Nipples, Adult Stuff and Fifty Shades of Grey

Mines Mr Husband is going to buy me an exercise bike so that I can go and join in with this naked cycling day without leaving the house. He thinks it be safer for me nipples like this. He be afraid they will catch in the chain and I will go ass over tip over handlebars and cause chaos. Why didn't I know about this naked cycling lark before?Ye all been keepin it from me I reckon. Got thrown out of Argos because while I was waiting and waiting for me order wrecking ball came on the radio- thier choice of music not  mines fault! I stripped off and got a space hopper off the shelf. Then I got chucked out of Homebase next door- how the feck was I to know there wasn't supposed to be loo roll next to the loo in the bathroom. Went all round the shop with me drawers round me ankles shouting loo roll. Also loo wasn't plumbed in. Was that my fault? I don't feckin thinks so!!  Also went to Sainsburys. I was well behaved til I got to the checkout. It is here I usually have a bit of chocolate whilst waiting for the girl at the till to get a wriggle on and checkout me shopping. But now they have moved the chocolate and apparently it wasn't free 'help yourself because you could be waiitng a long time'. They have replaced the chocolate with colouring in books- and no pencils. Crap! So I coloured in a few with me lipstick. Then I found 'adult colouring in books'. Old lady next to me also expressed an interest. She thought, the same as I to be honest, that it would be based on fifty shades of grey only with colour. No it feckin wasn't. It was all flowers and stuff. Talk about miffed. Miffed we both was- good and proper. Where is the point on putting feckin 'adult' on the front if ain't really for adults? She kicked off and so did I. 'Don't start her off Mrs', said mines Mr Husband 'she don't need no encouragement'.  She said the only knob in sight was the manager and it was disgusting and false misrepresentation I had to agree. Anyways now we both banned but on the plus side I got a new friend! Be back laters to tell ye all bout the new neighbours of Cranbrook.

Spank me very much...............

Well it has been sure nice today not to have to rush around doing stuff at the old house. I only had to go for an x-ray on me poor old spine - that feckin woman poked my hips 'trying to find them'. I told her they was under a layer of cake- it can't be helped- cake is soooo nice. Also the ironing board shaped woman next door has painted her fence in pastel colour stripes. It looks like a block of neopolitan icecream and you know me and ice cream guys- I just couldn't resist a lick. Now she is telling the other neighbours that I am a bit odd- cheeky wench! She is the odd one painting her fence to look like ice cream. Also I am not sure moving to a house with sooo many loos is a good idea. I keep struggling up the stairs (because thats how it be for me now)- then getting to bathroom and then mines Mr Husband shouts if I am alright and what am I doing. Then I tell him 'It be ok, I am just coming up for a wee'. Then he says 'Why the feck don't use the downstairs loo?'. Bugger, Bugger, Bugger. I forgot. Also by then I have passed another one.. I did just the same tonight and then I couldn't get out because the lock jammed. I don't mind telling ye I was all of a panick. I yelled for mines Mr Husband ' Fire, fire', I shouted. He came running up the stairs with his hose in his hand. 'Where is the fire mines wife'. I had to admit there wasn't one. 'There isn't one but I wanted you to hurry. I be locked in the lavatory and I be afraid of being here from Monday til Saturday and I be about to have a major panic attack'. He fought with the lock from t'other side- Remember how they used to open with a penny? Now its a £2 coin that does the job. That be inflation that be. Mines Mr Husband don't be carrying cash (so don't be bothering to rob him)- but he used a key to get me free. 'My hero', I said. 'My cuckoo, everso slightly de-ranged wife'- he said. 'Why the feckin hell did ye lock the door?'. 'Have ye not heard of privacy?' I asked. 'Don't be locking the door again when ye go for a wee'- he chastised, 'and use the loo down stairs'. So Beth Anne, that's wrists slapped and ears burnt. That be me told!! I bent forward 'May as well slap me arse', I said- 'please'. Well there be no harm in trying!! Tomorrow is another day and I wish I was on holiday with little sister (the one with the issues)- then I may be able to have some fun!

Nipples, Bedroom Bouncing, and Chocolate

Well guys we have finally done it- the old house is empty and handed back and sparkling like new. The osteopath forbid me to do any cleaning or work yesterday but I ignored him I am afraid (but I am paying dearly for it today- the pain is toooo much today- but at least all our deposit comes back). I told Mrs Droopy Drawers the agent if I don't get it back in full I will be very feckin angry and ye won't like me when I am very feckin angry. Don't mess with the Zohan or the Beth! I want to thank my little sister (the one with the issues not the pyschotic one with all the kids and the camel toe!) for letting me dump all my junk in her bedroom! And I had a bounce on her bed. Go me!! Plenty more junk where that came from too as we have room for nothing else now. Even mines Mr Husband has been relegated to sleeping in the garden. Although it could be that he just is stuck behind that load of boxes. And I have not yet mastered the vertical limbo to get in the shower cubicle- it be no good for nipples that door I tell ye. The neighbours are all a joggy lot- I am not telling the osteo- he will have me on that game next and I haven't forgiven him for mentioning aqua whatsabics yet. Telling me to give up chocolate and start excerising indeed my arse! I be absolutely knackered and I will get back to ye all as soon as the adventures can begin. Mines Mr Husband has gone to work for a feckin rest- I have to stay here because I am truly wicked and there ain't no rest for they buggers (sssh don't tell him but I am in bed eating chocolates and then I am going to watch long lost family on t'internet because this way I may see some of mines long lost family!!) I will be back soon because I am like Arnie Oldsportsandknickers. Loves ya all.xxxx

Jack and Jill Went up the Hill.......................................

