Tuesday, 29 December 2009

A Bit Of Stuffing Between Christmas And New Year

During the festive period I imagine that many instruments have been used, left unwashed and then abandoned. Many of these instruments may have needed batteries. I recommend that all used instruments are disposed of in a sensible manner. Please place your used instruments in this bag with a full and concise description of what your instrument was used for. And whether it was fun. And please mention if it was used for basting the turkey.

Tuesday, 22 December 2009

Happy Christmas!

I've been trying to get into the Christmas spirit, which is a big ask this year for many of us. Anyhow, if there's one tune guaranteed to make me want to hug everyone and go all fuzzy and a bit dribbly, then it's this one...

Happy Christmas to everyone, let's hope next year's a good one.

...Blimey, last year I was flashing my knickers at Santa and relieving him of his sack. This year I'm not even sure I've got the energy to sweep my chimney to smooth his passage...

Thursday, 17 December 2009

Smeg And Nekkid Showers...

Well what a palaver. What can I say... during the past month I have spent at least a week sleeping on the floor of an empty house - no fridge, no furniture etc... it was very hard, but not in a good way. And then, when I finally moved to Devon, the phones weren't connected. Eventually heads will roll. I am not good at suffering. I am good at temper tantrums.
Anyhow, enough of the whinging... the good news is that the Smeg survived....

...but there's still nothing in it...

Is the floor cleaner, Mr Jimmy?

....and I have a question for those who use proper shower cubicles: Do you clean your shower cubicle nekkid?
I do.

Saturday, 14 November 2009

Something For The Weekend

Now does this low fat cheese really melt under the grill? Who cares... the ad's great. And mice prefer peanut butter, soap and biscuit wrappers...

Tuesday, 10 November 2009

Strictly Not Cricket

For chrissakes... what is wrong with me??? It just goes from bad to worse. I am developing a crush. I know the signs. Silly giggling, flushed cheeks etc. And even worse than that I'm now checking out old cricket matches. I'm sure Dave will have something to say about this.
I've had some bizarre mini crushes in my time, but... why am I writing a flipping post about it.....? I should know better and in future I will leave the fetish stuff to Leah.

...And Kerrie will have something to say about this Youtube.

Sunday, 1 November 2009

Dreams and Schemes

There is a vague possibility that I may be moving into a 'Live/Work' unit; this is probably the funniest sentence I have ever written. People who know me well will be clutching their sides laughing at this scenario and may even drop dead through the effort of stifling their sniggers. I am not famed for my work ethic. It is also questionable as to how I've managed to survive so comfortably for so long. But as my looks are now falling to my knees I suppose I ought to start making an effort. Even my eyelashes are beginning to need support [I kid you not, the other day I found myself contemplating buying eyelash curlers - something I've never needed before].
So what will I be doing? There will be the removal of layers, rubbing down and touching up. It will involve paint splattered overalls; an electric sander [there is only so much that I can achieve by hand], and a splash of artistry. It will be fun.
It is true, I am a lazy bugger, but when I get the bit between my teeth I am something of a goer.

***UPDATE*** Blimey, it looks like this is actually going to happen. I feel sick. So I might be a little busy over the next few weeks. What a weird year. I've been in a packing and unpacking frenzy. I will keep you updated.

Friday, 30 October 2009

Happy Halloween!

It was a dark dark night. The moon was full of cream cheese and bats flapped around in front of it like they do at the start of all good scary movies. There were a few stars scattered around as well, just to highlight how dark it was.
It was 1970. Peter and Tracy were huddled to together on the sofa and were being forced by their evil step-mother to watch repeats of 'The Singing Ringing Tree'...

...which would lead to them having a life long fear of dwarfs; men dressed up as bears and beached whales...

Tuesday, 20 October 2009

Cold Calling

Cold callers can be annoying but also rather fun. They usually ring to ask you to switch your energy provider or broadband connection. There is a simple and effective method of dealing with them.
Firstly they will ask if you are the homeowner. Always say 'no'. It is imperative that you do not expand on this simple negative. 'No' will suffice. They will then ask if they can speak to the homeowner. Again, reply 'no'. They will then ask if you are a relative of the homeowner. Reply 'no' [can you see a pattern forming?]. At this point you might be able to discern a faint hint of frustration in the voice of the cold caller who may go on to ask if you are a friend or neighbour of the homeowner. Reply 'no'. The cold caller will then ask you who you are. You now have the cold caller in the palm of your hand.
Suitable replies:-
Vera Lynn
Princess Ann
A burglar. [My personal favourite]

Wednesday, 14 October 2009

Not About Bushes

For the time being I don't want to look at the dratted white flag when I come to my blog but I have bugger all to write about. Recent popular subjects have included slugs [slugs score very highly on this blog it seems], Smeg fridge freezers and Kent bashing. Bushes have been popular but I think I may have overworked my bush...?
Joan Collins was on the telly last night, doing her bit to give British women a shot of glamour.... so I'll throw her into the mix... she's always good value for money...

Anyhow... that's better than looking at the dratted white flag. And many thanks for all of your kind and supportive comments.

Thursday, 8 October 2009

A Short Post

For his 200th blog post Mr Whirly ran an 'undulatory' competition. I entered and my name was first out of his hat so I won a prize!!!!!

It may look like a short post but it's so much more and I am very pleased with it.

Other news: At my request Z has named a cow after me! And you can see her here. I am extremely chuffed. No field or farmyard is complete without a Scarlet.
Further news: Mrs P is back and is taking requests.
More news: Monty Python is 40 and I think this Youtube ties this short post together quite nicely...

I am no longer sulking.

Saturday, 3 October 2009


Sulking is not pretty. I think it probably encourages wrinkles. But sometimes it's the only option available. So I am sulking. I'm quite good at it.
Playing merry with my bush is one thing, removing a whole tree is another.

