A cornish Affair, Creamed Nipples and Candy Floss

I know ye are all wondering why I haven't told ye all about me holidays. Well I have been in a very dark place since I got back- yes I been locked in the cupboard under the feckin stairs again. Note to self ; ask mines Mr Husband to buy me a new cupboard under the stairs as current one has been filled to full capacity with ironing. Needs mines little sister (the one with the issues and the day confusion) to come and do mines ironing. She likes ironing. Anyways I am out of cupboard now- I was forced out by the ironing board in t'end. So do ye want to know what I got up to?Of course ye do- so yer goes me ol' babbers.

T'was a nice manor we stayed at-  it had a lovely welsh dresser for all me ornaments and nails in the walls for me pictures. See I told ye all I needed to take me ornaments. Fortunately I did sneak a few in when Mines Mr Husband wasn't looking. The bed was lumpy. I tell ye before I am like the princess and the pea. If some buggar has peed in a bed before me I know. One was too hard. One was too soft. And there wasn't one just right. And same goes for beds. I know how feckin Goldilocks felt now- poor cow. Noah knocked three times for his furniture back- but T'was clean enough I guess for someone like me with OCD. I did take me own cleaning stuff though. Took mines Poor old Mr Husband six trips up and down to unpack the car and eight when we was leaving!

We walked over hill and over dale, up and down the cliffs and many steps. Mines poor, poor feckin hips- never knowed now't like it in thems little lives. But T'was all to see some breathtaking scenery and I am officially in love with it- all over again. Infact if I ever have to choose betwixt Cornish Cliff and mines Mr Husband tis going to be a tight choice I can tell ye. He best just hope I am never forced to choose at a time when he is getting on me piggin nerves. At one time, ye never guess what I did on the cliff top- I actually went beyond a sign that said 'DO NOT GO BEYOND THIS POINT'. Tis true I feckin did. And it felt great. I was being rebellious. More rebellious than putting a teabag in the wrong recycling bin. Mines Mr Husband was shocked. He thought I would fall. Still he was the one who went and sat like a cockle on a rock way too high.

We photographed this and we photographed that. I took 1000 pictures on mines camera and then I took another 400 on mines phone! Sometimes I even wandered away from mines Mr Husband. Yep I did. I was a real dare devil on mines holidays. I photographed a kestrel above mines head and bull in a field. Dozens of rocks and much water and many waves and hundreds of boats. But I loved every minute of it.

One day whilst we was there T'was our 6th wedding anniversary. Mines Mr Husband hadn't got me nothing just yet but I didn't cry or nuffin. I got him a Terry Pratchett book and then we went out all day- that must have been torture for him (not that I bought him a book- the fact he had to leave whilst we went out) so I think we are even. We found a nice little cafe in a campsite. I ordered a cream tea. T'was two heart shaped, freshly baked scones. So fresh they was warm. The nice person who brought them to me said 'shall ye be sharing these?' -( I really don't know what all this sharing stuff is all about!) Mines Mr husband was just about to say Yes- when I grabbed the plate and glared at him and then at her 'No we feckin shan't' I said 'He can get his own'. And I tell ye I ate them both. And I didn't even feel guilty. Not even sick. 'Put your top back on please' mines Mr Husband said 'Tis rude of ye to be topless in this nice little cafe'. I explained I didn't want to get jam and cream on me best tee shirt. He said 'but ye will ruin ye nipples- put them away before ye gets arrested- again'. Then mines Mr Husband took me to Newquay. Newquay has special memories for me of happy times with mines little children when we all lived together and we was happy. We wandered round and round photographing this and photographing that. T'was a happy day and I kept thinking about the scones. Infact I have thought about them scones every day since I got home. I can't get the image of thems scones outta  me head I tell ye. I think I am becoming pastry dependant. And I am supposed to be pastry intolerant if truth be known but it happens to menopausal woman this pastry dependency. It shows no consideration for ye intolerances. Ye also become intolerant to fools (of the people variety not the gooseberry variety) and bullshit. Apparently. I also managed to find, much to my excitement, a couple of dead pheasants at the side of the road. I was going to give these to mines Mr Husband for his anniversary also. He said he didn't want them and he would make do with a cheese toasty. Then I got quite excited because I seen a weasel. This is the first time I have seen a real weasel. Ever. 'What it is it?' I asked mines Mr Husband. 'Tis a weasel mines little fruitcake', he said. 'I will get it thee for our anniversary', I offered. 'But tis dead', he said. T'was true, it was a weasel that had already popped. But nevertheless if its the first time ever you have seen one tis still exciting. Mines Mr Husband said he didn't want it. But I have decided that Cornwall not only offers the best scenery ever it also has the best presents ever- even if they are dead. Dead is good because tis money saving. Down yer in Devon we only get dead mice and dead blackbirds. Oh and the odd old welly.

We went to Padstow. T'was there I spotted a cake shop. I was cooing- face glued to glass. 'Get thee behind me Satan' I said. He did. Then he pushed me right feckin in. It was a cake shop that belong to a certain celebrity chef. I eyed up a pair of delicious looking meringues filled with cream. Mines Mr Husband was going to buythem for me. Then he looked at the price tag of £6.50 each and turn'd me round to face the door again- a bit sharpish if you ask me. Made me quite giddy. Think he was trying to erase me memory. He do sometimes think he is Superman. It would take more than Superman to make me forget a pair of meringues like that. No meringues for me from there. Told ya he pisses on me chips. And now he is pissing on me meringues. Can't get the image of they meringues outta me head I tell ye. Then we went to the beach. I found mines Mr Husband a nice bit of cuttlefish. I told him it would be good to sharpen his beak or something on . He threw it back in the sea. I could have give that to a budgie. Mines Mr Husband pointed to a sign that said you couldn't take things of this beach. I put a couple of pebbles in me pocket because I was in a rebellious mood on this holiday. There wasn't any shells but T'was a lucky thing I happened to take me own shells on this holiday. Ye never know what thee's going to need on these yer holidays. Nowhere is ever equipped properly in these days of austerity.

We seen David Stow- the bloke who makes the cheese. Well we didn't se him Exactly. We seen the place that was named after his cheese. We seen Michael Stow his brother and Jacob Stow his father.

I asked mines Mr Husband if we could go back because tis mines favourite place Cornwall. He asked why. I said because they like my baps. Tis true. He said 'how do thee know that mines little pumpkin?'. I said 'well when we went there it said Welcome Careful Cornwall drivers and girls with Nice Baps'. (Ye can google Nice Baps in Cornwall if ye likes and ye will see what I mean!). He said 'I think you have many signs mixed up there mines little fruitcake- but I see your points'. He is always looking at my feckin points. Anyways I can only go if I say sorry to some peoples - again!!

I must render apologies to

The men dressed in orange suits with the little orange boat on the beach for pretending I was drowning naked in order for them to rescue me- three times.

The woman jogger on the cliff top- I shouldn't have said 'ye needs to jog a bit faster and harder to shift that fat off ye arse Mrs'. Personally, if she hadn't stopped to give me a gob full, I think she might not have lost her footing and she could well be alive today. Sorry about that. Jogging be dangerous I tell ye.

The screamy kid with the bucket stuck on his head- sorry about that- but ye do look marginally better and it did stop ye screaming for a bit. Tis not my fault ye got sticky out ears and I had to jam it on really hard to fit 'em in. Nice spade by the way. Using it in me garden at home now.

