SB is in Asia this week, best place for him.
Downside, I have to cook.
I can cook but choose not to, most of the time.
He on the other hand, well just lets say its like living with Julia feckin Child meets Gordon fuckin Ramsay.
He is a very good cook but oh the trail of devastation he leaves in his wake.
He's a Kitchen ABUSER.
No counter top is safe, the stove is a weak defenseless critter and the copper sink has never had the chance to evolve and Patina, such is his domination over it.
Poor wee sink.
He drips!
Yes he does!
It's nasty...
He abuses the sink and then drips EVERYWHERE!
The floor and cabinets take most of his drippyness - that's not a word, spell check is yelling at me with her rather sexy red dots, do I care? not one JOT!
Whilst I normally partake of delicacies beyond avarice, tonight I'm having frozen Mac and Cheese (microwave) BUT my Kitchen is GLEAMING!
I am surrounded by contented counters, a smiling stove, convivial cabinets, fanciful floors and a SPARKLING sink.
I'm feckin STARVING though!
Hurry back SB, the Kitchen NEEDS YOU!
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
Monday, April 12, 2010
Memories by Barbra Sriesand
Memory is a fickle companion.
Recently the most random recollections have popped to the forefront of the old gray matter.
Things I'd forgotten
I don't like it.
Memory stalker!
Today for example, I was talking to the kids about being sent out out play (all day) when I was only three years old. It was the norm way back then, loads of wee bairns running around the streets.
Woooosh up pops a memory , so vivid I think it must have had a full color done at the brain salon.
I'm three, maybe four but I don't think so...
I was to give a horse shoe to a neighbor who was getting married that day.
A uniquely Scottish custom?
Wee bairns give rather pretty silver plastic horseshoes to new brides as they exit the Church, for luck. It's quite the honour.
Mum was out and Dad sent me out to play at the swing park across the road.
Crossing roads wasn't really a problem, I think there were only about 5 cars total in a five mile radius.
At the park I remember there was an older girl. I asked her if she would lift me up into the "baby" swing. They were made of wood back in the day with a metal crossbar to hold you in.
She picked me up, plopped my ass in and feckin LEFT!
God only knows how long I hung there!
I was trapped!
The swing was designed to KEEP ME IN.
Not a bugger in sight to help me.
I needed to poop.
And I did.
I was definitely potty trained and you can hold a poop in for quite some time which leads me to believe I was hanging there for a few hours.
So now I'm trapped in POOP!
My Dad eventually decided to come looking for me.
My Knight in shining armor, NOT!
He was furious with wee Miss Poopy pants.
Again I don't know if this behavior is only Scottish but ALL parents (in the home and in public) not only spanked their kids but turned it into an art form with rhythmic yelling.
WHAT - spank - THE - spank - HELL - spank - DID - spank - YOU - spank - DO - spank -THAT - spank - FOR- spank ( rep chorus all the way home)
It was with a sparkly clean ass and red throbbing legs I handed the Bride her horseshoe to wish her luck...should have kept the fecker for myself, I was the more needy.
Aye...
Recently the most random recollections have popped to the forefront of the old gray matter.
Things I'd forgotten
I don't like it.
Memory stalker!
Today for example, I was talking to the kids about being sent out out play (all day) when I was only three years old. It was the norm way back then, loads of wee bairns running around the streets.
Woooosh up pops a memory , so vivid I think it must have had a full color done at the brain salon.
I'm three, maybe four but I don't think so...
I was to give a horse shoe to a neighbor who was getting married that day.
A uniquely Scottish custom?
Wee bairns give rather pretty silver plastic horseshoes to new brides as they exit the Church, for luck. It's quite the honour.
Mum was out and Dad sent me out to play at the swing park across the road.
Crossing roads wasn't really a problem, I think there were only about 5 cars total in a five mile radius.
At the park I remember there was an older girl. I asked her if she would lift me up into the "baby" swing. They were made of wood back in the day with a metal crossbar to hold you in.
She picked me up, plopped my ass in and feckin LEFT!
God only knows how long I hung there!
I was trapped!
The swing was designed to KEEP ME IN.
Not a bugger in sight to help me.
I needed to poop.
And I did.
I was definitely potty trained and you can hold a poop in for quite some time which leads me to believe I was hanging there for a few hours.
So now I'm trapped in POOP!
My Dad eventually decided to come looking for me.
My Knight in shining armor, NOT!
He was furious with wee Miss Poopy pants.
Again I don't know if this behavior is only Scottish but ALL parents (in the home and in public) not only spanked their kids but turned it into an art form with rhythmic yelling.
