that's the way it is with her, and i told she had to change her ways.
so she started eating with her fork in her right hand.

we lifted our spirits, and drank them.
then we really lifted our spirits and went for a ride on a roller coaster.
just as our rattling cart reached the top and were about to scream down a sheer drop, she told me she needed the toilet.
i said she'd just have to hold on.
unfortunately, she held onto me, and by the time we reached the bottom, my trousers were damp.

i didn't say anything.

i told her the romance had gone from our lives.
she told me to shut up and have a bite of her macaroon.

i did.

we're still together, but for how much longer?

? ... to be concluded ...

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So if I write Hmmm in one of my blogs or my comments, I give you permission to write something rude back to me.

That fair enough?

OK, well, let's give that a try shall we?

Ready?

Hmmmmm ....

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but it just sat back and let woolworths die.

i miss woolies.

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then, she realised - we were supposed to be entering the ballroom dancing competition at the Faggots and Gravy workingmens club!
thinking quickly, she raced to the car boot sale and chose a wig.
rather annoyingly, it was being worn by a woman who bred pigs and looked suspiciously like one.
she pursued us all the way to club and grabbed me in the middle of my fandango.
don't pick on me, i yelled in a high pitched voice.
but the panic was over - the MC shouted "the pies have come" and she elbowed her way to the front of the queue.

my darling and i won third prize - a home made steak and kidney pie.
rather ungraciously, she asked which home it had been made in - a remand home perhaps?

i didn't say anything.
when we got home, her pet goat cyril had rigged up a pole vault so he could eat her wig.

but she has such spirit!
she forced open his jaws, removed the wig, sat on it for five minutes and decided it looked better than the other one.

and people ask me why i love her so much...

... to be continued ...

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this is bad news.

i suppose there's now no excuse for not sending christmas cards this year.

(sob)

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how long have you been blogging?

do you blog anywhere else or just here?

what time of day do you usually blog and why?

do you blog because you enjoy it or does it just fill up some time?

what could be done to make blogging here a more pleasant and enjoyable experience?

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but, have they invented a pair of glasses that doesn't slip annoyingly down your nose, or end up tilting at a 45 degree angle because the arms have got a bit warped?

no, i thought not.
my nose is twitching as i write, trying to keep the glasses in roughly the right place.

but i suppose if it happened in mesopotamia, i could go to an opticians and ask them to mend your spex.

on second thoughts, i'll take a phrase book.

must remember my reading glasses, though...

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so there's a big fuss about politicians abusing the system and making loads of money on expenses.
then everyone says it's awful and something must be done about it, and we are promised a complete overhaul to restore trust.
then an inquiry concludes that, among other things, politicians should not be allowed to employ members of their family and pay them lots of taxpayers dosh.

so far, so good...

but now politicians have decided they don't like this new clampdown and they're all going to vote against it, because, after all, they were elected to make the big decisions, weren't they?

so, end result, the classic combination of a big problem which isn't sorted but is instead referred to a committee, who then come up with recommendations which aren't acceptable, and the original problem remains.

tell me if i got that wrong!

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we got away with it, but scared the living daylights out of the elderly people queueing up to choose their bonkbuster from the mobile library.
she yelled with happiness, and all the windows shattered.
she yelled even more as the excitement overcame her.
and my glasses shattered.
i yelled even louder than her, and she told me to shut up.
unable to see, we ploughed through a manure heap and ended up in the snug at the flying horse pub.

unperturbed, the landlord asked us - what'll you have?
she fluttered her eyelashes at him and his pet budgie was caught in the vortex and spun out of control into the chandelier, which exploded and fell on the landlord's head.

we looked at our watches impatiently as we waited an eternity for our drinks.

then we looked into each other's eyes and decided there and then that we wanted to be free spirits.

at least that's what i thought she meant - but i was wrong.
she had run behind the bar to get some free spirits.

were we drifting into a life of crime? were we about to become the next jonny and wide?

... to be continued ...

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at the end of the day
when all is said and done
i feel the hunger
so i reach for a bun

the question is, do you have something to eat and drink before bed?
if so, what is your night-time snack of choice?

night night!

