Educating Buddha

Educating Buddha

“You should try yoga”, they said. “It’ll be fun”, they said.

I arrived with much anticipation to become acquainted with the other participants of this ancient Indian practice. My mind recalled images of monks meditating at Varanasi and the Ganges in bright and colourful robes, adorned with flowers around their necks, whilst the distant sound of Tuk Tuk’s can be heard in the nearby city, delivering spices and tea to the shanty towns and street sellers. The smell of said spices, ruminating into the atmosphere, strengthened by the heat of the North Indian climate.

I was brought back to earth when I was met in the local Sport Centre by our spiritual guide….”Swami Linda”.

Was it fun? You could definitely say it was relaxing and fairly achievable on the cardio scale..once you have gotten past the smell of 75 year old camembert and an eyeful of the obligatory ‘Fat Bird’s uniform’, (leggings and a wavy top).

I had dressed myself in the only clothes that I deemed suitable for clambering around on the floor with the ‘blue rinse brigade’ , who would soon begin eying up the fresh meat….and predictably the only man in the class. (Awkward)

 

As I grabbed a mat, my phone vibrated and the flirting grannies soon focussed their attention to my misdemeanour, tutting away like a bunch of bingo regulars after the announcement of a ‘false call’. Before being lynched, I turned my phone off and awaited the instructions of the lesbian vegan bookshop owner – come yoga instructor for our 1st ‘pose’.

‘Breathe in” ,she said.

“Put your left leg under your right arm….”

“Put your foot on your elbow…”

“Put your little toe in your ear”

Struggling to keep up with Doris and Betty, I was turning blue…I hadn’t been told to breathe out yet and I didn’t want to get it wrong. Also It was a good job I had learned to fart silently because apart from the sound of the whale mating call on the ghetto-blaster and the odd groan from Sylvia, it was deathly quiet, and with some of the positions i was getting into, it was inevitable that any trapped air would need an escape route. In the eerie silence I had to have a good glance round every now and then to make sure there were still 18 people breathing.

As I turned to my left, I was met with Mary’s foot fungus. Clearly she hasn’t seen her feet in a few years, but you could have garnished an entire vat of spaghetti bolognese with the parmesan coming off her trotters.

On my right (I daren’t look), Joyce’s leggings were extremely fitting, and as much as she did her best to camouflage an earlier prolapse with her green oversized tabard, it wasn’t working, and it looked like she was smuggling jammy dodgers.

“Right….get into the plank position!!’, shouted Swami Linda.

Am I supposed to know this?  I think I’ll just copy Doris.

“Assume the Tree position!” – Yep, that is fairly self explanatory.

“Downward Dog!”…ok Im definitely familiar with this one, albeit self taught!

I spent a good 40 minutes getting myself into fairly awkward positions and then a further 20 minutes meditating, well in my case, having a kip. As the class ended , I made a hasty exit while the W.I continued their mother’s meeting in the cafe.

Will I be going again?   HELL YES!

Namaste

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Gay Man Code

Gay Man Code

This year celebrates 50 years since the partial decriminalisation of homosexuality in the UK. Since 1967, the UK has led the way with equality, however there are some ground rules.

To be a proper ‘Friend of Dorothy’ , please observe the following code at all times:

  1. You will forever refer to Deirdre Barlow as ‘Deirdre Rachid’.
  2. ‘I am what I am’ is your national anthem…and you lip sync with pride at the dramatic and timely key change.
  3. You will have Cher’s back until the grave.

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4. You will spontaneously find the urge to stop everything and say …………

“Im Liesl, Im 16 years old and I don’t need a Governess”

5. The quotes of your life are provided by Linda La Hughes and RuPaul.

6. You sent a tweet to check Madonna was ok after her horrific demise at the Brit Awards.

7. When someone tells you, you’re not their mother, you hastily respond…’ YESSS III AAMMMMMM!’

8. You chuckle when someone asks if you are a giver or a taker and reply….”It’s top and bottom darling.”

9. You know all the words to ‘I dreamed a dream’ from Les Miserables.

10. When you want a wall knocking down, you just get a lesbian to lean against it.

11. Getting on a bus is almost as unforgivable as shopping in Matalan.

12. You will travel  to Mecca, Gran Canaria at least once in your lifetime.

13. Your kitchen is filled with chrome.

14. You refer to Bet Lynch as a fashion icon.

15. You think Ed Sheehan is like poppers…over-rated.

16. You remember how shit ‘Gaydar’ was.

17. You think David Gest was a closet…for marrying Liza with a Z.

18.You think this is the gayest picture ever  …and want to hang it in your living room.