To the woman I pinched the meringue from in Padstow- ye just don't know the trouble I had to go to get that out of thee hand. Lot of sneaking up on thee. I ain't got 320 vision like a feckin seagull ye know. Had to take me chances where I could and I was verily tormented by ye licking that in front of me. And to be fair you didn't need it- ye got enough feckin fat to be dealin with there ye do.

To that little girl - It was wrong of me to snaffle thee candy floss, but T'was really bad for a little girl to have so much candy floss. I told ye before- all ye teeth will fall out and your nipples will go green and the boys won't want thee.

The man with the hand gliding thingy on top of cliff that I gave a little push too. How the feck was I supposed to know ye wasn't ready- thee didn't say ye wasn't yet attached to ye doofer watsit. Ye silly old fool (dead fool- Rest in Peace Chap).

The young girl in the gift shop in front of me for givin thee a wedgie and making thee scream. Ye shouldn't wear thongs a) too small and b) showing over thee jeans.

That be it- I surely ain't apologising to the rest. I just hope that somebody dug out they three kids that I buried in the sand up to their necks before the tide comes in.

Final note- I am still trying to work out why that woman came into the museum and asked that man that strange question 'Excuse me, do you mind if I wash me hands up your little back passage?'. More curious was his answer ' not at all- go right ahead'. Made my day you two peoples did. Just glad I didn't watch.

So there ye goes folks. That was a snippet of mines holidays for ye.

Naked Eclipse, Smacking Cute Arses and Loo Rolls

Saturday Night - I know it's late but I am treating the neighbours to a little 'welcome home Beth sing-along with Beth and Elvis' with head phones cos tis their favourite. Mines Mr Husband is treating the neighbours out the back to a little 'Steven welcome home 'snore, cough and sneeze along with Steve' without headphones. Soooo good to be back in our own beds and sharing stuff with the neighbours. I bet they don't even appreciate how feckin good and caring we are to them.

Sunday - Tonight is a bloody moon and an eclipse- so I am ready yet again. Colander at the ready and knife in case I need to sacrifice anyone (apparently that's what we were supposed to do at the last one- don't hurt to be prepared is what I say)!

Monday Evening -Well I think T'was very nice that moony thingy last night/this morning at a most unsociable hour. Seemed like I was the only one in this road to be out in me bedtime attire- and before ye asks- well yes I do only wear fluffy socks to bed and nothing else. Of course I didn't go out into the moonlight in just be fluffy socks. What do ye take me for? I had me colander on as well although to be honest I did strain me eyes a bit. Not only did it seem like I was the only one out in the road at this ungodly hour to partake of the spectacle 'not coming round again for many years eclipse' I was the only one out there. I stood in the middle of the road and didn't get knocked down even- that's how alone I was. T'was very nipply out there. Not well today. Think I caught a chill. So here I be, tucked up in bed, browsing for birthday gifts for mines little sister (the one with the issues and the day confusion). I could have got something last week but I was told the world would end today and I didn't wanna waste me money. I am also having a very croaky sing-along with Beth and Elvis (cos me throat is sore) so extra special treat for me neighbours. I think they must be cold tonight cos they have shut the Windows. But I will just sing louder and croakier.

Tuesday- All the way home from Tesco mines Mr Husband was asking me 'Why? Why did you have to do it? Why is all I ask!' That's how he went. 'Oh feckin alright' (I was fed up of his asking now)- ' I did it because he was hunky and had a cute arse and was bent over in front of me and I couldn't resist'. He wasn't going to let me get away with that. 'But for god's damn sake woman- he was the manager and ye should not slap the managers arse no matter how tempted you are'. I argued my case 'Well I couldn't see his face- just that feckin cute arse. People really shouldn't bend over in front of me'. He was quiet for a moment. Then he said ' And what about that woman? Why? Why do you have to go and throw your arms around her and say 'It's really lovely to see you working in here'- she looked feckin terrified'. 'Ah that's easy to answer as well', I said 'It is Kathy my friend'. He tutted and sighed. 'I keep telling you, tis NOT Kathy'. 'Well she looks like Kathy' I said ' I am sure that Kathy is leading a double life'. He looked a bit frustrated if ye ask me. 'She banged her when she fell to the ground- she thought you was mugging her- its a good job I was with you and told her you hadn't had your medication yet. Ye would be locked up again ye would'. Then he shakes his head and says 'I am not taking ye shopping not no more- in future ye shall give me a list and ye can stay at home and stop showing me up'. Anyways I don't care I don't like shopping. Ye do ye best to bring a bit of spice into the life of a supermarket and all ye get is 'don't do this, don't that, don't sit in the ice cream section of the freezers to cool yeself off with no clothes on, don't be twerking, don't be telling the woman on the till that ye are going naked pole dancing after with a traffic warden'. I give up!

Thursday- Yesterday was a good day- Mines Mr Husband bought me Roy Orbison Black and White Night- being trying to get that for ages. He said 'I seen that on your Amazon wish list'. Personally I think I am lucky he got that because on that list is a toilet roll holder, paper toilet seat covers and a bulk buy pack of loo rolls- (you see a theme there emerging don't ye?). I also managed to buy five mirrors for her with bump next doors pussy- it is a bit out of control to say the least. I am now hoping it will bring some control back in it's life.  Also got a free air freshener at the car wash- Mines Mr husband said yer put that in yer drawers-now I am walking a bit funny but I smell nice. Today's top tip from Beth's world of top tips is this - no matter what your problems everything is only temporary and it shall pass. Yesterday was temporary and it passed. Today is temporary and it too shall pass. Tomorrow will be temporary and it shall too pass. Everything is temporary- apart from Bruce Forsyth. Looks like we are stuck with him.

Ye will notice I missed Wednesday out because that's how I roll some weeks- I miss out complete days just for the sheer hell of it. Although I was in a rebellious mood and I did put a teabag in the wrong bin. And even worse than that I don't even care!

Catch yous all laters me ol' babbers. Have a good day.

Cockle on a Rock

Hello me ol' beauties. I am back from mines holidays in the wonderful Bude. Today I am going to tell you all about the adventure we had at the beautiful Hartland Quay and Speke Mills Waterfall-

T'was a bit of trek for my poor body but mines Mr Husband worked out how far it was to get there. T'was the same amount as back. We had a bit of a conflab because he wouldn't let me take me mobility walker - he said 'Ye can't take that ye little fruitcake - it be a narra, windy and rocky path up the side of a steep cliff'. I protested 'what if I needs a sit down'. Undeterred he said 'ye shall have to sit on the cliff edge'. So up we went. T'was worth the walk and worth the pain - the views were magnificent all the way up- well I was in front of him. The views I had over the sea were equally magnificent. When we found the falls we were in photograph heaven. I took pictures every which way I could. 

We stood breathing in the beauty of it. I looked at an adjacent cliff (look at me using big words an all)- I said to mines Mr Husband 'that would be a lovely cliff to photograph this from'. He looked. 'Ah', he said , T'would indeed- but far to high and far too dangerous to climb'. I sighed. I carried on photographing this way and that- with this camera and that. Then I looked across at the adjacent cliff again (there I go again!) and I spied a little man on the very top perched like a cockle on a rock.

