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Warning - Some posts may cause choking, spitting of beverage and /or a severe giggle fit. This advice brought to you by regular reader Louisa.
Showing posts with label October Marathon. Show all posts
Showing posts with label October Marathon. Show all posts

Tuesday, 25 September 2012

Missing: Blogging Mojo!

You know, I wasn't really too worried at first when my Blogging Mojo went walkabout. I mean, it's not like it hasn't happened before. *shifty* But it's been three months - to the day!- since he blew in my ear and massaged my shoulders (for the clueless, my Writing/Blogging Mojo is a combination of Aragorn [the Viggo Mortensen version], Damon Salvatore, Dean Winchester, and Spartacus), and now I really need him to return as soon as possible.

Oi! Mojo! Break time is over!


To be fair, he hasn't been entirely absent. He pops up whenever he can *coughs* and has been very helpful when it came to working on my new chick-litty manuscript.  In fact, he's been particularly helpful when it comes to writing certain scenes (mostly the innuendo-y type scenes, obviously). I'm not finished by a long shot (and neither is he, hopefully), but I'm sure I can rely on him to continue his brand of encouragement.

But he needs to be thoroughly chastised for his neglect with the blog cheer leading. He hasn't waved his pom-poms at me for far too long. So I am cracking my whip and bringing him to attention.

To keep him poised, he needs a little encouragement of his own. Some incentive, you might say. I've tried the usual suspects - chocolate, champagne, feather boas, that sort of thing - but I think he's more in need of mental stimulation. With the October NaBloWriMo just around the corner (or, the October Marathon, as I like to call it), he's going to need more stimulation than ever. What better way to do that than firing some requests his way?

Or, to put it another way, I want to blog and I have no ideas. But that's not nearly as much fun as talking about mojos, feather boas and pom-poms...

Anywho, despite my hit and miss record when it comes to requests, I'm giving it a shot for October, so I need thirty prompts. I realise there's thirty-one days in October, but the last day is traditionally reserved for reminiscing, so thirty is the amount of requests required (wow, a lot of 'r' words in that last sentence).

So... hit me...

Image borrowed from here.

Sunday, 16 October 2011

*embracing the oddness*

Limericks.
Slugs.
Pub lunches.
Fairy tales.
Crazy dream/nightmare.
A nasty post on Brighton or Butlins.
Zombie apocalypse.
Nonions.
Star Wars - Taff style.
Monty Python - Taff style.
The origin of pi.
Plato vs. Aristotle.
Chocolate - good or bad for you?.

The smallest country in the world.
Why are villains so damn sexy?
Creepy Halloween stories/movies that have the same lame plot.
The relativity of time.
Rubber ducks.
Air sex.
Palindromes.
Saucy seaside postcards.
Nude calenders.
Toffee apples.
Dung beetles.

Bicarbonate of Soda.
Spinsters and cats.
Chemical toilets.
Light bulbs.
Flea circuses.
Door stops.

Something you do not wish to even think about, let alone write about.
Something about a commonly held belief or myth that you'd like to take umbrage with.  




Original Image


My list of requests is getting harder and harder to work with, and some of the suggestions are really quite disturbing. I had a quick search on Google images for today's subject, and almost the first picture I saw was the one above. Now, I might have said that some of the suggestions were a bit disturbing, but I have to admit, that might be because my brain thinks a bunch of stuff is odd. 

Anyway,  as soon as I saw this, it reminded me of my old deep fat fryer. And seeing as it is actually a chemical toilet, my immediate reaction was 'ewww'.

I hope that 'link' disturbs you as much as it did me. And on that note, I'll leave you to your odd imaginings...


*runs*

Saturday, 15 October 2011

*is introducing a friend*

Limericks.
Slugs.
Pub lunches.
Fairy tales.
Crazy dream/nightmare.
A nasty post on Brighton or Butlins.
Zombie apocalypse.
Nonions.
Star Wars - Taff style.
Monty Python - Taff style.
The origin of pi.
Plato vs. Aristotle.
Chocolate - good or bad for you?.

The smallest country in the world.
Why are villains so damn sexy?
Creepy Halloween stories/movies that have the same lame plot.
The relativity of time.
Rubber ducks.
Air sex.
Palindromes.
Saucy seaside postcards.
Nude calenders.
Toffee apples.
Dung beetles.

Bicarbonate of Soda.
Spinsters and cats.
Chemical toilets.
Light bulbs.
Flea circuses.
Door stops.

Something you do not wish to even think about, let alone write about.
Something about a commonly held belief or myth that you'd like to take umbrage with.  



Hi, I'd like to introduce myself. My name's Eric Spartan, and I have an unusual job. I hunt zombies. That's right, you didn't misread - I hunt zombies for a living. You might think that having no body might hinder me in this occupation, but you'd be wrong. In fact, not having a body sort of gives me a head start, as it were, for those undead peeps out there don't expect to be battered by the Blue Haired One.


It all started in my old job. I used to work in a place called Spar, and I loved it so much that I even changed my name in honor of it. And, well, you have to admit, Eric Spartan has a nice ring to it, much better than Eric Schmeric.


Anyway, the Spar was a great place to work, with lots of lovely guys and gals to spend my day with. I was based in the kitchen with Princess - Spar's very own Baker Boy - and we had a good giggle most days. The rest of the staff were pretty cool too, but Princess was my main man, youknoworrimean?


One day, as I was helping with the baguettes (it's amazing how technically difficult it is making a prawn salad baguette, you know), we heard screaming. Princess dropped his knife faster than a pro dropping her pants, and I fairly squeaked with terror, but we gathered our wits (and a couple of chicken skewers) and ventured onto the shop floor. Imagine our surprise when we were faced with...


Duh, duh, DUHHHHHHHH!!!!!



Zombies. Lots and lots of zombies. They were everywhere, even in the back-up fridge (though Lord knows how they managed to close the door behind them, it's dodgy at the best of times). Anyway, we could see some of the girls battling bravely against this undead army, but they were outnumbered. Me and Princess had to do something, obviously, and we had to do it fast, or our family of Spartans would be zombified quicker than those pro's pants falling down.


