Twerking, Surviving and Muffin Buffin

Apparently tis the end of 2017 today. Nobody tells me anyfin. Fank gawd for the TV guide is all I can say. Tis the time of year when everyone becomes a mirror and goes all reflective and a maudling. Mostly they focus on what they have lost and the bad stuff. Tis true one dear friend of mine had lost a lot this year and to you Jo I send buckets and buckets of love. Some people have gone through terrible things (I am not on about the drama queens and the constant whiners). Here at least this year we are counting our blessings - we had some near misses! For me the positives are this: I survived no less than 10 apocalypses. I made a few of you smile. I saw bears in the wood. Well I saw where they had shitted. Same thing really. I almost seen a whale. I was at the spot where many others had seen it anyways. Same thing. I visited Sunny Wales- twice. It rained. I had a fabulous new grandson Travis. He is welsh. I spent beloved time, although no where near as much as I would have liked, with my beautiful kids and grand children. I had the privilege of being a birfing buddy to my niece and being there when little William made his grand, if traumatic entrance into this world. And I was excited when little Amelia arrived in the world. She is Welsh. We are doing well with the Welsh this year. Mr husband pissed on me chips a few times but in the main he has convinced me he is simply the best husband a girl could wish for. He even bought me a flanger for xmas. If anyone wants to see my flanger in action you will have to visit it. Its not the sort of thing I can put on yer! In 2018 I will walk through the crap with me held high and look for the positive stuff. Best of all I am getting rid of my fibromyalgia. Me, Bob and Elvis will adventure far and wide. And I thank each and everyone one of you for being at my side. Except Sid. Sid has been a knob.

This is what I have learned this year:

You can only comfortably get three and a half parcel men in the cupboard under the stairs.

It is against the law to kidnap parcel men and tie them up and keep them under the stairs. Who Knew?

A whole dead badger is better than a half one.

A girl can never have too many hoovers or maltesers.

A menopausal girl can almost fit long ways in the freezer at Tesco.

A menopausal girl should always pick the dessert freezer to throw herself  into over the frozen veg.

Fortune favours the brave- yes ladies you can load the dishwasher by yourself (providing your husband is asleep or out).

Not all policeman wear underwear. (Don't ask how I know- take it from me- they don't).

This moving house crap has to stop. For me. Not you. Don't let me stop you. But don't ask me to help either. Unless you want lists of things drawing up. I can do that.

Get a feather in your knickers- you can laugh all day without one joke being told.

(Don't ask how I know!)

There are still men who patronise women out there. Kick these in the nuts with your hobnail boots girls. And kick em real hard!

Twerking naked is not allowed in the library.

If yer husband tells ye he has someat hard and long for ye to have in the bedroom don't be surprised if its a just a curtain pole!

Topless is the way to go with me new car. Except for when it rains. This is England. Two days a year we go topless. Two feckin days.

Don't watch something funny or read my status's if ye are chewing on nuts- ye could choke don't ye know. Tis true. Happened to me cousin so it did.

Twerking is not allowed in the bank - neither is whipping me nae nae.

Only candle sticks can be buffed in church. No muffin buffin.

The oven needs to be turned on if ye are baking cakes. Usually. Who knew. Plus once you have done so you are supposed to time it. And check it. Not wait til the kitchen is filled with smoke and the smoke alarm is going off.

Not all burglars want to get into bed and warm you up before they leave. Ditto Postmen and Delivery men.

Cats don't actually fly. Who knew that either?

There appears to be no laws in the Netherlands about twerking or being naked in a freezer in Tesco. Think we could make it there!

And finally everyone should be able to wear their cardigan upside down if they so desire without fear of being judged!

Revolutions, Polished Knobs and Karchared Cracks

Glad to say Christmas is behind us now- only another 51 weeks until the next one- unless we end up nuked by then by the loonies who now in charge of the world. So what ye be up to Beth I hear I ask. Well this is it- hang on to yer hats and get yerself a coffee- or a Baileys if ye haves any left:

SUNDAY: First I done me new years Revolutions:

Find New Supermarkets to try the Naked Wrecking Ball Routine. Practice twerking and whipping Nae Nae.