Jack met Jill and he was smitten. She was a bit of a tearaway and felt unloved. So Jack married her and gave her a home. She wanted a baby but Jack wanted to be responsible and have enough money to give his kids a good life. But Jill came off the pill and tricked him. They had a baby. Jack fell in love with the baby, as did Jill. For a while the three of them lived up the hill and were very happy. But Jill decided that Jack had quite a few faults and she tried to change him. But Jack wasn't quite ready. So Jill decided to kick Jack up the arse and out on his ear. He pleaded with Jill but she was a hard faced cow and had her mind made up. Still Jack came back and pleaded some more. Jill liked the way that sometimes Jack still made her feel and along came baby number two. But Jill was a hard faced cow and told Jack the baby is mine this time and don't come back. Jill saw her solicitor and divorced poor Jack and made him sign to say he would pay everyday for what was his. Then Jill let Jack baby sit day in and day, and pay for the food and nice days out until Jill met Peter and Paul, Tom, Dick and Harry. Eventually she settled for Little Boy Blue because he was younger and she could blow on his horn. She was a hard faced cow and sent Jack packing again with 'and don't come back'. She wanted a new life with Little Blue Boy and Jack was bereft. Jill and Little Boy Blue changed the kids surname and tried to cut Jack right out of their lives and told the kids that daddy was a dead beat and he didn't care. Jack wept and wept until he eventually decided no more to weep and met up with Little Bo Peep. Little Bo Beep said all was ok and he was entitled to see his kids and so he did. But Jill was jealous of Little Bo Peep and she was a hard faced cow. So she was unkind to Little Bo Peep and she tried and she tried to stop access by Jack to his two little boys. She told them daddy was a dead beat and not any good. And in fact they should just call him Jack. Eventually Little Bo Peep got lost with the sheep and Jack was lonely and bereft. He wept and wept. He took a big stick and filled his best hanky with snot and off he went into the big wide world to seek his fortune and bury his sorrows. Eventually he met Miss Whiplash from Venus. She knew he had faults but she would whip his arse into shape and would love her bits. His kids were now grown and Little Boy Blue didn't love them like his own. But still the kids thought Jack was a deadbeat and that he didn't care. But Jack thought of them everyday and every night and knew that one day they would see what a hard face cow Jill had been and all he had wanted was to be a good dad. They grew up into fine young men and had kids of their own. They knew how hard it was to be a good dad. They knew what a swine was Little Boy Blue. And what hard faced cow was Jill. Yet Jack he wanted to be a good dad still. That though is what is sad. Because Jack was denied the right to a role in the lives of his boys he found it real hard to know how to behave- you see you need to practice everyday to be a good dad. Whereas being a hard face cow comes natural to some. His sons don't know how to be good to poor Jack. Every birthday and every fathers day and every Christmas day Jack is reminded what Jill has done in teaching her boys they had a dead beat dad. And Little Boy Blue get his horn blowed and showered with gifts he barely deserves. Poor Jack sits with Miss Whiplash from venus - but he knows for sure she will always love him to bits.

Neighbours Tits, Stripping in the Bedroom, Bush Envy Again!

We have moved- almost. We hired two men and a van. I am thinking I want some of my money back because we actually only got one and a half. But to be fair they did sweat a fair bit- at one point I heard bedroom and stripped. I ran up and took me clothes off. I thought T'was an invite. Well what would you do? Anyway- what apparently was said that that was the bedroom stripped! T'was just after that they sweated quite a lot. Gladly for me they didn't call the policemans.

The new house is nice but you know how certain shops only do clothes for skinny bitches? Well it seems these yer houses were built for skinny bitches too.

I have to do a feckin vertical limbo dance to get in the shower. T'wasn't built for cake people.

We be piled high with boxes. I couldn't find mines Mr Husband this morning. I tapped on all the boxes. No reply. Did get a meow from one so I think I may have packed the cat. What ye mean I don't have a cat? Bugger. So I don't. Well there ye have it. I have packed somebody's feckin cat. Bet it was PTYND's pussy. Was always creeping round my bush. Anyways I ended up ringing his mobile. 'Where the feck are thee?' I asked him. 'Where the feck are thee?' he asked. 'I'M ON ME MOBILE', I said. 'I'm at work', said he. Work? At Feckin Work?? 'What ye doing there' I demands to know. You know what he said ? No? I tell what he said- he said he was having a feckin rest and hiding from me so he didn't have to carry anymore feckin boxes. Oh my days. Turns out he was there yesterday as well. So that solved that mystery. If ye hears him shouting tonight it will be because I am tying him to the bed to stop him escaping again!

I hear ye askin what about ye neighbours? Well I haven't got to speak to any yet- I am a bit shy and have aspergers so I shall just be looking for now.

I have observed that she at number 53 across the way is probably my kinda girl- she is cake shaped and he is pork pie shape. I am not to keen on her at number 49 though- she goes jogging and to the gym. I have had some run ins with joggers in the past although mines Mr Husband swears blind that it be me own fault for telling them they will need to jog much harder if they want to get that fat of that arse, and you need a better sports bra. I thought I was offering sound advice. I do like to offer sound advice. So I tried to be nicer- I even had mines Mr Husband stop for one so we could offer him a lift- he just called us perverted morons. Well that's the last jogger I shall be nice too. She next door at 23 is a Rebecca Adlington look alike- with new nose and all and bit too smiley for my liking. I don't trust people who smile first thing on the morning. It ain't natural I tell ye. T'other side at number 19 is another young girl- she looks a bit more sullen and a bit too ironing board shaped if you ask me. She doesn't look like a cake person. I don't like non-cake persons. Not to be trusted either. Also not good for mines Mr Husband to see her bent over- he has a bit of blood pressure trouble. Over yonder you can see from bedroom window, in t'social housing, I can see in the house with the big trampoline and plastic slide and the gateaux (party size) shaped woman with fluorescent pink hair and yellow dress that was bought in the shop for skinny bitches, there is a nice young tanned hunky man who wanders around wearing just shorts. Keeping me eye on him I am. Although tis true I have only seen him from the back.

I have eyed a few bushes but none to make me green with Ivy. I don't mean Ivy- I mean envy. I don't yet have bush envy. I don't have a bush here either. So the bush and the shape it will be in will entirely down to meself. I shall keep ye updated. I see over back at number 15 she have got nice tits and a few birds I have yet to identify but tis all exciting. And I shall be back to let ye all know very soon.