Princess, being the ingenious Baker Boy that he is, jumped over the coffee machine back into the kitchen, and grabbed himself some orange waste bags, and a roll each of 'veg' and 'meat' stickers. Now, I have to admit, I thought he might have lost the plot at this point, but Princess is a man of many ideas and surprised us all.


First, he rounded up the Spartans and covered them all in sticky labels, declaring them as 'veg'. I was still a bit lost, especially when his next move saw him labelling the zombies as 'meat'.


"Stands to reason, dunnit?" said Princess, rolling his eyes. "I mean, have you ever heard of a vegetarian zombie?"


To be fair, I hadn't, so I left him to his ministrations.


"We go after them in pairs, alright?" ordered Princess. "Two veg for every meat."


*coughs*

It seems the plan was to make up a threesome, with the Spartan Veggies going after the Zombie Meaties from two sides, squashing the undead, and then encasing them in an orange bag. I helped by bouncing around the zombies and hitting their heads, knocking them out cold for easier bagging. After tying the bags securely with the empty strips of veg and meat labels, we piled them up outside ready for the council men to pick them up at the end of the day. Sorted.

It was a struggle, and we had to abandon all thoughts of upselling for that day as we just didn't have the time, but we did it. We pulled through, and the Spartans saved the day. Well, we saved Spar at any rate. Unfortunately, there are still zombies out there, infiltrating the world at large. I decided to take up Zombie Hunting full time after that. Princess helps out from time to time, and the Spartans keep me supplied with orange bags and rolls of sticky labels, so it's still a team effort.

So keep an eye out for me, will you, and if you happen to see a blue haired balloon bouncing around in your vicinity, don't burst it, just cheer it on its way. I'm just trying to save the world, that's all.

Because my name is Eric Spartan, and I'm a zombie hunter.


If you want to know Eric, find him on Facebook. Seriously, he's there. Friend him and give him your support. Help Eric save us from the zombies!



Friday, 14 October 2011

*is ducking about*

Limericks.
Slugs.
Pub lunches.
Fairy tales.
Crazy dream/nightmare.
A nasty post on Brighton or Butlins.
Zombie apocalypse.
Nonions.
Star Wars - Taff style.
Monty Python - Taff style.
The origin of pi.
Plato vs. Aristotle.
Chocolate - good or bad for you?.

The smallest country in the world.
Why are villains so damn sexy?
Creepy Halloween stories/movies that have the same lame plot.
The relativity of time.
Rubber ducks.
Air sex.
Palindromes.
Saucy seaside postcards.
Nude calenders.
Toffee apples.
Dung beetles.

Bicarbonate of Soda.
Spinsters and cats.
Chemical toilets.
Light bulbs.
Flea circuses.
Door stops.

Something you do not wish to even think about, let alone write about.
Something about a commonly held belief or myth that you'd like to take umbrage with.  


Elvis Duck






Mr and Mrs Duck








Christmas Ducks






Punky Duck




Scary Ducks




Sexy Duck




What the duck???




For original images, please see link under each picture.

Thursday, 13 October 2011

*thinks customers are a pain up the butt*

Limericks.
Slugs.
Pub lunches.
Fairy tales.
Crazy dream/nightmare.
A nasty post on Brighton or Butlins.
Zombie apocalypse.
Nonions.
Star Wars - Taff style.
Monty Python - Taff style.
The origin of pi.
Plato vs. Aristotle.
Chocolate - good or bad for you?.

The smallest country in the world.
Why are villains so damn sexy?
Creepy Halloween stories/movies that have the same lame plot.
The relativity of time.
Rubber ducks.
Air sex.
Palindromes.
Saucy seaside postcards.
Nude calenders.
Toffee apples.
Dung beetles.

Bicarbonate of Soda.
Spinsters and cats.
Chemical toilets.
Light bulbs.
Flea circuses.
Door stops.

Something you do not wish to even think about, let alone write about.
Something about a commonly held belief or myth that you'd like to take umbrage with.  

Original Image


So I'm going with Jan's "Something about a commonly held belief or myth that you'd like to take umbrage with" suggestion today, because I am just home from work, and it occurred to me that one of the most irritating things about working in retail is the 'customer is always right' policy. Maybe it's not strictly a belief or a myth, but it's widely known, and I definitely want to take umbrage with it. *nods*

OK, I know it's basically just a case of being polite most of the time, and it's always in your best interests to keep your customers happy, but agreeing with everything they say and do (while keeping a smile on your face) is bloody difficult, even on a good day. 

Like the person who wants to know why something is dearer than that other shop down the road, and demanding that we should price match. Or the person who expects you to smile and be nice to them, but who looks down their nose at you and doesn't even bother to say 'thank-you'.

Itdoezmyheadin!!!

Who came up with that, anyway? Some bigwig who obviously never dealt with the public on a daily basis, that's my guess. 

I've worked in retail since leaving school at 16, and even with the couple of years I had off to have my kids, I still have over 16 years of experience with dealing with the public. And I can tell you, they're a nasty bunch. You do get a decent amount of nice people, but on any given day, you are bound to run into a gremlin or two. Honestly, sometimes I wonder if these people have anything better to do other than wind up the people who are giving them a service. There is just no need to take out your grumpiness on the poor people who, at the end of the day, are just earning their (often meagre) living.

Retail, on the whole, is a generally mundane and thankless way to earn your crust. It's usually the same routine day in, day out, and when you add rude customers to the mix, it can really get you down. Especially when the really snooty ones come out with 'Well, the customer is always right'.

Well, let me tell you, Mr Grumpy Customer, the customer is NOT always right. In fact, the customer is often so wrong that they need their heads read. I am not here to pander to your every whim, and I am not here to take crap off you. I will serve you with a smile, and I will help you if I can, but the next time you give me grief, watch your back, because you may think you're right, but I know you're nothing but a grumpy old so-and-so who needs to have a bucket of slime dumped over your head. And one of these days, I will lose my cool and, in the absence of slime ammunition, will at the very least give you a blistering set down so humiliating, that you won't be able to come back ever again without feeling mortified.