Find Shops with managers who are more tolerant to the above.

Keep up the Sing along with Beth and Elvis. Throw in a bit of 
Robbie for good measure. Get more Elvis and Robbie CDS. Lawfully.

Get new nail scissors to do fringe.

Practice fringe cutting more so it don't look like the toddler next door has been let loose with the hedge trimmer on it. 
Practice on passers by if necessary.

Write more books.

Find fresher dead animals for Mr Husband (stop him whinging so much)

Buy more orgasm socks- have more orgasms (but not in Tesco as don't want to be arrested)

Get in shape. Cake shape is good. Keep scales hidden- they are dangerous to your mental health and they tell lies.

Go to the gym more often- watch the hunks working out. 
Remember to take money for chocolate.

This year don't get into trouble for being in relationships with hunky men. Well, I mean, don't get caught stalking.

Try harder not to fart when the osteopath bends ye in half. Clench them buttocks Beth.

Be nicer to the neighbours, except the skinny bitch next door. It is perfectly acceptable to ram her front door sideways up her rectum if she continues to slam it. No law against it.

Remember a daily glass of Baileys is good for you. Packed with calcium and calcium is good for your bones.

Trim bush more regularly. No good having bush envy all the year when you see the neighbours have perfectly neatly trimmed bushes if ye don't make an effort with ye own.

Buy new over shoulder bolster holders to stop nipples sparking on pavement.
END OF REVOLUTIONS.

MONDAY:Tis nice to see so many people starting the year positive. I am no exception. First positive thing to put in me positive jar- I survived another apocalypse. Yay- go me!!

Today, with it being the first day of a new year and all such stuff, I am going to polish up all me knobs. One likes to start the new year with newly polished, shiny knobs. Yen I am going to suss out this living in Japan business- well I am off to get some seaweed. Same thing.

Note to self: Don't get the instructions 'Wrap your tinsel round me baubles mixed up with wrap your tonsils round me ball balls.'

TUESDAY: Feeling Amused and Pleased: I am simply in love with my new Karcher washer. It gets mould out of cracks and crusty bits off knobs. I waited until Mines Mr Husband was bent over and on went the Karcher.................... One clean- if a little surprised husband. All clean and ready for new application of Gorilla Glue. When he gets back from the hospital. Apparently you aren't supposed to do colonic irrigation at home. Well who knew?
Mmmm What to Karcher today?

WEDNESDAY: Steam cleaned in between Mines Mr Husbands toes with the Karcher yesterday. He said he doesn't know what to do with himself. He is so Karchered he can't sit down and he can't stand up. Currently crawling round on his knees. Shame really cos I was just about to do his belly button with it.

 THURSDAY: When I visit mines Muvver and Mines Favver tis very difficult to get a signal on my mobile doodah. Tis true signal is crap out in the sticks in thems house. Tis a well known fact. Well tis mostly well known to them. Finally after many years I have cracked it. I stand naked and on me head in the far corner with one leg out the window and t'other up the chimney and wiggle all me all toes. 'Do ye get a better signal then Beth I hear ye ask?'  Well to be honest with ye no it don't. But I can't send texts or make phone calls when I upside down and freezing me arse off.

FRIDAY: I like GP's behind closed doors. Although I think ours is more interesting. Well when I go it is. I gee them along and have a sing song. Last night though, whilst toasting with a glass of Bailey's to the young man who got dry from alcohol and turned his life around and I had tears in my eyes for the old dear who was told she could not have a slice of cake a day. No one needs to be told to cut the cake out or even cut the cake! No one needs this kind of negativity. Also Mines Mr Husband has hidden the Karcher after I steamed cleaned his bald patch. Don't know what I will do today. I just bought four new nozzles for it.

SATURDAY: Well, yesterday afternoon, I was just sitting there minding me own business- like you do and Mines Mr Husband suggested that I get one of my five a day. I said I was sure I didn't know what he was on about. He said 'they begin with ''F''  so they do'. Well that didn't take me long to work out- I was up over the stairs and stripped off naked and on the bed before you could say 'Jumping Jack Sprat'. 'I will be waiting up here for one of my five' I shouted. To be honest I thought five fecks a day were a bit ambitious at our times of life. A few minutes later I hear him coming up over the stairs,  and fully clothed too- and then he left a bowl of fruit salad by the bed for me and went back to his computer. What's all that about then??