Naked and Wrapped in Bubble Wrap

Well the time it seems av come me ol' muckers. Tomorrow morning we pick up the keys to the new place. We are kind of packed (not to my usual standard but I am running at a very much reduced capacity these days and so is Mines Mr Husband). He was showing signs of grumpiness this morning again so I grabbed the bubblewrap and tape gun and picked out a nice big box. He struggled quite a bit and finally he won. But he knew I meant business so he made me a nice cuppa of tea and put some music on for me and told me to get naked. 'Who runs this show?' I asked him. Apparently him as I was naked in seconds. Also wrapped in bubble wrap and put in a box. I have only just got out - tempted by some Carte D'OR Latte icecream. Then mines Mr Husband, detemined to show me how much cheered up he was did some singing to me. I have since got back in me box and taped meself up and I have place some brown paper in me ears. Probably I may be offline after tomorrow for a while because the old tenant at the new house, who is not still there by the way, hasn't paid his cable bill and we can't have cable until we can prove we are now the tenants. So, what I say to ye all is this- if ye don't be hearing from me ye can text me if ye have me number and if ye don't hear from me don't forget me. I Be like Arnie Oldsportsknickers - I WILL BE BACK!!! Be good all of ye and have super duper hugs and loves from me. And if ye are having a bad time at the moment remember I loves thee.xxxx

Naked Ramblings and Down on all fours

I am typing this from inside a cardboard box. Tis only place left in the house. Mines Mr Husband has gone missing- I think he may be lost in the maze of boxes or even packed in one. I keep hearing muffled sounds interspersed with farts. This is why I haven't bothered looking for him. The carbon monoxide thingy that's detects obnoxious fumes keeps going off- so at least I know that for the moment he is still alive. I want to find him later because I have a dead seagull for him that I found last night.

Anyways I want to tell ye  that the osteopath has told me that having arthritis in the spine means that my mobility will get worse- I guess this means that I will soon have trouble walking to my mobility scooter. I asked him if it means I will have to give up my hobby. 'What is your hobby?' he asked 'Photography and bird watching' I tells him. 'Well' he said ye can still do that'. 'Well' I told him, 'I climb naked up trees to do it'. He gulped. 'Well', says he, 'I think maybe ye should re-think it'. This saddened me. 'Ok,' I tells him, 'I will wear me hat and gloves in future'.  After the stripping naked debacle he made me lay face down on the bed. I told him I am more comfortable on all fours but he made me lay flat face down whilst he attempted to un-stick some of my bones. (And yes, it is every bit as painful as it sounds! You can gasp here!!). When he had me flat down and my poor face buried in a pillow he said 'I suggest you take up aqua aerobics'- I tried to respond but he was pushing me into the bed with his knee firmly in my back 'Aqua feckin whatabics?' I says. 'Be still and quiet' he says. To be honest I was rendered speechless. Not often that happens. Then he made me turn over and he tried to lift my legs above my head. Tis a very long time since I done that. I did warn him that it was not good to do that but he didn't listen and that was when I farted and blew out six candles. Anyways I told Mines Mr Husband what he said. I told him 'I think mines sister (the psychotic one with the camel toe and all the kids) does that aqua acrobatics stuff in her bedroom'. He gulped. 'No my darling, that is something else entirely' he says. 'My friends at the airport do thems aerobatics' I said- 'I think I could do that'. Apparently that's not the same either. Anyway mines Mr Husband is going to buy me a swimming costume. No idea what feckin for. Ye won't get me going swimming. I don't like water. Also mines brother  don't like water. Or soap. Or deodorant. Dirty little fecker he is.

Well I would love to sit and chat to thee all day but I got a tip this yer box on its side and get out there be jobs that won't do themselves and I have just spied mines Mr Husbands head over the top of the boxes- oh no wait- it's a boiled egg......

No Knickers and Ropey Cocks

I know ye are all wondering what I am up to. I bet ye all thinking I be quiet. Well I ain't. And I can tell ye it's not just Septic Blaggard who has been having a tough couple of weeks with his Fifa. Nope. I have too. Not with Fifa though. I be trying to pack boxes among other things.( Depsite a devastating diagnosis this week on my health I am getting on with the packing. Can't be stopping to beggar about with pain.) Plus I had two shocks yesterday- Marguarite Pattern died aged 99- that was the first shock- the second was that she was still alive- I thought she was already dead. In fact I never thought about her at all really. Him at number 5 with the ropey cock lit a bonfire in the middle of the day- he got a piece of my mind I can tell ye. Twice. But I still ended up getting me washing in because he don't understand feckin sarcasm. I shall let the tyres down on his mobility scooter and shove his walking stick up his arse I shall. The agent did four viewings without ringing me first. I made him grovel and apologise. Then I made him do it again. He has cancelled tomorrows viewing at 9am because I told him I would be naked and on me wrecking ball. One woman viewing worked hard to convince me her dog was house trained and well behaved. 'Mrs', I said, 'it ain't my house- I don't care if he shits in every feckin corner'. But I did point out the mould in the bedrooms. Like to be fair I do. I don't care if they let it again or not. I also seen me osteopath. Strip to ye underwear please he said. 'Underwear? Underwear?- Feck- I knew I forgot someat!'. I stripped anyway. I asked him if he was stripping too. Then he told me to get dressed again. Can't make up his feckin mind I tell ye. Well I try to catch ye all again before me internet goes off after the weekend.

Blow Job and a Pimms Please

Its been nice out here today so I said to Mines Mr Husband 'it's nice out, so get it out'- the sun bed that is (my oh my what were you thinking? what kind of a girl do you think I am?)- So I found my bikini and after waxing it I was able to slip into it easier. Then I said to mines Mr Husband 'drag the sun bed into the garden area'. He was a bit reluctant at first so I flashed my boobies at him. I put me sun glasses on and sprawled right out and shut me eyes. I was just soaking up a few rays when a sexy husky voice said 'can I do anything for you?'. Straight the way, thinking that mines Mr Husbands voice had dropped an octave or two, 'oooh yes please, I will have a blow job, a slice of cake and a drop of pimms to wash it down'. (I have never had Pimms but it sounds summery and perfect to go with cake). Anyways if you are wondering that is how I got chucked out of Homebase. But I tell ye what, they sun beds are most comfortable. They made a mistake in chucking me out of there- I may have bought one!