 I said to Mines Mr Husband 'look at the cockmuppet on the top of the dangerously high cliff- there's always one cockmuppet who puts hiself in danger'. He never bothered to answer. Sometimes he doesn't answer me. He pretends he can't hear me. Then he says 'you speak too softly'. Then usually I say 'the's wanna wash ye ears out'. But sometimes, like this time, he just pretends he didn't hear me. I carried on taking photos of the waterfall. And a field with all black sheep in. Feckin brilliant idea if ye ask me. That way no-one feels the odd one out. Round all the black sheeps up and put them in one field- bit like my face book page. I turned around to point out the black sheeps to Mines Mr Husband- and there he was - GONE! Oh my days. I couldn't see him anywhere. I peered over edges of cliffs and I couldn't see him. There was no trees for him to hide behind. Then I looked up at the adjacent, steep and dangerous cliff (and again!!) and I pointed my camera at the top and zoomed in- Oh Lordy Lordy! I couldn't believe mines eyes. T'was mines Mr Husband- mines very own cockmuppet doing an impression of a cockle on a rock on the very top of the steep and dangerous cliff. He looked very concerned and very worried. Well who wouldn't be?. I thought 'oh feck- he doesn't know how to get down'. So I ran around in a little circle whilst I thought what to do. Then I shouted - 'who's thee next of kin? Where did ye put the insurance policy?' And then I shouted 'throw the car keys down to me'. Well I didn't wanna be stuck there all feckin night now did I? Then I thought 'Calm down, calm down- what do other people do when their cockmuppet gets stuck at the top of a steep and dangerous cliff?' I thought hard and then it was like someone switched a light on in me little head. I reached in me pocket and got me phone out. 'Take it for emergencies' mines Mr Husband had said before we left. This was just such and emergency. And that mines friends is how I managed to get the video of him coming down the cliff on his arse like a toddler coming down the stairs.............Suffice to say he had to change his trousers when he got to bottom- they was all covered in feckin mud! Sadly can't upload video to here because its too big- bit like the cliff top that mines Mr Husband sat upon!

Giving a Blow Job the right way....................

Another funny week

Tuesday - I can't believe what a misery arse mines Mr Husband is. Would you believe that now, not only I am not allowed to take my ironing board and exercise bike on holiday- he has actually made me unpack the ornaments and three pictures I had packed. He says we are going for a week and not feckin moving in. I know that ye eejit husband. I always think ye needs to make yeself feel at home on holiday. He said 'as it is ye have only booked us in three miles down the road, we can pop back if ye needs to see ye feckin ornaments'. Don't know why I bother sometimes!

Thursday - Oh my- you should see the tiny bit of clothes Mines Mr Husband has packed for holidays- whoopee- leaves room for ornaments!! Also he has packed swimming trunks- I have asked him 'what ye packs they for to go on holiday?' He said he might go swimming. 'Well', I said to him 'Ye haven't in 12 years, so I don't see it happening now'. So I took the swimming trunks and replaced with an ornament. Taking up feckin valuable ornament space with feckin trunks. What next? I asked if it was ok to take books. He said yes- I thought he would. He likes books. 'Good' I said 'how many boxes of books can I take?'. He looked at me (somewhat despairingly I thought) and said ' One. One book. Not one box'. Feckin cheers Mines Mr Husband- we only have the cookery books unpacked so far. I am opting for the 'greedy girls cookbook'. I am not letting him share mine. He might want to start experimenting in the kitchen and that always leads to heartburn.

Wednesday: So Far mines Mr husband has unpacked : The hand held cleaner; the bath mats; shower curtain; spare shower head; ornaments and three pictures; picture hanging set; hammer; set of saucepans (they always of have old knackered ones on holiday that your food sticks to); frying pan (ditto); set of basins; electric whisks; electric heater (WTF? it will be sure to be cold- and I know it is central heated but it might not be on!) However he has let me keep packed matches; pens; torch; and a ball of string.

Friday -

Well that was one of those nights that you wish you hadn't bothered to go to bed! Two hours sleep. Awake for five hours and one hour nap! And to top it all MMH was sat on the edge of his bed last night in his nuddy pants after his bath (cos that's how we bath in this house - call us old fashioned) I was just out of the shower also in my nuddy pants (cos that is also how we shower in this house) down on mines knees getting the hair dryer out (unbeknown to MMH) when he unwittingly asks for a blow job. I don't think he will be so quick to ask in future! He will at least check l am not holding my super duper hairdryer in my hand. I don't know whether it was the extra hot setting that did for him or the diffuser attachment. Either way it will be sometime before he can walk straight again!!

We did engage in some pillow talk last night (after the hairdryer incident) where it transpired that Mines Mr Husband lives with me and exercises great patience and tolerance. I asked why? Why the feck? He didn't seem to need much time to think about this. Apparently I have a lot of quacks and fur balls. One of them he suggests is that I am very clean but not very tidy. I pointed out that he is very tidy but not very clean- and I know which I would rather be! Cleanliness is next to Godliness me ol' granny used to say. She also used to say put clean knickers on when ye goes out in case ye gets hit by bus. I guess ye don't want all the passengers on the bus saying 'did ye see the state of her drawers?'. Anyways, not only but also, mines Mr Husband, now living dangerously continues that I lack 'logic'. What the feck??? 'I am,' I tell him, 'the most logical person I know of '. He says 'well ye don't now many peoples do ye?'. I have to remind him I am big in Alaska. Then he tells me I am beautiful (altogether now - AWW) then, get this, he claims that he is the one with the brains. 'Yes,' I says 'they are in your little furry balls' (which incidentally now dangle from his ears). I am not the one who went on a national game show with a head full of useless knowledge that didn't win us any money because I was sidetracked by a damsel in distress and therefore I forgot to use my brains. Now he is going to write me a list of all my quacks and fur balls. There could be another divorce statistic looming me thinks! He wants to be grateful we don't have enough feckin paper in this house for me to write a list of his!!

AND REMEMBER this guys - Happiness comes from within- that is why it is good to fart.

Sexy and Sultry Rude Girl

A funny old week- and in this order too........

Monday - Great evening in bed with Elvis again. No wonder me feckin hips are knackered. All that gyrating. All that singing, well the neighbours called it something else but I sure as hell don't remember feckin what. Can do it all again tomorrow night. I likes to be giving them a treat of my singing. I am sure that in time they will be enjoying it more. Last week according to mines Mr husband some came to the door with requests. 'What they request?' I asks him, getting me singing voice ready for more delightful sounds.  'That you shut the feck up' he says. He lied. They loves me really.

Friday - 'Happy Birthday to a wonderful sexy woman'- mines mr Husband read the text from my phone. I thought 'uh oh- here we go'. 'Why,' he asked, 'in Gawds feckin name have you sent yourself a birthday text'. 'Well', I said , 'I thought I may not get such a fabulous text from anyone else- and to be fair I didn't'. He left the room shaking his little bald head from side to side. I don't mean its bald from side to side- its more from top to bottom really. No he was shaking his head from side to side. He was muttering about little white jackets and straps. I think that's what he wants for his birthday. See what I can do- ever obliging am I!

Tuesday - Mines Mr Husband just asked if I know how to play chest. No sooner had he got the words out then I whipped me top off and me boobies out. 'No, no-' he cried- ' I said chess- not chest- you rude girl put your clothes back on'. I pouted (I have a very sultry sexy pout apparently- although its more likely to be wind these days!) 'lets not waste a good opportunity now I have them out' I pleaded- but no- he ran into the kitchen to do the dishes. I just don't understand mines Mr Husband sometimes!! On the plus side I think from now on I know how to get him to do the dishes....