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the woman in the pub tonight had obviously fallen in a bucket of scent.

i felt like pleading with the management to let her light a fag and stand over me as i scoffed my chicken and ham pie (very yum, thanks for asking) - it might have been less polluting.

the stink was amazing!

it's the sort of smell i used to get whenever i wandered round the department store make up department looking for xmas pressies (not for me, no) - an amazing blend of odours that had me gasping for the refreshing smell of the gents urinal on the last day of the isle of wight festival.

it raises the question of whether excessive perfume (sorry, scent) wearing should be banned in public.

or whether i am doomed to once again try to eat chicken and ham pie, by estee lauder.

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or in medicine, it is a substance in blood essential to the clotting process.

in television, it means a collection of clots who are beyond explanation.

or is that strictly come dancing?

i know millions love these programmes.

i don't, as you may have guessed.

i loved the x files, though.

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but have your teeth ever chattered?

mine haven't.
i was pretty cold today, too.
no vest, you see.

but my teeth stayed relatively calm and still.
except when they were tackling a wodge of carrot cake.
i was so puzzled by this that i looked closely at other people, waiting for the bus, or standing outside boots having a fag while they were waiting for the nicotine patch queue to die down.
their lips moved, but their teeth didn't.
even though they were very cold.

so who came up with this obviously false statement?

teeth do not chatter, ok?

i realise you might not actually care very much.
but if you can PROVE that your teeth have ever chattered, i promise i will eat a whole bag of licquorice allsorts.

with ice.

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my, hasn't it been windy today?!!!!
don't you just wish it would CALM DOWN!!!!
well, don't get your carrier bag in a knot, just check out my HOW TO SURVIVE STRONG WIND guide ...!!!!!

(this edition has already brought you TWENTY free exclamation marks!!!!! (oops, there i go again, make that 25...)

so, how do you survive in a gale?

1.  put your pets first - in other words, if you have a large dog or hefty rabbit, strap them securely down with a couple of tent pegs and a bungee cord, and simply lie down behind them so they shield you from the wind.
(i'll probably be in trouble for this.)

2.  if you must hang the washing out, drive about fifty miles into the headwind, and hang them up on the nearest telephone line, so they'll blow off and be dry by the time they come wazzing into your garden at high speed.  to be on the safe side, build a twenty foot wall to make sure you catch the washing.  you don't want your underwear disrupting air traffic over heathrow, do you?  ha ha ha.

3. take advantage of the power of the wind to blow dry your hair into experimental shapes.  you'll be amazed at all the attention you get when you nip out for your chewing tobacco later.

4. don't let your plants suffer.  high winds can cause severe damage, so get smart - trample your flowers and shrubs down with your wellies.

5. find someone you don't like and ask them to check the quality of the piece of string you're holding out, and watch them fly as they realise the other end is tied to a zeppelin.

so you see, having a bad attack of wind is not necessarily a bad thing.
just follow my advice, and let me know how you get on, won't you?

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Sir Elton John has cancelled more concerts, allegedly because of ill health.  But sources close to the 90 year old say he is concerned about the security of his hairpiece during the current windy weather.

David Miliband is due in Moscow later for the first visit to Russia in five years by a British Foreign Secretary.  He should have been there yesterday but the pilot got lost.  He told reporters: 'well, we haven't been there for five years. what do you expect?'

Weather:  Forecasters say it will stay wet and windy. And then it will stop. Sometime.

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i've forgotten.

i needed to remember today because i made countless pointless trips to and from my shed today, simply because i kept forgetting something.  it is annoying, isn't it?

where was i?

oh, yes - the shed... what was i saying?

oh dear.

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they changed their name because they didn't like people extracting the urine.

true.

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that's £700 a month, or so.

£175 a week.

or £25 a day.

well, it's cheaper than going on holiday, or buying a car, isn't it?

wonder why they're so expensive, though.

perhaps it's the cost of GTi Turbo buggies and designer babygros and Calvin Klein do-do's.

question is, now that we're totting up the cost, should babies get government loans that they have to pay back to their parents when they reach 18 - just before they go to university and qualify for another loan...

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later, over a pie and a pasty (hers, of course, though she did save me a half chewed bit of gristle), she asked me to help her choose a made to measure swimming costume.
well, we tried everywhere.
the boatyard didn't have enough sailing cloth. 
the builders yard had run out of tarpaulin.
in the end, i suggested we took a trip to the nudist beach.

it was strange.
the minute she dipped her toe in the water, all the fish jumped out onto the sand and surrendered.
she was doing backstroke about three miles out, and the next thing there was a news item on the radio about the discovery of a new species - the two humped whale.

she went jogging after to dry herself off, and nearly slapped herself to death.

i could wait no longer.
i grabbed my moment.

will you marry me? i said, tremblingly.

