Getting a Grip, Large Willies and Going Metric

I love my Samsung phone ye know. 'Why do ye love yer Samsung phone Beth?' I hear ye cry. Well I tell ye. It's because of the scheduling text thingymajig. Yesterday I was able to schedule a text and send it to myself to receive at 7am this morning. I won't be doing that time again- I was still asleep and fecking woke meself up!! On the plus side I wished meself a Happy Birfday. I know the brighter ones among you will be saying 'Your birfday is surely in September Beth'. Well, the official one is I know- according to mines mother (who reckons she was there when I was born) and the birf certificate I have. But I like to have two birfdays. So I am celebrating my 22 1/2 with 30 years and 2weeks experience birfday today. I am looking forward to cake. On the downside mines Mr Husband forgot it was mines other birfday and he hasn't bought me anyfink. Good job I still got some of the icing left he bought me for last years birfday!

I have been pondering what asshole put the two words 'fun and run' together. What is fun about it exactly? I didn't think the 40 mile fun run I did with mines Mr Husband (whilst he was dressed as superman) was much fun in my sleep last night- I have very feckin sore hips this morning.

Also I ask mines Mr Husband if we leave the Eurothingymagjig will we be able to go back to feets and inches? I have never been happy with the new metric doodah not since 1971 when they changed it. Mines Mr Husband pointed out that I was only 8 at the time and I should be used to it by now. Why? Why should I? A girl knows where she is with 8 inches. I argued with him (and a very valid point if ye ask me)- who ever says ' look at that 2km of willy'. He says 'nobody because that 2km is = to 3miles (I told ye ye learns someat new everyday- who knew? )and furthermore, not only but also, who would want one that big?'. I says 'my sister probably wouldn't mind giving it a bash. She is game for anything'. Anyway he says its time I got to grips with it. I tell ye I am grappling with it- he be a bit annoyed cos he wants to get dressed- I wish he would make his feckin mind up- either he wants me to get to grips with it or he don't.

Virgin Showering, A good 8 Inches and cold arse

           Ye Gods- I am tired of this skinny bitch shower. Ye knows we have this skinny bitch house with a skinny bitch shower cubicle. It measures just three feet by three feet ( a metre square for you peoples born after 1990)- us oldies are better with feet and inches. Ye know where ye are with 8 inches. (Heaven!!). Tis no good this ere shower for cake shaped peoples like me and mines Mr Husband. We have had to learn to do the vertical limbo to get in. There is no where to put thee shower gel and thee shampoo. Fact. So I bought a hanging thingymajig with a hook to hang from the shower itself. Was okish but it squealed like a nervous virgin against the wall every time it got touched. Think blackboards and nails. I couldn't stand it anymore. Or hang it. So I bought a new one. Very similar but with plastic coating and added suction pads and an extra little shelfy thing to put extra shampoos and whatnots. The downside was the shampoos and whatnots had to lay down. Not too bad I thought. Until today when I got in the shower. It obstructed the shower so the shower kept turning round and pointing at the wall. I can't even begin to tell you the position I had to get into to get wet. Then the damn shelfy thing kept moving about. So I took it off the shower and hung it on the door. I knew I wouldn't be able to get out again with it there but I could move it again. I carefully stacked all the bottles on it, turned the shower head back round to face me and low and behold I couldn't move at all because there was no space. I tried to lift the shelfy thing off and hang on another door and all the bottles came off and clouted me on the head and on me feet. No room for doing the jive in there I tell ye. I bent over to pick them up and dabbed me cute arse on the cold tiles which in turn caused me to bang me head on the knob. The door knob that is. There be no room for two peoples in that shower, even bean pole shaped peoples. I yanked at the shelfy thing which was by now sucked firmly to the door- I slid it to the edge and yanked a bit more- hooray it came off but alas it landed sucker side down on the shower tray. The door flew open and the bathroom was getting soaked, I was yanking at this damn thing to get it off the floor but it was stuck firmly by its suckers- my cute arse hit the cold tiles again and I banged me head on the knob again (same knob- no room for two people- I just told ye that). I continued me shower stood on one leg, wedged in a corner with me head under me arm and me cute arse pressed against the tiles.  And where was Mines Mr Husband-? I hear ye all asking. Well I will tell ye - he was down stairs having his crumpet and never heard the commotion above his head. (Apparently.)  Tomorrow I am having a bath.

Pelvic floor, Arseholes and 8 and a half inches to be exact.

I have been putting the world to rights today with mines cousins. I only made a comment on facebook about food banks requesting jam sponge pudding and it near enough started world war three- tis now an incident that I can only call' jam sponge pudding gate'. One friend unfriended me but I don't be doing the crying into me pillow thingy. Life be too short. So I shall send her love and peace and healing. I send peace and love and healing to all today- even arseholes. So if ye feels ye arsehole twitching it probably be me- or it could be ye piles. Ye never will know for sure.

The neighbours having turf laid across the road. I did say to the turf man- don't be laying that in the road- it will be ruined there. Get it laid in the back garden- mine preferably. He thought I said 'get laid in my back garden'- that caused a few problems but all is well now.

My cousin is having bladder woes. I told her the hairy chin comes next. I told she need to visit her doctor and get advise about the pelvic floor thingy. Mines Midwife, 33years since, told me 'Do ye pelvic floor exercises everyday'. And I have. She still not told me to stop yet- so I still do them everyday. I have a grip like a bulldog clip. I can sharpen pencils. Release bottle tops. Fire missiles. Recently my GP thought she would do a check on ye old pelvic floor - impertinent I thought- bit personal is that. Still I have had kids, I don't mind ye old check up. Suddenly she gasped 'Oh my word, ye have a strong grip there'. I knew that. 'Aye' I agreed, 'tis true- ye olde midwife told me to do these pelvis floor thingys 33 years since and I haven't seen her since so I have been doing them all this time'. She looked pained for a moment and said 'well he keep it up'- I said 'Aye, it does, that be why Mines Mr Husband always got a grin on his face'. She lost the top of her finger that day. T'was why she had a pained look and T'was last pelvic floor she checked.

Anyways - I can't be sat here all day.  I have to do some sewing because the curtains in the lounge need taking down. I took them up on Mines Mr Husbands measurements- 8 and half inches to be exact but tis ony five and half inches. I shan't be letting him do the measuring again- after all I am the fecking sewist person in this house- should have did the measurements meself! Then I got to make a turtle. And me eggs are on the boil. Tis me age. Tis all go in this house!!