Wednesday, 23 September 2009

Drive Sexy

Here we see Maureen from Margate. Despite eating five pots of yoghurt a day Maureen is still feisty and has plenty of verve. She has just stolen a wedding dress, a white dinner jacket, a picnic hamper and a Val Doonican CD from Bhs and is now cruising in her brand new Peugeot intent on snaring a man with whom she can share her booty. After turning right on the roundabout at the top of Bromley High Street, Maureen finds herself on the A30 where she spots hitchhiker Gavin.
Gavin is an unemployed petrol pump attendant from Plymouth seeking work on Bodmin moor. He has not been lucky. As he recovers from being knocked over by a coach load of pensioners on a day trip to Glasgow he is attracted by the sight of Maureen’s bumpers. They are wonky and need realigning. Pleased with Gavin’s attentions Maureen lifts her bonnet and displays her engine. Gavin is immediately drawn to her magnetic stack and is blown away by her gear head efficiency. After checking her big end and playing with her hooters Gavin collapses in the passenger seat and allows Maureen to give him the drive of his life. She does several miles down Fanny Avenue; enters Butt Hole Road; gets a bit lost in Lickfold before leading him astray in Ladygate Lane. Gavin is quite relieved when they arrive in Cardiff.
In Gretna Green, Mike, the Mexican Priest, is waiting to perform the wedding ceremony for Gavin and Maureen. He is fond of his nuptials. When they arrive he does his best Elvis impersonation, he wiggles his pistons, reaches a point of high excitation and blesses their future by writing a heartfelt message on the rear window of their filthy 207. They are wed. And Maureen is happy that she spent her money learning to drive sexy.

Sunday, 20 September 2009

Wonderful Life [Jukebox Monday]

I have been tagged by Mr Gyppo to write a list of once in a life time experiences that I wouldn't like to ever, ever experience ever again... ever. Sounds straightforward.

1) Being Dressed up as a kangaroo.
2) Slamming my thumb in a train door [an oddly queasy experience when you realise what is preventing you from taking your seat]
3) Falling into a ditch of stinging nettles.
4) Being stood on by a donkey.
5) The sinking feeling I felt when I realised that the very very important document that the whole office had been hunting high and low for, for at least two days, had been on my desk all along.
6) Being dressed up as Humpty Dumpty.
7) Falling off a wall whilst dressed up as Humpty Dumpty.
8) Being stopped by the police whilst dressed up.
9) Being packaged as a doll in an art exhibition and not being allowed to move... or laugh.
10) Using a home hair colouring kit which may have turned my hair ginger. I DID IT ONCE, GOD DAMNIT, I AM NOT GINGER NOW.

I would like to pass this tag onto: Kerrie; Savvy; Pat; Madame D; Mr XL; Mr Swings; Mr Mags; ZIggI and of course... Dave.

Sigh. Meanwhile, here is a tune.

Tuesday, 15 September 2009

Slugging It Out

When slugs die they leave great big blobs of jelly on footpaths and doorsteps. If you come into contact with a great big blob of jelly you are likely to slip and cause damage to your rear. It is a national disgrace that more isn't done to warn the general public about the perils of dead slugs. I propose that every bush and herbaceous border in England is surrounded by that yellow tape stuff to highlight this real and very present danger.

I thank you.

I still haven't moved.

Thursday, 20 August 2009

This Is NOT Goodbye...

...this is just an interruption.
I will be very busy over the next month or possibly longer. There is a glimmer of hope that my house sale is going through, so I am packing my bags... the biggest bag holds an awful lot of Estee Lauder products... and my hair straighteners.
I'm not sure where I am moving to yet... so watch this space... I will be around sporadically and will try to keep up as best I can with blogs. Hopefully everything will be done and dusted by Christmas and me and my Smeg fridge freezer will end up in the same place.

Tuesday, 18 August 2009

The Noughties

I have never really got used to calling this decade 'The Noughties', and it's nearly over. Is the next decade going to be called 'The Teenies'? And if [fashion wise] the noughties was about revisiting the eighties... are we now set to revisit the nineties... and in twenty years time will the eighties be back again? Is there ever going to be anything new or will we forever regurgitate old trends?
And finally, will trends change so fast that there are no trends?
I am feeling deep and philosophical.

In the eighties we were loved up with the sixties... and the seventies were thought of as the decade that taste forgot.... how times change.... or don't?!

Thursday, 13 August 2009

Messing About

The evenings of my youth smelt of Jazz aftershave and tasted of Jack Daniels poured over glassy chinkles of ice. Nothing much mattered except good lipstick, mascara, big hair and reciprocated urges. Thursdays officially marked the beginning of the weekend, when my friend Gina and I would see if we could club solidly for three nights in a row. I always think of Gina as my sophisticated side-kick. Now she really could suck the creme from an egg without smearing her lippy, and she always looked stunning in Miss Selfridge black lycra mini dresses and six inch stilettos, whereas I preferred tight belted baggy trousers from Top Shop and ballerina pumps. She liked to pose, and I liked to dance. We were a good team, she could immediately attract and I would do the chatting. We never used to eat before going out, perhaps we'd share an extra strong mint and a squirt of Goldspot spray in the back of the cab before we arrived at the club, but we'd usually be too hyped to eat food. Anyhow, one night Gina had been force fed a curry before coming out and she said that her stomach felt a bit grumbly but reckoned she'd feel better after a drink... so she drank... half a bottle of Piper Heidsieck Champagne, four glasses of house white and two Crème de menthes [looks like washing up liquid, but pretty with a pink cocktail umbrella]. We left the club at about 2am and there were no cabs left, but I never minded walking home, I liked to burn off the buzz. Half way home and Gina began to complain that she needed the loo really badly. She was desperate. Busting. So although it meant taking a short-cut through a really dodgy estate, I said we could probably use the loos on the platform at the railway station. By the time we got there I also wanted to go, and being faster on foot than she, I dashed into the only working cubicle. Big mistake. When I came out something terrible had happened. On platform 2 of the railway station was a perfectly round cow-pat. Still steaming. Very odd because we were in town. And Gina must have been knocked over by the cow because she was crouching on the floor still staggering to get up....
Oh happy days. No CCTV, only the station manager to contend with...

Saturday, 8 August 2009

That's Life, So Wot?

I have chronic PMT. I feel like breaking crockery; I have a dull headed feeling and I feel like I'm chewing cardboard. I am oversensitive. And I can hear fingernails dragging across a blackboard. I am irrational. My head feels like it's in a vice. Or perhaps I need a new vice? Or some advice?
I NEED SOMEONE TO BE NICE TO ME. Failing that, a Moscow Mule will probably do. And a fag.
Anyhow, here is a clip of film made by a media studies student.

I am now going to put myself in a secure unit. It is for your own safety.

Wednesday, 5 August 2009

Tried and Tested

I have tried Boots No7 Protect & Perfect Beauty Serum. I keep thinking it's called Protect & Survive or Protect & Preserve or Protect & Pickle. Anyhow, I thought I ought to try it after a scientist person tested it on a BBC Horizon programme and said that it could reverse the effects of aging. Well, I'm usually an Estee Lauder girl, but I thought I'd cut costs and try the Boots range. Results: the serum made my skin greasy and all my make-up slid off. I also tried the No7 pore minimising serum. This is like putting masking fluid on your chin and if you rub it too hard you get little white bits all over your face. I never usually have to pay for this kind of experience.