Tuesday also -Watching Kate Middletons' hair dresser on cutting your own fringe- so you not supposed to cut it off in clumps! Mmm- can't see me changing that- I gotta cut what I can feckin see mate. Get the Kate Middleton look? Yeah- lets go for it- hopefully I will get meself a nice Prince William too......

Sunday - Mines Mr Husband thinks by evading the question 'Darling, how do I put the heating on myself' I will be thwarted. You would think after twelve years he should know me better. Ah- good old you tube- tonight when he is at work that thermostat is going to move up a notch or two and in the morning when I am forced out of bed at an ungodly hour when he decidest to clamber in and snore me out I shall be nice and warm as toasty. Don't mess with the Zohan and don't mess with the Beth!!

Saturday - I said to mines Mr Husband ' Seeing as I am struggling a bit with my mobility around the house I thought it would be super nice if we got a little helping hand around the house'. He knows it makes sense and it would save him having to wash up. He raised his bushy eyebrow- (yep guys- he hasn't done anything to his- they are all his own) he never spoke, he just raised his bushy eyebrow- with that 'well go on then, lets hear this' look. So I carried on. ' A maid we should have, a live in maid- to help me with dressing and undressing, showering and bathing, cooking and cleaning etc'. He raised his other bushy eye brow (yup- he still has both)- he looked more interested. His eyes lit up. 'And, erm where would this maid sleep my little pickled pumpkin?'- he looked a tad bit too hopeful if ye should ask me. 'In with me of

course- everything should be above board', I told him. He didn't seem sure. 'It shall be a naked maid'- I said. His bushy eyebrows stayed raised and his eyes lit up more and come out on stalks. 'Naked you say?' I nodded. Now he definitely looked more interested. 'Yep, naked' I continued- 'well apart from his dickie bow and his socks of course'- and that my friends is how the fight started.

Mines Mr Husband found out that I had packed the bath mat to take on holiday, (well I told him-I had to because he had to move the suitcase) but now he says that 'it is not normal to take your bath mats on holiday'. I said to him 'Bath mats need a feckin holiday too ye knows'. He ignored me and went on about how much the apartment was costing and it should be fully equipped so I was to unpack the bathmats, all the bedding, the shower curtain and the extra shower head. Also we only have a car and we are not hiring a feckin van just to go on holiday and why can't I be normal. I said 'I don't know why ye can't be feckin normal- I really don't'. Anyhows IMHO- ye can't be too careful when ye goes on holiday behinds other people. Other peoples can be dirty feckers and I don't want to be getting veruccas. Then he asked (cos he be damn nosy) why I kept staring at number 53 across the road and tutting. 'Tis because she at number 53, Mess (t'other half of Porky), she with the integrated bike rack (I have seen it when she was bent over pruning her bush) has left her kitchen cupboard door open and has gone out. And I am wondering why a) she has left it open - it is impairing my vision of her kitchen and b) where she has gone. Nobody tells me feckin anything g round yer.' Now he is tutting.

Tuesday - I learned they have name a place Wensleydale- you know after the cheese in Wallace and Grommit. I reckon they would feel right honoured to know that.

Shiny Taps, Obesessions and Pork

Well to be honest I was a tad disappointed with the birthday- twas a bit flat but all my facebook friends made me soooo happy. Also one little present from a person who truly is struggling made a lot of a difference. Being taken on a train track (twice) isn't normally my cuppa tea- but at least we had plenty of time given that there is a good five minutes betwixt trains. Mines birthday was made better by mines Mr Husband pointing out that actually I was 21 with 31 years experience and not 32 like I first thought- so I think I have gained a year! Yipee.
Also I dreamt I was shooting a stalker (not mine- someone elses- I would never shoot Johnny Depp)- in the head. Nothing was happening but the bangs were deafening. Then I woke up and realised it was just mines Mr Husband backfiring. I think his pistons are gone actually. I am still going back and forth and admiring mines shiny taps in mines bathroom- I think I may have developed a little obsession. 
Mines Mr Husband thinks it is not normal for a woman to pack the bathroom mats to take on holiday-I am sure I cannot be the only one?  What I haven't mentioned yet is that I am also packing a nice clean shower curtain and our spare shower head as well. Ye can't be too careful with stuff other peoples have used.

Well me ol' babbers that be it for today. Me Feckin hip is giving me jip and I have taken something nice and strong- looks like mines Mr Husband will dealing with his own pork this afternoon. I so hope he remembers the apple sauce.x

Happy Birthday and Sex on the Beach.

Thank you all for my birthday wishes and messages. It didn't look like it was shaping up into much of a birthday especially after Mines Mr Husband said I could have sex then cancelled both Johnny Depp and Colin Firth. Anyways we started off in a little place called Starcross near Dawlish. Seemed T'was just us two. Then, betwixt you and I, I think Mines Mr Husband was trying to get rid of me. First he took me across a live railway line. Very dangerous place to take someone with arferitis, but I can recommend it if you want to put a spark back in your relationship! Then he enticed me down some very dangerous steep steps onto a little used shingle beach. Well little used by peoples, much used by lots of birds though. We seemed to walk for ages. I tell ye, Mobility walkers are crap on shingle. I kept saying to him 'Mines Mr Husband, are you sure this tide is going out?' I tell ye I am the brains in this outfit. He kept saying the same thing 'I be quite sure mines little pickled pumpkin'. After a while he took me under the railway bridge- so say to see the kingfisher. To be fair I did catch a glimpse. And of the kingfisher. We just be settling down on a nice sunny patch of shingle and I started shouting 'It be coming, it be coming'. Mines Mr Husband said 'Not yet- I haven't got me coat off yet'. I panicked ' No look ye behind ye, the sea it be coming'. Again he tried to reassure me that it wasn't but he took a closer look. 'Mmm, yes' he said , 'I think ye probably right my little pickled pumpkin'. Oh my I thought I was going to drown right there and then. 'Would it be a good time to tell ye mines Mr Husband that I can't swim?' as water lapped mines feet. I tell ye, I am lucky to be alive-especially as he took me on the live railway lines on the way back as well. It be a good job I had me birthday suit on. There was a notice  with the Samaritans help line number on it on the fence. I took it off. I have saved for him. He will need someone to talk to if he tries to kill me again.

P.S. It was exciting having a birthday on a Thursday. I have never had a birthday on a Thursday before. It is always a Wednesday or a Friday.

Sex and Icing, The Pope and Haddock for Tea

I have been reading my emergency booklet. The government want us to keep alert. Well they be buggered cos I ain't doin' that. First they want us to keep migrants and now they want us to keep feckin lerts. I suppose they are gettin' in under the lorries as well now. Bet they want benefits as well. Well all the lerts can just feck right off. I gave mines Mr husband a number for antiterrorist from my booklet. He said 'no thank you pumpkin, I have heard enuff about your auntie terrorist and she sounds too scary for my liking'. Tis true. She is. You wouldn't want to tangle with her. Even the terrorist wouldn't want to tangle with her. Tomorrow mines Mr husband is going to town for icing for mines birthday. He also said I can have sex for my birthday so I am ringing Johnny Depp in the morning. Oh yes my friends I got life sorted. Also my cousin says that the terrorist are going to Rome to take the Pope out. I think that is a lovely gesture. Poor old Pope- sat in that feckin Vatican day and day out without seeing a feckin soul. I think it will be nice for him to get out and get a bit of fresh air. I wonders where they will take him? I reckon it will be nice if they stop off at Asda's as well and let him get a bit of something nice in for his tea. Nice bit of Haddock or something. Who says these terrorists are all heartless?

