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nothing changes…
i thought that for today, and today only i might add, i would have a break from the random stories to wish everyone a happy valentines. i’ve heard so many of my single friends complain about being single on valentines - but i’m happy for everyone out there that has someone to share it with (even if it is a bit commercial, ba humbug i know).
so guys… 3 things not to buy your girlfriend (avoid these and you can’t go far wrong) - no need to thank me honestly…
- red itchy lace underwear in the wrong size (especially if it’s bigger than she actually is)
- a teddy bear holding a satin heart (wrong in so many ways)
- some scales (these are never good)
so armed with that advice as power - go out and share the love.
peace out 
it’s official. i love the country. i love walking in the country. i don’t however like cow manure. i hate cow manure and i like it even less when it’s in my eye. i never want to live in the country.
the story starts with me totally embarrassing myself by putting my foot down whilst reversing and not paying full attention, to find my self planted in the back of a lady’s car who happened to be standing next to it at the time. i could make a zillion excuses about how it happened, but the truth be known, it was sunny and the first tops down day of the year (in bugsy the beetle) and i was just over-excited. shameful but true.
having given the lady my insurance details and walked away rather red faced, i decided that i needed to clear my head, so put the music on full blast and decided to go for a drive. the drive went well for the whole of 15 minutes at which stage i realised bristol city were playing football at home and i spent the next hour sat in congestion inhaling fumes and becoming ever more infuriated. not assisted by every tenth person walking past totally drunk at 2pm (yes 2pm people) and attempting to get in my car with me.
things went from bad to worse when still sat in traffic, unable to move, i see a tractor pulling cow manure along the road. as if in slow motion, a clump of the manure dislodged itself from the truck and hurtled it’s way towards me. spinning and squelching it’s way through the air, it finally landed in my right eye. no i’m not joking. i’m really not joking and my scream (had you heard it) would definitely have shown you that i wasn’t joking.
in shock, i peer through my left eye, to see whether i could catch the number plate of the tractor (surely it can’t be legal to have vehicles like that on the road - it must be a health hazard) - instead all that i could see was the chap behind with tears rolling down his face as he took great delight in my misfortune. if i could have hurt him right then, i would have. harsh, yes, but true.
having wiped the poop from my eye with my right hand, i then had to drive all of the way home using one hand to steer and change gears - i think it could be time to get myself a sensible, non-poop attracting car!
you’ll be pleased to hear though that my housemates showed great sympathy to me (or at least until i left the room at which point there was a huge thud where they had fallen to the floor with laughter). charming. i might have to go shopping to get over the trauma.
someone, please rescue me, i think i need to get out some more….
on a side note, i revisited my things i want to do before i’m 30 page and i had better hurry up! update to follow…
happy weekend smilers!
i should start with the disclaimer that i love my cats, i really do and no harm was done to any animals in the making of this blog post. however, this little princess is going to be sent out to work - i’m not quite sure how she’ll earn her pennies, but i’m giving it some thought…
the story goes that 2 weeks ago i moved in with two of my best friends - one of which loves cats, the other not so much. all was going swimmingly well with the exception of squeaky. you see, it turns out my friend had bought with her an old bed which went by the name of squeaky and i can confirm it wasn’t given that name for no reason. after a few days, we had to sit down with her and break the news that squeaky was going to have to go if harmony was to remain in the house.
she took the news very well and arranged for a new bed to be delivered the next weekend. it was a beautiful bed and she was so proud of it that she bought new bedding as a welcoming present (yes, i know it’s a bed…. bear with me!).
now smudgie being the little clever princess that she is managed to open the door to her bedroom and took rather a shine to the new sheets. so much so that she clawed many of the threads, to be able to take with her to make her own bed before peeing. now sorry to be gross but it wasn’t a little tinkle that we’re talking about here…. think camel!!
you can imagine my delight to wake up on sunday with the mother of all hangovers to find that within 24 hours of having her bed, my housemate’s mattress, bedding and duvet were ruined. the remainder of the day was spent scrubbing and buying new items (and many flowers) to make it up to her.
smudgie is still alive, although i’m still trying to explain that’s not the way to make friends and influence people (especially when they don’t like you that much in the beginning).
word out. peace to your mother. it’s another random day. that is all.
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