Random Thoughts - Week Two

Twice, yes count them, twice this week I’ve discovered I’ve been wearing my knickers on inside out – It must be the first day of Spring! Why do you have a pair of pants? I mean there’s not two of them is there? A pair of melons means you have 2 of the damn things but pants ‘Oh no we’re so clever, we will never be referred to in the singular tense’. I can only assume its something to do with pantaloons and that most people have a pair of legs – but c’mon lets face it the way g-strings are going we’ll be lucky if there’s anything more than cheese wire available soon.

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I’m convinced the person who invented the life jacket, or buoyancy aid as it’s known in technical circles (see I’m up with this techno language…….ooh firewall, html…flange that sort of thing) anyway I’m convinced the lifejacket personage must’ve been a closet raver. C'mon you’re supplying a load of pissed up people with orange jackets that glow in the dark and have a whistle and a light attached to them.
I’m sure if any of us actually read the safety instructions they’d actually turn out to be instructions for doing ‘big fish, little fish, cardboard box’.

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God we have a stupid fire alarm voiceover bint at work…
Pingy pong ‘A fire is being investigated in an adjacent building, please wait for instructions’
'pingy pong ‘a fire has been investigated and no further action need be taken’

No but knock yourself out if you want to have a skive and stand outside in the British drizzle for half an hour. Realising once you're outside and the damn luminescent fire warden harpee won't let you back in the building, that you’ve forgotten to take your coat and yer fags!

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Men and bloody anal sex – you’re all obsessed with it. Guys, honestly leave our arses alone. We spend most of the time doing our best to try and cover them up and deflect any attention away from that area and all you’re interested in, is smacking your groin up against them and you’ve all be warned by the Public transport officials about that before. Give us a break, surely a couple of Edam’s will do?

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I know us women are supposed to be all sisterly and fluffy and pink and all that but it’s a load old bollocks isn’t it? I mean we really are a bunch of conniving evil bitches, especially when it comes to our fellas. We’ll go to great lengths to hunt down exes, porn, gold bullion, anything we can to prove we’re superior and oh so cunting clever.
Do we believe a word you say, do we bollocks. Remember guys we have a built in bullshit detector. Telling Lies, fucking our sister’s or wearing our tights for the last 2 weeks (which might explain why they now reach our armpits) we can tell when you’re lying.

But do we say ‘Darling – I’m really quite upset by this information I’ve recently acquired, could we sit down and discuss it in a rational and sane manner before I club you over the head with this griddle’. Oh no that would be far too easy, we want you to suffer, we need you to feel pain and short of standing on your bollocks in 4 inch heels the only way we are going to get it is by seeking retribution and spending 2 weeks making your lives a misery.

You’ll wonder why you’ve suddenly lost all remote control privileges, why the doors in your house are shaking in their hinges and why you have unexplained ‘sleep’ bruises.
Every tiny little thing you do will be picked apart and made into the biggest row in history. The slightly annoying habit of leaving the toilet seat up will now have been turned into a monumental crime against all humanity with you taking the starring part as Mr S Hussein.

What will have started this wrath warpath, this simple phrase…

‘hmm….what…err what did you say?’

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Sock fluff, don’t get me started on the fuckin stuff, no honestly it’s grounds for divorce, no really my friend did just that, divorced her husband on the grounds of his fuckin sock fluff.
Well ok that’s a bit of a fib - it was the sock fluff and the fact he was fucking another bird but mainly it was the sock fluff.
It wouldn’t have been so bad if he’d taken some of the damn stuff with him to ‘her’ house but oh no the bastard not only buggered off every evening cause he had to ‘work late’ but when he did, he then left behind great whopping mounds of grey sock fluff everywhere.

The final show down between them was like one of those gun scenes from a great western.
She’s stood at one end of the hallway with his entire dvd collection in front of her and is wielding a sledge hammer and he’s at the other end with his still loaded piston and no where to shoot it.

The tension mounts - she narrows her eyes in a cold and calculating stare somewhat similar to Victoria Beckham eyeing up a donut. He assesses just how quickly he can exit the room without the sledgehammer being bounced off the back off his head. Then slowly capturing the very essence of this battle of wills, into shot drifts the tumbleweed of sock fluff. The nail in the coffin, the red flag, the starting whistle which means she can launch into full screaming banshee mode from which no man has ever been known to recover.

He runs for the door, leaping over the cat in true Colin Jackson style as the sledgehammer leaves her hand and travels in an arc across the room, smashing the photo of his mother in the process, all the while the sock fluff tumbleweed of shame is sat quietly in the corner mocking them, knowing that victory is in its grasp. Once again the suck fluff has sucked out the very marrow of a loving relationship and has digested it and spat it out again, such is its hatred of mankind.

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In other news, was back in the Smith again Friday night, much fun had by the girls but no(heckling) suggestions this time (ok there was a underarm lob incident but I think we'll leave it at that). I'm also supposed to be handing in an assignment on Tuesday but the damn tinterweb keeps distracting me, in particular a whole host of comedians on myspace who are cheating their way towards chocolately infamy. Who'd have thought back in January when I was being a miserable fecker that I'd go and get meself one of them social life thingymebob's.

Oh and honest I didn't mean it bout the porn, I was only joshing - please oh few readers that are still out there, please come back and I'll promise to be a good girl.