... to be continued ...

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so what?

they've got to eat too, haven't they?

when interviewed by detectives, the ring leader - kev - said: 'well, wimpy was shut and we was hungry. we regret it now. that family bucket was crap."

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this was taken after i had removed the pickled eggs etc

i am quite attached to my tights now.
so much so that i think i pulled a muscle trying to get them off.

i got the best reaction when i went to the greengrocers, as a matter of fact.
i walked in, cool as a cucumber, and ran out pursued by the owner threatening me with one.

people are so intolerant, aren't they?

anyone care to set me another challenge for next week?

ps - don't you just love that manly pose of mine.  i did think of posing with a pipe, but i couldn't lay my hands on one...

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it would certainly make life a tad more difficult for the anally retentive stuffed shirts who like strutting around in their business suits with their leather handbags (sorry, briefcases).

i think i might try it out tomorrow.

i'll just quietly tag onto the end of the queue at the fish and chip shop and see if anyone notices.

it's a zany idea, i know, but it might just catch on.

especially when i ask for ideas about how i can carry two pickled eggs and a gherkin back home.

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she looked a picture.
the scream, i think it was called.

i made the mistake of answering yes when she asked me if i fancied a club.
she hit me with one and laughed playfully as i fell backwards down the stairs and landed on a cucumber patch.

it was then that i knew that i had to marry this woman.
but would she wear my ring?
in a manner of speaking.

... to be continued ...

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now we know you like lemon drizzle and chocolate cake, and gin ... (no comment).

but now we all want to know

what's the best soft drink?

are you a coke addict;  or do you like seven up (which is not a criminal offence, as far as i know),
or maybe you like playing loose with juice.

remember, your vote counts.

well, a bit, anyway.

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i met an old lady today who was as wrinkled and frail as a runner bean left to wither on the stalk.
but blimey, did she have a story to tell!

mixing with big names on the Mirror when it was a massive empire, personal secretary to Harold Macmillan, and loads more.
then i find out she still owns a big estate, a farm, and a tourist attraction, and she is very, very wealthy.

yet if i saw her in front of me in the queue at the checkout, or gazing vaguely out of the steamed up window of her ford anglia five minutes after the lights had turned green, i would probably be categorising her as an old feg who should stay at home ...

it was a lesson learned for me.
everyone, they say, has a story to tell, and the older you are, the more likely it is to be interesting.

(and she still had a flirty instinct - kept touching my arm ...
yes. it's love.)

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well, i thought it was time to extend the concept.

starting with the new game of FANTASY CAFE ....

you are walking into a town centre caff, fed up cos shopping was a waste of time and they didn't have your size in anything except tea towels;  you want a nice brew and a monster slab of cake, and of course a sit down, but you also want to feel like you're in good company...

so ...

choose who you want to
- serve your coffee and cake
- sit on the same table as you

easy game, isn't it??

if you like, you can also choose who walks in and queues up for ages only to find the last almond croissant has gone, and then gets angry because you've taken the last seat in the place.

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they must be feeling so pleased with themselves for working out a way round the rule that was designed to restore some sort of trust in the system.

their reaction is proof, if it was needed, that the system really does need changing ... if only to wipe the smiles off their smug little faces.

if they want to cheat and play games with public money, they should be locked up and the key thrown away.

how's that for a new system?

and, how lovely, they could share a cell with any MP they like!

on the other hand, they might decide they're safer with a sex offender...

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i'm not sure whether building something new in its place has got the same level of satisfaction.

like today - ripping a workbench and hardboard panelling out of my shed so it can be moved to its new pride of place at my new palace.

the joy of it is over now, for me.

it'll be really boring putting it all back together again.

sigh,

i know!  i'll knock a wall down! that'll cheer me up.

if you've got anything you want destroying, just give me a shout, won't you??

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someone famous said something like that, but who cares who it was.

it was just my way of leading in to asking you a question, which calls for complete honesty ...

what's the biggest lie you have ever told, and why did you tell such a big porkie?

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this is one day.
it's nearly half way through.

one day.
what am i going to do?

they say there's always tomorrow
but who knows these days...

i'm going to make the most of today -
one day.

from the eagle eye cheesey poems collection 2009

(it sounds like it ought to be a song from a musical, doesn't it?)

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