AND FINALLY.......BETHS FIRST TOP TIT OF THE NEW YEAR- Don't put up Christmas trees and trimmings- then ye don't have the hard work of takings them down again. You're welcome.

Orgies, Twerking and a touch of the Piftics

 WEDNESDAY: Well yesterday I was able to convince Mines Mr Husband that he would enjoy a trip to Dunelm to get Bath Mats. First he resisted saying that Fathers Day was truly long gone, as was his birthday, and also no need to buy bath mats for holiday- blah blah blah- heard all the reasons not to go. Also he had a touch of the piftics yesterday so I had to do my best kitty eyes and my best sexy, sultry pout. Eventually he agreed to take me in Dunelm (he will take me feckin anywhere that man- he has no shame). Soon as I got there I spied the very inviting bed. I started stripping. 'T'is hot in yer' I complained. Do ye know what Mines Mr Husband said? No? Well I tell ye what he said. He said 'If you take one thing off we are going home'. That's what he said. Well there I am going round a boiling hot shop and not allowed to take off me hat, or gloves, or scarf or ski jacket. Like feckin boil in the bag cod I was (Without the smell I add hastily). Mines Mr Husband actually enjoyed himself when he got into- I took him in the baking dept (he a bit of bread baker so he is)- he even bought his self a new baking sheet. Anyways I occupied meself by going and looking everyone else's basket. 'Do ye really need that?' 'Will ye be hiding that from your Mr Husband when ye gets home?' 'Did ye know they are just a pound in the pound shop?' 'Did ye know that Homebase got a sell and bedding sets just a fiver?' I made some new friends by initiating these conversations. Anyways the manager wasn't none to pleased and asked me to stop. I said I was sorry 'do ye want to see me boobies?'. She said she didn't. So I made up for it by sneaking around and adding stuff to peoples basket. Dunelm made a few extra sales yesterday and all thanks to me!!

 THURSDAY: Well I have to say its been a day and three quarters of a half today. Doing our Mr Tumnus shots in the woods- we realised nude photography is a shock to some- people covering thems kids eyes and running in all directions. 'Put your clothes back on' I begged Mines Mr Husband- 'ye are causing distress'. We did get a nice photo of some little squirrels playing with them nuts and Mines Mr Husband even played hide and seek with one. He was lucky they didn't go for his nuts! I assume the cold weather had something to do with this.

We went for fish and chips. I was asked not to take chips of peoples plates in the fish shop- or fish or sausages. Not allowed back in there!

Her at number 12 got her pumpkins out on the doorstep- Mr Husband noticed first. He always notices things like that first. 'Bit premature'. I told her. She wasn't listening. I had to shout it through her letterbox.

Also we took our beloved Jag to the garage for MOT. Tomorrow we go to collect it. We shall wear black and I might, even out of respect for it, wear knickers. The horrible man told us he wouldn't even MOT it. It is too deaded to MOT. We are deeply saddened- 8 years we have loved that car like it was our own. Well it is our own. I am glad that Mr Husband doesn't do emotional attachment. One of us crying a flood will be enough!!!