So there. *nods*

 


Wednesday, 12 October 2011

*is not dreaming*

Limericks.
Slugs.
Pub lunches.
Fairy tales.
Crazy dream/nightmare.
A nasty post on Brighton or Butlins.
Zombie apocalypse.
Nonions.
Star Wars - Taff style.
Monty Python - Taff style.
The origin of pi.
Plato vs. Aristotle.
Chocolate - good or bad for you?.

The smallest country in the world.
Why are villains so damn sexy?
Creepy Halloween stories/movies that have the same lame plot.
The relativity of time.
Rubber ducks.
Air sex.
Palindromes.
Saucy seaside postcards.
Nude calenders.
Toffee apples.
Dung beetles.

Bicarbonate of Soda.
Spinsters and cats.
Chemical toilets.
Light bulbs.
Flea circuses.
Door stops.

Something you do not wish to even think about, let alone write about.
Something about a commonly held belief or myth that you'd like to take umbrage with. 


Original Image



So Maria asked me to blog about a crazy dream or nightmare - or one that I don't mind sharing, at any rate. The problem is, I honestly don't think that I have crazy dreams. Or if I do, I just don't remember them. I think it's possible that the crazies don't visit me in the night because they're with me so often in daylight hours...

Anywho, I do remember some of my dreams, and I suppose that they are a bit odd, but not in the way that you might think. I have those stupid dreams that don't actually feel like a dream. You know, the ones where you are doing silly, mundane things like the weekly shop, or cooking a Sunday roast.

Seriously, these dreams are as un-dreamlike as they could possibly be. I remember one time going to the bathroom, having a wee (sorry if that's too much info *snort*), stripping off for a bath, and reading a book. I was just getting to a good part (it was a re-reading of a favourite), and my flipping alarm clock went off. I was not impressed. One, because I hate waking up anyway, and two, I was really enjoying my read, and the book in question was one that I didn't actually own, so I couldn't resume the story. Grr.

Anywho, that's about as crazy as my dreams get. Like I said, I think my daytime loony-ness forces my brain into getting as much normal-ness as it can while it has a chance. As soon as my eyes open, the craziness resumes....

Tuesday, 11 October 2011

*is slightly slugged*

Limericks.
Slugs.
Pub lunches.
Fairy tales.
Crazy dream/nightmare.
A nasty post on Brighton or Butlins.
Zombie apocalypse.
Nonions.
Star Wars - Taff style.
Monty Python - Taff style.
The origin of pi.
Plato vs. Aristotle.
Chocolate - good or bad for you?.

The smallest country in the world.
Why are villains so damn sexy?
Creepy Halloween stories/movies that have the same lame plot.
The relativity of time.
Rubber ducks.
Air sex.
Palindromes.
Saucy seaside postcards.
Nude calenders.
Toffee apples.
Dung beetles.

Bicarbonate of Soda.
Spinsters and cats.
Chemical toilets.
Light bulbs.
Flea circuses.
Door stops.

Something you do not wish to even think about, let alone write about.
Something about a commonly held belief or myth that you'd like to take umbrage with. 




Original Image



Of all the weird requests above, I bet most of you would have thought that 'slugs' was one of the strangest. But 'slugs' is actually one of the the few requests that I 'get'. You see, Leanne (who suggested slugs), is a fellow Harry Potter fan, and I suspect she only managed to get slugs mentioned because Mari (another fellow HP fan) hadn't seen my post yet.

For those of you unschooled in Potterverse, most Harry Potter fans will tell you that slugs are mentioned a lot during the story. In fact, they are mentioned so often that several theorists began to wonder just how significant they might be to the central plot. Discussions were made, ideas were bandied about, and great fun was had speculating on how important these slugs could turn out to be.

Of course, it could have been that JK Rowling was merely fond of slugs and liked to mention them a lot. But a pure Potter fan will know that Jo rarely mentioned something several times unless it was some kind of foreshadowing.

There was never really any outcome on all of the slug speculation, but I think that all the slugs were leading to the arrival of a certain Professor Slughorn, who, while not a hugely important character, or one who physically did a great deal for the cause, was pretty crucial in bringing to light some vital clues to aid the good guys.

I'm not going to get into detail, because there could be - shock horror! - some people who don't know the books, but suffice to say that Sluggy did good. *nods*

And that's why slugs was suggested.

Or, at least, I think it is. Maybe Leanne just likes slugs... or likes that Mari likes slugs. :P

Monday, 10 October 2011

*is slightly worried about the way some people think*

Limericks.
Slugs.
Pub lunches.
Fairy tales.
Crazy dream/nightmare.
A nasty post on Brighton or Butlins.
Zombie apocalypse.
Nonions.
Star Wars - Taff style.
Monty Python - Taff style.
The origin of pi.
Plato vs. Aristotle.
Chocolate - good or bad for you?.

The smallest country in the world.
Why are villains so damn sexy?
Creepy Halloween stories/movies that have the same lame plot.
The relativity of time.
Rubber ducks.
Air sex.
Palindromes.
Saucy seaside postcards.
Nude calenders.
Toffee apples.
Dung beetles.

Bicarbonate of Soda.
Spinsters and cats.
Chemical toilets.
Light bulbs.
Flea circuses.
Door stops.

Something you do not wish to even think about, let alone write about.
Something about a commonly held belief or myth that you'd like to take umbrage with. 




 
Original Image

"Dung beetles are beetles that feed partly or exclusively on feces. " - Wikipedia.

And honestly, there's not an awful lot I can add to that. Some people gave me some seriously strange topics to blog about... *scratches head*

No,. Nope. Nothing I want to add to that at all. Eww.

Sunday, 9 October 2011

* is pi-ed off*

Limericks.
Slugs.
Pub lunches.
Fairy tales.
Crazy dream/nightmare.
A nasty post on Brighton or Butlins.
Zombie apocalypse.
Nonions.
Star Wars - Taff style.
Monty Python - Taff style.
The origin of pi.
Plato vs. Aristotle.
Chocolate - good or bad for you?.