Swinging from the lampshade, Male Strippers and Icing

If Ye think I haven't been about much this week - well I have been busyish. First I had a new haircut. Well when I say new haircut- it's be the same hair and  Icut it meself as usual. I have since had a stiff neck cos me head needs cocking on one side now to make it look level. I knew this would happen as soon as mines little sister (the one with the issues and the day confusion) went away. Secondly we booked a surprise holiday for our 6th Wedding Anniversary later this month. Mines Mr Husband is all excited. I don't know why- the surprise is that I am going with the male stripper I have booked for mines birthday-and that be a surprise for mines Mr Husband too! Mines Mr Husband has asked me what I would like for mines Birthday. I told him I don't need anything and I would be happy with a birthday card and a cake with Icing. He just looked at me puzzled. 'Ok,' I said 'just the cake with Icing'. He still looked puzzled. 'Okay', I said 'just the damned Icing- as long as I don't have to roll it out meself'. So looks like me birthday will be me in me birfday suit and party hat in bed all day with a packet of Icing. Beats sitting in front the Jeremy Kyle show eating jelly out of a packet. Of course it has already started- birfday cakes eyeing me up from the shelves in the shops and asking to come home with me. Thirdly I had an 'emergency' dash to the osteopath when one of mines legs decided it really didn't want to play anymore. I thought mines osteopath he seemed like he was a) drunk; b) suffering from dementia. I thought 'mmm I have more to worry about than farting when he tries to lift mines leg above mines head today'. Then he started rambling about not doing what the other osteopath who had left wrote in mines notes. I told him I never seen the other osteopath because he had left. He argued a convincing case I must say. At first I thought 'Bad leg or not cocker I am going to get off this feckin bed in a minute and swing for ye-' (and not from the lampshade like I do for mines Mr Husband!). Then I thought that I was a) either drunk or b) suffering from dementia. He even brought my card over to show me the notes mines 'other osteopath' had written. 'Look', he said triumphantly, 'Richards writing; Your card'. I looked. Could have been Richards writing I agreed. Equally it could have been Uncle Tom Cobbley's. Then I look at the name. Mrs Kathleen Lucas. There didn't seem to be something right about that. Then It dawned on me I am Mrs Elisabeth Lucas (although not according to EDC- according to them I don't even exist). I triumphantly pointed this out to him. It took a while for it to dawn on him and he ran from the room leaving me half naked on his bed. Now I don't mind being half naked on a bed (even tied down) but when a man runs from a room............I thought-'well, thats never happened before- ye must be losing ye touch gal'. On his return he apologised and I said to him 'You eejit you- good job ye never feckin operated on me'. Anyways by way of making it up to me he did give me a damn good seeing to. He even asked very nicely if he could hold my bum whilst he pulled my something or other. 'Hold away' I said. Anyways leg marginally usable now and he repeated that I am not to do any jogging or climbing. Finally I have started a Dignitas Fund- I need £7000 and I have managed over the past year to save £40. I am saving in Ernest. He is my piggy bank. I only need £6000 and some more to go and then I am off to Switzerland to see Sven for me cheerio's. And before any of ye starts I tell ye this- I don't want to live until I am 103 or even 53 (omg- that's next year) in this much pains in a feckin nursin home chosen by mines darling children - (although tis true I have given this task to mines beautiful niece because she knows If I really need one of these places I need one with hunky male nurses). I want to go out of this world with a smile on me face sliding sideways down a Swiss mountain call Sven- I think he said something about his mountain. Or my mountain?? Anyway mountain was definitely mentioned. I hope you all had a better week than I.xx

Bushes, Bike Parking and Nipples

We was watching the advert for the new Vauxhall with the integrated bike rack. 'That be nice' said mines Mr Husband. 'Mmmm' I says 'I know someone with one of thems'. He was curious then. 'Who do ye know my pickled pumpkin with a new Vauxhall?' I don't know what he was on about - 'No-one' I says- 'I know someone with an integrated bike rack- her across the road- the family size gateaux shaped one- I've seen it when she bent over tending to her bush'. Mines Mr Husband looked very shocked that I noticed things like this- but I have all day to observe such peculiarities when he is at work. I also think tis a bit nippy tonight. I been out to get mines washing in. 'Tis bit nippy noodles out there' I said to him on my return- 'Put ye feckin clothes on then on- it not be good for ye nipples' he said. I nipped next door to she that be shaped like an ironing board. 'Do ye think it be cold me dear?' I asked her. She agreed- 'Yes, it is a bit chillier' she said. 'Turn thee heating up a bit then' I said- 'We feckin freezin in yer'. I don't think there was any need for her to take a swing at me. Tis supposed to be all economical this all electric, skinny bitch house. T'would be more economical if she would turn her feckin heatin up!! And on the plus side I have booked an anniversary holiday treat for me and mines Mr Husband- seeing as it is as anniversary on the same day as mine. I am beginning preparation for grand adventures!!

Davina, Bacon and Tit Bits

I be sure it ain't normal to fall asleep during ye workout but I do. Do ye all do that or is it just me? I bet Davina don't have this problem!  I ain't cut out for all this exercise malarky I tell ye. It ain't natural. I don't think it be good for me arferitis at all- it be hurting too much to get down on that exercise mat even. Then I have to roll round the living room looking for something to pull me poor aching tired body back up with. On the plus side I can see right under settee and today I found a pen top, a penny, a bit o bacon from me pizza t'other night, and a bit o chocolate. The bacon and the chocolate was still good to go- once I took the fluff off- tasty combination if I must say so mineself. Mines Mr Husband finds it all a bit disgusting. I says to him 'Ye would be glad enough to eat it if ye was hungry. And if ye would let me have a dog I wouldn't find bits of food on the floor cos he would beat me to it. And not only but also if I didn't have to get down and do these stupid workouts I wouldn't find 'em either cos I wouldn't see that far down'. I told him I ain't getting down for no more workouts. He said 'ye must me little pickled pumpkin- it be good for ye joints'. I told him straight the only thing that gets me down there is knowing I might find some food under the settee whilst I been down there-ye can find some tasty tit bits under there - ye can keep ye pen tops and ye pennies. (Secretly hoping he might put some cake down there everyday now to get me down there- and I won't be worrying about getting back up). I want to wish mines little sister (the one with the issues and the day confusion) all the best in her new adventures- don't be getting yeself into any trouble and keep away from the freaks!! We shall miss ye. xxxx