SATUDAY; Well I can only say its been a terse and fractions week. Me recovering from the dreaded lurgy and Mines Mr Husband recovering from nights- he did have a touch of the piftics midweek. Yesterday was the saddest day for a very long time for us. When I say Mines Mr Husband doesn't do emotional attachment- apparently that only applies to human beings and cats (although he is quite attached to my pussy). Cars, computers and books he does do. So we are both grief stricken over the demise of our beloved Jag. He drove it back from the garage- the man had written horrid things about it on the paperwork. I followed him back in the pea. Mines Mr Husband in the Jag- not the horrid man at the garage. That would be stalking. I am not that weird- unless its Johnny Depp or Colin Firth- that's different. The Jag looked sad. Elvis was singing 'There goes my everything'. Elvis was crying. Tears streaming down his face. Then he sang 'Only the Strong Survive'. The end of era. We sat numb, silent and sad ALL DAY. I need CAKE!!! Even when her over at the corner got her puppies out Mines Mr Husband didn't cheer up. He didn't even want to stroke them. His eyes looked as sad as theirs and his ears almost as floppy. On the plus side the Jag passed its emission tests. Less so Exeter town centre which is still ablaze!
Today is national cat day- so pussies everywhere getting lots of attention. (We hope).
Crankbrook is having its Pumpkin Party and Ball- I am not allowed to go on account of the cock ups last year when I arrived naked on my mine doing my wrecking ball routine. Apparently it is a family function not a feckin orgy. I got Ogre and Orgy mixed up again! The year before that they had a toga party and I went dressed as a goat. Tis me dicksleckyswhatsit that does it to me!
Don't forget to turn ye clocks back an hour. Ye gets an extra hour in bed. I already practiced this morning. I am quite excited because this means for the first time ever the clock in the pea will be right. Now all I have to do is remember not to add an hour every time I look at it!
MONDAY: Mines Mr Husband took me in Homebase this morning- he fecking take me anywhere- he has no shame. He bought me a new doofer thingy- which I will have to show ye all when tis charged up. It has tools and everyfink. I bought him some long nose pliers to pluck them tricky hard to get little feckers that gets up his nose- hairs that is, not people. He said he was going to buy me a pair to pluck the hairs on me moustache. He always finkin of me that man. He is too sweet.

Naked Twerking and the Doctor

Well me ol babbers I was off to see the rumour doctor this week. Mines Mr Husband was taking me there. He will take me anywhere that man. He has no shame. He has gave me this list of instructions:

Do not strip off anywhere unless invited, and certainly not in the waiting room.

If the doctor invites you too strip there is no need to look so eager and do not say 'I will if you will- I will show you mine if you show me yours' - tis embarrassing.

Do not announce 'lets play lucky dip' and go around the waiting room asking if anyone wants to give you 50p for a look to see if you are wearing knickers or not.

Do not fiddle with anyone's walking or hearing aids.

Do not touch the fish tank and do not hand them out as prizes to people for being good in the Doctors room

Do not sit anyone's kids to muffle them.

Do not tell the receptionist to get a proper job when she refuses to replace' relaxing classic crap' as you put it with a bit of Elvis and do not sing Elvis songs and try and get the old peoples up to gyrate their hips. Especially people with broken hips and legs.

Just when I thought he had finished he added:

And if you see anyone laying in a bed or on a trolley DO NOT poke, prod or pull anything to see if they are alive!!

I thought I  am soooo going on my own to this appointment if he is going to piss on my chips!!

Just as we was walking into the Hospital Mines Mr Husband said 'Remember what I said earlier and Don't jiggle anything of yours and certainly not of anybody else's. And no twerking'. Umph!

The first thing the doctor said was 'why have you taken all your clothes off Mrs Lucas'. I said 'I thought you might want to do an internal'. He said 'No- I don't put your clothes back on please'. I said 'I wore me best matching undies so I did'. He raised one eyebrow and said 'Matching what?'- I said 'Well me knickers match me eyes and me bra matches me handbag'.

Anyways he says 'ye haves fryupmejelly'. I said 'I know- I just told ye that you deaf fecker'. He told me that mostly its psycho whatsit. And all I need is acrobatics and sleep. No more cake and no more Elvis late at night in bed. He fair upset me with that comment to be honest. I shan't go again. Even if he hasn't invited me. I still shan't go again! Waste of everybody's time. I could have stayed in bed for an hour more. Going for a jog now! (If mines Mr Husband gets me mobility walker out the car for me!)

Twerking, Stripping and Stitching

Well I bet ye all thinking I lost me computer and can't be doing updates. Tisn't true if anyone tells ye this. I have been up to me neck. Mines little sister (NOT the one with the issues, constipation, accidental blue hair and part time camel toe (by her own admission)- the other one- her house burnt down - true it did. We have been helping her. That was on a Tuesday. Then on this Tuesday we had to take mines mother to  A&E to have her hand stitched together- she didn't want them stitched together but she kept putting her hands in her pockets and skipping and T'was getting dangerous at her age. I tell ye I fast be going off Tuesdays - tis a shame cos Tuesdays is orange and tis my favourite day. Apart from Saturdays which is my loud music and naked dancing day.

