1, I feel that, personally, when bar staff are overly presumptious (competent) and brazen (accommodating) to ask you *if* they can get you another wine! then they should fill it up a bit more than the policy amount. I felt pressured into saying "Yes please, a large one". I really did.
2. If I was to do this blog sarcastic thing for a living (my lesser read friends have suggested as such), it would certainly mean an alcohol dependance, as I am fruitfully more apt and skittishly bright when I have the Flavour.
3. I feel a little mean writing that ^^. As one of the ones who suggested it is actually really eager-literate and knows what he/she is talking about.
4. Win. Phew.
5. I don't think I'd get on that well with Ed Sheeran (he seems the shy and retiring type...they don't dig me much) but I do really like him. I'm in a bar waiting for a potential drinking pal and "Small Bump" is playing. It makes me well up with sadness.
6. My appt in London cancelled today. It wasn't really her fault...someone from the paper pushing corporate should have let me know apparantly. So, I did the right thing of legging it straight home to the hungry mouthed bambinos and washing up.
7. No. I didn't. I stayed out on beer duty in a plight to my blogging comrades.
8. Thank god for the old schoolers. On hearing my London Town outing, my dear aunt (also a second <better!> mother to the children) felt that it's only prudent that my poor malnourished OH gets fed around her loving, steamy and meat-fuelled kitchen too. God only knows, he may have had to make his own dinner when his flappy girlfriend (not even a wife!) staggers around the capital ordering wine and schnibbles. Seriously, she's great, that woman. Her real name is Margaret and she hates it!! We shall call her CAM (Crazy Aunty M**) for now.
9.We've just booked a little holiday to Norfolk in a "Elite Holiday Villa". This is actually a Static Caravan with sympathetic panels to cover up the gap between the caravan floor and the concrete base on the earth ground. We are taking the aunt and uncle because they deserve it. I'm more excited about the road trip there and back (we've hired a 7-seater!!!) than anything else. Uncle R (let's call him Ricardo for the sake of anonymity) will want some Elton John on and we can all laugh at his singing.
10. Hiring a car is a PITA. They wanted to know if I had "penalties"; These are totally subjective to perceptions and religious standing, right?
11. A 7-seater car means, apparently, that the 3rd row of seats are occasional and hinders the boot room of the car. Ok. Doable. I know that, despite prior warning and clear explanation, CAM will still bring extra bedding for a bed that doesn't exist in the "Elite Villa". And surplus food for the children. And bacon for OH.
12. I don't reminisce much about my old pre-children life. I'll scrap that. That's a lie. I do. But I'm getting at a point here. Bear with me. I was thinking today about some plans we have as a family. A bit of house improvement. An "Elite Villa" holiday in the windy Wash. Impending Sea Life centres and too-hot chips from the bag. Sling walks and earthy wanky smugness. Clubhouses with much-below-par "entertainment". Scampi Fries and fruit machines. Terrible discos and dancing competitions. OH and I in (apparently) single beds that are questionably narrow. Children snug in their own MDF cradles. This is what it's all about, eh? This is what makes my eyes prickle with excitement. It's a bit shit compared to the old stuff. But my GOD! It's my family and I truly love them.
13. My children are going to be right arses on holiday. They will hurt my feelings by dampening expectations. Ha!
14.Honestly..if Carlsberg did aunts....it would be CAM. I bet she doesn't get that this song is about you.....don't you....*don't you*...x
15. This bar is filling up rapidly with people wearing suits. Nothing much else make a me feel more uneasy than corporate people and being overdominated by such. I've got on Peacock Jeans on and a St.Elizabeth's Hospice castoff. *nods*. I'm a home working twit and no, I nothing about what you are discussing and I likely never will.
16. CAM is still asking Richard if I mean her.
17. I fell asleep on the train last night. I got the late one home; only 10:30pm..not too late. I gathered an arsenal of sandwiches and crisps for the journey. I'd had a few beers so I got some water too. I closed by eyes for just a few minutes passed Chelmsford. Was woken by the "ding dong, you are now approaching Colchester". Cool beans! The tannoy will awaken me when I arrive at my destination, stealing me another 10mins kip on this warm train with a bellyful of Peroni and Salt and Vinegar squares.