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19. When you shop for clothes..you say the word ‘couture’ at least 100 times an hour

20. You think Donald Trump is a c**t

21. When you leave the supermarket with your man…it is always appropriate to say (in the style of Meryl Streep);  “Do you remember where we parked the car?”

22. When deciding your favourite X Factor judge..it is only EVER between Nicole Scherzinger and Dannii Minogue.

23. Your favourite film is ‘Beautiful Thing’.

24. You can’t watch Beaches or Steel Magnolias without scrying (sing -crying)

25. You sky plus ‘Long Lost Families’ so that you can have a good sob.

26. As much as you love Holly Willoughby, you resent her for stealing Cilla’s spot on ‘Surprise Surprise’.

27. You instantly recognised when Pat Butcher wore the same earrings twice.

28. ‘Steptacular’  is the soundtrack to your life.

29. You signed the petition to kill Fenner off in Bad Girls, after what he did to Yvonne Atkins.

30.. You do not, and have never owned a pair of crocs.

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Call The Village Band Out……

Diannehenry

……Matt writes a post

I haven’t graced your news feeds for a few weeks. I have been on secondment to MI5 in an effort to eradicate the sale of leggings from the British public and banish the camel toe forever.

If only…

Truth is, work has been bat-shit crazy, leaving only sufficient time in my schedule to consume large Gin and Tonics and fall asleep to Rylan’s dulcet tones as he interrogates another Big Brother evictee. Recently I have also embarked on a healthy regime… well the idea of one at least. I’ll start again tomorrow. Today I thought I would take a little look over the last few weeks and recap on my ‘mardis gras’ exciting social life…this will be a short post.

  1. Starstruck on a work do

The annual Senior leadership gathering began with a large gin and tonic in a swanky hotel in Hampshire. As I delivered my Louis Vuitton overnight bag to the bell-boy ( Primark £12.99), I spotted a new guy in a crisp suit and shiny shoes, that looked really familiar.  One of those popular guys that everyone wants to talk to, he swanned through as the girls swooned.

I know him…I insisted. Despite everybody calling him Bradley Cooper, I knew I had seen him before.

After the conference and before dinner, one of my colleagues informed me that the ‘Bradley Cooper’ lookalike, was in fact a retired actor.

“Do you know the film Beautiful Thing?” she asked

“Of course”, I said…as the penny finally dropped. It is only the gayest film of all time…an institution in fact.

“Well he played Jamie”

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!

Now this will mean absolutely nothing to anyone other than gay men..age range 25-40, but this was big news. I WORK WITH JAMIE FROM BEAUTIFUL THING   (Glen Berry)…..RANDOM!

 

2) The British Grand Prix

I was lucky enough to win tickets to the Grand Prix in Silverstone. I must admit that I am not the biggest formula one fan, but Im adaptable and I love anything that involves cheering on a Brit, practising my curtsey and singing ‘God Save the Queen’. I arrived in style after borrowing an F-Type Jaguar for the weekend and like the mild mannered Jessie that I am…I made a picnic.

It was a fantastic today and as well as watching the race, we were treated to Rick Parfitt Junior (If you don’t mind), and a chance to gawp at the interesting sights that is the Great British ‘unwashed’.  We sat down on our traditional picnic blankets, cracked open the prosecco surrounded by rowdy Irish men…of the travelling variety when I spotted her.

Yes….Yvonne Atkins back from the dead ready to shoot a reprieve of ‘Bad Girls’  Its 2017, I thought and I am sat behind a women with a mullet….yes a mullet!  God help me.

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3) Musical Trip down Memory Lane

Last week, a friend tagged me into a Facebook post. She had found an old CD from the DJ of Spritzers, our local gay bar from 1998. As I gasped and wowed at the musical profferings, it sparked me to recreate this CD (and some) into it’s 2017 form…an iTunes playlist. If you are in your mid to late thirties, this one may be for you.