And don't think that cos your a bloke that this post doesn't apply to you. I am looking for a chap to test this:-

Come on, you know you're worth it.

AND, as an afterthought, why is it that when women age their skin gets baggy and saggy; it wrinkles, goes blotchy and then finally dries up and falls off, whilst men, on the other hand, just get a bit tired?

Saturday, 1 August 2009


I have a posh voice for answering the phone and a common voice for shouting and whining and chattering. Same goes for writing.
This is my shouty unedited writing:-

This is from my notebook. A private place that nobody is ever, EVER, supposed to see. You may recognise the post... only the pic isn't very good and I haven't got a scanner. Most of my posts begin in my notebook cos I can't really type. I can only manage one finger. Four if I concentrate.
And this is me practicing my posh writing. It makes me cringe because all I see are the squashed up letters and misplaced serifs. I don't know what it says. I think it's from an Oscar Wilde book. Again, as this is a practice sheet and not a final piece... nobody has ever seen it before:-

*Click to make big etc.

Wednesday, 29 July 2009

Domestic Angst

I don't know if any one's noticed but I've actually run out of things to write about. I think I am bloggy blocked. And I have post-angst. I am a post-angstist. Something has gone wrong. I don't have a giant glowing light bulb in my head, instead I have a string of twinkling fairy lights, but they have all fizzed and popped. It's very sad. And Adverts are no longer floating my boat. I have things that aren't very interesting to write. Such as my shopping list:-

Ceramic china ducks
Pink leggings
Leopard print leggings
A House
Hot water bottle cover
Tortoise feeder
Glow in the dark post-it-notes
Pink fringed sateen lamp shade
Plum sauce
Staple gun

I'm also very anxious about the handwriting meme, which I originally saw at Savannah's. I've drafted it in my head, but it's awkward. It's awkward because I was a calligrapher, so it would be like showing off. I am becoming a neurotic blogger.
I think I need a dose of oomph.
And, as an afterthought, how do you get towels fluffy without a tumble drier? Do I have to flap them in the breeze or something... or perhaps use a hair drier and a stiff brush....?

Sunday, 26 July 2009

8 out of 10

I have a visitor. He stays overnight; I give him fish fingers or a nibble on my chicken fillets, but then he buggers off after breakfast. I am a muppet, and shouldn't allow myself to be used in this cruel, thoughtless, heartless way. Sometimes I don't see him for days. I deserve better, but as soon as I've forgotten about him he turns up again, looking dishevelled, slightly the worse for wear, and in need of tender loving care. It will all end in tears...

The funny thing was that he turned up about a week after I had to have my sweet old cat put down. So how did this stray ginger tom know that there were cans of Whiskas going begging? Cats are smart aren't they?

Thursday, 23 July 2009

Play Away

I've been searching for the new UK Always ad. But I can't find it. Last year's ad featured bumper cars; this year's ad features pinball to demonstrate that whilst wearing an Always pad you can still play in your knickers. Sigh. I know the marketing bods at Always are just trying to be creative with a 'delicate' subject, but really... all a pad needs to do is pass the tight white Jeans test and prevent unsightly mishaps on cream upholstery. That's it. Now does the following ad capture this message?

No, it doesn't, it says: Wear an Always pad for the ride of your life....

Sunday, 19 July 2009

Cornish Coastal

It now all feels like a distant memory. Anyhow, I travelled down to Cornwall without making any unnecessary detours into Wales [though Wales is nice]. For a week I ate Fish 'n Chips, ice cream and Cornish pasties. But I got lots of exercise so this wasn't a problem... other than I got chip fat on my camera lens. I also got burnt. The weather can be unpredictably warm. I stayed in Carbis Bay/St Ives. I want to go back....
[And yes, I have been mugged by a flock of seagulls - one will knock the food out of your hands and before you know it you're re-enacting a scene from The Birds].

Wednesday, 15 July 2009

A Credit Crunching Tip...

....SMILE....and give your tits a lift. Please note that this also works for droopy moobs and saggy jowls.
I am in the process of sifting through my holiday snaps/washing clothes/ironing/catching up with Corrie [Oh, poor Molly]/EastEnders [will Tanya never learn?]/ and I'm still finding myself unable to care about this year's Big Brother [I guess the money is on Charlie, he is the most boring] - Actually, I think I only watch bits of BB so that I can enjoy Charlie Brooker ripping it apart....otherwise I wouldn't get the joke, would I? Anyhow, I will have my holiday slide show prepared by the weekend... I think the seagull may feature again...
Meanwhile, here is a toe-tapping tune.

Saturday, 11 July 2009

Postcard From The Edge


Still searching for a decent stick of rock. Food is delish. I am burnt. Wish you were here etc, etc....

Lots of love Sxxxxxxxxxxxx

Thursday, 2 July 2009

A Public Information Film About Buses

Well, how times change... anyhow I'm off now. Catch you later.

Tuesday, 30 June 2009

Dyson does Dallas - The Sequel

Last October I thought of a way for credit crunched advertisers to save money: Instead of fifty or sixty 30sec. ads between programmes; what if the advertisers all club together to make a commercial mini movie? Anyhow, here is the sequel.

Beat temptations with Special K mini breaks

Life has not been kind to Mindy, Molly and Duncan. The credit crunch has hit them hard. They are no longer smooth operators; they are no longer chauffeur driven to their work place in a Vauxhall Zafira and Molly and Duncan are no longer exquisitely beautiful. Sadly, Duncan and Mindy are now working in the accounts department of a global international fancy dress factory in Camber, and Molly has moved into catering. They have all tried to embrace their new life-styles. Each morning they strap on Tena incontinence pads and ride their camels across the dunes until they reach the office. Before the working day begins, they head to the communal toilets where Mindy changes into Little Red Riding Hood; Molly becomes a wicked witch and Duncan is a mucky devil. They no longer chat about L’Oreal hair care products – Duncan is bald, Molly has a hat and Mindy prefers Pantene.
By about 11am, Mindy is feeling bored and peckish and starts to fidget around like a famished ferret looking for a spare trouser leg. Duncan grins devilishly and teases her with his cheesy balls. Mindy is tempted and she chews her fingernails to demonstrate how tortured and tempted she is.
Meanwhile, Molly is roaming around the corridors with her tea trolley and trays of lard laden bakery products. The change has not been good to her. She has gone a bit grey, and too much munching on Maltesers [despite being less than 190 calories per bag] have made her figure fuller, so that the only outfit that fits her is an apron and a funny hat. She is bitter and when she sees Mindy looking svelte and glamorous in her fancy red frock, she lets rip and offers up a cream stuffed muffin. Again Mindy chews her fingernails to indicate that she is distressed, yet strangely tempted. Mindy sighs. Neither Duncan nor Molly understand her…. if she eats too much she will burst out of her corseted costume and will end up being fit for nothing but the arse end of a pantomime cow. And so, to beat temptation, she nibbles demurely on a her Kelloggs Mini Breaks - crunchy, biscuity, cardboardy and only 99 calories a bag. She is starving, but saint-like, as once again Duncan gets naked and Molly plays around with his bubbling Aero [like in the original – this is a sequel after all]. By 3.30pm Duncan is tired of dunking Molly’s Toblerone Triangle and Molly has done all she can with his Wotsits… so they both pack away their edibles and bugger off to the pub, leaving Mindy to clear up the chocolatey, biscuity, mucky mess, which is strewn across the factory floor. Mindy isn’t bothered, she prefers to work alone. Dyson Flexi Crevice Tool? or Dyson Wand Handle? Either way she will be consumed with pleasure.