WHAT - spank - THE - spank - HELL - spank - DID - spank - YOU - spank - DO - spank -THAT - spank - FOR- spank ( rep chorus all the way home)
It was with a sparkly clean ass and red throbbing legs I handed the Bride her horseshoe to wish her luck...should have kept the fecker for myself, I was the more needy.
Aye...
Saturday, April 10, 2010
Moving On Up by M People
Where was I?
Oh yes, boobs.
I had my first Victorias Secret experience a few weeks ago and what an experience it was!
Move over Wallyworld we're done.
It was fine while it lasted but you never enhanced me to my full potential.
BAD Walmart.
I only went to Victorias Secret to have the girls fitted ( daughters! ) and in a moment of abject misery, surrounded by beautiful lingerie and beautiful women I had a brain fart and decided to get myself measured to see if VS could "raise" me out of my despair.
I was indeed measured. The outcome?
I've been AUGMENTED!
I looked it up in the dictionary and it says - ( To make (something already developed or well under way) greater, as in size, extent, or quantity )
No Victorias Secret did NOT give me a 3rd boob.
My boobs are developed though and the term "under way" definatley applies
- thank you gravity for that one, you nasty, nasty piece of work.
My cup size went from "C" to "DD" with just one glance at a measuring tape.
Bluddy amazing...
They got me trussed up like a feckin chicken, started my credit card smoking
( Marlboro Lights up to 20 a day) and home I trotted with a rather pretty pink bag full of DD, did you get that? DD! bras.
Me - Ma boobs are afwy close tae ma chin! I'm no likin this.
SB - Eh?
Me - I SAID, Ma boobs are afwy close tae ma chin!
SB - I hate to tell you this but thats where they're supposed to be.
Me - Well I'm still no likin it *sighs*
SB - It'll take a while to get used to it I suppose, it's been a while.
Me - Are you sue this is where they're supposed to be?
SB - I'm sure
I'm still skeptical.
Got nice undies though!
Oh yes, boobs.
I had my first Victorias Secret experience a few weeks ago and what an experience it was!
Move over Wallyworld we're done.
It was fine while it lasted but you never enhanced me to my full potential.
BAD Walmart.
I only went to Victorias Secret to have the girls fitted ( daughters! ) and in a moment of abject misery, surrounded by beautiful lingerie and beautiful women I had a brain fart and decided to get myself measured to see if VS could "raise" me out of my despair.
I was indeed measured. The outcome?
I've been AUGMENTED!
I looked it up in the dictionary and it says - ( To make (something already developed or well under way) greater, as in size, extent, or quantity )
No Victorias Secret did NOT give me a 3rd boob.
My boobs are developed though and the term "under way" definatley applies
- thank you gravity for that one, you nasty, nasty piece of work.
My cup size went from "C" to "DD" with just one glance at a measuring tape.
Bluddy amazing...
They got me trussed up like a feckin chicken, started my credit card smoking
( Marlboro Lights up to 20 a day) and home I trotted with a rather pretty pink bag full of DD, did you get that? DD! bras.
Me - Ma boobs are afwy close tae ma chin! I'm no likin this.
SB - Eh?
Me - I SAID, Ma boobs are afwy close tae ma chin!
SB - I hate to tell you this but thats where they're supposed to be.
Me - Well I'm still no likin it *sighs*
SB - It'll take a while to get used to it I suppose, it's been a while.
Me - Are you sue this is where they're supposed to be?
SB - I'm sure
I'm still skeptical.
Got nice undies though!
Friday, April 9, 2010
Don't look back in anger - Oasis
Bluddy Hell...she's BACK
And inspired by the one and only DOLLY!
Listening to her tonight and thinking - my BLOG - WTF happened?
So, after my AWOL, here I find myself, in a relationship with "The Italian Stallion" Mr Pinot Grigio himself and missing all my blogpals.
Dinnae worry the SB is "alive and Kicking"
It's been one shit year.. but shit happens.
Here I am older,uglier,droopier (did I ever mention that I can sunbathe on my tummy and end up with BURNT nipples ? )
GIRD YOUR LOINS!
I NEVER take prisoners ;0)
And inspired by the one and only DOLLY!
Listening to her tonight and thinking - my BLOG - WTF happened?
So, after my AWOL, here I find myself, in a relationship with "The Italian Stallion" Mr Pinot Grigio himself and missing all my blogpals.
Dinnae worry the SB is "alive and Kicking"
It's been one shit year.. but shit happens.
Here I am older,uglier,droopier (did I ever mention that I can sunbathe on my tummy and end up with BURNT nipples ? )
GIRD YOUR LOINS!
I NEVER take prisoners ;0)
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