Spritzers Playlist

4)Spinning

As I write this, I am recovering from my 1st attempt at a healthy regime. This morning I joined the sadomasochistic elite of morons that do spinning…..what the actual fuck! I have just endured 45 minutes of pure hell with no escape. I chose the bike, furthest away from the door…so even If I wanted to slip away, I would have had to clamber over 40 other sweaty bloaters all pedalling away to a high energy version of a Whitney Houston classic. I came out of the room, headed for the shower and promptly fell to my knees as I contemplated the nigh on impossible task of removing my damp clothes.

 

Time to book another holiday!  What have you been up to this summer?

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Summer Fails

Over the last few days Britain has had a period of ‘tropical weather’, which is heading for the hottest June in the UK in 20 years! Undoubtably, despite the endless Facebook updates from ‘Wincy Willis wannabes’ explaining how hot it is….and how they can’t sleep..blah blah, it is the best time of the year!

Not just because those of us without ‘ginger skin’ can get out and have a go at a sun tan, and dine ‘al fresco’, but the overdose of vitamin D is good for your physical and mental health. Evidently the same people moaning about the hot weather are the same people whinging that it is too cold in January.

That said, I do have some complaints about some of the things I see during our ‘5 day UK Summer’Firstly the traditional ‘Fat Bird’s uniform‘  is replaced by a pshycodelic maxi- dress, and open sandals showing off a lot more leg and hoof than I’d like to see. As these units pile into Sainsbury’s to stock up on Cornetto’s and party food, the rest of the general public are subjected to a impromptu glimpse of their ‘thighgina’

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   Thighgina anyone?

  • Talking of shops…Summer happens every year (to a fashion), so why do all the drinks, ice creams and all things seasonal run out of stock? Its like every supermarket manager is taken by surprise every year that they might sell more cold drinks.  All the shops are busier…where have all these people been for the rest of the year? It’s like the job centre have handed out food vouchers!
  • Having put a bit of weight on myself, I now have first hand experience of chafing!  Thigh Chafe, Belly overhang chafe, sideboob chafe. Wearing a suit to work should be outlawed immediately, nobody should be getting through the amount of sudocream than I am using to soothe the sores caused by my clammy existence.
  • Melted Chocolate!…another schoolboy ‘shop’ error… why is the chocolate always near the window?
  • People out running when it get’s past 25 degrees is not a good look. Do these people not realise that ‘everything becomes visible in their spandex when they are parading like a hot mess of arse sweat and frizz?
  • Intimate shaving is a definite downside of summer, as the weather becomes ‘vest top-worthy’ there is that unenviable task of hacking away at the winter growth whilst trying to avoid the inevitable ‘ingrowing hair’.

Here are just a few things that I dislike about summer, but it still remains my favourite time of year and if it could be summer all year round, that would suit me just fine.

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Scummy Mummy Does Mexico

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As holidays go, I am all up for experiencing new cultures and meeting new people, but If there were a ‘class’ system for holiday makers, then the vile creature we met on our pacific getaway would definitely be ‘steerage’. This Scummy Mummy was of the ‘ Jeremy Kyle Show’ ilk, donning her best Primark leggings and serving ‘Polyester Kaftan realness.’

We were introduced to her at Gatwick North terminal, when she declared to the entire folk at Gate 27, when the softly spoken gentleman at the lecturn politely invited all passengers requiring special assistance to come forward;

“My daughter has autism!, My daughter has autism!”

To which the gentleman swiftly replied “Can she walk unaided?”

“Yes”, said the scummy mummy, who was then met with the response;

“Then she doesn’t require special assistance….now sit down!”

I have full admiration for those that care for people who are a little less fortunate and have problems with everyday life, however I don’t imagine even her daughter would want the embarrassment of her mother declaring her diagnosis to the 300 people waiting to board the Dreamliner.

I had nothing to declare, except the 100ml bottle of Paco Rabanne, purchased moments before in Duty Free, but unlike Scummy Mummy, I kept that to myself.

Upon being turned away, she then concocted an affliction of arthritis in her left knee, rendering her suitable for speedy boarding. Bitch please….I have rheumatoid arthritis affecting my entire body but I have waited my turn like everybody else. The only visible affliction she suffered,was loving food that little bit more than she loves Pilates. Nevertheless, she boarded the plane and disappeared from our lives… until we got to Puerto Vallarta

“Coach number 1!” the nice TUI rep pointed out!