We sat all the afternoon in that darn hospital waiting and waiting. All they had for entertainment was a screen with information about vegetables. People in Bridgwater don't do vegetables. They should have had some burger and chips adverts or a couple of adverts on coke (ye can decide for yeself which sort!). I told ye receptionist 'come on woman, tis an emergency mines mother have had an accident and it wasn't her fault'. She said 'Take a seat and I will get someone to come and help ye fill out a claim form'. How annoying. 'Beggar off', I said, 'she be needing stitching first'. T'was true there weren't many people in that room at first but did soon fill out. T'was boring. So I stood up and said 'let's play I spy'. They all looked at me like I was gaga. Three foreign teenagers didn't know what I was saying. I am not any good at foreign. So I just poked each of them in the eye with a pen so they got the hang of it. 'I spy', I said loudly, 'with my little eye, something beginning with N'. Everyone looked around. 'Nurse' shouted someone one. Everyone jumped up and tried to follow the nurse. She hid in the loo and wouldn't come out until we bribed her with chocolate. Anyways I told them it wasn't nurse- T'was Numpty- T'was the man who came in with his boxers round his ankles. Can ye believe it he tried to shimmy up a drain pipe like that- or down. Couldn't hear all he was saying. He said his father was a boxer. I said ' don't tell me, ye mother was a poodle'.  Anyways the I spy was a washout. So then I skipped around the waiting room singing 'she'll be coming round the mountain when she comes'. I tried to get them all to join and do a conga. Apparently they can't do it without the Agadoo music and the receptionist said she only had Green Sleeves. I said 'that will teach ye not to lay on the grass in the lunch hour with the gynaecologist'. She said that that wasn't funny- she was only showing him her spot. Ooo-er Missus.

Then I organised a game of pass the parcel- first prize was a do it yeself stitch kit. Pity mines mother never won that- she couldn't have done with that.  The runners up prize was a do it yeself plaster of Paris kit for a broken leg. Ironic I thought that was as a runners up prize. Shame the old man that couldn't breathe won that- he could have done with some oxygen.

When he came in I could tell straight away he was an old pervert. 'Look mother', I says 'Its an old pervert'. She looked 'How do ye know that he is an old pervert?' she asked. 'Well', I tells her, 'listen to his heavy breath- he be one of thems  that breaths heavy down the phone to thee'. She thought about this for a split second. Then she got quite excited. 'Oooo-er', she said 'scribbling her phone number on an old tissue she had been blowing her nose on and mopping up blood with intermittently, 'give him my number' she instructed So I did. Also gave him mines little sisters numbers. T'wasn't easy I tell ye. His wife was trying to push me off. That was when the fight broke out. Then the doctor came round and ask me what was I doing. I told him he was an ol pervert- the ol' man with the heavy breathing not the doctor- although the Dr was a bit dishy so I reckon I could have perverted him. Anyways the Dr said that the old man was not a heavy breather or a pervert. He was having a asthma attack. I ask ye, how the feck was I supposed to know??

Then I got the receptionist to find some music- then I did me stripper routine. Tisn't easy ye know to do that to Space Odyssey. There were a couple of strokes and a couple of near misses. I heard someone gasping rapidly. Twas the old geezer with the asthma. Mines mother said ' Get yeself down off that desk and behave theself'. All i was trying to do was liven things up. Peoples feeling bad wants a bit of entertainment to take thems minds of things. Mines mother said she agreed but that poor bloke with the broken leg tried to run away when I did mines twerking up against him (tis the rules of twerking)- then he fell over and broke the other leg. Cue the man with the plaster of Paris kit. 'See', I said 'bit of community spirit tis all it needs'.

Anyways mines mother is all stitched up and I am not allowed back in A&E even if it is an emergency. I shall have to get mineself a stethoscope and go and disguised as a doctor.