Just a Quickie

Sssh don't tell mines Mr Husband I am blogging. I am supposed to be packing boxes. I have already delayed it by treating him to another trip to Dunelm. He makes noises that sound pleasurable in Dunelm. I could be wrong. Also I took him to Tesco where he looked at all the fathers days cards wistfully. So I got him a dead crow on the way home to cheer him up. He was annoyed. I don't know why I bother! I took him to B and Q as well and I tried to talk him into buying some Gorilla Glue just incase I buy a Gorilla off of one of those nice adverts on the telly (it be only a matter of time). He said 'no, pumpkin, we don't be wanting feckin gorillas going all over the house gluing stuff. And you are not to buy one. We might get stuck with him'. So I may sneak back when he isn't looking and get some. I just feel I should have some - just in case. Its a nice day but I am having to wear me woolly hat with the flaps cos I can't find me hairbrush again. Its gonna be warm packing boxes. 

Catch you all laters!

Knickers, Mothers Tits and Baked Beans

Well glad another that's another week behind me. Soon be Christmas. I feckin hate Christmas. Had a shaky start to last week. A bit dark to start with but I got better as the week wore on. It's called kidnap if you take and borrow passing people off the street and tie them up to talk to them and show them photos of your kids. Add me on face book I pleaded then I can show you without you having to sit here. But it was nice to have real people in the house. Anyways they was having none of it. Mines Mr Husband told the policeman-'it's the menopause mate- it makes her lonely and makes her cry a lot'. Cheek of it. 'No, I protested, it's being lonely makes me do it'. I wasn't helping apparently.

I had a good day when MMH told me I was only 51, not 52. Nearly peed me pants with excitement. I was breaking in a new pair that day. TIP OF THE WEEK ; Never have a whole day out whilst breaking in new knickers. You may need to abandon them when they get too tight. Not allowed back in Waitrose now. (I wonder if they have been found yet. I hid them behind them behind the baked beans).

I got me new Lady Magnet. Mines Mr Husband says this will help with the Menopause. I can assure him it don't be needing any feckin help. It seems to be doing a good job all by itself.

I found out if you soap the bottom of your feet in the shower you can get quite a nasty bump on your head. Don't be doing that folks.

Me and mines Mr Husband spent the day photographing mines mothers tits. We are going back next week to see them fledge.

Also excited to find I have 8 new followers on twitter- Mines Mr Husband says 'they are not followers pickle, they are stalkers'. Who cares. At least I have some friends now.

I took mines Mr Husband to Dunelm for a little treat yesterday because he has been very good. I don't think he wanted to go but I thought it he would enjoy it when we got there! He noticed me getting in very close for a look at some things. He said 'you seem to be very attracted mines little pumpkin to shiny things today- don't be thinking of spending too much money'. How the feck can you go in Dunelm without thinking about spending too much money?? We only needed face cloths. Our water is so feckin hard down here I am sure it's from Bridgwater. Anyways I had to point out to him 'I am not attracted to shiny things- it's this feckin lady magnet thingamajig. I am stuck'. Anyways he prised me off most things but the shiny kitchen chair (with the purple pagan seat) I have had to keep. So we did have to spend some money because they wouldn't let us have it for free even though I pointed out it wouldn't leave me alone. Also a set of saucepans, a colander and some nice knives and a candelabra.

Roll on a new week. I am expecting two more delivery guys (whoopee) and I am seeing Gavin the Osteopath - think it will be a good week. I am ordering a man and van as well for the house move. (Mines Mr Husband is having the van and I am having the man). And I have plenty of chocolate and cake!!

Sex in the Car, Sex in the Woods, and Stuffing

This Morning:

On the way to the chemist to get my lady magnet and my prescription:

Me: 'Oh Mines Mr Husband, the doctor has put my age on here. She says I am 51. I love her'.

MMH: 'Well, you are 51'.

Me: 'No I'm not. I am 52'.

MMH: 'Not until September Sweetheart'.

Me: 'I think you will find that I am 53 in September'.

MMH: 'No, do the Maths. You were born in 63 and its 2015, because you haven't had your birthday yet you will 52'.

Me: 'Are you sure?'

MMH 'Yes Darling, I am good with Maths'.

Me: 'Wow, I am so excited I could pee me pants. I have gained a whole year'.

MMH 'No, you have just lost one'.

(I think this depends on how one looks at this) however I am so excited and it put me in a good mood.

Me: 'Well that has put me in a good mood and I am super happy. Do you want to have sex now I am in a good mood'.

MMH 'No not really Sweetheart because I am driving'.

Well I shan't offer again - he had his chance. No good for him to say I didn't offer.........

(If you want to know what a lady magnet is- it's not the same as a fanny magnet- it's a little helper for ladies of a certain age with mood swings and hot flushes- although MMH went into the chemist and asked for it (quite boldly) and the woman ran round in a flap and had to call the manageress to help her look for a 'lady maker' for the gentleman in the black sweater. Nearly peed me pants twice today and it's only lunch time!)

This Afternoon:

This afternoon we went for a nature walk and stuff. Only there wasn't as much stuffing as I hoped. We took some photos of the terrapins and the fish and the trees and I was lucky enough to find a fungi in the woods. I didn't tell mines Mr husband because he had found a random loony who made friends with him and I wandered off to the woods alone. Then mines Mr husband came and found me in the woods. We found a den - now it could have been a badgers home or a fox or even a plain rabbit- we don't go in for them fancy rabbits down yer in Devon we don't. Just plain. And we only do two types of rabbit stew- stew with rabbit and stew without. Anyways I was curious to get a picture of the inhabitant of that den but even though I got down on my hands and knees and gently chided he didn't comes out. I said to Mines Mr Husband 'find some poo and taste it'. He looked horrified. 'Don't be disgusting little fruitcake', he replied. 'I don't intend to be', I said, 'that's why I am asking you to find it and taste it'. 'What will that achieve exactly?' he asks. I told him 'We will soon be able to find out what kind of animal lives there by this experiment if only we can find some poo. It works I seen it on spring watch'. 'Spring watch?' he repeated. 'Well', I said, 'Something like that, I think it may have had Tom Hanks or someone in it'. 'So not a tried and tested method. I don't think I will bother if you don't mind'. He is feckin useless on this nature trail stuff and so unwilling. I am sure other husbands are willing to taste poo in the woods to determine the bum it has come from. Then we went deeper into the woods and we found a little waterfall and a babbling brook. It was lovely. We couldn't go in it because we never had us wellies. And to be fair Mines Mr Husband still only has one. I am still looking for another. I told him I was really cheered up and really happy. I offered him sex again but he said he would have to decline -I shan't offer again I shan't. Then we found the place where the bears had their picks nicked. Feckin furious they was. They are better behaved nowadays I have noticed. You know usually they shit behind the trees? But now they don't. They do it in little black bags and leave it front of the trees for the park warden when he comes. Nice Idea I thought. Polite. On the way out of the woods we heard crunching. It was a only a feckin bear eating a bag of crisps. He was too busy too notice us. We sneaked away sharpish. I photographed him but it hasn't come out. Then we returned to the pond and watched the moorhens and the gooses. Then Mines Mr Husband suddenly remembered we had duck food in the car. Shall we try the duck food he asks? 'No thanks', I said. 'I am not hungry at the moment and I was rather hoping for fish and chips this evening'. So we left it in the car. Then after I asked a woman which part of the sign didn't she understand about keeping dogs on feckin leads and kids as well. Last time I try to point out the error of her ways. I don't think my nose will be straight for some time. Then we went to get some fish and chips and we went to the fair. Well we sat in the car park next to the far. Mines Mr Husband didn't want to ride on anything because he was worried about losing his false teeth. We will go back tomorrow if its still there. I am going to use the serious glue on his teeth. And shall report back forwith!

Sex games and Bubbles

Oh dear. Mines Mr Husband has just found the bubble wrapped delivery man under the stairs. He rolled away after i wrapped him and popped him in various locations (on his body of course i mean on his body- did you really need to wonder?) and then he went popping and rolling all around the room. To be honest I thought he had rolled under the sofa and I would have to wait until mines Mr Husband came home in the morning to lift the sofa. Then I had a sleep and completely forgot. Mines Mr Husband has had to free him and bribe him with moneys and beers and told him I am a little loony and I keep escaping. He has promised to take me back to the loony bin tomorrow. Still hopefully the policemens won't come again. I daren't go down that 'not allowed to bubble wrap and parcel tape people' thing again this week. I can't help it- I keep forgetting stuff.

I am still here! Wet Knickers, Bubble wrap and Tape

The little girl in the white cotton frock has survived another night and another day to tell another tale. It's not easy being her. Tonight though she is someone else. Someone a bit brighter. So this is what the last few days adventures have been:

Saturday Night -

7.15 pm -The excitement when a car stops in the lay by and you think you got visitors. Then they go to pull off. I am getting really good now at stopping cars from pulling away. So Yay- I have visitors. When I remove the tape from their mouths I will ask them their names.

7.30pm -As luck would have it a break down truck pulled up in lay by too. He didn't know all the uses for a tow rope. They all seem to be having fun trying to get free and I am showing them baby pics of the kids. Such fun. Keep bail money on stand by. Last time it didn't end so well.

10pm (at the police station) -Oh so it's called kidnap is it. Well there you go. That's put the mockers on that then. Didn't like them anyway. Needs bail money.

Sunday morning at 3am: (back home) The tv remote control has spiralled out of control. Had to pull the plug out of the TV. What I say is thank feck for Solo beats and Elvis Presley. Make the most of loud singing before we move to the new house. It won't be as soundproof as this one. Singing won't be the only thing we will have to be quiet with either. Mines mister will have to fart bit quieter an all.

Sunday morning at 4am: I don't know what the man from down the road wanted. Something about making a noise. I told him straight - it's 4 in the morning- haven't you got better things to do than pester women who trying to sing along to Elvis. You oughta be sleeping not banging on my door making a noise. Fair to say he went off with a flea in his ear.

Tuesday Morning:

When you are poorly sometimes you have to stay in bed. You wear your pyjamas or nothing at all if this is your preference. When you are poorly sometimes you have to go to the doctors. I do not see what is wrong with wearing your pyjamas or nothing at all if that is your preference. I just can't see what the fuss was about. I had me socks on I did.

Tuesday Evening:

Its all excitement here. 1000mm of bubble wrap arrived. Poor delivery man thought I was a loony. Mines Mr Husband has locked the front door- he has gone to work. This has a two fold purpose - keeps me from escaping (it is ok mines friends- I have chocolate) and stops me from kidnapping people to talk to. However, it buggers up deliveries muchly. But then Yodel do say they will deliver after seven but I have never know them to before- or in the day even! I called through the letter box for him to leave it on the doorstep. He wouldn't. Then I ran though the house and out in the garden and waved to his mate from the gate. Then I ran back in the house and back to the front to wave to the man at the door. Then I ran up the stairs and along the landing to the bedroom to search for a door key. Back down the stairs and through the living room to the front door. I opened the door and told him I was sooo sorry, waved to his mate in the van and then thought ooooh the man that was delivering the bubble wrap was enough to bring the wet knicker brigade out in full force. So as I grabbed the luscious bubble wrap and I grabbed the delivery man and waved his friend off. The delivery man is now parcel taped to the chair behind the bubble wrap whilst I get me breath back and take some pain killers - then we are going to have some fun with the bubble wrap. I Have locked the door and hidden the key. It is going to be a fun night.x

Understanding me Tonight- Saying goodbye to the little Girl

It could be argued that the little dot of a girl in the white cotton frock playing in the grass in the sunshine in the garden has so many people who truly care and therefore she has no need to be suicidal or even miserable. Even if her children don't care to do as much as answer a text. She knows her parents would be heartbroken for sure but they aren't going to be around for ever more are they? She also has 197 friends on face book- although 5 of them are her little sister (the one with the issues). Most of them she has only met once or less (that's other face book friends not her little sisters (the one with the issues) and lets face it no-one notices if she doesn't appear on face book do they? Oh and then there are two or three alter egos. They won't miss her! So there you go- multi personalities as well. The happy 'she' wants to stay alive and enjoy sunny days and nature. She loves nature. And sunny days. She loves laughing and singing and even used to enjoy a good ol' dance around the living room. In the days before the pain. She is feeling torn most days between living and dying.

