Cushion biting moments of utter cringeworthy-ness today include:

Boarding the low slung, turquoise, Arriva bus belching diesel fumes whilst jive-ass talking on your mobile phone.

Fiddling for your bus-pass and juggling your Netto carrier whilst jive-ass talking on your mobile phone.

Lurching down the aisle as the bus jolts forwards whilst jive-ass talking on your mobile phone

Jockeying for a seat and dropping the contents of you Netto carrier whilst jive-ass talking on your mobile phone.

Mobiles and buses = "does not compute"(r) by Prints/Prince

DIDICOI, ALSO DIDDICOY - Romany word of respect for male of older generation. Suspiciously Wirral(alien) in origin

A handful of bloggers (less than five hopefully) may have noticed a certain prolific blogger's absence today. Who? Well nevermind that now - Judddy (with three ds) or something. He would like the blogging public to think he is currently wrestling with a troublesome computer unable to fulfil his role of number ONE wazzzock (with three zeds) in blog world. This is categorically untrue

The Juzzzies (with three zeds) have been spotted holidaying at the back of Arrowe Park hospital. Mr Juzzzy, pulling his caravan, was caught glowering at the back of Mrs J's holiday bonnet. Mrs J (formerly known as Fred Flinstone) looked particularly winsome with a whopping great gap where her two front teeth should have been. Neither realised they had been spotted by Bilge magazine.

(Overhead) Juzzzy: I need to pull over my love, those pots and pans are making a hell of a racket, swinging from the dado rails like that.

Mrs Juzzzy: (Snarling) Pull over! Not a chance. You promised me a holiday in Benidorm. You promised me a Waitrose meat pie. You promised me two pints for the price of one in the Green Man you parsimonious puck! (The lack of the two front teeth causing pronunciation difficulties) Call yourself a didicoi? A diddy-boy between-the-sheets more likely!

A black satin clad frame swaying above vertiginous sequinned t-bar platties. A subliminal voice with a vocal range higher than the noonday sun. I had the pleasure of attending Alison Goldfrapp in concert at the Albert Hall last night. So I thought I'd post a blog in her honour. She is all angelically demented blonde curls framing a pierrot painted face vaguely reminiscent of Magenta from the Rocky Horror Picture Show.

And then she sang..................her voice is ethereal, uplifting, and sado-masochistically sexy with a delicate dusting of Johnson's baby powder. A sub-dom, sighing siren with a whiplash in the chords.

She was exciting and exhilarating on stage

Oh yes and before I forget, Discobod and I shared a wave. We had attempted to meet up twice in the many intervals but he was seated in the rafters and I was in the bear pit. We settled on a wave. So Albert met Goldfrapp but Eggbod never quite met Discobod.

Slippers. Sorry? Who wears them today? Would you proclaim in a public place that you own a pair? Would you, at a bus stop, admit to buying a pair from Tesco? Slippers are on a slippery slope. Anna Wintour, aka nuclear winter-zip-up bootie slipper has put hers to bed. Slippers have done a Gloria Gaynor and walked out the door. They have not survived.

Apparently not so on the Wirral. They hold slipper exchange parties. New slippers for old. It doesn't really matter because nobody knows just where the Wirral is (next-door to the isle of Mann). But what does matter is that today in a world of consumer greed (no I don't own an iPod even if I said I did) and bungs, and Lordy Levy looking like Lionel Blair at a tapdancers tea party, pensioners are walking that extra Green Man/Mile to exchange a pair of shoddy slippers for new ones.

Slippers are bought and sold with wild abandon. The continence constabulary was in attendance and also I believe Wirral's fire brigade.....oh and the visual impairment service. You can read this in braille on ......... deaf as a bat and blind as a post dot com.

I read with much interest and amusement that lavatory seats in Australia are under considerable strain as the Australians get fatter.

Apparently lavvie seats are currently tested to take the seated weight of 99 pounds or 45 kilos called a "rigidity test". But as the Australians join the rest of the western world in the "bigger platter/getting fatter" club this is no longer a sufficient bench mark or bum park.

A special committee now has the odiferous task of investigating whether bog standards, outback, are flush.

I've just been stannahed! It's that incredulously and excruciatingly painful process of waiting a really long time to reach an absent-minded conclusion. Accompanied by an irksome, drawn out whirring noise, that serves no other purpose than severe nuisance value (and distracts you from the "now what did I come up here for?")

Or choose a companion stairlift if you would like to share this experience

The M1 has never been a particularly scenic motorway. Sad, decrepit, pockmarked and littered with bollards - and that's just the services.

Ho-hum another dull, wet day on a dull, wet motorway. Until I passed the Watford Gap services.

AND BOY IS THIS SERVICE

This by-hand, boy band, car wash facility has been exceedingly popular that the Watford Gap 4 are now playing at a series of motorway services near you.

Speed early to avoid disappointment!

SUFFERIN' SUCCOTASH & SQUASHED FROGS

Mouth like the bottom of a birdcage today - covered in grit!