The smallest country in the world.
Why are villains so damn sexy?
Creepy Halloween stories/movies that have the same lame plot.
The relativity of time.
Rubber ducks.
Air sex.
Palindromes.
Saucy seaside postcards.
Nude calenders.
Toffee apples.
Dung beetles.
Bicarbonate of Soda.
Spinsters and cats.
Chemical toilets.
Light bulbs.
Flea circuses.
Door stops.

Something you do not wish to even think about, let alone write about.
Something about a commonly held belief or myth that you'd like to take umbrage with. 


Original Image



So I'm killing two birds with one stone today, and using two of the above requests. And it makes perfect sense too, because I am going to be talking about 'the origin of pi', and that is definitely something I don't want to think about, let alone write about.

To me, pi is something you eat. I know it doesn't have an 'e' on the end, but that doesn't matter. As far as I am concerned, pi is something you either pour gravy over, or squirt with fresh cream (depending whether you have the savoury or sweet option).

OK, I know that pi is also that funny little house-like symbol that is used in maths, and I also know that it has something to do with circles, and the numbers 3.14, but unless I go to wiki (which I don't intend to do, as I have a severe aversion to anything mathematical), that's about all I can tell you.

As to the origin of pi, I really don't think that I actually care. I suspect that it was in ancient Greece or something, or maybe it had something to do with Pythagoras... if indeed Pythagoras was a person. I think he was, because his theory is famous, right? Something to do with triangles? Trigonometry?

*shudders*

I actually have nightmares about mathematical terms. Or, at least, I used to. I had possibly the scariest maths teacher in the world (we called her The Nazi Showgirl - very scary, prone to marching rather than walking, and susceptible to showing too much boob when her buttons popped open [which they frequently did]), and I honestly think I would have passed my maths G.C.S.E. if somebody else had taught me. The only thing she gave me was a morbid fear of equations and fractions. *shudders again*

So yeah, I don't know the origin of pi, I don't want to know the origin of pi, and I definitely don't want to think about it.

Or write about it (any more). Thus endeth today's ramble.


PS - Yay! As I searched for a pi picture, I discovered that the 3.14 thingy was actually right! Go me!! And take that *sticks up middle finger* Mrs Nazi Showgirl! *blows raspberry*

Saturday, 8 October 2011

*is in chocolate heaven*

Limericks.
Slugs.
Pub lunches.
Fairy tales.
Crazy dream/nightmare.
A nasty post on Brighton or Butlins.
Zombie apocalypse.
Nonions.
Star Wars - Taff style.
Monty Python - Taff style.
The origin of pi.
Plato vs. Aristotle.
Chocolate - good or bad for you?.

The smallest country in the world.
Why are villains so damn sexy?
Creepy Halloween stories/movies that have the same lame plot.
The relativity of time.
Rubber ducks.
Air sex.
Palindromes.
Saucy seaside postcards.
Nude calenders.
Toffee apples.
Dung beetles.
Bicarbonate of Soda.
Spinsters and cats.
Chemical toilets.
Light bulbs.
Flea circuses.
Door stops.

Something you do not wish to even think about, let alone write about.
Something about a commonly held belief or myth that you'd like to take umbrage with. 


Original Image



So we all know that chocolate is bad for us, right? At least, it's bad for your body at any rate. They say (who the heck are the 'they' when people say 'they say' anyway??) that a little of everything in moderation is fine, but there are only a select few who can stop at only a little bit of chocolate. I have more of a savoury tooth than a sweet one, but stick a bar of Dairy Milk in front of me and I can't help but mentally drool.

The thing is, chocolate is just a little bit sinful, isn't it? You know it's naughty to indulge, but you just can't help yourself. In fact, of all the sinful things there are in the world, eating chocolate is nothing at all, so you can still have your sweetness fix without feeling too guilty.

Of course, there's the dreaded extra poundage that it will add to your hips (did you know that it's scientifically proven to go straight to your hips? OK, not really, but it sure seems that way...), it doesn't change the fact that eating chocolate is one of the most innocent pleasures you can indulge in.

So to answer the question of whether it's bad or good, it's both. But it's kind of the badness that makes it feel so good. *nods*

I'm off now. There's a a bag of raspberry ruffles calling me...

Original Image

Friday, 7 October 2011

*coughs*

Limericks.
Slugs.
Pub lunches.
Fairy tales.
Crazy dream/nightmare.
A nasty post on Brighton or Butlins.
Zombie apocalypse.
Nonions.
Star Wars - Taff style.
Monty Python - Taff style.
The origin of pi.
Plato vs. Aristotle.
Chocolate - good or bad for you?.
The smallest country in the world.
Why are villains so damn sexy?
Creepy Halloween stories/movies that have the same lame plot.
The relativity of time.
Rubber ducks.
Air sex.
Palindromes.
Saucy seaside postcards.
Nude calenders.
Toffee apples.
Dung beetles.
Bicarbonate of Soda.
Spinsters and cats.
Chemical toilets.
Light bulbs.
Flea circuses.
Door stops.

Something you do not wish to even think about, let alone write about.
Something about a commonly held belief or myth that you'd like to take umbrage with. 




Original Image





Original Image   





Original Image





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Why do I have pictures of cute and fluffy animals on my blog today? Well, they are all calenders, and the models are all naked. So, we have 'Nude Calenders'. *nods*

*shifty*

Thursday, 6 October 2011

*is loving the sauciness*

Limericks.
Slugs.
Pub lunches.
Fairy tales.
Crazy dream/nightmare.
A nasty post on Brighton or Butlins.
Zombie apocalypse.
Nonions.
Star Wars - Taff style.
Monty Python - Taff style.
The origin of pi.
Plato vs. Aristotle.
Chocolate - good or bad for you?.
The smallest country in the world.
Why are villains so damn sexy?
Creepy Halloween stories/movies that have the same lame plot.
The relativity of time.
Rubber ducks.
Air sex.
Palindromes.
Saucy seaside postcards.
Nude calenders.
Toffee apples.
Dung beetles.
Bicarbonate of Soda.
Spinsters and cats.
Chemical toilets.
Light bulbs.
Flea circuses.
Door stops.

Something you do not wish to even think about, let alone write about.
Something about a commonly held belief or myth that you'd like to take umbrage with. 