She has three brothers and two sisters. They really don't care if she lives or dies. She never hears from them. Or receives any communication from them unless there is an emergency with her parents. They have all been spiteful and unkind in varying degrees. They have labelled her demonic because she takes a different view and a different path to the one they were brought up to tread. Not than any of them tread it either and there's not one who leads an upright moral life. Not One. And in her opinion they are all more fecked up and demonic than she will ever be. She doesn't drink, take drugs or smoke dubious substances. Six painkillers a week cannot be counted. She still leads the better life. She has never harmed any of them or been unkind to them. She has been loyal and protective of them all. Her first marriage went to the wall in part because of the amount of time she spent protecting and helping her family. She is shunned by most and some have been so hurtful and spiteful and she doesn't understand. Maybe they don't like her straight talking when she tells them to pull themselves together now they are nearing their 50th years. There is not any need for them all to still be making a hash of their lives and blaming everyone but themselves.

Then there is her husband. He is a good man. She loves him. He loves her. They laugh together. They have even cried together many times. But she knows from previous experience that he is a practical man. He won't let the grass grow under his feet without her. He will get over it and get on with it. If he stayed home from work every time she had a suicidal urge he would never go to work. He once said he was only worried about her taking her own life in case that everyone would blame him. He won't stop her from her doing it. He understands. She would like him to know that there will be sunny days ahead for him without her and that she will watch him from on high. She doesn't want him to take the blame. In truth everyone in her life has to consider upon her death what part they played and when they have thought hard 'Did I do enough? and Could I have done more?' instead of saying 'she was selfish, she didn't care about us'- they can take the appropriate amount of blame and learn to live with it or not. There is a pretty high chance they won't even do that.

She doesn't want her neices to feel bad because she loves them and she knows the ones that are allowed to be part of her life love her, but she also thinks and hopes they will understand her pain......

Tonight she sits here with her wedding photo, photos of her children and grandchildren, 120 sleeping tablets and a bottle of whiskey..................Forgive me please.............Remember me on sunny days................

Understanding me Today, Dark Places, Death and Sunshine.

Understanding me Today

I bet you don't if you aren't inclined. But if you are a fellow sufferer you will. Today started off good, as good goes. Then I started doing my ironing and that's when the mood descended. I don't usually feel suicidal when I do the ironing. I usually combine it with listening to some music. But Mister was in bed so I didn't want to make a noise. I can't just listen to music even with headphones on - I have to sing. And i am no soprano. I thought about the three texts I sent to each of my children last night and I thought about the fact that not one of them replied- not one. Not a sausage. Then the mist descended and the tears flowed and flowed and I became consumed with thoughts of death and rejection yet again. All three of them going about their happy little lives- not a thought for me. Too busy to even send one text. I sit here day after day after day. I can't deal with it anymore. I have cried buckets and buckets today and I don't feel better. Now I am sat in the garden writing through the tears what I intend to be my last blog. I am thinking about the 120 sleeping tablets and bottle of whiskey I have tucked away ready to deal with the time. I read a story this week of how two brothers killed themselves by inhaling helium but I would probably just die of laughing from a squeaking voice. Although I don't know if it is better to die happy than sad. And I don't know where to get that much helium at short notice- or even long notice. I would put me head in the oven except its an electric fan oven and all that would happen is that I would end up with a frizzy hair do and singed eyebrows. And no-one wants to die looking like that.

I have spent the last hour sat in the sun, soaking up some vitamin D. I have watched insects and spiders and flies busying about their business and little birds gathering straw for their nests in my eaves. A pigeon sat on my roof waiting for the birds to feed from the feeder because he knows they will leave enough bits of seed in a minute for him to feed from the ground. I have watched the great tit weave in and out of the pear trees opposite so that he can escape the evil clutches of the blackbird. All of them oblivious to my pain. Just like 30years again when I was nesting and raising my young I was oblivious to the pains in the outside world. The sun on my back transported me back to happier days. Memories of a little dot of a girl in a beautiful little white cotton frock and a bow in her hair playing in the grass in her garden whilst her mother chased around trying to capture her photograph. Then sunny days running around in her paternal grandparents garden soaking up the scent of her grandmothers rose garden and catching the odd waft of the apple pie baking in the oven, and listening to the pigeons cooing next door from their loft. She loved them days so much. Sitting on the grass in the sun in a school field with friends making daisy chains. A bit bigger a girl running round on the common with her parents and siblings whilst flying a kite and a teenager running round with her brother and his friends playing football. Or laying in a bikini in the hottest summer of  '76 whilst hoping to catch the eye of friendly lad or two or three even. Then there she was again- on her mothers lawn again, only this time in a wedding dress and her mother was still running round trying to capture photographs.  Then my mind moved on to summer days with this little girl all grown up with her own little boys and little girl. A little boy in a little knitted white top and blue shorts riding on his trike. Pedalling as fast as his little legs could go, shouting 'look at me, I am doing a wheelie mum', as he veered to one side. She could barely keep up with him and by the time he was knocking on his grandmothers door she was exhausted. She would wait for the familiar voice of his grandmother to say 'now who is that knocking at my door I wonder' and his little voice would reply ' its only me, the little boy who lives down the lane'. She would call back 'and what do you want?' to which he would answer 'a boiled egg and some soldiers please'. The door would open, the words had worked their magic. After his boiled egg and soldiers were all consumed and Postman Pat had been watched and sung along too they would all go into the garden for some sunshine and he would run around and play in the grass and his mum and his grandmother would chase around trying to capture his photograph. The memories go on and on and on. Days at the beach, days in the countryside, days in the gardens of grandparents. Sunny days. Bright and beautiful sunny days filled with laughter and fun. Those days are gone. Sure that little girl is now a grandmother. But she isn't allowed to have fun with her children and her grandchildren anymore. She is denied sunny days in the garden with them or at the beach. She is tired and in physical pain and emotional turmoil. She has a good husband who loves and cares for her and they have nice days out. But she knows she is missing out on the joy and the laughter of having a family. What is the point in laying on a hospital table being cut in half and dying in the process to give birth? What is the point in being a good mother and protector? What is the point in loving them with every fibre of your being? What is the point in bringing them up to be loving and loyal? What is the point in anything when you have to live a long painful life without them in it? She will tell you that she can see no point. Today she wants the pain to stop. And she is  the only one who can stop the pain. Tonight she will send them all a text. Not an ordinary - 'this mamma sending love text' - but a scheduled text that will arrive at 7am in the morning when her husband comes home to find her lifeless soul. They will all know together. Her text will be a final farewell and the last of her love. And the sun shan't shine for her ever again.