We grabbed ourselves a drink and made haste to the comfort of the fully air-conditioned bus to cool down our sweaty bits after being pelted by 35 degree heat, dressed in our full superdry travel clobber courtesy of our North Terminal spend up!

As the bus filled, I spotted Scummy Mummy loitering, daughter in tow, who now, through no fault of her own and without formal introduction was known as ‘The girl with Asperger’s”. A total shame that, although we discovered her name some time later….she was defined primarily by her disability…owing to her mother’s shameful attempt to get one over the ground staff at Gatwick.

“Oh no….shes getting on our bus”, I observed.

In her crumpled polyester and newly painted nails (the Mexican flag…..natch), she sat two rows in front…..great!  When the TUI rep boarded the coach and handed out our welcome packs, and  our invite to the respective ‘Welcome Meetings’, there commenced the ‘Been here, done it all before’ performance.  You know what I mean right?….that annoying person who has been to the same place many times before and decides to make it abundantly clear by interrupting and correcting the tour rep, who is busily trying to do his job.

Our 1st stop is the ‘Royal Decameron’….our hotel… What luck? However as soon as he announced this…I heard the Scummy Mummy let out a definitive ‘Yessssssss!’

Oh no!, we thought, how can this be? How can Scummy Mummy be frequenting the same 4 Star, All Inclusive complex as us. Im not one to judge (I am), but she hardly seemed the ‘high- flying business woman’ type. I even considered at the Airport, whether she was at the wrong gate, or whether ‘The Sun’ had extended their £9.50 holidays to include the Caribbean.  This aint Great Yarmouth Yarmuff love!  All I could think was she must be raking in the PIP and Carers allowance payments.

On the coach she had an altercation with the couple sitting behind her, who had kicked the back of her seat.

“I have just had a kid kicking me for 12  f**king hours on a plane, now sit down properly and stop f**king kicking me”,  she shouted. (Unnecessary)

As we got off and checked in and went our separate ways, I was glad that the complex was vast and had 650 rooms, the chances of seeing her again were pretty slim.

Wrong

There she was at the welcome meeting again, enlightening everybody on all the trips and excursions that she has been on every year with ‘Aspergers’.

“Don’t go and see that show…the singers all mime”, and “Don’t use this taxi company, because they try and rip you off”.

At the end of the welcome meeting…co hosted by the illiterate potty mouth, the poor TUI rep took no bookings for any trips, thanks to the intervention from ‘Benefits Britain.’

The Hotel had 8 blocks, with 8 pools and around 10 restaurants and where did they put Scummy Mummy?…..in the same section as us of course, that was until she played the ‘arthritis’ card again and was moved to the ground floor…..every cloud has a silver lining.

We went back to book the trips. The ‘Rhythm of the night’ tour was extremely popular and we heard Scummy Mummy say that she wanted to do that on Monday….so we booked to go on Tuesday. Turns out it was so popular that it was fully booked on Monday so whilst sipping our welcome ‘Margerita’, on the boat, my eyes soon   fixated on the polyester whisperer!

In a desperate attempt to steer clear, the husband and I positioned ourselves on the boat’s bow, like Jack Dawson and Rose Dewitt-Bukater from the film ‘Titanic’.  As we sipped on our drinks and headed for the island, we couldn’t help hear the confessions of the plagued mother who was telling everyone that cared, that her daughter had paid for her trip from some compensation she had received.  Where there’s blame, there’s a claim!

Call me cynical, but I couldn’t help thinking that this was their way of paying for holidays. Scummy Mummy would  douse the floor with cooking oil in Sainsburys, and send her daughter down the aisle to fetch the Doritos and Beef Jerky, who would then unknowingly fall flat on her arse.

Everywhere we turned for two weeks, there they were!  Scummy Mummy exposing her cellulite and fat rolls to the entire beach, causing a mass exodus wherever she parked herself. (Every time her mobile went off…we all thought it was reversing). Poor Megan …yes we finally found out her name… spent the entire holiday in the hotel reception, stealing the high speed wifi (you had to get up really early to buffer before Megan had set up for the day), and playing with the strap on her swimming shorts (small pleasures).