....my work is done...

Sunday, 28 June 2009

28 Weeks Later

There's a tune that's been really bugging me. It's been used in TV dramas and in documentaries to heighten dramatic effect. I didn't have a clue what it was... I was even going to do a blog post asking if anyone knew... It begins softly, but with clever repetition climatic tension builds... gradually it becomes harder and louder... louder and harder... harder and louder...
I'm sure somebody would have known what I was banging on about. Anyhow, I have been saved the embarrassment of virtual humming. Luckily I saw '28 Weeks Later' at the weekend... and I have been relieved of my frustration.
Play it loud; love it, love it, love it!!

Saturday, 27 June 2009

Something For The Weekend...

.... and tissues ready...

Yep, I know Ben was a pet rat but this always makes me cry...

Wednesday, 24 June 2009

I can't sleep. I am really mad at someone and I am stewing. Quite frankly I want to give them a piece of my mind and throw crockery at a wall - that kind of thing. Sigh. It's not going to happen, I'm going to rise above it cos I am a grown up. An adult.
Anyhow, because I am hoping to move soon [I'm under offer!!], I've been sorting through my old junk and I found an old diary of mine from when I was about nine. I certainly knew how to deal with people I was mad at back then. The following is a relevant extract:-
J**** J****** is a big fat snob who thinks she rules the school her head is full of water she likes the Osmonds and she is smelly.
So, person I'm mad at, YOUR HEAD IS FULL OF WATER AND YOU ARE SMELLY, so there.
I feel better now.

For those of you who would like to continue the Kent bashing thread from the previous comments box, here is a map. [Perhaps we could do Sussex next week?]

For those of you who would just like to listen to a tune that has no connection to the rest of this post, here is a tune:-

So there you go... I will try to get some sleep now. I will wake up in the morning and this will probably be the first post I've ever deleted...
*wanders off to have a fag before engaging in some more gnashing of teeth*

Monday, 22 June 2009

I Am What I Am

I have been busy. Last week I appeared on This Morning [with Fearne and Phil], and I sang with Tony Christie. I then had my lunch interrupted by Dominic Cooper. I wouldn't have minded but I was scoffing on a rather tasty blueberry muffin at the time. I then went to see La Cage Aux Folles at the Playhouse in Northumberland Avenue. Then I had an Italian. It's all go....
[Obviously the hippy thing didn't happen]

Thursday, 18 June 2009


Cathy is not a dentist [she states this quite clearly], she has spent the last 4 months detained at Her Majesty's pleasure in Holloway as she had been caught making films containing scenes of torture and abuse. She is now unemployed but enjoys dressing up as an air hostess. Cathy has toothache and an oral fetish; she has broken into the dental surgery to practice her technique. Mr Davis [the real dentist] is startled to find her in his surgery handling his scarifying tool, but he is impressed by her tonguing action and her willingness to get her teeth into the subject. He has a professional interest in her misshapen mandibles. Unfortunately Cathy gets far too excited, goes a bit wild and starts flashing her Crest. Her obsessive scrapping causes her to slip and knock her front tooth out on the narcosis apparatus. She is crestfallen. Mr Davis ushers her into his black leather chair for a thorough examination. Cathy sighs as she feels him in her mouth - she is in her element, she begins to froth and lets him poke around until he finds and fills her all of her cavities...

Sunday, 14 June 2009

A New Seeker

I have always been a material girl. I like pink and diamante. But recently I've begun to feel that there must be something more to life than gratuitous consumption; something more to life than incontinence pads, chocolate and tampons. It is time, I feel, for me to engage with life on a deeper level. It is time to read the occasional book; grow apple trees; do something with honeybees and have a snow-white turtle dove. It is time to throw out my Born Blond highlighting kit and go back to my roots; it is time to wear a pair of crocs and find my inner sole. Indeed, I will be needing a whole new wardrobe of clothes - I'm thinking jangly bangles, a lentil loop headband and a long floaty skirt. I will be a reborn romantic. And I intend to travel. There are places I've never been to, places I've never seen - like the leafy Thames Valley and parts of Manchester. I need to embrace a bit of culture, I need to spread my wings - it is time to go out into the world; it is time to traipse the globe and commute with the dolphins...

[Okay, truth be known I spent an hour writing up a nice little story but then couldn't find the damn ad on Youtube..]

Wednesday, 10 June 2009

The UK Property Market - An In Depth Overview.

Because I am quite stupid I have decided to sell my house. I don't need too. I just want to move to somewhere a little more vibrant. Somewhere there are shops and people under the age of sixty. Somewhere where potato growing isn't the height of entertainment. I've had plenty of viewers, all declaring love for my humble abode. And my bush-craft. Most viewers are renting or are cash buyers so are in a good position to buy, but they are waiting for prices to fall even further. Like vultures. This housing crash isn't the same as the one in the early nineties - when crippling interest rates coupled with high unemployment forced people to sell; the market was flooded with property and therefore supply outstripped demand. In today's market, supply is limited due to low interest rates and paying off a mortgage is easy peasy so long as you haven't overstretched. It seems to me that the property market is skewered; it is a confusing mix of what are known as 'distress' sales and people like me who just want to move. On Monday I received a very silly offer from a viewer I'd shown round my house twice. I am so cross that even if they come back with a sensible offer I will tell them to stick it [they would obviously be trouble throughout the whole sales process]. Possibly I look distressed? Of course I look distressed! The village shop sells Happy Shopper American Tan tights and the local hair salon is awash with blue rinse. Sigh. My other option is to rent my house out... which is probably the route I'm going to take, because if I do this then I will be quids in. And quite frankly the vultures can go hungry.
Anyhow, this is why I have been quiet of late.