So every time I look at my list of requests, I squirm a little bit, and so far I haven't known what I was going to blog about until I opened the window. Today is no different, but seeing as me and the hubby have just finished a marathon Gavin & Stacy watchathon, I figured saucy seaside postcards was a good bet. For those of you unfamiliar with Gavin & Stacy, it's a British sitcom partly based in Barry, or Barry Island to be exact. Barry Island is about half an hour away from the Kair of Diff (er, Cardiff), and isn't actually an island at all, but it does have a beach. It used to have a funfair, but sadly that closed a few years ago.

Anyway, Barry Island is a typically quaint British seaside destination to visit, and saucy seaside postcards are also typically British, so they sort of go together. I don't have much to say about the saucy postcards themselves, except that I've always loved them, and that I have several magnets displayed proudly on my fridge (right next to my Aragorn magnet *shifty*). I figured I'd make use of Google images and select a few samples for you...

Original Image






Original Image (this is one of my magents actually!)


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Ah, I loves me some saucy postcards...

Wednesday, 5 October 2011

*is explaining the nonion phenomenon*

Limericks.
Slugs.
Pub lunches.
Fairy tales.
Crazy dream/nightmare.
A nasty post on Brighton or Butlins.
Zombie apocalypse.
Nonions.
Star Wars - Taff style.
Monty Python - Taff style.
The origin of pi.
Plato vs. Aristotle.
Chocolate - good or bad for you?.
The smallest country in the world.
Why are villains so damn sexy?
Creepy Halloween stories/movies that have the same lame plot.
The relativity of time.
Rubber ducks.
Air sex.
Palindromes.
Saucy seaside postcards.
Nude calenders.
Toffee apples.
Dung beetles.
Bicarbonate of Soda.
Spinsters and cats.
Chemical toilets.
Light bulbs.
Flea circuses.
Door stops.

Something you do not wish to even think about, let alone write about.
Something about a commonly held belief or myth that you'd like to take umbrage with. 



Original Image




Ok, so I figured it was about time I explained about the nonions. I'm not exactly sure how it all started, except that it was me, my friend and our spouses. Oh, and wine and beer were involved too. Plus a game of Trivial Pursuit.

A few weeks ago we arranged a Trivial Pursuit night at my place. To be fair, this happens quite often, as my friend and her hubby only live across the road, and we all prefer a night in rather than a night out. Usually though, me and the hubby go across the road. I could go into detail about our Trivia nights - like the time we mixed questions from Star Wars, Lord of the Rings and ordinary Trivial Pursuit (man, that was tricky). Or I could tell you how I somehow manage to get the 'easy' questions wrong, but magically get the harder ones right. We have a laugh and a giggle, and the added alcohol brings some extra imagination to the answers (and, indeed, the questions *shifty*).

Anywho, the night in question, we decided to put a few nibbles out so that we could munch while we racked out brains for those elusive answers. My friend brought the tortillas, while me and the hubby supplied the nuts and crisps. Said crisps were onion rings, cheese balls and bacon strips. At some point during the start of the evening, someone asked for an onion ring, only being Taffies, it sounded like 'nonion ring'. We all took the mick, and ever since, onion rings have been nonion rings.

But it doesn't stop there, oh dear me no! Now we substitute an 'n' to start off any word we feel might be improved by it. Sometimes it works, sometimes not, and depending on the level of alcohol in your bloodstream. it has varying levels of hilarity.

For example, my friend, who happens to work in the shop next door to mine, often comes in for a hot coffee or three. Several days after the initial Nonion Event, she came in for her coffees, and as I served her, she asked me if we had any nonion rings.

Now, I work in a Spar shop, and we do indeed sell 'nonion' rings. So I replied, "Yeah! They're next to the nacon nips!"  Er, bacon strips, that is. Anyway, while this was very funny to me and my friend (those of you who are pulling that funny face right now -you know, the one where one eyebrow raises and the mouth droops on one side a little bit - shame on you, you obviously don't understand Taffy humour now, do you?), what was even funnier is that the bloke waiting in line to be served next 'got' it right away. He even started to ennify (I love inventing words). It was awesome. Or, indeed, nawesome.

Anyway, that be the nonions, and how we do it in Taffland. *nods*

Oh and yes, despite the title of today's post, I guess it's not really a phenomenon, but I couldn't resist all those n sounds...

*shifty*

Tuesday, 4 October 2011

*is not doing THAT*

Limericks.
Slugs.
Pub lunches.
Fairy tales.
Crazy dream/nightmare.
A nasty post on Brighton or Butlins.
Zombie apocalypse.
Nonions.
Star Wars - Taff style.
Monty Python - Taff style.
The origin of pi.
Plato vs. Aristotle.
Chocolate - good or bad for you?.
The smallest country in the world.
Why are villains so damn sexy?
Creepy Halloween stories/movies that have the same lame plot.
The relativity of time.
Rubber ducks.
Air sex.
Palindromes.
Saucy seaside postcards.
Nude calenders.
Toffee apples.
Dung beetles.
Bicarbonate of Soda.
Spinsters and cats.
Chemical toilets.
Light bulbs.
Flea circuses.
Door stops.

Something you do not wish to even think about, let alone write about.
Something about a commonly held belief or myth that you'd like to take umbrage with. 



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Oh. My. Lordy. I don't even know where to begin on this one...

Anywho, air sex. How about that? Who'd have thunk it? In fact, who would want to think it?? I mean seriously, air sex?  Why on earth would anyone wish to do that?

Air guitaring I get. Well, sort of anyway. Guitaring is a solo activity, yes? I mean yes, you can do it with a partner, or even in a group (still talking air guitaring here, guys), but essentially it is something you are meant to do by yourself. Therefore, air guitaring kind of makes sense. Hey, I even have a crack at air guitaring myself after a vodka or three.

But air sex? Seriously? Ok, so I'm in danger of turning into a cast member from Grey's Anatomy here with all the 'seriouslys', but honestly.... seriously??

Sex is a duo sport, people. Yes, I know every man (and woman) and his dog (but hopefully not with the dog) has done the solo misattribuition thingy, but that's not technically sex, right? Sex is the shortened form of sexual intercourse, so how on earth can you simulate it on stage, fully dressed, with an invisible partner? Not to mention in time with the background music.