Willy, Maids Outfits and Kinky Mother In Laws

Sooo all is not quite well in the household of Prince William and the Duchess of Cambridge then. I was reading Woman magazine in the supermarket yesterday so it must be true. I learned this nifty little trick whilst working at the Toy Cupboard ( Jeez I miss that little job and me mates)- read before ye buy, ye save a feckin fortune. Anyways I like to read the problem pages because since I have took over from Marjorie Proops I have been quite in demand. Then I comes across this (that's in the finds sense- Woman is not that kind of a magazine).

Dear Auntie Beth

I have not long been married to my beautiful wife Kate and our 22 month old son George and new baby daughter whatsername, and we live in huge house that has ten bedrooms. It used to belong to my Auntie Maggie. We used to have many loyal staff but they have started leaving. It is all because my mother in law is at ours all the time. She sits between us on the settee and we aren't even able to hold hands. I don't mean with her, I mean with each other. She interferes constantly and has even started staying the night and bringing us breakfast in bed. She bosses the staff about and they are leaving us in droves. We are at our wits end and we don't want to upset her or stop her from seeing her grand children but what are we to do? Even my poor wife is getting fed up because it is causing rows between us.

Yours sincerely

Prince William of the United Kingdom.

Dear Willy,

Oh my, oh my. It's not just the tea that is a brewing in your house then? A feckin dirty great storm by the seems of it. A family feud. A funeral even!! I can tell ye Willy that from years of experience with a mother in law pretty much the same (God rest her soul), I share your pain mate, I share your pain. And we only had the one settee. And that was an old two seater. Can ye not find her a settee of her own in that big house? And put it in the garden shed for her. (Your mother in law, not mine. Mine don't need one, God rest her soul). We also had the breakfast in bed problem. Well I tell ye this, after fifteen years of early mornings they get fed up with getting up and bringing ye the weetabix. Ye may have to put ye foot down with a firm hand me ol' mucker even if it goes against thee sweet nature. Tell her straight like I did my mother in law -God Rest her soul- I told her straight I did I was offering her son a variety at breakfast time and it didn't always come out of a cereal packet. I let him try different things and it would have just been too kinky to include the mother in law. Can ye not offer her a permanent job? If she wants a servants lowly, poorly paid position get her a maids outfit (not like mine from Anne Summers)- a proper one with starched knickers and bonnet. Get her down and dirty in that scullery fourteen hours a day and let her feed off the scraps that ye old dog don't want no-more. She will soon get fed up with that. If she don't you can do what I did with my mother in law- God rest her soul- just tell her to feck right off. (Repeat as necessary- ye may have to do this several time over many years). Be prepared for your wife to feel awkward and she maybe a little terse over the situation. But it will be worth it in the end. If ye still having trouble when ye have tried this then my bestest bit of advice would to be have a word with Ye Old Duke and he will arrange something!

 P.S. By the way this wouldn't be a problem had you married MY Kate like I suggested. She is of Royal descent you know. (I done the family tree). And I know Harry is still available but I would have to demand a paternity test first. Not of Kate, I know she is mine. But she is a good girl and you wouldn't be having mother in law problems now because I knows me place!

New Knickers, Twerking and Flying Fish

Well yesterday when I woke up I was in a dark place. Feckin Mines Mister Husband locked me in the cupboard again! Anyways he took me to tesco to cheer me up. I am a simples girl and I don't want a lot. He bought me some new knickers. I don't know why- I don't bother with knickers much. But still nice to have in the drawer. I tried them on in the shop. Got told off by the manager- again. Apparently they have changing rooms for trying on clothes. I attracted quite a crowd especially the ones I managed to get on sideways and then ended up head first in the reduced basket because I lost mines balance. Mines Mister Husband bought himself some new knickers too. I like his- they have a handy little pocket thing at the front. I could do with some like that- Somewhere to keep me chocolate. Anyways I was doing well - I managed to get most of the way round without stripping (apart from the knicker thing), singing, doing any twerking, going on me wrecking ball or swapping any babies in any trolleys. Then we got to the dead fish aisle. That is when it all kicked off and I lost the plot. 'Do ye want dead fishes mines mister husband?' I asked. He said 'Oh no, not more dead animals. T'was only yesterday ye gave me three dead rabbits and a fox'. I thought so ungrateful he is. 'These ones are covered in nice breadcrumbs and batter though', I told him. Finally he agreed he would like some dead fish as long as they were covered in batter and he could have them with chips. (Note to self: next jelly fish I find on the beach-batter first- he will readily accept- seems its un-battered fishes he don't like. Also do this with a dead animals from now on!) Anyhows, ye know I am a bit slower nowadays. My head is slow and I don't balance so good and things do whizz round a bit sharpish. I was stood looking at the array of dead fishes on offer and trying to work out if I even knew what some of them were. I was a bit dizzy but I held me nerve. Then suddenly this stupid cow of woman pushed in front of me, yanked open the freezer door and nearly knocked me clean off me feets. Now not all of us are steady on our feets and some of us can't function like the others. Some of us also have aspergers and we don't like peoples un-invited in our space. And she was in my space un-invited. She grabbed some dead fishes and slammed the door so hard it sent me in a spin. Then she scanned it herself (cos you can do that up our Tesco's. Bleep, bleep, bleep. Gets on ya feckin tits.) I am not usually a violent person, unless some one tries un-invited to tweak my nipples or enter my space. Ya know it is rude to tweak a girls nipples or enter her space un-invited), but I brought both my fists up to re-arrange her face. Some geezer helped up her from the position she was sprawled in across aisles 11 to 15. Did you know fish can fly- even dead and battered? yep they can. They do look funny wrapped in raspberry ripple though- particularly still in the tub. And I am not saying whether or not I had anything to do with her being stopped by security for all the things she had in her trolley that she never scanned! Don't mess with the Zohan. Or with the Beth. So on a Tesco Ban again! Oh and I need bail money please. Anyway Mines Mister Husband was right. Going to Tesco always cheers me up!