Cock Ups, Big Knobs and Short Ass Flaps

It has been all fun and games up mines place this week. Well to be more precise- up Mines Mr Husbands place. You know the place where he spends time pretending to be flying (and earning the real money). In his cock pit. There happened to be a bit of a slip up in this cock pit. Well actually there happened to be one almighty cock up. Well to be perfectly honest it was Mines Mr Husbands cock up. Quite unintentional ye understand. Ye don't make Cock ups of this size on purpose. Unless ye are really bored. He has been in rather a tight spot in the cock pit all the week with this yer cock up. To be truthful a whole tube of KY jelly couldn't have got him out of this one easily. It was such that the Big Knob had to come down from yonder branch.And when I say Big Knob - I mean the Big, Big Knob. The Big Knob wasn't even big enough or brave enough to tackle a cock up of this size. And there wasn't too much hob knobbing either. I pleaded with Mines Mr Husband to let me come with him and have doings with the Big, Big Knob myself. But Mines Mr Husband stood firm. 'No, ye little twinkly tinsel tits' (he calls me all things Christmassy at this time of year), 'ye Gods I fear ye shall make things worse'. T'was what he said to me. All I wanted to do was run my ideas for a better workplace for thems all. I did make a list of these things once- did ye not read them?? I think a few net curtains, scatter cushions and fresh flowers would make a world of difference and cheer up a dull office. Also I think it would be good to get them all to have a group hug and sing 'Jesus wants me for a sunbeam'- cheer them all up before work. Still though Mines Mr Husband said he would remain firm during this cock up and I would have to stay at home. 'Ye can't come in to hob knob with the Big, Big, Knob during this massive cock up because tis a sticky situation and ye could make the sticky situation even stickier'. Personally I think he thought I would make a booby as well. Or that and turn up naked on mines wrecking ball. Or do a bit of twerking. Owt tis possible with me. I go by whatever mood in be in at that moment. 'Ye stay at home my little xmas fruitcake' (I told ye he calls me Christmassy things at this time of the year)- 'ye search for short ass flaps, or Manky, Wanky donkey flaps like that there woman had on the telly to let her little pony enter when he felt like it'. Anyways he said there was much tension what with the cock up and the Big, Big Knob from yonder branch being in town and they were all waiting anxiously for a small part from the American part of the world. It would be a very special delivery. 'I sit here all the week alone waiting for a small part' I tell him. 'I don't even mind if a larger part arrives- I will take whatever comes'. Anyways the small part arrives and they send one of the Small Knobs from yonder branch to put it in. This has not gone down well with Mines Mr Husband or the other Knobs at this branch. Even the Brown Nose Creep is showing his displeasure. It seems that for all the Cock Ups down there this week there has not been much pleasure all the way round. I think they should have allowed me to go in and have doings with the Big, Big Knob- I could have eased the tension greatly among all thems knobs I reckons. Still I tell ye there are stirrings and strifes between thems Small Knobs and thems Big Knobs and the Big, Big Knobs. I feel there will be a stand off between the knobs over this cock up. Mines Mr Husband and some of the other Knobs could very well tell the Big, Big Knob where to stuff his cock up and his cock pit. It may not end well my friends- I do so fear. There could be Cock Ups, Cock Pits and Small Knobs and Big Knobs and Big, Big Knobs flying all over the place!

Too many pussies, tits and Chewbacca

Ye probably all thinks I been gone into hiding this week but I am still here.  Been watching me tits bouncing round Mines Mr Husbands fat balls all the week and trying to keep the pussies under control. I tell ye its a full time job.

Chewbacca been arrested in Ukraine for campaigning for Darth Vadar to be prime minister- then they wonders why the country is a mess. They need Darth Vadar for prime minister. Ye can't trust that Putin blokey. He puts mine teeth on edge.

I have noticed the aeroplanes here do get very low- they'd turn mines blood to lamp oil so they do. Mines Mr Husband says that we do live next door to the airport and they have to get that low to land. 'What ye want them to do? Drop from the sky onto the tarmac?'  he asked. 'Yes,' I said , 'that would be preferable'. I have written a letter to the airport suggesting this. If I don't get a response I will have to get in touch with my MP Hugo doodah spires or whatever.