Friday, 5 June 2009

Stationary Motion

Apparently the New Ford Kinetic design styling means that the cars look like they are moving even when they're not.
I got stuck behind one for three hours last night...

*Afterthought* Stationary + Motion = Constipation?
My maths is improving.

Tuesday, 2 June 2009

Bloggy Birthday

Crikey, have I really been doing this for a year? I didn't mean to. When I first started I didn't have a clue about the blogging community; I remember being too anxious to leave comments on other blogs because everyone seemed to know each other, but then Mr Bananas left a comment on my blog and this encouraged me to go exploring... and I walked straight into Mrs P... 'Chin up, tits out' I said. I don't think she needed much encouragement to be honest. It's also her first bloggy birthday this week.

Kate was also amongst the first blogs I commented on and she is celebrating her bloggy first birthday next week by publishing her blog as a book - all profits are going to War Child, an organisation which works with children who have been hit hardest by the joint forces of poverty, conflict and social exclusion. I have put a link here and on my sidebar.

It's been a funny old year... I never imagined I'd find myself writing about my bush, or for that matter, incontinence pads... and what have I learnt from all this? I've learnt that there are lots of great people out there and... erm... that I should write in a bigger font cos then it looks like I've written more... Oh... and that it's really good fun taking a pop at L'Oreal...

P.S I might take a little break now, as recently I've found it difficult getting round to read everyone else... I think I might have over expanded my blogrol...

Sunday, 31 May 2009

Skool Report

I've been sorting through some old boxes in the attic and I came across my old school reports. I don't often write about myself, it's much more fun being written about. All you really know about me is that I am not ginger. Anyhow, as it is my bloggy first birthday on June 2nd, I thought I would share with you some snippets from my reports...

English: 'Scarlet works conscientiously and she's reached a high standard. Her written work is sensitive and perceptive. She is well above average and has a flair for this subject. She is a pleasure to teach.' - Mr B [I fancied him]

Geography: 'Scarlet produces good work of an average standard but is sometimes too easily distracted. Her attitude in class is not always good.' - Mr H [Yeah, but I still got an A grade]

Science: 'Scarlet appears to be making up her mind as to whether she will work or play the fool. Such indecision is a waste of time and is the cause of her declining work standards. Much effort must be made as Scarlet's standard is not good. Test result below average.' - Mr S [I didn't fancy him]

Maths: 'A poor effort this term! Scarlet must make every effort to improve her classwork which is lagging behind. She is capable of a higher standard.' - Miss H [Ho Hum]

Music: 'Scarlet is very down to earth and working well with an intelligent approach.' - Mr EJ [He was cute]

Art: 'Scarlet is lacking some confidence in her own ability which she covers up by "teenage giggling", when this phase passes I'm sure she will benefit from the more serious approach which is bound to take place in a girl as perceptive as Scarlet is. She is well capable of heights as yet undreamed of.' - Mrs W [Well, there was this boy in my class who I helped with his life drawing exercises...]

Overall: 'A mixed report. I hope Scarlet will take careful note of the disappointing comments and decide to improve matters herself. She can be very pleasant, though recently she has preferred to be condescending in her attitude. It is to be hoped that she will behave in a more mature manner from now on.' - House Mistress [*Blows raspberry*]

Note from Headmaster: 'I shall want to see Scarlet with all her reports next term.' [We had a pot of tea and a nice chat and became best friends - weird]

Hmmm.... I'm beginning to see a pattern....

Thursday, 28 May 2009

Lost At Sea


Because my mojo is lost at sea I decided to set off on a quest to find it. I travelled far and wide, over hill, down dale, through the shopping mall and left at the traffic lights... and I eventually found myself at Beachy Head. I gazed out to sea, in a kind of thoughtful romantic way that I've seen heroines do in films. I hoped for a flood of inspiration. The wind gusted. The sea crashed on the rocks below [this is a lie, but I'm trying to create a mood - clever eh?], but there was still no sign of my lost mojo. So then I thought: what the heck, it's gone, bugger it, I can do without it, whatever. I found my way down to the shore. I walked along a bit, and there, sunbathing behind a rock, was a nekkid old man. I admired his tan and tried to compose a comment... but then I realised that he was real... and that this was life imitating blogs...

Tuesday, 26 May 2009

What Day Is It?

I am all at sea and I've totally lost my mojo/groove/thingy-wotsit-thingy-me-jig. To help me get it back again I have found these lovely chaps. I can't imagine that they ever loose their grooves, or for that matter, their wotsits.
Oh... I forgot the slip-slap-sloppy-sliver at the weekend, so now I am burnt.

Now I feel better...

Friday, 22 May 2009

Losing My Virginity

Obviously I should have done it in Manchester, where Virgins come three times an hour. But I didn't. It was delayed and I had to wait ages. It was grubby. It was raining. The heating didn't work. And then it broke down and I woke up in the sidings. Another dream shattered.

Tuesday, 19 May 2009

That's Life!

Do you ever feel really bleurghhhhhh? Just lately I've been feeling very bleurghhhhh. I am more vapid than usual and the most interesting thought to cross my mind today was: 'Oh, my eyes look pretty with mascara and eyeliner'. I am dull with ennui. Nothing appears to be raising my spirits; I have not a blink of inspiration. What is to become of me?
Perhaps I need a new challenge? I need something new to feel passionate about. A new raison d'etre. Perhaps I should become an MP? Esther Rantzen is going for it, so why not me? I too am a champion for the consumer, and I too have an unhealthy interest in wonky vegetables. I do have the odd hour to spare and Mr Beastie seems to think it would be a good idea... Okay, so I failed my maths 'O'Level, and I'm not good at confrontation... Jeremy Paxman would wipe the floor with me, but my eyes do look very pretty with mascara and eyeliner so I would look rather good on the cover of Vogue...

P.S Is it me or has blogger gone a bit funny? I keep having problems refreshing my page and my blogrol isn't updating properly... it's me isn't it? It's me that needs refreshing. Sob. Neurotic tantrum imminent...

Sunday, 17 May 2009

The Tarot Readings Begin...

This is the first in a series of eagerly awaited Tarot reading posts. Please remember that these readings are for fun and entertainment purposes only and should not be taken at all seriously because I am not psychic and cannot foresee the future. It is also worth noting that your home is at risk if you do not keep up repayments on a mortgage or other loan secured on it.
Okay, so that's all the legal blurb out the way.