18. Alas, the tannoy disappeared at Colchester. I woke again as no train was stationary in Ipswich (and about to depart for Diss) so I legged it off the train leaving a billowing (and ashamed) pile of crisp packets and sandwich wrappers. Sorry bout that Abellio Greater Anglia...but you will insist on sporadic alarm clocks that are most inconvenient.
Thursday 29 May 2014
Tuesday 20 May 2014
Today's observations 20.05.2014
1. Positive stories about Northern accents.
This is how you talk to someone if you are from the south of England.
"Shall we partake in the consumption of alcohol refreshments, wot wot?"
This is how you talk to someone if you are from The North.
"Fancy a beer?"
2. Negative stories about the same.
There's a Starbucks in Manchester station. When you order your coffee/tea, they write your name on the cardboard sleeve in order that they can call your name when your custom-made frothy-worthy consumerised crap is ready. So, I'm standing there waiting for my Mango-Schpango juice thing (I have another story about this later) which was obviously attributed to the name of "Jess". Other people were waiting too. The barista has a ready coffee in her hand ready to hand over to the rightful owner. She is small and cute and local to Manchester (Gemma). She shouts "Jeh! Jeh!" Everyone looks at each other. This name doesn't belong to any of us. The coffee has no owner. More importantly, we are still waiting for *our* drinks, with which the process will now take longer, because staff are fannying around trying house this orphan coffee.
"Jeh! Jeh". Everyone still looks taxed. I peek over the bang-bang coffee machine to see if someone is still making other people's drinks so we aren't endured to be here all day.
"Jeh?! Jeh!".
At this point another barista comes over. She is Eastern European but I can't tell you exactly where (Helena). She takes the coffee away from Gemma and reads the sleeve aloud: "Jay? Anyone called Jay?"
With that, the spectacled geek-chic lad next to me piped up "Yes, that's me!". He turns to us apologetically, as if it's his own fault that his name was so mispronounced.
3. I tried to elaborate my southerness whilst up North recently. I tried to talk like Holley Willoughbooby but instead sounded like JAAA-nit Street-PAWW-AH. I remarked to a northern pal; "I really need sum war-ah". "You mean water" she tastefully and neatly quipped.
4. There's a massive toilet on this train; it takes up at least a quarter of the carriage and is one of these custom-fit plastic units like a giant porta-potty. It has electronic doors which open and shut at a touch of button. When you sit on the toilet doing your thing, a flighty electrical blip could cause this door to open of its on accord; thus displaying you at your most vulnerable state, to the whole of the carriage. I don't trust this door. The same seemingly minor electric flaw that causes, for example, the fucking wifi not to work on this train or that annoying blinky bulb in the overhead light could also whimsically open the toilet door whilst you are pulling your pants up.
5. That cocainey one from Status Quo just got on my train at Bury St Eds. He was probably here to buy cocaine. The Cockney rebel.
6. I used the tram today. No one checked my ticket and I could have done it for free. This useless fact now bothers me a little.
This is how you talk to someone if you are from the south of England.
"Shall we partake in the consumption of alcohol refreshments, wot wot?"
This is how you talk to someone if you are from The North.
"Fancy a beer?"
2. Negative stories about the same.
There's a Starbucks in Manchester station. When you order your coffee/tea, they write your name on the cardboard sleeve in order that they can call your name when your custom-made frothy-worthy consumerised crap is ready. So, I'm standing there waiting for my Mango-Schpango juice thing (I have another story about this later) which was obviously attributed to the name of "Jess". Other people were waiting too. The barista has a ready coffee in her hand ready to hand over to the rightful owner. She is small and cute and local to Manchester (Gemma). She shouts "Jeh! Jeh!" Everyone looks at each other. This name doesn't belong to any of us. The coffee has no owner. More importantly, we are still waiting for *our* drinks, with which the process will now take longer, because staff are fannying around trying house this orphan coffee.
"Jeh! Jeh". Everyone still looks taxed. I peek over the bang-bang coffee machine to see if someone is still making other people's drinks so we aren't endured to be here all day.
"Jeh?! Jeh!".