Cleavage, Nude Husbands and Squids

Now my mate Dave wants me to send him £22 to help with this feckin party he keeps goin' on about. Only this time he said I can have one of his tee shirts with the erection campaign on. I said to him 'now lets get this straight me ol' bean' (cos I call him that- we are on ol' bean terms we are), 'look yer me ol' bean' I says- 'for 22 squids I can have three nice tee-shirts from Amazon with a logo and colour of my choice- or 15 tee shirts from Primark- so your 22 squids ain't such a good offer'. Anyway then he gets his wife Sam Cam on the case. She thanks me for all my good work during the erection campaign. 'Don't thank me', I says - 'I didn't do nuffin'. Well I didn't. Anyways she thinks the tee shirt is good value but I don't see her at the reduced section in Lidl hoping to get some half price mince. I told her straight for 22 squids I can have a homeless man for christmas so I can. In fact the last one I got was 26squids (you will all recall) and he has stayed here ever since. Well he calls himself mines Mr Husband- poor old soul he is. But every few days I makes him have a shower and I gives him a bit of dinner and he is quite good company most of the time. So then Iain Ducan thingymajig wades in and I tells him to eff off. I don't want a feckin tee shirt. I don't wear tee shirts unless they enhance my ample bosom. End of. The old homeless man who calls himself mines Mr Husband points out that the ample bosom does support the erection campaign and I should consider it. GO AWAY mens- I don't want to pay all those squids for a feckin tee shirt. Ye Gods.

We have finally found the new house- well we found a few weeks ago but we have been himming and hamming and humming. But we have taken the plunge and we will be moving in on the 15th, 16th, 17th, 18th, 19th, 20th, 21st, 22nd, 23rd and 24th of June. I said to the old homeless man (MMH) that at least my mate Dave won't keep sending me requests for squids for his left over tee shirts. He said- 'well, he will pickle because he sends you emails doesn't he'. Still I think it will fool him for a bit. Tiny bit sad cos I saw Hot Hunky Marine Husband next door with no clothes today in the garden (he was without clothes- not me- what you take me for?- I am shy I am). I may just have to keep coming back for a peep through the fence. Summer has hit Whimple.

 I'v had to draw the curtains early tonight. I have ran out of bird seed and the birds keep sitting on the window sill giving me menacing looks. And MMH has no trousers on- I fear he is in grave danger.............tis the Blackbirds mainly!

Stroking Bushes, Cleavage Secrets, Holding his Nuts

Always looking for alternative health solutions I recently discovered that using coconut oil to clean your teeth is good for you. I have started having a bounty bar for breakfast followed by a glass of malibu. Don't know why I did think of this before.

I love the fact that Saga magazines (for over fifties) have a dating page- it is littered with people in their 70's and 80's trying to find that special one. I love the fact they all end with ring me now. I would like to add to that- ring me now, hurry up- limited offer, I may be here today but gone tomorrow!

A little tip for you ladies- men put your fingers in your ears- buy a size bigger than normal bra- preferably one to lift that cleavage up. Then you can use the extra room to store naughty snacks. Not with chocolate though because you enter a whole different kind of naughtiness.

A big farming store near us stock Super Lube in 5litre tubs- for super lubing days I guess. Most impressive. Find it next to the rubber gloves.

A new study shows that men are best to catch at 8.15pm for serious conversation. Pointed this out to MMH- he looked at the clock and said 'well I am afraid it is 9.20pm now so too late I am afraid. When is the best time to have a serious conversation with a woman, do you know?'. As it happens I do. 'yes I tell him, it is apparently at 8.20am - but don't ye feckin dare'. Anyways the best time to have a serious talk with a man is when you have his nuts in your hand and the stapler in the other! Full attention guaranteed!!

Mines Mr Husband took me to look at a new house today. We are going to have a proper look at in it the week. Inside and everything. He assured it me it was number 16 with the brown door and the red garage. We sat admiring it for sometime and decided we would like to at least rent the outside. I would like to apologise to the woman in the house at number 16 for my need to get out and stroke her very dashing bush. I so have bush envy this week. I would further like to apologise for mines Mr Husband getting out and also stroking her rather dashing bush. I became very excited at thought that in a few weeks this bush could be all mine and me and mines Mr Husband could stroke it until our hearts content. I thought about that lovely bush all the way home. Only to find out that the house we should have been looking at was number 61, with a green front door and a white garage and a much less appealing, if not somewhat unruly bush. Mines Mr Husband is clearly feckin dyslexic and colour blind. If ever a girl got disappointed about a bush tis I. What's the betting if we move there we will both be sneaking round to number 16 regularly just for a stroke or a glimpse of her bush.

Marriage and Children-Kahlil Gibran

On Marriage
 Kahlil Gibran

You were born together, and together you shall be forevermore.
You shall be together when the white wings of death scatter your days.
Ay, you shall be together even in the silent memory of God.
But let there be spaces in your togetherness,
And let the winds of the heavens dance between you.

Love one another, but make not a bond of love:
Let it rather be a moving sea between the shores of your souls.
Fill each other's cup but drink not from one cup.
Give one another of your bread but eat not from the same loaf
Sing and dance together and be joyous, but let each one of you be alone,
Even as the strings of a lute are alone though they quiver with the same music.

Give your hearts, but not into each other's keeping.
For only the hand of Life can contain your hearts.
And stand together yet not too near together:
For the pillars of the temple stand apart,
And the oak tree and the cypress grow not in each other's shadow.

On Children

Your children are not your children.  

They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you, yet they belong not to you.

You may give them your love but not your thoughts.
For they have their own thoughts.
You may house their bodies but not their souls,
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow, which you cannot visit, not   even in your dream

You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make them like you.
For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.

You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth.
The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite, and He bends you with His might that His arrows may go swift and far.  

Let your bending in the archer's hand be for gladness;
For even as he loves the arrow that flies, so He loves also the bow that is stable.