PAST:- Are you a redhead Mr XL? Or do you know a redheaded person who has played an important role in your life? In the past you've been a bit of a dreamer, but you've been restless as well... you've been dissatisfied with things. In a nutshell, you've had tons of brilliant ideas but somehow you've never nurtured your potential, which has left you feeling stifled and oppressed.

PRESENT:- Hmmmm... You've been at odds with yourself in the past, but you are now entering a phase of self knowledge and self understanding, which is about to send you on a new journey [possibly to Australia? Who knows...?] And you are about to embrace life in a way that you have been afraid to do in the past. Something has happened recently to make you see things differently.

FUTURE:- Yep.... The cards are telling you to throw caution to the wind, you've been bogged down with responsibilities for far too long. You are going to go on a wild spree where you will be revitalised by a youthful daring. You're going to strip off and streak through the future like a creature possessed. Buy the new car that you've had your eye on for the last five years; go on that holiday...
But be warned - you may have to give up a few things before you can do this. Possibly your clothes... and all of your money...

Now, while Mr XL ponders on these in-depth and life changing revelations, here is a tune for the rest of us... Cos it's Jukebox Monday as well.

***UPDATE*** I have nicked the Tarot Card test from Kate, so now you can take the test for a free personality reading.

Wednesday, 13 May 2009

Tough, But Gentle Too...

I have often wondered what it would be like to be a mum. According to Persil being a mum involves doing a lot of laundry and not being able to afford pretty hats. Their latest ad features Marion, a single mother of two sons and five daughters. Marion has just been mugged for the last packet of Birds Eye fish fingers and is now lying prostrate down the washing powder aisle in Asda; her whole life is flickering before her like a series of old TV commercials. The five daughters never needed much care, they never got grubby; they were all born with an innate understanding of the extra spin cycle and how to handle excessive foam. It was in their jeans. The daughters were neatly washed and scrubbed and dispensed into the world shortly after their fourteenth birthdays. The two sons, now 45 and 48 respectively, still live at home with their mum. Neither has the ability to set foot outside the house without becoming plastered in mud, mustard, banana, Bacardi, lipstick or baby oil. And, even though both became quantum physicists, neither have ever mastered the art of how to pour Persil. Indeed, the laundry room has always been out of bounds. It is their mother’s secret private place where they must never venture, curiosity has left them scolded. Marion is tough but gentle and knows where, and how, to seek Comfort. Sometimes late at night they hear the rumbling of the much loved washing machine accompanied by their mother’s squeals of delight as she deals with stain after stain after stain, whilst straddling the spin drier.
Regaining consciousness, Marion smiles to herself… to hell with pretty hats.... the rewards of motherhood come thick and fast.

Monday, 11 May 2009

Short Fuse...

AAARRRRGGGGGGGHHHHH! I think this is self explanatory....

Friday, 8 May 2009

Bloomin' Lovely!


I am lovely! Well okay, perhaps not all the time, but occasionally. I know I am lovely because Mr Maps has given me an award saying I am. He is very sweet and lovely himself although he pretends otherwise. Erm... there is one problem though; the award is pink and will clash hideously with everything else on my sidebar. It also looks like it has been knitted by a favourite Auntie... but because I am lovely I will clasp it to my heaving bosom and treasure it anyway... although it may find itself pushed to the bottom of the drawer along with the Fair Isle nightie and matching bikini.
Anyhow, I don't have to do anything to accept this award other than pass it on to 15 more lovely bloggers. Crikey. You are all lovely, but I'm passing this award on to 5 lovelies: Dave; Pat; Mr Beastie; Mr XL and Pete. And as promised to Pat, here is my bluebell pic...

I now have to go to a dark quiet place to study my Tarot cards....

Wednesday, 6 May 2009



I have been asked to reprise my role as Madame Ga Ga at my Auntie Avril's village fete. I was something of an unlikely success last year. Originally I had planned to gaze into a crystal ball but then I got my mitts on a pack of Tarot cards. I'm not really very good. I tell people that my readings are only for fun and entertainment. I cannot predict the future. Even though I emphasise this, and I really do stress that I don't know what I'm talking about, complete strangers still tell me that I'm spot on... and then they tell me intimate details about themselves. Financial woes and bedroom antics. Accidents and mishaps. It's very humbling.
Anyhow, I need to practice; generally I make it up as I go along and use the cards as prompts, I don't even do a proper spread cos this would take too long. I do a simple three card spread: Past, Present, Future... well, I was wondering if anyone would like a cyber-reading? I will sit by candle light and focus on your avatar, perhaps I will stroke it gently or press my nose against it, then I'd get it into my mind's eye and feel your vibe etc [that sort of stuff] and do a reading.
Obviously I wouldn't read your blog from post to post to gain the necessary insight... that would be silly...

Sunday, 3 May 2009

Jukebox Monday [Letter to Mr Beastie]

Dear Mr Beastie,

I've been working as a waitress in a cocktail bar... okay so this bit isn't true, but I am working in a kitchen in a tiny bistro just downwind of the local sewerage works. I've been put in charge of salads; my problem is that chef keeps sending my efforts back to the kitchen and tells me that my salads aren't glamorous enough and that I need to learn to dress properly. Grumble - it's not like I'm wandering around nekkid. Anyhow, I tried jazzing up my salads; I added dollops of salad cream to the lettuce leaves, but apparently this wasn't good enough... so then I had a brainwave; I added hundreds and thousands, some lemon bonbons and a sprig of holly. Chef went ballistic; he started yelling and waving a banana and then he threw my plate of salad at the wall - missing my head by inches. Sigh. I know you have kitchen experience so I wondered if you could help me before I get fired?

I look forward to hearing from you,
Many Thanks
Scarlet Blue

Friday, 1 May 2009

Pot Noodle

Emerson [Bless 'im] has given me The Sexy Blogger Award!

Oh Emerson, how wrong you are! I am not sexy. I am smutty and mucky. But I will accept the award nonetheless. It will look pretty on my sidebar [cos it's red]. Anyhow to accept the award I have to list 5 things that make me smutty [only 5?]. Okay then....

1) I know how to dunk.

2) I like the goo from Cadbury's Creme Eggs.

3) I have a carpet burn on my nose.

4) I know that oranges are best served up with a black bin liner and a length of white cable.

5) And finally, if Mrs P is a culinary four course extravaganza, served in only the best restaurants in town [such as Claridges], then I am a Pot Noodle gobbled up down a back alley - a grubby secret yet instantly gratifying...