At this point another barista comes over. She is Eastern European but I can't tell you exactly where (Helena). She takes the coffee away from Gemma and reads the sleeve aloud: "Jay? Anyone called Jay?"
With that, the spectacled geek-chic lad next to me piped up "Yes, that's me!". He turns to us apologetically, as if it's his own fault that his name was so mispronounced.
3. I tried to elaborate my southerness whilst up North recently. I tried to talk like Holley Willoughbooby but instead sounded like JAAA-nit Street-PAWW-AH. I remarked to a northern pal; "I really need sum war-ah". "You mean water" she tastefully and neatly quipped.
4. There's a massive toilet on this train; it takes up at least a quarter of the carriage and is one of these custom-fit plastic units like a giant porta-potty. It has electronic doors which open and shut at a touch of button. When you sit on the toilet doing your thing, a flighty electrical blip could cause this door to open of its on accord; thus displaying you at your most vulnerable state, to the whole of the carriage. I don't trust this door. The same seemingly minor electric flaw that causes, for example, the fucking wifi not to work on this train or that annoying blinky bulb in the overhead light could also whimsically open the toilet door whilst you are pulling your pants up.
5. That cocainey one from Status Quo just got on my train at Bury St Eds. He was probably here to buy cocaine. The Cockney rebel.
6. I used the tram today. No one checked my ticket and I could have done it for free. This useless fact now bothers me a little.
Monday 19 May 2014
Today's observations 19.05.14
1. It's not good etiquette to attempt to order a wine top-up from train staff who are not assigned to serve refreshments. The man with the bin-bag couldn't be less accommodating.
2. I'm opposite a huff puffer on the train. She tuts, sighs and eye-rolls to *herself* every 10-12 mins. Her lips are constantly pursed. Her brow is constantly raised. She is significantly unhappy with the fellow commuter whose suitcase brushed her leg when he walked past. She is irked by the content of her magazine. She is miffed that she was asked to show her ticket. She doesn't want to make conversation with me and I'm afraid to say that I am a little intimidated to make eye contact with her. And...she looks just like the sly do-gooder in Muriel's Wedding that grassed up poor Muriel's mum to the Feds for punching some flip flops.
3. Laying on the platform, without kids, in the sun at the Ely station. It's a lovely day. I'm chilling like a chilled one. Except for a small pebble that is now undoubtedly imprinted into my buttock.
4. Tried to take a picture of my slovenly sunbathing at Ely station, just to show fellow FBers what a nice relaxing day I am having. Took pic. I was squinting in the sun and resulting picture showed a big shiny white forehead and a face that was impossibly unmistakable for my mother's.
5. My reliance on technology is both relieving (how up-to-date am I!) and angsting. My phone's battery died on The train and I had to find my hotel without the map app contained within it. I actually had to speak to someone and indulge in their locational advice. How very beneath me and unpleasant.
6. It's not grim up North. My train is running along in between Sheffield and Stockport. The rolling hilly view is lush, velvety and just outstanding. It really portrays health and lustre. I can't get enough of it. It looks so idyllic.
7. Which is ironic seeing as Manchester issued me Hangover 4.3 this morning with a stealthy upgrade to Chronic Thirst 1.11 and Iffy Guts Pro.The idyllic fauna of the Pennines didn't save my sorry ass from that dodgy Danish beer that I drank 6pints of. I've since installed Norton Lucozade 2.5 and Macafee Bacon Elite to combat problem.
8. The trolley dolly made his appearance on the train after me waiting 2hours for something to eat. I was famished. I was thirsty. I was so happy to see Wayne from East Midland Railways. This Day 1 of my trip, so I hadn't yet installed Hangover 4.3. I asked the dude if they sold wines and stuff. "Of course!" he replied, and whipped out a massive, near-full-size, bottle of wine. "You look like you can drink this", he said. Cheeky fecker. He was certainly judging a book by its cover. I obvs look like I have a drinking problem or something. Huff Puffer grimaced again.
9. The beautiful Beyoncé lady studying Bio-Chemistry next to me blew me away for the whole of our trip. It was like watching Matt Damon scrawl his formulae genius all over the damn place. She then got a phone call from her (loud) boyfriend who was an out-and-out w*nker. She spent the last 15mins of her studying journey apologising for something, asking him not to swear and reasoning with the douche.
