Does anyone know why my blog looks ok in Firefox but crap and un-formatted in Safari? Jag? Popeman? Is anyone out there? Thanking you muchly (phrase overheard in Australia last time I was there – wonderfully awful).
Been feeling a bit like this the last few days – normal service will resume at some point when I pull myself out of the fug I’m currently lodged in. Got a case of the blogging blues………just going to have a word with myself and stop being a bore. Back soon.
The little one has just told me that he LOVES Geoffrey from Rainbow. I’m not too happy about that – mainly because Geoffrey is wearing a rather tight pair of lewd red dungarees and is arguing with Bungle. Bungle wants to play the trumpet and Geoffrey’s fighting Zippy for the paper and comb – more like the skin flute and pork sword if you ask me! And as for Rod Jane and Freddy – disgraceful hippy free-love commune escapees – although I have a strange recollection that I used to wish Jane would be my mother. Don’t go there. Definately time for bed now.
It’s quite nice to find out someone has been so kind as to name their hotel after me but a shame it’s in the city thought of as THE most boring in the world – Brussels. Maybe I’m jinxed – my birthday is also officially (according to eminent mathematicians) THE most depressing day of the year. Ho hum. Apologies for random gibberish posting but am nursing a small hangover after impromptu night out. And as Mary Dejevesky points out rather well (extraordinarily badly) in her recent Independent article – I am a woman – I shouldn’t be blogging at all or if I am I should be waxing lyrical about having to scour the baby sick off my Farhi silk two-piece whilst hot-housing little Oscar on flash cards of quadratic equations and rustling up a coq au vin in my Agent Provocateur corset all at the same time.
Blah blah blah – an early night beckons – can’t wait as I know I will wake up feeling SO much better than I have all day today. It has been a struggle. Here’s a picture of me with my very first awfully heavy mobile phone circa 1989. Utterly riddick (thank you thank you annie rhiannon for that great word).
The attractive fringe was really rather riddick as well. It was grown out some time ago you’ll all be pleased to know.
Thank you and goodnight.
Had to get the bus back to Richmond from Chiswick as the tube was shut. I didn’t really mind as I was a little tipsy and quite like getting the last bus home as you can eavesdrop on random (usually drunken) conversations. I sat at the top in front of recently split-up-from-partner bloke and sad single bloke friend who was imparting ‘relationship advice’ to his newly single workmate. Apparently Jan wants all his stuff out of the flat – well, it has been there 6 weeks and he did leave her because he wanted to try and go out with Sarah who is already in a relationship. Don’t blame her really. He couldn’t see what the fuss was all about. He said he thought she was being unreasonable and well, really petty. Apparently, Robert in the office who used to go out with her said he thought this guy was a ‘saint’ for taking her on as she’s ‘really high maintenance’. ‘You did the right thing’ said friend. ‘Do you know Laura? Pashmina?’ Quizzical look from newly single guy. ‘She’s the really busty one that always wears a pashmina so we call her Pashmina’. ‘Oh yeah, yeah’. ‘Well I think she really fancies me but apparently she’s a bit hard work from what I’ve heard’. On and on they droned. I taped their whole conversation on my mobile phone. Will transcribe more gems later. Pashmina fancier was desperately trying to get newly single guy to move nearer him – he was obviously lonely. He even offered him space to store his stuff. Newly single guy asked him if it was ‘safe. Safe from elements? Single now rather affronted guy said ‘YES it’s a dry loft, fully insulated, it’s a proper roof and everything. Newly single: ‘oh right, cheers mate yeah I might do that. I really don’t know what I’d have done without all you lot like everyone at work has really been on my side. I feel sorry for Jan but I had to do it, there wasn’t any other way to do it really. I really want everyone to meet her. Single guy: ‘I’d really like to meet her’. We should do that. Newly single: ‘I think you’d really get on.’
You can see how this is going can’t you?! I bet Single will end up going out with Newly Single’s Ex – Jan and Newly Single will probably chuck himself into Pashmina’s ample bosom and hopefully the carefully stored loft items can be un-packed somewhere else and dusted off for another office relationship somewhere off Twickenham Green.
I forgot to mention – I DID go back to visit the ‘lady on the roundabout’ at her makeshift camp the day after I posted. It was pissing down with rain so I figured she’d be in the tent. But no! Moved on. Everything gone, freshly mowed and all tidied up. So I forgot all about it until last Friday I took a shortcut through a local churchyard as I was in a hurry to get somewhere. It was a bit quiet and eery. Basically, you have to walk down a nasty thin alley between two buildings which brings you out to the side of the churchyard. As I entered the churchyard a really pungent smell hit me – not good – kind of B.O. and strong sweaty feet smell all mixed together with mouldy damp. Not that great on a hot day. Then I saw alot of belongings on a bench generating this horrid stink. A mouldy tent, the side table with troll, bags and bags of clothes and lots of litter. As I turned out of the churchyard I suddenly saw a very angry person lumbering up the road ripping at a packet of fags, chucking the plastic covering everywhere and kicking bollards. It was the Roundabout Lady. She is very imposing – big, butch and has ginger hair which is shaved very close to her head. So there she was stomping up the road back to her new home in the churchyard scary as hell, very aggressive. I thought about going back through the church yard but common sense for once kicked in (must be getting old). In hindsight, I think I would have had an interesting reception had I gone to talk to her in the tent originally but slightly relieved I didn’t now. Despite that, she shouldn’t be on the streets – no one should. I wonder where she will move to next.
I have something to admit. I’m really not stupid I promise but I had a real Olive from On the Buses moment this morning. I’ve always wondered what the abbreviation LOL stands for when people post a comment etc. and I’ve been very confused for a very long time genuinely wondering why people sometimes pepper their posts with what I though was an abbreviation for Lots of Love. Doh. Doh and Doh again. I overhead a woman in the Starbucks queue this morning describing an e mail she sent to some friend and she did the whole inverted comma’s action “laughing out loud” with her fingers. Halle-bloody-luja – it’s only taken quite a few years to click but at least now I know what the hell people are going on about. I’m not really one for abbreviations so I don’t T I B U I I T F (that’s “think I’ll be using it in the future” for all you abbrevo’s). Lots of Love xxx
There is a lady that has been camping on our local roundabout for the last few weeks. There was also a group of serious alcoholics that lodge at a halfway house near the roundabout that were also camping there a few months ago. It got a bit messy and they didn’t cope with the rain very well. Finally, their Cath Kidston tent (I know! Such taste!) fell into more and more disarray. I saw one of them helping a completely incapacitated member off the roundabout a few weeks back – maybe back to the shelter of the half-way house? One day it all got cleared away.
But, a big shaven-headed lady is back. Nice blue tent, a hoarde of clothes in piles outside and hanging from the trees. Today I saw a low side-table with a vase of flowers on it and a small toy troll. She was sun-bathing the other day seemingly oblivious to the constant traffic encircling her. I might go down and take photo’s and post them up later. Hopefully she’s not violent or anything! No one seems to move her on and she isn’t causing any trouble so why should they? I was wondering whether there is some loop-hole in Thatcher’s idiotic ‘travellers can’t stop anywhere ever again ever’ law that means roundabout’s are exempt?
I’m meant to be making a music cd for my friend’s wedding anniversary tomorrow but no, I think I’ll just watch “Plastic Surgery – It Ruined My Wife” instead and have another glass of wine. Him indoors with recently Rooney-style break in foot (oh we’ve had it all this week) snoring like a bison on the sofa. Quite a horrendous noise but nothing is as horrendous as this stupid old ugly bag of a mullet
or this freakoid!
Rockmother 