Wednesday, 28 March 2012


My shoulder is still playing me up and I can't be arsed to spend half a day waiting in Radiology for an x-ray, so will stick with known and tried cure.  But I know myself that it is wear and tear and there is not much you can do about that.  Except up your intake of olive oil and butter.  And if anyone points out the error in your ways while you are tucking into your bacon, egg, sausage and blackpudding, you can always tell them that your bones are creaking.  If you say it with conviction, most people will believe anything. 

Of course Bree will kill me for the above, lol, but if you reading, you will be pleased to know that I have for my supper a posh (not out of a tin) tub of the Co-op's own root vegetable and lentil soup combined with a big hunk of their freshly baked (this morning) wholemeal bread, on sale for 30p.  Your healthy eating wise words do register, even if it be subliminaly telling us tales of your lovely pots of stew on the go.  Sadly, also reduced were twin tubs of tiramisu and those darned £1 bags of Maltesers!  I am scared to ask if they are made for sharing.  If they stop making them, I'll stop buying them.  Please refer to Ps.

I am sort of resigned to the whole wear and tear thingy.  I am saddened, though some will be relieved, that my dancing skills are now very much restricted, though I could perhaps manage a jig, qirh my arms unmoving by my sides.  Sadly, I fear the arthritis in me knee, might put paid to that.  Will now have to rethink that whole dancing the rumba on ice with Brian Cox fantasy.  He would be worth breaking a few bones or getting a hip replacement for. 

I digress, the whole ugly board wars of old, reared its ugly head this week. All this, he said, she said shite that I learned to tune out of my brain, many moons ago.  I remember the politics, rather than the personalities, though certain personalities shouted the loudest.  I have no problem with the hate, it comes with the blog, and to be honest, I am quite flattered that I still have the power to incense people.  How boring it would be, if we all agreed. 

I deeply object however to those who would stifle free speech.  On the YGL, we soon learned that the ignore button mean't diddly squat, unless you were one of those saddoe's who spent hours wearing out your report button on your keyboard.  That's what I miss about it and the instancy (sp) of it.  I also miss that inside look into human nature, especially human nature at it very worst.

It was kind of like a Eureka moment, it has eventually dawned on my that there really are bad, bad, people out there.  More of which to follow. You will have to bear with the  me, me, me, moments here, but when I went into higher education I went through that whole 'Educating Rita' transformation, when I hit a watershed.  Realised that all men are bastards.  and I was no longer going to poke me own eye out with mascara at 7,00am to impress someone at a petrol garage, because they are always polite to you when you are ordering a large cappuccino and heading towards the hot patisseries.  Other times they would look all timid and ask if 'Madam' was aware that smoke was emanating fom her engine and would I like to hurry along.  Anything to get rid of you.

Will continue on a Part II, because I do want to get back to the board wars.....

Ps.  Note to manufacturers of maltesers, the above was an idle threat and in no way mean't to be taken seriously, those little bags were gone in a mouthful - I do not jest.  It can be done. 

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