We left them in Mexico, they were there for 3 weeks….must have been some fall.

 

 

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Cockney Rabbit

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Recently I have been asked questions about some of the lingo on my blog, especially from those outside of the UK. So I thought I would prepare a short list of slang for you to use as a ‘jargon-buster’ which may help to decipher some of my colloquialisms.

Rhyming slang is used widely in London, and you need to understand the concept especially if you want to understand Danny Dyer in Eastenders. Basically words that rhyme with the word you want to say are used…and often the word that actually rhymes is removed altogether (unrhyming slang), and you have to work it out!

Here a 20 popular cockney rabbit terms; (Rabbit and pork…talk)

 

1)”She’s a right old three wheeler”  (Three wheel trike – Dyke /Lesbian)

2) “He don’t fancy girls, he’s a Perry” (Perry Como- Homo)

3) “He was hit by a bullet from a Billie” (Billie Piper- Sniper)

4) “If you can’t get home, I’ll give you a Charlie”. (Charlie Pride- Ride)

5) “Im really tired, Im going for a feather” (Feather and Flip -Kip)

6) “Look at that oil rig he’s wearing!”  (Oil Rig-Wig)

7) “Pint of Lager please, I’ve got a right Geoff Hurst on”. (Geoff Hurst- Thirst)

8) “Stop crying and dry your Britney’s”. (Britney Spears -Tears)

9) “You’ve got chocolate all over ya Boat”. (Boat Race -Face)

10) “Im santa’d mate!” (Santa’s Grotto -Blotto/Drunk)

11) “She’s got a nice pair of Bristols.” (Bristol City- Titty)

12) “Blimey, It don’t half pen and ink in here!”(Pen and Ink- Stink)

13) “You heard about George Michael?..he’s brown bread! (Brown Bread- Dead)

14) “Had the Vauxhall Novas knock on my door last night.” ( Vauxhall Novas- Jehovas Witnesses)

15) “There are some right brasses out tonight!” (Brass Flute- Prostitute)

16) “Lend us a Pavarotti!” (Tenor/ Tenner/Ten pound)

17) “Shut that bleeding Roger!” (Roger Moore- Door)

18) “He got kicked in the fruit and nuts.” (Fruit and Nuts- Guts)

19) “Do us a cheesy!” (Cheesy Quaver -favour)

20) “He aint got a job, he’s on the Ashley!” (Ashley Cole- Dole)

 

 

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Don’t be Jel…be Reem!

Holidays!

In a vain attempt to entertain  the children during the Easter Holidays and draw them away from Youtube and Easter eggs for an hour, we decided to take them to Laser Planet.

Laser planet (or Quasar as it was called in my day), conjured up images of a plethora of ‘ADHD infested’ brats with their ‘council’ mums in tow, running around a dark room to hide the fact that they have no teeth….. We weren’t wrong.

With this in mind, we donned our Vivienne Westwood shirts and Christian LaCroix pumps and rocked up in the Landrover. We’d booked ahead and arrived in time to be split into two teams, red and green. There were a mixture of children and adults, ages ranging from 4 to… (how old am I again?).

My husband and I were on the green team, we were the only adults in the green team, so armed with the phaser..we took ‘Benefits Britain’ head on, in a fight to reign supreme.  We deployed a tactical strategy, I would take out Chantelle, the  ‘pasty eating, legging wearing’ bloater and he would covertly destroy ‘Juanita’ ,  the pink velour ‘tracksuit -wearing’  fiend (with one tooth…hence the name).

Chantelle was easy pickings…carrying 6 stone she didn’t want, she wasn’t very agile on her feet and struggled to get round corners without wedging herself against the walls. I did lose her for a few minutes when somebody shouted ‘Gregg!’, she must have thought they said ‘Greggs’ and dive bombed for a sausage roll.

Juanita’s choice of clothing was detrimental to her performance as the pink velour made her look like as psychedelic as an extra in a ‘Frankie goes to Hollywood’ music video. Alas when she stacked it into basecamp, nearly knocking out her last tooth…it was more like ‘Juanita goes to hospital’.