10. We are so lucky to live here. Sun shining through window. People reading mags. Trolleys being rattled through carrying sanitised and packaged food stuffs.
11. Just drove past an abandoned Warehouse car park: desolate concrete with a few cracks and weeds. There is a Vauxhall Caviller driving around; navigated and steered by a 4yo on her Dads knee. Brings back memories of us doing that with Dad in a Mazda 323 inComet car park on Ranelagh Rd.
12. I'm dead thirsty after that wine (I opted for the small bottle; Wayne's assumptions rattled me a little). Can I have some of the huff puffers water?
13. The umpteen FB memes posted by pages I have "liked" in the past, I've diagnosed, are really only thinly veiled attempts at racist patrioticism. George of England, We Love England (ergo) you are all Foreign Bar Stewards etc. Gah. Unlike, Defriend. This stuff is not helpful.
14.I need to buy an orange-red lipstick. All the young goodlooking people are sporting this. I need to tick this box to encourage my young goodlooking aspirations.
15. I'm so thirsty.There just be a Boots at Manchester Piccadilly. I need a lipstick and water.
16. I bought the lipstick (shade: Make an Entrance!) and forgot the water.
17. My pal and I did the pub quiz. Up North, all the questions are about politics.
18. Have decided to walk back from the station to home on this glorious day. The combination of Norton and Macafee saw away Hangover 4.3. There's a pub on the way home. I might meet OH and the children there.
19. I see that Flavour 6.0 Platinum Edition is available now. I think I shall just defrag overnight and try an install a bit later on the week. I reckon.
20. Sigh. Huff puff.
2. I'm opposite a huff puffer on the train. She tuts, sighs and eye-rolls to *herself* every 10-12 mins. Her lips are constantly pursed. Her brow is constantly raised. She is significantly unhappy with the fellow commuter whose suitcase brushed her leg when he walked past. She is irked by the content of her magazine. She is miffed that she was asked to show her ticket. She doesn't want to make conversation with me and I'm afraid to say that I am a little intimidated to make eye contact with her. And...she looks just like the sly do-gooder in Muriel's Wedding that grassed up poor Muriel's mum to the Feds for punching some flip flops.
3. Laying on the platform, without kids, in the sun at the Ely station. It's a lovely day. I'm chilling like a chilled one. Except for a small pebble that is now undoubtedly imprinted into my buttock.
4. Tried to take a picture of my slovenly sunbathing at Ely station, just to show fellow FBers what a nice relaxing day I am having. Took pic. I was squinting in the sun and resulting picture showed a big shiny white forehead and a face that was impossibly unmistakable for my mother's.
5. My reliance on technology is both relieving (how up-to-date am I!) and angsting. My phone's battery died on The train and I had to find my hotel without the map app contained within it. I actually had to speak to someone and indulge in their locational advice. How very beneath me and unpleasant.
6. It's not grim up North. My train is running along in between Sheffield and Stockport. The rolling hilly view is lush, velvety and just outstanding. It really portrays health and lustre. I can't get enough of it. It looks so idyllic.
7. Which is ironic seeing as Manchester issued me Hangover 4.3 this morning with a stealthy upgrade to Chronic Thirst 1.11 and Iffy Guts Pro.The idyllic fauna of the Pennines didn't save my sorry ass from that dodgy Danish beer that I drank 6pints of. I've since installed Norton Lucozade 2.5 and Macafee Bacon Elite to combat problem.
8. The trolley dolly made his appearance on the train after me waiting 2hours for something to eat. I was famished. I was thirsty. I was so happy to see Wayne from East Midland Railways. This Day 1 of my trip, so I hadn't yet installed Hangover 4.3. I asked the dude if they sold wines and stuff. "Of course!" he replied, and whipped out a massive, near-full-size, bottle of wine. "You look like you can drink this", he said. Cheeky fecker. He was certainly judging a book by its cover. I obvs look like I have a drinking problem or something. Huff Puffer grimaced again.