It's just wrong on so many levels! If you enjoy the sport that much, grab a partner and sneak behind the stage, that's my advice. *nods* While the competitors are 'performing' the Solo Sex Samba, you and your chosen one can do the Couple Conga. Youknowzitmakezsense!

And that's all I have to say about that. *nods*

Monday, 3 October 2011

*has wealth of knowledge on bicarb*

Limericks.
Slugs.
Pub lunches.
Fairy tales.
Crazy dream/nightmare.
A nasty post on Brighton or Butlins.
Zombie apocalypse.
Nonions.
Star Wars - Taff style.
Monty Python - Taff style.
The origin of pi.
Plato vs. Aristotle.
Chocolate - good or bad for you?.
The smallest country in the world.
Why are villains so damn sexy?
Creepy Halloween stories/movies that have the same lame plot.
The relativity of time.
Rubber ducks.
Air sex.
Palindromes.
Saucy seaside postcards.
Nude calenders.
Toffee apples.
Dung beetles.
Bicarbonate of Soda.
Spinsters and cats.
Chemical toilets.
Light bulbs.
Flea circuses.
Door stops.

Something you do not wish to even think about, let alone write about.
Something about a commonly held belief or myth that you'd like to take umbrage with. 

Original Image



I sold a tub of bicarbonate of soda today at work. Which is odd because it's not something that sells a great deal, but happens to be on my list of things to blog about this month.

The customer actually asked me for baking soda. I told her we had bicarbonate of soda, and baking powder, but not something called baking soda. Then she asked me what it was. Whether she meant bicarb of soda, baking powder, or baking soda, I have no idea, but as I don't really know what any of them are, I said I wasn't sure. *shifty* I then added that baking powder usually goes into cakes (possibly? I actually don't really know as I don't bake), and that my mother used to put bicarb in the pot when she was cooking fresh cauliflower. Stopped the white bit going yellow, or something.

Anywho...

Then I read the bicarb blurb, and it said you could have one part bicarb to two parts of... erm... something else, and it would make baking powder, so figured that bicarb was her best bet. I showed the customer and gave myself a mental pat on the back for being helpful.

Then she told me that she didn't want to use it for cooking anyway, she'd just read that baking soda was good for cleaning a smelly fridge.

*coughs*

I sold her the bicarb in the end because I knew that it can indeed be used to make a fridge sweet-smelling again. How I knew this, I do not know, but know it I did. I mentally punched the air afterwards as I now had something to ramble about for one of my October requests. *grins shiftily* Alas, I'm pretty sure I'm not going to sell or come across any of the other suggested topics over the next few weeks...

Sunday, 2 October 2011

*is severely lacking*

Limericks.
Slugs.
Pub lunches.
Fairy tales.
Crazy dream/nightmare.
A nasty post on Brighton or Butlins.
Zombie apocalypse.
Nonions.
Star Wars - Taff style.
Monty Python - Taff style.
The origin of pi.
Plato vs. Aristotle.
Chocolate - good or bad for you?.
The smallest country in the world.
Why are villains so damn sexy?
Creepy Halloween stories/movies that have the same lame plot.
The relativity of time.
Rubber ducks.
Air sex.
Palindromes.
Saucy seaside postcards.
Nude calenders.
Toffee apples.
Dung beetles.
Bicarbonate of Soda.
Spinsters and cats.
Chemical toilets.
Light bulbs.
Flea circuses.
Door stops.

Something you do not wish to even think about, let alone write about.
Something about a commonly held belief or myth that you'd like to take umbrage with. 


You know, I thought it would be easier - or less constricting - if I had the option to pick one of the above subjects rather than work through the list in order, but that's really not the case. I keep reading through the topics, hoping that one of them will inspire something - anything - for me to write about. It's just not happening.


So as I am severely lacking in 'light bulb' moments, I guess I'll have to pick 'light bulbs' as my topic for today.

Now you all know what a light bulb moment is, right? Let me find a picture...

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There, you should know what I mean now.

Anywho, today I am severely lacking in 'light bulb moments' (which I've already said, I know), and as this is something that happens fairly often, I have a sort of strategy for dealing with the problem. Usually I try and find something else to do (something that makes sense for a procrastinator, yes?), and while this often involves something that has nothing whatsoever to do with writing, occasionally I do find myself biting the bullet and plodding along with a different story/blog post etc etc.

Or sometimes I cheat. *shifty*

What I really wanted to blog about today, for example, was how people who don't look after animals shouldn't be allowed to have them. But try as I might, I can't even loosely link that subject to anything from the above list. So I shall have to keep the rage that is currently making my blood boil on a simmer, and remember to post about it another time.

That still doesn't help with today's post though. I've racked my brains, and apart from the many different types of light bulbs that are out there, unless you are a light bulb fanatic, I don't see how it can be of interest to anyone. So I took the 'cheating' route and decided to go with the 'light bulb moment' interpretation.

I'm still waiting for that 'light bulb' moment though, so I guess that means today's post is doomed.

Or maybe that should be 'dimmed', not 'doomed', seeing as my Idea Light Bulb is definitely not shedding much light at the moment.

Oh well, back tomorrow, with a blog about... er... one of the above.

Saturday, 1 October 2011

*is changing the post's title*

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Lordy, October came around far too fast for my liking... but, October it is, therefore I must don my blogging skates and get cracking on this self-imposed challenge. I'll be posting the list of requests that I received at the top of every post this month so that everyone can keep track on me (and check that I'm not cheating *shifty*), plus it will be good for me to cross things off publicly. *nods*

I seem to remember saying that I would blog about these things in the order they were suggested, but as I skimmed over the list (wincing more than once, by the way), I 've decided to tackle whatever takes my fancy each and every day as we go through the month. I have a feeling that several of the harder topics will be bunched together from the 25th onwards. *coughs*

Here goes!