Without breaking into a sweat, we completely annihilated the opposition, taking out a few ankle- biting, kids in the process and the green team won the game. We made haste to the exit, eager to remove the stench from our clothes.

Chantelle was sweating like a blind lesbian at Billingsgate Fish Market, while Juanita gathered her 17 kids together and they sat down to their meal of Turkey Twizzlers and chips.

We walked out without a hair out of place and  they all stared at us as we walked  to Prezzo’s for brunch.

Ciao Bitches!

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Funny British Quotes

The Gay Stepdad-2

There is no greater form of wit than British humour, this post is dedicated to some of the greats who just so happen to have said some quite funny stuff in their time. Only a true Brit will understand the humour in some of these quotes, so if you are reading from outside the UK and don’t understand, feel free to ask questions and I will attempt to explain.

  1. London is the Financial Capital, Wigan is the Pie capital. – Sue Nelson
  2. I don’t speak French, I don’t speak English…I am from Yorkshire. – Geoffrey Boycott
  3. The only possible way there would be an uprising in this country is if they banned Car-Boot sales and caravanning. – Victoria Wood
  4. East Angular- That’s abroad innit? – Jade Goody, Big Brother
  5. Did you hear Fred West’s house is up for sale? What a terrible place that would be to live….Gloucester.- Frank Skinner
  6. The word ‘gay’ in Newcastle means ‘owns a coat’.- Jimmy Carr
  7. People in the North die of ignorance and crisps. –Edwina Currie
  8. Environmentalists tell us every day that an area the size of Wales is destroyed. Why is it never Wales?- Jimmy Carr
  9. Why are  Union Jacks like Margaret Thatcher’s knickers? Because no power on earth can pull them down. – Spike Milligan
  10. He’s as doomed as a virgin on a first date with Rod Stewart. – Owen Newitt, The Vicar of Dibley
  11. I am an optimist, but I’m an optimist who carries a raincoat. – Harold Wilson
  12. How long a minute is depends on which side of the bathroom door you are on.- Bob Monkhouse
  13. They say that ‘sorry’ is the hardest word but they’re wrong. It’s that Welsh name of a railway station’. – Harry Secombe
  14. We had to put a stop to the presentation of Debutantes at Court. Every tart in London was getting in.- The Princess Margaret
  15. God must hate common people, because he made them so common. – Philip Wylie
  16. Builder’s bum is one of Britain’s great institutions. –Frank Douglas
  17. If there’s one thing I can’t stand its snobbism. People who pretend they’re superior make it so much harder for those of us who really are. – Hyacinth Bucket, Keeping Up Appearances
  18. I wouldn’t kidnap a man for sex, but I’m not saying I couldn’t use someone to oil the mower.- Victoria Wood
  19. A woman who does a man’s work is just a lazy cow .- Jo Brand
  20. I could never be a feminist/lesbian as there is nothing more pleasurable than the sight of the bottom of  a washing basket on a washday.- Caroline Aherne
  21. We think they’re marvellous. And besides, if we didn’t have any here, we’d have to go self service.- The Queen Mother on Gays
  22. Most transvestites are just regular guys, who occasionally like to eat, drink and be Mary. – Joe Joseph
  23. I’m a lesbian trapped in a man’s body – A bit like Martina Navratilova. – Eddie Izzard
  24. You can get gay anything now: gay coffee, gay lager- it’s like straight lager, it just goes down much easier.- Graham Norton
  25. Why do girls fake orgasms? – Because they think we care. – Bob Geldoff
  26. Oh you are awful…but I like you. – Dick Emery
  27. The secret of marital happiness is simple: drink in different pubs to your other half.- Jilly Cooper
  28. A kid loses his mum in Tesco’s. The supervisor says, “What’s she like? The kid says “Big dicks and vodka.” – ANON
  29. John McCririck looks like Worzel Gummidge after an incident with a letter bomb. – Victor Lewis-Smith
  30. What about this fog? My pussy’s been gasping all night. – Mrs Slocombe, Are you being served?                             
  31. I can’t stand innuendo, If I see one in a script, I whip it out immediately.- Kenneth Williams
  32. Not ‘what’, ‘who’. Didn’t they learn you no grammar in school? – Hilda Ogden, Coronation StreetIf you like my blog, please get to know me better and visit my social media pages by clicking the links belowFacebook

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‘Hashtag Awks’

it's summer time!