Boobies, Knickers, and Fashion Faux Pas

Ye all been thinking that I been very quiet this week. Well I been very busy. Monday I did visit mines Mother and Father and Mines children and mines Mr Ex husband and mines sister (the one with the issues and the day confusion).T'was when mines Mr Husband found he was having car issues and T'was just before his nipples fell off! Then Tuesday I went to Tesco- tis always a long day. I don't want to start Jam Sponge Pudding Gate again but Mines Mr Husband also pointed not only do thems food banks want JSP they want feckin custard to go with it. Mines Mr Husband won't let me go to tesco again if I am going to rant all the way home he said. Also I stripped off and tried new PJ's on in Aisle 3. Made the manager cross so I did- he has warned me about this before. I said 'No ye didn't- T'was when I tried knickers on before'. Yesterday we went Torquay. As soon as we got there Mines Mr Husband saw the bouncy castle. Then it started 'I wanna go on the bouncy castle, Please let me go on the bouncy castle'. Nag, nag, nag. Then he said 'No- mines little fruitcake- no bouncy castle for you. The last time you bounced too hard and that little child bounced off and went over the sea wall didn't he?' I reminded him T'was not my fault if a stupid mother puts a child on a bouncy castle. Who is that stupid I Ask you? They are not places for children. No Siree. Then he said ' The answer is still no. You got that bladder thingy problem and soon as ye jumps and downs its like a feckin flood. Plus that there squeaking I am sure was your rear end and not the bouncy castle. If ye asks to go on it again I will put you in the car and take you back home. And keep your clothes on'. I only pointed out one fashion faux pas on this trip - all I said was 'Jeez woman, are you feckin mad? A white dress, with a navy bra? and orange knickers with blue spots? Don't ye have any fashion sense? ' I thought she was a tad irritable meself- (probably PMT) but fortunately I am good at ducking. DUCKING I said. I thought 'mmm, good jobs mines Mr Husband got a bit of padding round his middle or that could have really hurt him'. Mines Mr Husband often commends me on my ducking skills. I think that's what he said. Then we saw the Red Arrows. The weather was a bit iffy and they said they didn't know if the Red Arrows would come. So I thought 'well I have never been one to be put off by a drop of rain' and I climbed on the sea wall and Mines Mr Husband said 'Come down off of there at once'. I said 'no, if the red arrows don't come all these peoples will be disappointed so I am going to show them my boobies'. The man from the BBC was on the sea wall. I am sorry he fell off when I lifted my top. T'was a shock for him. Anways the red arrows came and the one that went round the garden on Sunday- I am sure he waved and shouted out 'Show us ye knickers sex kitten'. So I did. I am sorry the man from the BBC fell off the wall again. Today I helped mines Mr Husband mend the car because I am the brains in this outfit. Also had to protect mines nipples. Going to be somewhat quieter now I thinks cos mines Mr Husband is working - Saturday is coming and is sing along with Beth and Elvis day but mines Mr Husband will be sleeping so I guess I will just be miming. 

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!!

Balls, Boobies and Free Chocolate

So it seems the apology issued yesterday was not quite enough to appease mines Mr Husband and he still says that until I can behave I cannot go again. So more apologies go to:

All the people I terrified who left the water when I stood in the sea shouting 'Shark, Shark- run for your lives' - apparently it was not the shouting that was that problem - it was mines emptying the fake blood into the sea that caused the panic- so sorry about that folks- twice (because I did it twice!but it was fun).

I have to say sorry to the sea worldy place for standing and arguing with the assistant and insisting that they change the description of the white shark to grey because strictly speaking they are grey. Apparently it is not misrepresentation because they have been officially named as white sharks. Tis a big fat lie I tell ye. They are grey. And I suppose I shouldn't have pushed ye into the tank with they buggers cos you did get a nasty ol' nip from one- ye should have just taken my complaint on board and not argued back. Could have save yeself a mass of trouble and ye wouldn't have a chunk missing from ye arse.

To ye olde organ grinder - I am sorry I ground your organ so hard- but twerking be all the rage now. Also I thought ye would like to know your little cappuccino monkey has fitted in nicely with me snow leopards and me wonkey donkeys.

I am sorry to all the shoppers in the supermarket who got arrested because I told ye the chocolate was free today. Did ye not think it was a bit strange that I be standing there with me knickers on me head giving away Dime bars?

To ye man with a funny walk- I only asked if ye sand in crack or if ye had caught any crabs because I was concerned for ye. I wasn't being nosy- honest. There was no need for that language.

To ye olde man that was singing on the promenade- I suppose I shouldn't have that microphone so far up ye arse but ye really was an insult to crooners all world over- ye more like an old croaker. I apologise to the paramedics who had to remove said microphone. Also to ye bit younger man who was singing and said he had been on the X Factor- I told ye I had been on X Factor. I was mistaken. I checked with mines Mr Husband- it was the Max Factor not the X Factor. (BTW your singing is crap which is why ye are now singing on the prom in Torquay and not the stage at the O2 arena.)

To the woman with the nuclear dress - I shouldn't have offered mines Mr Husband to help ye put ye boobies back in- but he is expert with boobies and nipples so he is! How was we supposed to know you had chosen that look especially for the beach.

And finally to ye man who owned the little shop that sold buckets and spades- I am sorry I bounced all ye balls down ye road there- and I am sorry you got hit by the bus trying to retrieve them- but t'was fun wasn't it? If ye like I could visit in ye hospital- (provided it not be in one I be banned from).

Nipples and Melted Chocolate

Don't you just love it gals - the euphoria when after a long day out you get home and rip that darn bra off and find all the lovely memories of the days meals? Yesterday I found a bit of Farley (don't be ye questioning me about my choice in cereal- I bought they on me holidays when I was with mines Little Sister (the one with the issues and day confusion)- and a blob of yogurt; a bit of pulled pork with chilli jam (stuck to me nipple); half a chip; bit of an onion ring (I think) and a chocolate button (melted, but still edible). Bra's definitely have their uses - without them not only would I have nipple burns from their rubbing along the ground but all me bits of dinner would have been lost to the seagulls!

Cracks, Labias flapping and crabs................

Mines Mr Husband took me for a little amble yesterday- on account of him being at work the rest of the week and to stop boredom and rigamortis setting in for me whilst he is there. We started off in a grand little place called Shaldon and somehow ended up in Torquay- we are quite fond of Torquay. However, he has told me I cannot again unless I issue the following apologies- so here goes: Apologies to

To the little fat kid whom I asked for a lick of his ice cream- despite your refusal I did manage to get the chocolate flake. In my defence I have to say I do have a chocolate addiction. And I am sorry for telling you the Karma bogey man would get you if you didn't share.

To the old man and the old woman on the bench- I shouldn't have told you the grim reaper was stood behind you just to get you to move off that bench - to be fair it did backfire a bit because as it turns out he was stood behind you- and to the old lady- I am sorry to hear about your loss.

To the girl in the lime green boob tube dress thingy- I probably shouldn't have told you that it was two sizes to small and we could see you your two sizes too small thong, a spare tyre and almost all of your white?? bra and your bra labels 34b flapping around in the breeze. I bet with that thong being two sizes too small your labels on your bra weren't the only thing flapping in the breeze.

To ALL of the party size gateaux from Iceland shaped women with legs like tree trunks who thought for some reason it would be a good idea to wear mini skirts and size 12 shorts and treat us all to thigh slapping and severe flesh wobbling and crack flashing I apologise for pointing it out- although really? Come on- I know you are on holiday but just because you are party size gateaux from Iceland shaped you can't where is my sense of decency where other people are eating. Nuff said.

To the young man carrying the rather large (empty) crab bucket- I probably shouldn't have pointed out that the girl you were with would soon fill that for you if you carried on dating her- and I know you think I might not know her from Adam but trust me on this- she is definitely not Adam!

To the two mothers on the seafront who were busy looking at their phones- I swapped your babies over but you probably still haven't looked up yet. The baby in the blue sun hat needs his arse changing btw.

I cannot apologise to the young man who I am sure was Harry Styles for winking and twerking in your one direction. Serves you right for smiling in mine!

Also I cannot apologise to the young man to whom I gave my hairbrush- 'Just got out of bed hairstyle, and can you see last nights pizza's and a used condom in it'- Torquay is not the place to sport it. I spent all feckin day trying to get people to look respectable and sort themselves out and then you come along and spoil the whole town with that hair. Get a grip man- or a packet full and pin some of it into place.