9. The beautiful Beyoncé lady studying Bio-Chemistry next to me blew me away for the whole of our trip. It was like watching Matt Damon scrawl his formulae genius all over the damn place. She then got a phone call from her (loud) boyfriend who was an out-and-out w*nker. She spent the last 15mins of her studying journey apologising for something, asking him not to swear and reasoning with the douche.
10. We are so lucky to live here. Sun shining through window. People reading mags. Trolleys being rattled through carrying sanitised and packaged food stuffs.
11. Just drove past an abandoned Warehouse car park: desolate concrete with a few cracks and weeds. There is a Vauxhall Caviller driving around; navigated and steered by a 4yo on her Dads knee. Brings back memories of us doing that with Dad in a Mazda 323 inComet car park on Ranelagh Rd.
12. I'm dead thirsty after that wine (I opted for the small bottle; Wayne's assumptions rattled me a little). Can I have some of the huff puffers water?
13. The umpteen FB memes posted by pages I have "liked" in the past, I've diagnosed, are really only thinly veiled attempts at racist patrioticism. George of England, We Love England (ergo) you are all Foreign Bar Stewards etc. Gah. Unlike, Defriend. This stuff is not helpful.
14.I need to buy an orange-red lipstick. All the young goodlooking people are sporting this. I need to tick this box to encourage my young goodlooking aspirations.
15. I'm so thirsty.There just be a Boots at Manchester Piccadilly. I need a lipstick and water.
16. I bought the lipstick (shade: Make an Entrance!) and forgot the water.
17. My pal and I did the pub quiz. Up North, all the questions are about politics.
18. Have decided to walk back from the station to home on this glorious day. The combination of Norton and Macafee saw away Hangover 4.3. There's a pub on the way home. I might meet OH and the children there.
19. I see that Flavour 6.0 Platinum Edition is available now. I think I shall just defrag overnight and try an install a bit later on the week. I reckon.
20. Sigh. Huff puff.
Monday 5 May 2014
Today's observations 05.05.14
1. Today we were consumed by the FLAVOUR. We aren't sorry. It's bank holiday. Things happen. Shit goes down. We went there. It's all gravy.
2. The kids and I just returned from a family weekend away at some local relatives. It was most fun. My OH had the whole bank holiday weekend to himself to bake cakes. It should have worked. It did. But he informed me of a most funny story about his Sunday night out. I was amused. I'll tell you lot: after 9ish hours on the piss, he was in a reasonably nice club and decided that his bowels were moving. He actually was in a *night out* and needed a poo. He went. In the nice club. He fell asleep on the toilet for approximately 8mins whilst doing his thing. I found this really funny. I can't imagine needing to do that on a night out. I find it funny that the idea is inconceivable to me. Of course some people want to that on a night out. Weird people.
3. During my family weekend away, my OH did lots of cleaning (maybe prompting the enthusiastic gut) and tidying and chucking stuff away. He found new porn. This spurred a few high fives on our return. Weird people are us. Dat shit ain't normal. (I mean our eagerness....not the porn content).
4. We got a kebab tonight after FLAVOUR delving. The kids came too. They had something nutritious and biege. We had a Chicken Shish and Cocky Chilli Sauce. Hands up! We are tossers. We have spent the last 20mins eating it in the most unattractive state. The newly discovered porn is most needed now. Imagine the old cartoons of the thirst-stricken starving man, ragged, dragging himself through the desert in search of salvation and hope. That was us. We consumed the Cocky Twat Chilli sauce riddled Shish with gusto and quick regret. We panted like sweaty dogs. We actually had our tongues hanging out of our mouths.
5. My OH keeps passing wind. I've gone beyond the point of getting cross. This transition *actually* happens when you've known each other a long time. He has done it *so* many times! and the stench is so unreservedly pungent, that it now makes me guffaw most cheerfully. He doesn't even mean to be so rotten. I don't like the action, nor the smell. But he clearly can't help it. No one would choose to be so fundamentally foul.
6. There's not much that makes a parent move quite so quickly**** off their pub bench that a large *eager* dog that has entered a beer garden without being invited and started swishing around the kids.
7. This is funny. My son, who is a bit daft, launched himself onto our local pub's bouncy castle today. He was so excited and flappy. The bouncy castle wasn't even inflated!!! It was flat!! Haw haw!! I really laughed. He couldn't bounce at all! He looked at me, whilst remaining flappy and excited, and slapped the sad stitched vinyl a few times. I was giggling into my Sauvignon.
