wordworld

Things perhaps that we shouldn't naturally admit to, or even enjoy, but age mellows or indeed whithers the brain cells:

In no particular order:

1. Listening to Terry Wogan on Radio 2. Years ago I thought this man was a blathering idiot. Perhaps now I'm the blathering idiot!

2. Buying the Grazia magazine every week without fail. I would have scorned this lite, bite of weekly s'leb shite, an OK or Hello by any other name, but frankly why worry. I know I'm far more poltically informed than the majority of the politicians that are running the country. Running used in the loosest possible term.

3. Catching up on the Blog gossip by reading "The Buzz". What has happend to that? Where has it gone?

4. Eating a packet of wine gums or confectionary in bed every night and pushing the discarded wrappers to Lord Eggbod's side of the bed. That's if I'm feeling kind. Normally I put any litter in his shoes!!!

5. Winning on ebay with a devious strategy which normally involves being alerted by text if I'm outbid and then waiting until the last couple of minutes to place an outrageously high counter bid. I thought ebay was another here-one-minute-gone-the-next gimmick like, say, Google, Facebook or YouTube!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! How wrong was I? Ebay is the best fun you can have when you're awake, alone at 4am sharing the solitude with an E-coli encrusted keyboard.

6. Sunday's More4 glut-fest which is Come Dine With Me!!! I shout at the telly when the rude/snobby/mean person wins the contest. I used to have high standards and spurn all reality flavoured television but Come Dine is just too entertaining. I still however draw the no-go line at Strictly Come Wanking and Shriek-factor!

7. Discovering I actually like Will Young and, furthermore, discovering I am actually wondering when he is bringing out a new album!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I can't really think of an explanation to this one.

8. Walking around in the nudgers when I have just come in from a run. This one is not for the faint-hearted. But faint heart never saw old lady. Besides it's always when I'm alone in the house..........And I've just peeled off my sweaty running kit and thrown it in the washing machine. Well that's what I told the police at the time.

There is a copious amount of dire drivel on the telly regarding putting your old
jewel-ellery in an jiffy bag and posting it to somewhere - "Cash for Gold" scheme, I believe. Apparently we all have gold bullion stashed behind the bath panel and unwanted gold tiaras under the stairs where the spare bog rolls live. I keep all my unwanted gold jewel-ellery (that's how one annoying advert actress pronounces it) in those secret soup tins. Them that look like a tin of Heinz tomato soup but it's actually a tin of Heinz chicken soup. Just to fool the burglars!! It's amazing. It even tastes like tomato soup!

You see somebody told me that Gordon Drown(ing, and sinking, definitely NOT waving) has sold off all our gold reserves. So I guess the best way to dupe the public once again is to fool them into posting all their gold jewel-ellery back to the government to melt down into gold bars. Then they have the equity they need to print more monopoly money or in government speak "quantitive easing". But don't hold your breath regarding the Cash for Gold scheme. The cheque's in the post! It's not worth the paper it's printed on and the Royal Mail will be out on strike again shortly no doubt.

Contrary to popular belief, man was not invented by Simon Cowell, or a by-product of his high-waisted, controversial, trouser frontage, but evolved from an office in Africa before the invention of X-factor.......

Is this.

"What it is" is a particular favourite phrase of mine. I would consider it to be the second half of "It is........what it is". Said perhaps with a casual take it, or shove it your arse attitude, which I find appealing. Sarcastic yes but fitting when used in collaboration with my lovable yet irascible, spleen spewer, Dylan Moran.

His vague and rambling demeanor on stage hides a razor-shave, cut-throat wit.

His quotes: On Berlusconi: "He's so crooked, he sleeps on a spiral staircase. And when he smiles, he gives an Angel gonorrhea" are a but a mere morsel of his excellent stand-up at the Apollo Theatre in Shaftesbury Avenue last night. His vitriolic expostulations on society are simply wonderful. "Man is the only species that the planet is still trying to reject" rings true and some wonderful theories on finding yourself on camera, alone in the back of the a taxi, possibly juggling excrement, are memorable. And if you can pause there for one minute and allow yourself that graphic image upload, it jolly well should be memorable.

Pity I'm too old now to recall further but it's never as funny when somebody tells you a second-hand tale. Besides, my timing is shite and I haven't had a drink yet.

Like the man himself said, on youth, when a member of the audience said he was 19; he's plucked nostril hairs older than that!

And sadly so have I

I need some helpful advice bloggers

Whilst idly chatting with BDA (dirty bitch ) I have thought of a possible use for my redundant knitting skills.

Does the panel think that these colourful bobble strips would make effective speedo modesty panels?

A sort of modesty curtain that pins infront of those tight nylon speedos. No debate is too big nor too small for consideration.

Yes, some people may think I have too much time on my hands and I shan't disagree.....