Mines mother rang to tell me she had been to Dunelm for nets. She found some for 48p. T'was a bargain I pointed out- apart from how much it costs in petrol to travel a round trip of 50miles. Then she said she felt so guilty for only spending 48p that she grabbed some other things by the checkout (that she didn't either need or want) just so as Dunelm wouldn't think she was a meanie drawers. I said 'mines mother, it is ok to go in and spend a small amount. It is even ok, (apparently- according to mines Mr Husband) to go in and spend nothing- although very very difficult'. Level of difficulty suggested 11.5 out of 10, but I did it once. But only cos I was poorly.

Mid week I suggested to Mines Mr Husband that we go on our holidays again to relive the love that I had for that holiday. He said we could only go for the day. I was so excited. He made me unpack the suitcase, including the bath mats and the ornaments. He said was only going for a feckin day and we wouldn't need all that stuff this time. I still sneaked in spare knickers and trousies though- well just in case. We climbed the cliffs again and I asked him if he wanted to climb the special high one (for old times sake)- the one that makes him look like a cockle on a rock. He declined. Instead he suggested he take me down the side of the cliff. Well ye know what I am like for being taken- always open to suggestions and new ideas. So we did a daring thing and climbed down the side of one. One cliff that is, not one idea. In all the excitement mines Mr Husband went surging ahead. I only went a little way and then I chanced to look down. I frozed. That girl in frozen had nowt on me I tell ye. I couldn't move. I was like the men that the grand old Duke of York had. I was neither up nor down. And I couldn't go either up nor down. I stood rooted to the spot. There was no way to move sideways and twerking weren't an option for there weren't enough room.. I thought 'Oh ye gods if I fall down there I shall surely break me camera'. And tis a good camera is that. Eventually a kindly woman coaxed me back to the top with some chocolate cake. She also made me put mines clothes back on. Mines Mr Husband was going on down to the bottom- until it got very tricky and then asked me if I wanted to go back down to meet him and fetch the car keys- in case he didn't make it. I said 'not on yer feckin Nelly I won't. I would sooner stick pins in me eyes and walk home than come back down there. There is chocolate cake up yer'. So I left him to it. 'Ye a silly old fool', I shouted from a safe distance. I didn't think he would chase me cos to be fair I had a head start on him.  I don't think we are cut out for that kind of adventure. We be too old I told him. It's played havoc with me dodgy hip and me feets and legs are fair knackered.

I did lay down on the top of the cliff to take some photographs. 'What ye doing down there fruitcake?' mines Mr Husband' asked. 'Why?, what's it gotta do with thee?' I asked. He paused. Then he said 'Nuffin. It's just ye are laid in cow pat'.  He had a point. I Told him to put his point away - we didn't all wanna see that thing in daylight. Then he took me on the beach-I tell ye he will take me anywhere that man. T'was very busy- peoples having holidays all over the beach and peoples surfing. I didn't like the beach being so cluttered with peoples. So I shouted shark- look shark- a few times- sharks do live in the water in Cornwall don't ye know. That emptied the place. We was able to enjoy the beach to ourselves- me and him and the shark.

When we got home I took all mines clothes off and got in the bath. That's how we roll in this house. And bath. I even put water in the bath.  Oh yes, we knows how to live it up in this house. Then mines Mr Husband called up all excited 'Ye books have arrived, ye books have arrived from New York'. I was so excited I flapped around in the bath like a flappy thing on a flappy day in the bath full of water. I am muchly pleased because they weren't going to arrive until xmas. Impressed I am. Have ye not bought yet? Quick get yeself over to Amazon and order ye copy.

Finally this week learned that twerking is soooo last year. Oh noooooooooooo! I likes me twerking I do. It's all about whipping your nae nae now- sounds too painful for me to even contemplate. Don't be telling mines Mr Husband though- he shall be wanting to give it a go half way down a cliff side. Oh and very lastly tis all excitement in this house. Tonight is the pumpkin party at the village hall. Mines Mr Husband has entered me. In the Pumpkin party (ye dirty minded feckers). He told them 'Mines Mrs Wifey is a pumpkin- a little pickled- but she will do a nice twerk for ye'. I might not. I might just go and whip me nae nae.