8. After our manageable kebab, we watched Storage Wars. If you haven't seen it, do. It features a series of private storage units that have done to disarray and are subsequently sold off to the highest bidder with the intention of selling the contents on for profit. The idea is cool. The contents are interesting. But the bidding is most exceptional. There are a group of Brandis, Randis, Candis and Als who all fancy this collective of crap gear. Real shit junk. The organiser guy is asking for bids. He does it likes this: mmmmm-galah-balah-balah-wallawalla-wallaballa-WANT!-HUNDRED!! Mmmmmmm-walla-ballah-wallWallA Wahhhhh!!!! Balla-Galla-TWO!!!! Wah!! Gah!! THREE!!! FOUR-FIVE!!!! Mmmmmmmm-walla-wallla-walllla.. Someone eventually wins!
****i didn't see it. I was texting someone probably.
2. The kids and I just returned from a family weekend away at some local relatives. It was most fun. My OH had the whole bank holiday weekend to himself to bake cakes. It should have worked. It did. But he informed me of a most funny story about his Sunday night out. I was amused. I'll tell you lot: after 9ish hours on the piss, he was in a reasonably nice club and decided that his bowels were moving. He actually was in a *night out* and needed a poo. He went. In the nice club. He fell asleep on the toilet for approximately 8mins whilst doing his thing. I found this really funny. I can't imagine needing to do that on a night out. I find it funny that the idea is inconceivable to me. Of course some people want to that on a night out. Weird people.
3. During my family weekend away, my OH did lots of cleaning (maybe prompting the enthusiastic gut) and tidying and chucking stuff away. He found new porn. This spurred a few high fives on our return. Weird people are us. Dat shit ain't normal. (I mean our eagerness....not the porn content).
4. We got a kebab tonight after FLAVOUR delving. The kids came too. They had something nutritious and biege. We had a Chicken Shish and Cocky Chilli Sauce. Hands up! We are tossers. We have spent the last 20mins eating it in the most unattractive state. The newly discovered porn is most needed now. Imagine the old cartoons of the thirst-stricken starving man, ragged, dragging himself through the desert in search of salvation and hope. That was us. We consumed the Cocky Twat Chilli sauce riddled Shish with gusto and quick regret. We panted like sweaty dogs. We actually had our tongues hanging out of our mouths.
5. My OH keeps passing wind. I've gone beyond the point of getting cross. This transition *actually* happens when you've known each other a long time. He has done it *so* many times! and the stench is so unreservedly pungent, that it now makes me guffaw most cheerfully. He doesn't even mean to be so rotten. I don't like the action, nor the smell. But he clearly can't help it. No one would choose to be so fundamentally foul.
6. There's not much that makes a parent move quite so quickly**** off their pub bench that a large *eager* dog that has entered a beer garden without being invited and started swishing around the kids.
7. This is funny. My son, who is a bit daft, launched himself onto our local pub's bouncy castle today. He was so excited and flappy. The bouncy castle wasn't even inflated!!! It was flat!! Haw haw!! I really laughed. He couldn't bounce at all! He looked at me, whilst remaining flappy and excited, and slapped the sad stitched vinyl a few times. I was giggling into my Sauvignon.
8. After our manageable kebab, we watched Storage Wars. If you haven't seen it, do. It features a series of private storage units that have done to disarray and are subsequently sold off to the highest bidder with the intention of selling the contents on for profit. The idea is cool. The contents are interesting. But the bidding is most exceptional. There are a group of Brandis, Randis, Candis and Als who all fancy this collective of crap gear. Real shit junk. The organiser guy is asking for bids. He does it likes this: mmmmm-galah-balah-balah-wallawalla-wallaballa-WANT!-HUNDRED!! Mmmmmmm-walla-ballah-wallWallA Wahhhhh!!!! Balla-Galla-TWO!!!! Wah!! Gah!! THREE!!! FOUR-FIVE!!!! Mmmmmmmm-walla-wallla-walllla.. Someone eventually wins!
****i didn't see it. I was texting someone probably.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)