Limericks.
Slugs.
Pub lunches.
Fairy tales.
Crazy dream/nightmare.
A nasty post on Brighton or Butlins.
Zombie apocalypse.
Nonions.
Star Wars - Taff style.
Monty Python - Taff style.
The origin of pi.
Plato vs. Aristotle.
Chocolate - good or bad for you?.
The smallest country in the world.
Why are villains so damn sexy?
Creepy Halloween stories/movies that have the same lame plot.
The relativity of time.
Rubber ducks.
Air sex.
Palindromes.
Saucy seaside postcards.
Nude calenders.
Toffee apples.
Dung beetles.
Bicarbonate of Soda.
Spinsters and cats.
Chemical toilets.
Light bulbs.
Flea circuses.
Door stops.






A month full of madness begins,
I wonder what nonsense it brings?
I asked for requests
For October's blogfest
The mind boggles at some of these things.

Sexy villains and rubber ducks -
These will surely inspire some muck!
I'll be sure to include
Some calenders - nude,
And a toffee apple to suck.

I could say that air sex is hot,
That some movies have a lame plot.
And bicarb of soda?
I'd have preferred Yoda!
Yet I'm stuck with fleas and door stops.

Heaven knows how I'll get through it all,
I'm expecting to hit that Brick Wall
With the relativity of time,
And the origin of pi,
But still, I'm gonna have a ball!




Honestly, I keep reading this list, and all I can think of is... *doomed*

Edit: Oops, I'm supposed to be asterisking my titles too. *shifty*

Edit 2 (I have a feeling this month is going to be a *shifty* one through and through):  Acckkkk!

Somehow I didn't include Jan's suggestions, though I saw them AND commented on them at the time! I will have to fit them in somewhere, and so that they are on record, the suggestions were:

1. Write on something you do not wish to even think about, let alone write about.

2. Something about a commonly held belief or myth that you'd like to take umbrage with. For instance, the myth of soul-mates, or the myth of not enough food in the world to feed the hungry...

Sunday, 31 October 2010

Odd October

So I did it! I blogged every day of October! *faints* I could not have done it, though, without the help of six fabulous people who each came up with five subjects for me to ramble about. So a big 'thank you' to Maria, Natasha, Tami, Weesa, Mark and Dave! *glomps all*

It's been a bit manic, I'll admit. Some of the subjects were really easy to blog about. I mean, the mere mention of Viggo Mortensen unleashes a torrent of words (not to mention other stuff *shifty*), so blogging about him was a sincere pleasure (obviously my good buddy Weesa knows me too well). Other subjects were tricky. For example, when Maria asked for nuclear physics, I felt sure that I was going to stall. I managed to get something up, granted, but I am eternally grateful that the other half of Maria's suggestion was to blog about something I had no clue about, so at least I had an excuse for my insane mutterings.

Mark, of course, gave me several topics that threatened to scupper me up completely. Honestly, if you had told me last month that I would have blog posts about darts and Noel Edmonds, I would have raised my eyebrows and snorted profusely. But I cobbled them together, even if I squirmed a bit while doing so.

Tami's suggestions were more writerly inclined, and I am not in the least surprised that she gave me subjects which I'm pretty sure were designed to make me feel guilty and force me to edit my existing novel, and get cracking on my next one, The Watery Tart is a sneasky one, but I loves her, I do, I loves her. *nods*

Natasha also didn't overly surprise me when she suggested something cricket related. Some of you may remember when I first did requests last year, and Natasha asked for a blog about 'deep fine legs'. Now, even though I should really know a fair bit about cricket seeing as my husband used to be a groundsman for our local cricket club, I had no idea that 'deep fine legs' was a cricketing term. Hence, I scratched my head, pondered for a while, and ended up Taffing for the first time. I'm eternally grateful that for once in my life, my cluelessness led to something good. Youknowzitmakezsense!

Finally, my last batch of requests (from work buddy Dave) could have botched up the entire thing, no question. I really had no idea what to say when I was rambling about coke and wotsits, and Friday's X Box post was a struggle too. When it came to Cheryl Cole, I was infinitely thankful for Google images. But although Dave probably gave me the toughest subjects, he also gave me the easiest one of all. Yesterday I was able to recycle an old story of mine, which pretty much fit in perfectly with the final request of 'maids'.

Okay, so I cheated a few times, and a few more times I twisted the subject slightly to fit my needs, but on the whole I am happy with the month's work. And still slightly shocked that I completed the challenge. Post a blog every day for an entire month? No sweat! It was easy! *coughs*

Now it's time to prepare for writing a novel in November. 50,000 words in thirty days? I'll have a bluddy good try, butt!

Saturday, 30 October 2010

The French Maid



Summer 1422

Dear Henri,

Maman has said that that the whole family is to visit the Loire Valley in the month of July. Papa had to be coaxed, but he agreed that it would be good of us to get away for a few days. The conflict is wearing upon his nerves and I believe that the country air will fortify him greatly.

We hope to be with you in a month or so. Send my regards to your parents.

Your friend,

Jehanne


+++

Fall 1422

Dear Henri,

We have been home but a few short weeks, but already the beautiful time we spent together has become distant in my memory. The lazy days of running freely in the breeze are now just shadows upon my mind; Papa has already lost the bloom that had only just begun to appear on his careworn face. Maman fears that the conflict will soon be upon our doorstep, and Papa seems to agree.

I fear that our lives are about to become entangled in this horrid war. I sometimes hear Papa in his study talking to others; they talk in hushed voices, but their words appear loud to my ears. I fear for my family; I fear for my friends; I fear for my country. I pray that it will end soon.

Your friend,

Jehanne


+++

Spring 1423

Dear Henri,

I am deeply sorry to hear about your Papa's passing. If I was with you I would hold you in my arms and embrace your grief as my own. Alas, I cannot do so. I will, however, pray for your Papa's soul and ask that The Lord take him to His bosom like He would His own child. You are, as ever, in my thoughts and prayers.

Your friend,

Jehanne


+++

Winter 1423

Dear Henri,

It has been so long since I have written to you. The situation here is now dire; Papa has forbidden my brothers and I to correspond with anyone. It has been months since I was last allowed to bring my quill to paper; Papa finally relented and has allowed me to write to you, but I fear it will be a short transcript.