To mines Mr Husband - I hope these apologies suffice and please take me again...........

What type of Pussy is yours Madam? and Down on all Fours!

Tis quite quiet round ye know. I think all the kids in the neighbourhood are off with all their fathers and sperm donors for the summer holidays. Ye haven't heard me rave about the neighbours much yet. Well apart from Chloe and Daddy and his brats two doors down. And ye I did mention she next door at 19 - the ironing board shaped one with nice shaped bottom. The other night I heard someone running down our stairs at 4am. I mentioned this to mines Mr Husband. He said it wasn't him. He was tucked up in his little bed. He suggested it may have been one of the neighbours- perhaps her next door- the ironing board shaped one with the nice shaped bottom. I would like to know why she was running down OUR stairs at 4am in the morning. I may have to have words with her. She could be a little more quiet going down our stairs at such an ungodly hour. Also I may have mentioned the skinny bitches over the road and their penchant for jogging which seems to have stopped since I growled at them when I was having a little stroll around the block one morning. Don't trust skinny people who jog and don't eat cake. Over there also are Porky and Mess who are more Pork pie and Cake shaped and most certainly wouldn't let a dirty word like 'jogging' pass their lips- no room to let it- everything else is busy passing through their lips. Also they like Pizza- big ones. And they like soft loo rolls. I know this because I seen them take some in with the shopping. I always wondered what kind of people ate soft loo rolls. Such people do exist! Google it. I thought she had a scruffy ginger pussy and then I thought she had an altogether much neater black one- but I seen Porky refusing it at the entrance the other day so I am not sure which pussy is hers. Or even if she has one! Oe-er, all these pussies must belong somewhere. I have yet to encounter Jamie, wife and bump next door. I have seen the back of her (skinny bitch) and her bump- she has a very unkempt black and white pussy. But as I have said before- bitches with bumps just don't be having the time or inclination to be keeping thems pussies neat. They can't see much below thems bumps and even if an unkempt pussy winds itself around your legs you can only feel it and not necessarily see it. I trust when bump has arrived pussy will get some attention if it is lucky. I have  glimpsed him (Jamie) as he went by in the car. He has a beard and an elbow. She at number 25 has new windows. Over back in t'social housing - the cake shaped woman that squeezes into a bright yellow dress and has dyed red hair- well I haven't seen them for ages. That trampoline will be rusty soon. I may have to go over and just have a bounce or two so I can see through windows to see what is going on. On corner, up yonder, in big house she got a lot of kids. They be all different-like the league of feckin nations. Usually her kids can be seen playing in middle of road- the sort that stand and stare at you like you have no business driving your car in the road where they are playing quite happily. How very dare we? Saturdays is quiet when a whole load of dads line up on the path to collect his child. Or even someone else's - who even knows? We like Saturdays -at least we can drive confidently down the road without fear of a little urchin lurching itself out in front of us and giving us the evil eye. On this corner here a little yappy dog seems to be the sole inhabitant of the house. No-one goes in and no-one comes out. The little dog yaps and yaps. No-one goes in and no-one comes out. No wonder for that little dog's yapping gets right on ye tits. But fear ye not friends for I shall continue to watch and make notes. But I leave ye with one of me tips because I want to be going out now to buy some pink grass:

Tip of the night- I say night- 6.45am is the middle of the night for me- don't go knocking over a glass of bitter lemon juice off ye bedside when he husband sneaks into ye for a cuddle. Why? (No- not why did he he sneak in for cuddle- he always be doing that)- but why not knock a glass of bitter lemon juice off ye bedside? Cos it makes a feckin mess I tell ye. Ye give the landlord sticky patches in places he didn't know he had places. Also Ye gets yeself sticky drawers and knobs and cracks. 6.45am I was naked (all bar one fluffy bed sock) down on me hands and knees, arse (cute) in the air, with soapy water and sponge trying to clean sticky patches off carpet and off drawers and Knobs and Cracks!! Then I says to mines Mr Husband who was running round naked like a headless chicken- 'I think I shall get a rug down yer'- and he said 'just don't be trimming for a week me little fruitcake'. I inhaled his remark and repeated ' I think I shall get a rug down yer'- and he said 'that won't be all ye shall be getting if ye staying in that position for much longer- ye shall be getting a stiff neck'. Ye see guys what I have to put up with- he be wicked!

 

Getting mines boobies photographed...........

Today I had to be brave and go and have mines boobies squashed flat into a machine. Flat enough to be able to put them in an envelope and send them home. Not because I am liking the idea- no siree. But because I thought it will stop peoples nagging me. Mostly the boobies photographing peoples. I expressed to mines Mr Husband the worry I had of messing up the nice nurses machine with my magnetic patches for mines arthritis. 'No worries mine little fruitcake' he said reassuringly, 'Your boobies are no where near your magnetic patches'- I smiled happily that he still thought my more than ample bosom still so pert- then he added 'your boobies are down by your knees so I am sure they won't be able to pick up the magnets on your hips!!!'. And that my friends is why he is on ward 14 and I had to go and have mines boobies photographed all alone!

Well tis how it happened mines mammuffgramthingy and I have to say when they tell you it is not painful they are feckin lying. Nice short arsed nurse - 'I am Alison your receptionist today' took all my details and carried out the Spanish Inquisition all over again to find out why I didn't go two years ago. 'Because I didn't want to' and 'Because we all have to do die of something' and 'Because I don't want to die healthy' didn't cut any ice with the head shaking and tutting Alison. 'Look missus, they be my tits and I do what I fair like with them'. She showed me in a cubicle- what a shenanigans that be. 'Take your top off. Take your bra off (yes I had one on for decency sake and to stop nipple burns on pavement) and put Top back on'. A few minutes late 'I am Alison your receptionist today' put her head through the other side of the cubicle and invited me into the 'machine' room where I was promptly told 'take your top off' again. Then taking one look she says 'Oh- okay, lift your skirt up then'. Fortunately 'I am Alison your receptionist was just the right height'. I wondered why they picked her, now I know because she is booby/knee height. Then she introduced herself as 'I am Alison your radiographer today'. 'There is a woman called Alison just like you t'other side of this wall' I informed her. She never flinched. I concluded that either there is a shortage of photographing boobies staff, or a shortage of short people who can see boobies at knee height. Or two identical Alisons. She needed to lift mines boobies up and place on to a machine at my chin height. I said 'ye be needing both hands to be lifting they me ol' babbers- they be hefty'. She slapped them on a cold slab and then squashed them in between to bits of cold feckin glass and said 'this won't hurt a bit'. Then she twisted them round and in different directions. Even mines Mr Husband don't be doing that with them. Although I did have them all tangled up in me walker thingy a couple of times at zoo last week when I was getting ready for the wrecking ball and elephants trunk. Anyways ' I am Alison your receptionist cum radiographer today' -well she lied. It did hurt. A lot. So now 'I am Alison your receptionist cum radiographer today' is still trying to get her head free from the booby machine. She said as best she could in strained and strangled voice- 'pull your skirt back down and put your top on and have yourself a little treat'. It never said anything about a little treat but seeing her head squashed in there was treat enough treat for me. Oh alright ye know me so well. I had chocolate as well. Mines poor boobies are used to being photographed but not like this and now my poor ample bosom resembles two pancakes. I shan't be going again!