 

We all get those moments of intense anxiety that suddenly appears when you want the earth to open up and swallow you. I thought I would recall some of these memories in my life when I have had to hold my head down in complete awkwardness . I would love to hear your #awks moments too. Please give me a chuckle by leaving them in the comments.

Here are just 4 of mine:

The ‘1st day on the job’ incident

So it’s my first day in my ‘proper’ job, I had been working at Tesco during my A Levels and was now appointed as Checkout Manager in the leafy suburbs of Surrey. I really wanted to make a good impression and opened my crimpoline jacket and polyester slacks (uniform), and ironed my shirt the night before. I arrived nice and early and was told that ‘Cookie’ would introduce me to my team. Cookie was a ‘voluptuous’ creature, the store fund-raiser, union rep and quite simply the ‘self appointed’ matriarch head cashier. Cookie had a sadistic sense of humour and decided to introduce me to Wendy straight away.

“Thats Wendy” , she said , “Wendy always goes on till 24″, don’t upset her on your first day…ignore what the schedule says”.

“Good Morning Wendy, Im Matt, lovely to meet you” I said, “It says here you are down for till 19, but I’ve made an adjustment to put you on your favourite till 24″, I explained.

‘Till 24” she said… “Im not sitting on till 24 all day”, she abruptly informed me.  (Confused now). “I only do break relief, I can’t sit down for too long.”

“Oh why is that then?” I asked inquisitively.. (and I wish I hadn’t)

‘Because I have a really painful vagina!” she exclaimed, and if this wasn’t enough information, she proceeded to tell me that she had suffered a prolapse and was undergoing acupuncture”  …Please stop, I was thinking, but of course I showed empathy and let her continue to  describe how many needles she had stuck in her clacker the night before. I could see Cookie in the background….howling like an injured husky.  I had passed the ‘new boy test’. #awks

 

The ‘Drury Lane’ incident

The work’s social committee organised  a trip to the theatre….’My Fair Lady’, if you don’t mind. We piled onto the coach and arrived at Drury lane and I purchased the obligatory maltesers and a drink to keep me refreshed, while Martine McCutcheon aka Tiffany Mitchell bumbled across the stage warbling to ‘The rain in Spain stays mainly on the plane.’

Earlier that day the Queen Mother had  passed away and so naturally a two minute silence was called before the show began.  As the announcer spoke fondly of the late monarch, someone in the audience shouted out;

“Fucking old c**t , I bet she didn’t have to pay for her hip replacement!”

I shouldn’t have, but I couldn’t help myself…it’s not that I have no respect, it was the pure comic timing of this oik that set me off. I laughed so hard that I managed to spray my diet coke over about 3 rows of people…direct from my mouth, mixed with sizeable chunks of malteser.  I don’t think Dame Martine was very impressed! #awks

 

The Fire Alarm incident

Another promotion, and I was now a Senior Manager, posted to Sunbury upon Thames. I had been in the store less than 2 weeks, and it was my go at being Duty Manager on Sunday.  All was going well, until  in the peak of lunchtime, the Fire Alarm went off. It was then that I realised I didn’t know where the fire alarm panel was to locate the source of the alarm. In a panic, I ran through the customer cafe, to check if the Fire had started in the kitchen. As I ran in between tables, some lovely lady decided to push her chair back. Needless to say I somersaulted over ‘said’ chair and face-planted into another disabled lady’s lap. You could hear a pin-drop and then a rupture of applause from the diners in the cafe as well as the entire line of cashiers on the checkouts, as I picked myself up. I was mortified…but I think the disabled lady quite enjoyed it! #awks

 

The chauffeuring incident.