We are all in reasonably good health, though Maman has begun to slow a little  of late. In truth, I think that her heart is the cause of her troubles. she worries so much. I know that we live in dark times, but Maman takes it so hard. She worries for my brothers' lives, and Papa's too. I do not know if we will meet in the near future; this wretched war has closed many doors to us. I hope with all my heart that we can one day share another carefree interlude in the fields of corn, but I fear that it will be a long time before that can ever come to pass.

You remain, as ever, in my thoughts.

Jehanne


+++

Spring 1424

Dear Henri,

Such a wonderful thing has happened! I have been visited by a number of dreams, each one urging me to take charge and move our country forward out of the abyss. The days have grown so dark, yet I now see that there is light if I have but the courage to proceed. Papa is very supportive, thought he thinks I am a little young. Maman has not been so agreeable, but she does not dare to go against Papa. I do not know what I can tell you, just that I know that I have work to do. Memories of our friendship sustain me through what I know will be a difficult journey. I dearly wish to visit you, but I do not know when or if that will be possible. I long to tell you of my dreams, for I think you are the only person who would understand them. My brothers doubt me, but I know that you would not be the same.

I live in hope that we will be together one day soon, there is much I have to tell you.

I remain your friend,

Jehanne


+++

Late Spring 1428

My Dearest Henri,

It has been some time since I last wrote to you, but do not doubt that you have been constantly in my thoughts. I have heard great things about you; I know that you do much to help our country and I am so proud to call you my friend. I sometimes wish that this war had never come to us, for I think that our friendship may have pursued a different course to what we have traveled thus far.

But I digress; I have long since discarded the female notion of love and marriage. I know what my duty must be, and I am happy to be doing The Lord's work. I only hope that you understand that the choices I make are for the good of our country. I would not have you think ill of me, that would be the heaviest of all crosses to bear.

I do not know when I shall be able to write again, things are becoming more complicated. I have a mission to fulfill, duties to perform. I am not afraid to admit that I am scared, but I fully believe that my actions will prove to be successful. I have The Lord on my side, and His arms are there to protect me.

Do not look for my letters, for they shall be few and long in coming. Just know that you are in my heart as always, and that you are never far from my mind.

Always,

Jehanne


+++

June 1429

Dearest Henri,

I have good tidings. I have met with King Charles and much has been discussed. I have managed to persuade him to raise an army. I fear I cannot tell you the details but I wanted you to know that at last things are proceeding as planned. We shall be passing through your village very soon, within the month if all goes to plan. Watch for me on the corn fields, for I shall endeavor at all costs to meet with you.

Soon to be with you,

Jehanne


+++

Winter 1429

Dear Henri,

I have no time for niceties; I fear I must be blunt. All has not been well for several weeks; indeed, I fear that events have long since passed the point of no return. My convictions tell me that I am still on the right path of my destiny, but my heart quivers with fear for I know that my situation is fraught with danger. I do not see a way forward, but I must remain faithful to The Good Lord and continue onwards. I do not know my destination, but I remain convinced that The Lord will look after me.

I pray for your safety, and that of our countrymen.

Yours truly,

Jehanne


+++

Winter 1430

My Dearest Henri,

I pray that this letter finds you, for I know not where you are hiding. The last few months have seen a frenzied amount of activity. Battles have been won, but many more have been lost. I do not see the way forward any more. My dreams are as vivid as ever, but they do not seem as clear as they once were. I fear that my anxiety is rendering my faith useless. How can I do God's Will if I am fearful of the consequences? I struggled for some time before I realized that my very indecisiveness was the reason that I could not understand my instructions.

Not any more. I have accepted my fate and am once again fully willing to do my duty. My only regret is that I will not see your dear face in front of me again. My spies tell me that I am being watched. it is only a matter of time before I am betrayed. I pray for the poor soul who will one day turn me over to the madmen that control our people. I pray for myself. I pray for my army.

Most of all I pray for you, sweet Henri. I pray that you will forgive me for loving The Lord more than loving you. Do not doubt that I love you, just understand that my faith has more power over me than any mortal love could ever hope to overcome.

I know that will meet in the afterlife.

Yours,

Jehanne


+++

Winter 1431

Monsieur Dupres,

This package has been sent to you by request of Jehanne d'Arc. In the weeks before her capture she commissioned a local artist to paint her portrait. She walked many miles for many days before she found the location that pleased her. She asked that she be painted without her suit of armor, and that she be surrounded by golden fields. She instructed me to forward you the portrait on the event of her death, along with the enclosed note.

Take care of our Lady.

Regards,

Durand Lassois







Henri,

I am known as a warrior, but I am still a woman. If I lived my life again I do not doubt for one moment that I would make the same decisions. Just as I do not doubt that I would have the same regrets.

My faith and devotion will always belong to The Lord, but my heart remains in the corn fields of my youth, and my love remains with you.

Walk through our fields of gold and remember me.

Jehanne


+++
Author's notes:



When Dave asked for 'maids' as his final request, I immediately thought of the story I had written several years ago. It seemed fitting that as I am about to enter a month of story writing, that my final request post should contain a story too. This particular story was inspired by some parameters set by a long-ago online writing cafe. We were given the image of the lady in the shawl (painting by Herbert Berman, of Broderick Gallery), and asked to write a story using the image, and a song of our choice, as inspiration. I used an old song by the group 'OMD' called Joan of Arc.

A little catholic girl
Who's fallen in love
A face on a page
A gift from above

She should have known better
Than to giver her heart
She should have known better
Than to ever part

Without me
Without me

I gave her everything
That I ever owned
I think she understood
But she never spoke

She shouldn't oughta try
To be that way
She shouldn't have to go there
Ever again

Without me
Without me

Now listen to us good
And listen well
Listen to us all
And everything we tell

We should have known better
Than to giver her away
We should have known better
To this very day

Without me
Without me

Now listen Joan of Arc
All you gotta do
Is say the right words
And Ill be coming through
Hold you in my arms
And take you
Right away

Now she's on her way
To another land
We never understood
Why she gave her hand

She shouldn't oughta promise
Because it's just pretend
I know she doesn't mean it
And she'll leave again

Without me
Without me
Without me
Without me