I'd like to pass this award on to Eryl because she oozes sex appeal.

Tuesday, 28 April 2009

The Female of The Species

I like cosmetics. Putting on my make-up is something of a soothing ritual. Perhaps it’s because I am a child of the eighties, a time when I created some gorgeous masks for my face. White skin, the reddest lips – almost a Geisha. I also like watching make over shows; Ten Years Younger being one of my favs. It’s the transformations that I love – the big reveal at the end, the gasps and the tears. It’s amazing what an be achieved with a good haircut and a tight wide belt. The other week I watched Coleen Nolan looking into the pros and cons of plastic surgery; she was considering whether she should have some done herself. After looking at all the options available to her she decided against invasive surgery. One thing she did say though, which I related to, was that she couldn’t throw herself into a good argument unless she was wearing a full face of slap. I too will avoid confrontation if my face is naked. I know my eyes will be looking slitty and undefined. I will be aware of a spot on my chin. I will feel like a child instead of a grown woman. I like to look my best if I’m going to have a good row and red lipstick equates with confidence. Simple. For example if my Bank Manager wants to see me regarding the state of my errant finances then I’d like to look well groomed. I’d want to be able to concentrate and smooth his worries away. I won’t want to be sitting on his desk wondering whether my eyebrows need plucking or whether my lashes look stubby. I wouldn’t want him thinking I didn’t invest my money wisely. So, if I’m wearing lip gloss, lash extensions and white lacy knickers then I know that I’m more than likely to get my own way and that I will leave my Bank Manager a happy man. Sigh. Well, they don’t call it war paint for nothing…

Monday, 27 April 2009

A Brief Update

My Mum had to have a cancerous lump removed from her breast on Friday. Luckily the cancer hadn't spread to the lymph gland and for the time being all is well. Many thanks to everybody who stopped by to leave kind words of support on my previous post... even though you probably didn't know what the hell I was blathering on about.
Anyhow, onwards and upwards. Chin up, tits out... and I shall carry on, as always, in the best possible taste...

Tuesday, 21 April 2009

Being Brave

I have never been brave. I've been thinking about it and I've never done anything brave. If I were a character in a disaster movie then I would be soooo over within the first five minutes - I wouldn't be the heroine of the picture despite my obvious good looks.
I passed my driving test with one minor fault, not because of confident bravado, but because I was terrified. I still grip the wheel with grim determination not to hit anything. This, I suppose, is a good thing, but after ten minutes of driving I'm knackered due to intense concentration. Driving to the shops to buy food is still an ordeal. I still can't park properly so sometimes I go hungry.
I'm not really the person you want to be with in a crisis. Not the type of person you want to be stuck in a lift with - I would sob heavily and use up all the air.
I am good at interiors and soft furnishings... and good at painting wooden furniture. I'm good at buying shoes and I know that there are 70 calories in a McVities Digestive biscuit. I know this because I can read labels. I have rescued a few cats in my time. Once I rescued a kitten from a car engine.
Anyhow, this week I have to be brave. Let's hope my driving skills aren't needed. Let's hope that there are cushions to be arranged and plumped and pets to look after...
Hopefully I will be re-opening properly next week and many thanks. In the meantime, here is a tune...

Thursday, 16 April 2009





Tuesday, 14 April 2009

Noblesse Oblige

The lovely and delightful Madame Defarge has given me the Noblesse Oblige Award. I think this is very kind and generous of her. Indeed, I may certainly be obliging, but I don't think I can be described as noble. I suppose that I do usually act in a way that befits my position i.e. I speak the best Estuary English, I am very familiar with North Kent, and on occasion perhaps I'm a bit slutty.
Anyhow, The recipient of this award is recognised for the following:

1) The Blogger manifests exemplary attitude, respecting the nuances that pervades amongst different cultures and beliefs.
2) The Blog contents inspire; strives to encourage and offers solutions.
3) There is a clear purpose at the Blog; one that fosters a better understanding on Social, Political, Economic, the Arts, Culture and Sciences and Beliefs.
4) The Blog is refreshing and creative.
5) The Blogger promotes friendship and positive thinking.

Well, bits of this may apply to me and I have supplied credit crunching tips on this blog, so I guess this covers at least number 3 on the list [but I still feel undeserving]

The Blogger who receives this award will need to perform the following steps:

1) Create a Post with a mention and link to the person who presented the Noblesse Oblige Award.
2) The Award Conditions must be displayed at the Post.
3) Write a short article about what the Blog has thus far achieved – preferably citing one or more older post to support.
4) The Blogger must present the Noblesse Oblige Award in concurrence with the Award conditions.
5) Blogger must display the Award at any location at the Blog.

Erm... What has this blog achieved? Goodness me, what a question! If nothing else it's helped me to make friends with a whole bunch of people I wouldn't have otherwise met and this has really opened up my eyes. There are some brilliant writers and some funny, creative, warm hearted, kindly souls out there and it's been a pleasure to find you all. My mission has always been to be as light hearted, flimsy and irreverent as possible and over the past 11 months I think I may have achieved this! Posts to support this include:-

1) Deodorant Bottles
2) Credit Crunch
3) Scarlet's Credit Crunching Tip of the Day
4) No More Awkward Moves
5) Here Come The Girls

Crikey, I do seem to bang on about adverts a lot. That was a bit of a nostalgia trip.
And now the excruciating hard part, my Awardees...

1) No Good Boyo
It's true, Mr Boyo seldom visits me, and I very nearly have an orgasm when he does because I admire him so much. He gets me flustered; he's really worth reading.

2) Mrs Pouncer
Because I think she invented the term 'Noblesse Oblige'... I might be wrong...
Yep, I know you don't do all the linking stuff Mrs P, but you deserve this award...

3) Kate
Because she is consistantly refreshing. Her posts are always insightful and always make me think about the craft of writing - she's just brilliant at connecting things and making sense [unlike me].

4) 5) and 6) I doubt that two of these will accept this award but they all deserve it for promoting friendship and goodwill around the blogosphere...

Gorilla Bananas
Mr Coppens

That's me done then...

Saturday, 11 April 2009

Whatever Your Style...

