minded person, I’d say she’s nicked my ideas and plans to take over the blog world

As it is, I think she accidentally pressed a button

And erased the lot

They were such BRILLIANT thoughts as well – and now the world will never know

Ho hum

Now I have to start ALL over again
*****
Errrrr….ok

UPDATE

I was just fiddling with my gadget and found all my ramblings. I forgot I had ‘folders’ on this bloody ridiculously COMPLICATED little thing!!

How embarrassing

Words words words……….

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I have done my work.    No more stress and no more late nights.

To show my joy, I shall write this post with words of just one syllable (well, if you do not count that one, there is no word like that to use!).

I have used lots of big words in the last few days and I am sick of them.

It is hard just to talk in small words!  But I just do not think my brain has more big words in it. They are all used up.

I still do not see why big words must be used to say things when a small word would do just as well.

But that is what you have to do when you write words for a course. 

And I think I have used all the big words there are in the WORLD this week.

So, none in this post, as you can see.

And that is that. I have no more small words to say……

(Normal service will be resumed later – oops!!!!!)