Knickers with Lace, Fat Balls and Tits, and Bull shit

ALL IN A WEEK AT OURS

Mines Mr Husband said that sometimes he comes out of work and he thinks 'I can't wait to get home and get mines wife's knickers off'. I said 'well don't be such an eejit- wear thee own knickers to work-you will get chafing from the lace from mine'. Ye Gods can a gal not have anything to herself..?

In the woods we found some bear shit and mines Mr Husband argued that it was Pony Shit. I don't know how the feck he knows. He can't even identify between foxes and badgers shit on the drive. I told him the way to tell is to taste it. Tis true I have seen this on a nature programme with Lee Evans. Mouse shit it was called I think. You taste it and then somehow you know if it is badgers shit or hedgehogs shit. I think the same happens with all the other kinds of shit too. I bent down anyways to have a sniff. 'It feckin stinks' I told him. 'It feckin stinks bad' I said taking another big sniff. Mines Granny said 'Take big sniffs it will be gone all the sooner'. Although that is usually cow shit. 'A husband who cares about his wife will taste this' I said 'in order to identify which kind of shit it is'. I took another sniff. 'It does stink really, really bad' I said, 'But not as bad as all the bullshit I been smelling this week'. Thus I concluded that I will rather sniff bear shit or pony shit than bull shit. But I have ousted the source of that now and all is good in the Lucas household now.

A BBC headline today is asking me if I would tell Apple if I have had sex- be jeepers what next? Tis only the business of the plums is what I say. De apples can mind their own feckin business.

I had a visit to see the new dentist. Money making racket if ye ask me. She said 'you grind your teeth a lot don't you? Why do you do that?'. Apparently because 'I like it' and 'what are ye a feckin therapist now', is not the right answer. She tried to sell me a thingy to go between my teeth to bite on to 'save them'. It is about 70 squids. I said 'I ain't feckin made of  money Mrs- I might be an awfur but I got to sell a heck of lot of three little pigs to make 70squid'. Instead I settled on buying cake to keep betwixt mines teef at nights to stop the grinding. Mine teef grinding that is not mines hips grinding. A gal needs a good twerk sometimes. Then, to stop me sucking she tried to sell me a new toof to go in the gap where the other dentist took one out two years ago. I like sucking I told her. I will stick a toffee in that gap and that should stop the sucking that displeases you and the kind of sucking I like can stay. I don't want one of thems false teeth. Mines Little Sister (the one with the issues and the day confusion) has one of these and it be nuffin but trouble. She even has to carry superglue in her handbag in case it breaks. The toof not the handbag. Although it did come in handy when her shoe broke and we was having a seaside day. I only had a ball of string. And ye all knows ye can't mend teef wiv string.

Mines Mr Husband has been getting the gardening done for me. He is currently have trouble with a whole herd of starlings attacking his fat balls. Tis very disconcerting for the tits it is. Mines Mr Husband do not display fat balls to attract starlings- only the tits. To be fair I do have a nice pair of tits who are eyeing up the little box I have put on the fence for them. I think we have a sale there guys.

Porky and Mess (the party size gateaux shaped people across the road- you remember them? Yes you do- I told you- she has an integrated bike rack-) they went to a party last week. I know. I seen thems loading up the car with cakes. And he had a clean shirt on. I followed them- well the cake called me- 'follow us, follow us'. So I did. They went to a party. I wasn't allowed in. Apparently they told the policemans I was stalking them. I said 'not strictly true your honour- I was stalking the cake- i have developed a dependency since hitting the menopause'. Talking of strictly I must remember to watch the results tonight. I felt sorry for poor old Tess Daley. She can only afford a dress with one sleeve. All that money the BBC takes in licence fees as well. I think I might drop a line to the secretary general or whatever he is.

Thats yer lot for this week folks. Its time for some Elvis whilst I lay on the floor waving me legs about and thrusting me pelvic floor muscles. Gotta keep thems hips moving.