It takes years of learning, a steady pair of hands, and an unflinching demeanour to gain the ancient skills and techniques required for good bush-craft. Here we see Annie Wilkinson with a portfolio of her latest topiary designs and a few of her happy clients. Annie has a natural flair for ornamental balls and geometric squares. She has learnt her trade the hard way and she has reached the top of the tree in her field without the need for an Ikea stepladder. It was an arduous ascent. There were bumps and gashes along the way, nics and serious injury. Her pathway has been hard to clear. First she was tripped up by Sally’s stubble, then she got lost in Lindy’s thicket; she was almost broken by Brenda’s bracken and just very confused by Allie’s travelling wicker. Finally, she slipped and lost her clippers whilst shearing mossy flanks. Indeed, there have been rough patches, and times when she nearly gave up. Thankfully, Annie’s supportive friends rallied round and offered up their scrubby beds so that she could beaver at her craft. She tackled Tina’s teasels; she dealt with Holly’s pricks; she weeded Fanny’s borders and shaped up Moira’s twigs….. [good grief]
Anyhow, Annie has grown restless, there is only so much she can do with sequins, spangles and decorative fringing; she is tired of all this frippery and has decided to turn her attentions to boyfriend Duncan’s natural forest. It is huge and on a mammoth scale. The sap is rising, her fingers are loose, she’s learning the pleasures of whittling with spruce….

Wednesday, 8 April 2009

Getting Ready

There will be no more proper posts from me this week cos it's nearly Easter and I am winding down to do lots of this....

Getting ready to suck eggs...

***UPDATE*** 10th April 2009

For sending BEST WISHES and sloppy kisses.

Monday, 6 April 2009

Touched Up

It’s very sad, but I haven’t been touched up in an age. Unlike L’Oreal ‘spokesmodel’ Linda Evangelista, she’s always being touched up. In the new ad for L’Oreal Wrinkle Decrease she’s looking unlined, expressionless and fab, but I wonder, can she actually move her face?
Myleene Klass bashes out a tune on her old Joanna as she does her bit for Pantene Pro-V - gorgeous glossy hair but her face is white-washed out. In bright contrast, the Dove Pro-age woman is so luminous that that she glows in the dark. And finally there’s the Maybelline model, flawless and poreless, air-whipped and satin perfect… Maybe it’s Maybelline? Maybe it’s CGI?
Anyhow, not to worry, the future’s bright, the future is online...

Friday, 3 April 2009

My First Song

Many thanks to Mr Maps for reminding me of this. On Mother Kelly's Doorstep was the first song my Mum taught me. She was a bit of a fan. It explains so much...

I am just about to have a power cu

Wednesday, 1 April 2009

A Revelation...

The sad truth is that I'm not a blonde-ish bombshell from East Sussex [though I'm still not ginger]. I am instead a Grandmother of 86 and have 4 grandchildren. Sorry if this comes as a shock to many of you. I've had so much fun being Scarlet Blue, I always fancied myself as Marilyn Monroe, please forgive me my indulgence. Anyhow, here is a short video from happier times...

***UPDATE*** Today is April 2nd. To view a teenage Miss Scarlet then please click HERE!!!

Tuesday, 31 March 2009

Feel Stubble Free For Longer

Hair Minimising Deoderent from Dove

Spring is here. The weather is warming up so it is time to de-fuzz and deodorise. Luckily Dove [Unilever] has a new product on the shelves. New Dove hair minimising deodorant to prevent little pricks with stubble. I wonder what they'll dream up next? But this is a Godsend for us girls who don't like to be worried by giant cacti whilst we're sunning ourselves on the beach...
A word of caution on the back of the can though : Do not allow this product to come into contact with painted or varnished surfaces... probably best not to get it mixed up with your hairspray either....

Sunday, 29 March 2009

The Art of Sax

I've been meaning to write about my saxophone for sometime. Encouraged by a friend, I've been learning to play since 2001, at a time when I thought it was far too late for me to start learning. I remember being left alone in a practice room with this huge instrument and not really knowing one end from the other. I felt quite inept, but like with most things, a little practice helps a lot.

Yep, that's right, the art of sax is all about technique; developing a firm embouchure; knowing when to tongue gently and knowing when it's okay to blow hard.
Persons with a large oral cavity and a short tongue find that tip-to-tip tonguing is advantageous. - Larry Teal, The Art of Saxophone Playing.
Swift nimble fingering is also helpful for rapid fluid playing.
Anyhow, I'm still learning, I'm not brilliant, far from it - I've yet to master the mythical circular breathing [I still have to come up for air] and I can only growl by accident, but I do have strong lips....

Thursday, 26 March 2009

For The Man Who Plays To Win

Here we see Ron and Jean. They met four years ago in a post office queue in Chipping Sodbury. It was a long queue, time passed slowly, and inevitably they started chatting about chess. Three stamps, four parcels and a special delivery later, and Jean found herself back at Ron’s flat admiring his pawn collection. Since this first meeting they have become chess buddies, pals, friends even, and now, every Monday evening, they get together to thrash out tactics. Jean fancies Ron something rotten and because of this she has read and absorbed 16 books on chess [including Tarrasch’s Best Games Of Chess by Fred Reinfeld] and has subscribed to British Chess Magazine Monthly. Ron likes Jean; she’s very good at chess. And she knows how to castle.
Jean has been waiting four years for Ron to take advantage of her, and during this time her imagination has wallowed in a series of romantic scenarios, which include: feeding the penguins together at London Zoo; Llama trekking in Devon; taking the camper van to Clacton; a wedding; a honeymoon; a mortgage; children… A RING. Her patience is wearing thin. She leans forward and licks her lips, there is all to play for.
Ron has been waiting fourteen minutes for Jean to take her turn and during this time he is has been wondering if it was wise to take her Knight with his Queen and whether he really needs to keep playing safe with his rook.
It’s Jean’s move, so she goes in for the kill, she starts kissing Ron’s bishop and fingering her king. Ron is beginning to feel feverish as he realises that within two moves Jean could have him in check-mate unless he does something pretty smartish. Oh dear. But Ron is an experienced player; he always plays to win, and he has seen Jean’s tactic deployed many times before; luckily he has garnered a few sneaky moves of his own. For a brief moment he leaves the game so that he can drench himself in Hai Karate, an aftershave designed to repel all kinds of female advancement. The effect is instant; Jean is overpowered by the stench of cheap scent and as she fights for breath she knocks the chessboard into the air, sending the rooks and pawns scattering across the tiled table top. Poor Jean, it was so nearly check-mate, but she has been forced to concede defeat. This time.

Monday, 23 March 2009

Ancient Vermilion Proverbs

Never let the sun go down behind closed curtains.

Heels are good for pulling, but flats are needed for running away when you've had enough.

A problem shared is gossip material.

There's more than one way to peel a fish finger.

Always carry a Toilet Duck.

Two wrongs aren't as bad as three.

It's never over until somebody starts singing... and even this can go on for some time.

A bird in the bush is artistic trimming.