Smurfs and Blue Boobies

Oh ye Gods. I have had the fright of mines life! Mines Mr Husband is goodly soul (goodly- not godly) so he kindly ran me a nice bath with epsom salts to ease my cramp and give me magnesium (tis true we need this in our bodies). I took my lovely new dress off and sunk into my loverly hot bath (because bathing with ones clothes on is plain stupidity- unless ye are pushed in then thats different!). I had a little soak and then I opened my eyes and oh my days my body was going blue. Mine hands and arms was blue, mine knees was blue and so was mines boobies (which reside somewhere near mines knees these days!). I lifted mines arms and underneath was blue. I gasped! Then I panicked. 'Come quickly Mines Mr Husband, come quickly- I am turning into a smurf- call the 999 peoples'. He came quickly (just like a man). 'what is the matter mines little fruitcake? Why all the panic and shouting'. I could have sworn I had told him already. 'Oh Lordy Lordy - I am turning into a smurf. Look at mines blue hands. Look at my blue knees and boobies. And look under mines arms'. He looked. 'You look fine to me', he said - 'you are not turning into a smurf- you are not blue'. I Showed him my wash cloth. 'There you go ' he said 'it's not blue, tis green- tis the dye is running out of your wash cloth'. I looked at my wash cloth 'you feckin eejit' I said 'the wash cloth was white when I got in the bath- we only have white'. We argued back and forth and he wouldn't call the 999 peoples. He said that turning blue or green or any other colour is not an emergency. (I think there is an argument for that somewhere in my little book of emergencies!). Then he said 'tis off your new frock fruitcake- tis the dye'- I thought about this slightly before saying 'But mines new dress is yellow'. Then he started the argument that the new dress is green. 'Ye is colour blind ye daft sod' I said. Anyways I have checked the dress- I could have sworn I have been wearing a yellow dress all day- but tis a bluey green. Think I should have washed it first perhaps! Anyways I have got some of the blue off but I dare not go out for a few days in case I be mistaked for a smurf and added to a collection on a shelf somewhere!

Just a Quickie..........

Mines Mr Husband is taking me today for a treat. He doesn't know it yet. But He is. Just remember this ye folks- Every tip I give ye is worth it's weight in salt. Today's tip is this; fitness pants DO NOT make ye fitter. Buy trousers that fits. Don't wear ye knickers on ye head in Tesco (but ye should get away with it in Asda- they ain't so fussy). Actually don't wear ye knickers. Remember all my advice is sound. If I give thee personal advice then tis just as valid and recall it when make ye decisions! Loves ye all. I am off on adventures!!

Sliding down the trunk and filling the pussies.

I have been very busy. We had mines Mr Husbands little child down for the week. The six foot two one. The six foot two child - not week. That would just be silly. We didn't really know what to do with him. He wanted to see the local sights. I misunderstood this and mines Mr Husband made me put mines clothes back on - again. Three times he made me put mines clothes back on. So I said I could take him round the social housing part of the estate- there be some sights for sore eyes on there but mines Mr Husband said that he didn't want him traumatised so we decided to take him to the zoo. It be a heck of trek for mines poor body but I have a nifty mobile walker thingy that mines father gave me. So T'was not all lost. Plus I did want to see if I could get mines self a penguin to go with mines snow leopards and wonkey donkeys. I packed an empty bag and a tin of 'lure a penguin tuna' so I could sneak one in. Mines Mr Husband drove us and took us on a detour first of all and we became slightly geographically misplaced for a short while. I didn't ever thinks we would ever get there at this rate. In fact we didn't think we would get there for a few days. There were ever so many tantrummy, screamy, naughty step brats at the zoo who have all spent their short lives being super nanny disciplined. (To no real effect it seems at all). They was really getting on my tits and under mines feet. I clipped one round the ear as often as I could. Well not the same one. That just would have been cruel. Just random ones as they ran by screaming. 'Screaming is no place for a zoo, and the zoo is no place for children' I told them. I thought it would be a good idea to feed these brats to the big cats. As it happens it is frowned upon by society to feed the little darlings to the big cats. Did ye know that? Neither did I until this week. But I Tell ye what there was a few satisfied looking pussies at the zoo that day by the time I had finished. I even think some of the mothers looked quite pleased. And one even patted me on the back. Bit too hard and over enthusiastic if ye ask me. I nearly choked on me ice-cream. On reflection maybe she wasn't so pleased as I thought. Just can't tell with people can ye? I also had some fun sliding down the elephants trunk. Then I spotted the wrecking ball in the Elephants garden and that was when it all kicked off really because you know me and wrecking balls. Move over Miley. The clothes came off, my singing voice kicked it and the wrecking ball was going like a good un'. Although it has to be said that chain could have done with a clean- I now have rusty coloured chafing between my thighs. A crowd had gathered. Apparently that was not the kind of entertainment that they had lined up for that day but that was what I gave them. They had been waiting for a talk by all accounts about elephants and conversation. So every now and then between singing me song I would shout out random things like 'Look an elephant', or 'The elephant has a slippery trunk'. I even sang Nellie the Elephant packed her trunk in between verses of Wrecking Ball. Mines Mr Husband and his little child of six foot two, who was by now getting quite traumatised (because he dropped his phone in the crowd with all the excitement and he was afraid he may miss a text), tried to coax me back out of the elephant enclosure with buns. 'I will not be tempted' I cried throwing them to the elephant. 'I will need considerably bigger buns- with icing and cherries'. In the end I was tempted down with a rum and coke and a big bar of chocolate and picture of Johnny Depp Naked. Also I was made to put mines clothes back on. Pity really cos I was just getting warmed up! We were only allowed to stay because mines Mr Husband pleaded with the keepers to think of his little six foot two child who had been looking forward to a day out at the zoo with his daddy for 29 years. 'Don't break my little child's heart please' he pleaded. They let us stay on the condition that he kept a very close eye on me and give me medication again.! Cheek of it. Fifty feckin something I am. I thought I was doing the zoo a favour so I did. Bit of entertainment for the troops. Free entertainment at that. I managed to get all the way round without too much trouble. I was able to have a swing with the orang-utans without getting noticed- thank feck for orange cardigans at George that's what I say. I managed to sneak in a ride on a zebra by removing all mines clothes again. I sunbathed naked under a palm tree last week in Torquay and got stripy sunburn so I fitted in quite nicely with the Zebras. Then I had a ride on a ostrich. T'was nice and fluffy on my much chafed inner thighs. All the time Mines Mr Husband and his little child was too busy and Mines Mr Husband really failed the zoo keepers badly by taking his eye off the ball but I kept mine on his. I curled up and had a nap in the shadow of the giant tortoise - he had barely moved in an hour so I wasn't noticed. Well I almost got discovered by a small brat. 'Ooh look that tortoise is orange'- I heard the brat say. 'That's because that's the colour of mines feckin' cardigan you little eejit', I snarled at him. He cried. He was lucky the pussy in yonder enclosure was full.

I couldn't get a penguin because they didn't have any. What kind of a feckin zoo don't be having a penguin or two? But to my credit I did manage to procure mineself a pelican (nearly the same thing- it goes in water, eats fish and begins with a P), two meerkats, (although I did have to buy a considerable amount of insurance from them first)  and a crocodile - which I let loose first in the gift shop so that I wouldn't need to feed him for a few weeks. Also got meself a talking telescope so now I always have someone to talk to at home. Now I am definitely banned from that zoo but it be ok because mine own zoo is coming along very nicely and mines Mr Husband has been busy putting up nice secure fencing to stop would be crocodile thieves.  There be criminals on this estate- I read it in the papers.