I accompanied my boss to 2 day meeting with an overnight stay in Manchester,  I did the driving and he fell asleep for the entire trip up the M6. A portly man, with a penchant for buffet, he made haste to the front of the queue on arrival, and made 3 or four trips to refill his plate, before we sat down for the afternoon briefing. Having my boss with me, I was on my best behaviour for the whole two days, being careful not to consume too much alcohol that evening so that I didn’t make a tit of myself …or say something I would later regret. At the end of the conference, I took to the road, me driving again. This time my boss didn’t fall asleep, instead he started going green at the gills. I was commanded to stop at every service station on the way home so the journey became quite lengthy.  Karma had caught up with the fat bastard in the guise of a prawn sandwich, and the greedy git (it’s not him its his glands), had 12 too many of them resulting in food poisoning. However the the distance between Watford Gap  and Northampton services was a longer journey than he anticipated. All of a sudden I heard this loud rumbling noise as he farted. If you think it was bad enough that I had to ignore this and carry in driving, the smell lingered for an unusually long time. When we stopped at Northampton services, he leapt from the car and returned wearing a new pair of trousers.

Yes- my boss had proper shit himself! #awks

 

What are your ‘hashtag awks’ moments? Let me know and I will feature them in Part 2.

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Chubby McSideboob Joins Fat Club

Chubby McSideboob Joins Fat Club

In a last ditched attempt to shed a few pounds before the summer, I have submitted to joining a well known slimming club that meets every Wednesday in my local church hall. ….I only went because I thought there might be free bread and wine left over from Holy Communion.

If any of you have ever watched ‘Little Britain’ with Marjorie Dawes ‘body shaming’ a load of ‘out of work, lard-arsed Heffers, then this pretty much replicates one of those scenes.

To be fair…most of these (mostly) women obviously don’t get out much, and this is very much the highlight of their week. My husband and I ventured down to the grotty hall, that stank of ‘dust’ and old people and chuckled profusely at the profferings of the great ‘unwashed’ of Hemel Hempstead.

We were met by the group leader (hardly slimmer of the year herself) and taken into the Sunday School room where we sat on tiny children’s chairs.  I think this was a ploy to see who would be the first the break one of the chairs and be branded a fatty….we still hadn’t paid at this point.

We went round and introduced  ourselves, heads in shame, as we declared how many pounds  stones we had to lose to reach our target weight.  Half way through the session an African lady walked in…didnt catch her name, but as soon as she realised that curried goat was off limits…she abruptly left…never to be seen again.

After we had signed up, weighed in and received our welcome packs, we joined the rest of the group, bought a ticket for the raffle…(only to find that the prize was a basket of old battered fruit and veg), and sat down for what can only be described as the most boring/funny hour of my life, We had to sit and listen to everyone’s success stories, or excuses why they hadn’t lost any weight …or put weight on.  I had hoped that it didn’t go on too long, I had a Chinese takeaway on order.

Here are some of the characters we were subject to over the next hour:

The Serial Slimmer

This woman looked like Brigitte Nielson on smack…obviously an avid slimmer, who reached her target weight many years beforehand. Everytime  someone mentioned anything about food, she interjected with phrases like; “Have you tried sprinkling Paprika on it”, and ‘Use Muller light instead of cream”.  Seriously love….fuck off. What are you even doing here?…you are 6ft tall and weigh about a stone….go home and eat!

The one with every excuse

‘Well I only lost half a pound this week, because, well, right, I had an operation on my face, and Im taking steroids, and steroids are known to make you gain weight…and I’m retaining water….and I’m on my period…and ..and …and…Its not my fault..I have an overactive thyroid”.   No love…you have an overactive knife and fork…MOVE ALONG!

The One that can’t be bothered

“So Barbara…how much are you going to commit to losing this week?”

“Im going to stay the same, I just can’t seem to lose any weight, I just can’t do it”.   Eerrm…love you just spent £5 to sit down and say that…what are you even doing here? If you don’t want to lose weight then go home …via McDonalds.

Slimmer of the Week

Oh please….she lost 3 pounds…and she could do with losing another 3 stone…and thats just from her ankles.

The comedian

This guy just wanted to turn everything into a joke….another tortured soul that thinks he should be doing stand-up…..but the joke was on him when he weighed in and put on two pounds…he wasn’t expecting that punchline…but we got the joke.

 

We left the group with details of the website and Facebook group…and if sitting for an hour wasn’t bad enough, the conversation continues on social media…with a plethora of people who were unable to make it…but furnished us with pictures of every meal they had eaten that week.   Brigitte Nielsen (aka Delia Smith), had commented on every one…..’just put a bit of vinegar on it’.

Fuck My Life!

We’ll be back next week….purely for the comedy element.

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