Saturday, 29 October 2011

As my cheeks hit the deck, I spluttered...

'I've been thrown out of better joints than this.'

The nurse turned to me and said
'Have you had a referral from the NHS?'

'No... but'...

'Hurry up, this morning we are only allowing 3 minute appointments'

'Yes I realise I'm FAR too young to qualify (for a FRIGGING flu jab) ...
however, in view of my rather unusual and not very often seen, stone in my very nubile salivary gland, my doctor thought it prudent to inoculate me!'

'While I'm here please could you lance the boil on my bum?'


Sunday, 23 October 2011

Hold TIGHT... the bitch...

is back.

I've been too busy, idle, poorly, bl err, to blog
(highlight the one you think is most likely)

Sitting across a candle-lit table, the light playing upon my glass of red wine, 
the fat congealing on my plate from the rib of beef, I got to thinking...
Why am I such a super-sloth?
Five minute-wonder merchant,
mediocre seamstress,
Twaddle talker?

I'm having a crisis of confidence,
my crafts are cr*p,
I've started looking my age...
at a dinner party a week ago,this second, (not that I'm counting mind!) a man opposite asked if Hubs was my...
FRIGGING toy-boy!

I just knew I shouldn't have lost that two stone, everything sagged, the lines are etched deep and crisp and evil on my phizog.
I've started wearing a magnetic bracelet (my hips are giving up due to a life of standing cooking in a Royal kitchen for 15 hour days)
What ever you do don't feel sorry for me, because I'm on the advanced course...
Plaintive cries of 'Poor me!' reverate around the Weald of Kent.

I'm starting lip-reading classes - don't even go there!

The only bright spot on the horizon is tomorrow I'm off to see a Prof. about the stone in my chops, and I'm going to use all my powers of persuasion to get him to prescribe Krug, in order for the effervescent bubbles to dissolve my salivary gland stone.
He hangs out next to Level 42, Nat West Tower, a well known champagne watering hole.

Alright, some more cynical readers might think,
'Wouldn't the old bat get the same effect from Alka Seltzer?'


Sunday, 9 October 2011

As I perused the pink paper...

I got to thinking...

why do the wealthy feel so superior to the poor?

Why do the intelligentsia feel themselves a cut over the rest?

Any ideas?