Boobies, Buckets and Bloomers

In the week my cousin Kerry told me you can go into a shop and get your boobies measured. I thought I would give this idea a whirl. Like to live life on the edge so I do. Anyways first up I tried Tesco. So Now I am on my final warning from there. Apparently going up to any member of staff in there and booby jiggling whilst saying 'measure these for me mate' is deemed anti-social behaviour. Then I tried Spec savers. They used to measure things with ruler thingys. Now its all done with an I-pad thingy. Well they take photographs. The man was quite obliging but personally I think he was a pre-vert and he said I need new glasses. Big ones. Move over Deirdre Barlow. Then I went in the shoe shop. They also have a measuring device but it stays on the floor. I have never been so uncomfortable as I was getting my boobies in that contraption. Not even when I had my mammuff gram with 'Hi, I am Alison, I am your receptionist/radiographer'. Anyway they said I had one size 9 and one 7.5. Oh and I think they thought I wanted to buy new boots. Nut jobs in there I tell ye. Talking of Boots- they don't do measuring but they did give me some extra large corn rings for mines nipples (thank you to Andrea for giving me that top tip for Beth's top nipple tips folder- seems its a Boots favourite). B&Q offered me a couple of large orange buckets. The Toy Cupboard offered me a couple of large swimming rings. Finally I stopped off at Greggs (any excuse)- and they said I would need considerably large buns which they had sold out off but offered me a couple of round cottage loafs and a couple of bloomers. Also did you know if you want to get your boobies measured you don't need to go naked. Just a top tip for ye all there- don't want ye to get caught out like what I did.

Also this week we had an adventure or two. After our last adventure using the sat nav thingy Mines Mr Husband and she fell out- BIG TIME! She wanted him to turn left. He didn't like the look of the road so he refused. She re-calculated and found him another road and he didn't much like the look of that either. In the end they argued so much so that I intervened (although I don't usually like getting in the middle of other peoples arguments) and I switched her off and put her in a box. That's where she stayed until this week. Mr Husband decided to give her another chance but she was fecking sulking and didn't want to talk - she only told him when to turn after he turned. He was livid. Then the arguing started. He called her a silly cow. She called him a dick head. I called her a silly cow. She was shocked- cos like I said I don't usually interfere. Anyway its official. They are divorcing. She is divorcing him on the grounds of unreasonable behaviour and he is divorcing her on grounds of her constant nagging and sulking. I just hope he gets to keep the jag- I like the jag!!

Finally this week on one of the magazine programs this week they asked if you would bury a loved one in the garden. I owned up. Apparently though they have to be deaded. I tried to bury mines Mr Husband once or twice, (or it may have been three times, I forget) in the garden. He was furious. He calls it attempted murder. I calls it forward planning. He can be so fecking picky at times. On a totally different note I need some help to build a patio.