Friday, May 27, 2005

Overdue

Thank you to the wonderful world of google, Turkey, where someone had entered the phrase “sneaky pee” into that wondrous search engine, and been directed to my site, because I used the phrase once.

I was intrigued, and pursued the link. Apparently this phrase is a euphemism used by those who gain sexual gratification from watching the act of urination. Good luck to them I say. There are sites called “Doctor Trickle” and “Pissing Bondage” among many others catering for this need. I am sure that my readers (a Mrs Trickle of North Wales) will not have been aware of this information.

Of course, publishing this data increases the chances of my site being visited by those who some might accuse of being perverse.

Whoever they are, and whatever they enjoy provided it does not harm others, they are welcome here.

Tuesday, May 17, 2005

File this entry under "Asking for trouble"

An erudite and very good friend of mine, who I will not identify lest it harm her chances of becoming a parent governor at her son's school in Haslemere, sent me a brief book review containing the phrase "I laughed my tits off".
Inevitably, this has had an unsettling effect upon me, and has resulted in images that, on the whole, I could better do without populating my consciousness.
Could any of my readers (a Mrs Titless of North Wales) help to suggest other images which might help to banish these particular ones to some less visited corner of my brain?

Friday, May 13, 2005

My new best friend

Despite competition from Watski, I nominate this as today's best journal entry.

At the other end of the scale, I urge my readers (a Mrs Trellis of North Wales), not to read the comment by Karl in the thread "Countdown to the Royal Divorce - part 2.

Tuesday, May 10, 2005

And a big "Thank You" to all of my visitors

I shall take some time to go through the interesting catalogue of sites that have appeared in the referring web site section of this diary.

The mundane explanation for the appearance of the sites is, for those of you unfamiliar with the mechanics of blogger, that if you click on the “Next blog” icon at the top of this screen you will be transported to a random blog. Not truly random, of course, as computers can’t cope with that concept. One, or a few, of my visitors have arrived here by that method.

1) You eventually become who you pretend to be.
She begins her latest entry with “I really don't have anything to say about today” and then continues.
D-

2) Nude Beauty.
Nice tits. Now fuck off.
C-

3) Welding and welders.
Inspired.
B+

4) Drama Club.
In Portuguese. Sample translation “ouch, this aches to think me lonely”. Charming
C+

5) All about scuba diving.
Not as funny as welding.
D

6) Best Free European Porn.
Fairly empty, as one would expect. Probably should have been a link to Zoe.
D

7) enna pArvai indha pArvai. (That is anglicised Tamil)
Dunno what the Tamil means, but the rest of the site is the incoherent ramblings of an ill educated baboon.
A-

8) La Cosa Knitstra. (geddit?)
Photographs of knitting. Utterly, totally and emphatically pointless.
A+

8) Rock and Rolls.
Photographs of dull buildings.
B+

9) TLC Janna.
Suicidal ramblings from middle America. Waltons without the sex and violence.
D-

10) Rulz indeed.
Shite indeed.
D

10) Alarm systems.
“Find an alarm system here”. And use it to alert others not to visit this site.
D

11) Obiter Dictum
I can’t stand these people who pick up an obscure Latin phrase just to show off.
B

12) Blog de toroenmaromado.
Translation excerpt: “In the Corrillo of San Nicholas, then neuralgic center of the villa, staged the allegory of the Eucaristía, completing the celebration "giant and tarascas". Consider yourselves educated.
B

13) Adam’s Web Journal
The thoughts of an embryonic Einstein.
Unfortunately, not Albert, but his moron cousin Dwayne.
F-

Monday, May 09, 2005

I guess I won't be seeing her again.

This week's lesson in etiquette comes from my chat with Naomi, who I met for the first time this weekend.
For some reason we were discussing Coronation Street, and I quoted my favourite line, circa 1966
"She were that bandy legged, she couldn't stop a pig in an entry".
Naomi: "And I bet you haven't had much occasion to use that line, have you?"
Me: "No, not till I met you".

Friends wanted. Low expectations an advantage. Apply Scurra House, Kingsley.

Tuesday, May 03, 2005

Countdown to the royal divorce - Part 2

I think that it is an opportune moment, while everyone who one talks to is obsessing about the world snooker finals, to bring you up to date on the latest happenings in the Houses of Windsor.

Since the immense success of the wedding – I hope you have all seen the pirate video that has been circulating on the web, where they tied up Rowan Williams and had Rowan Atkinson re-enact his role from 4 Weddings, and do an alternative blessing – Camilla has been barely able to sit down. Those of a critical disposition might say that she is a little bit full of herself. She has taken to addressing herself orally and in writing as “Her Majesty Apparent”, or HMA for short. This is all very well within the confines of the family, where they are used to her high spirits, but secretly there is concern that these japes may overflow into the public arena.

Liz confides that she would love to abdicate “Nothing I’d like better than to spend my afternoons down the bingo at Chiswick, or picking up bargains in the BHS sale, but I can’t really leave the family firm in the hands of these wallies. Heaven knows what they’ll get up to without my vigilance.”

Indeed, despite their raucous private behaviour together, on the world stage Liz seems to prevent Camilla from letting her hair down. Worries about Camilla bursting into giggles during the one minute silence on Remembrance Sunday, or mooning behind Charles during the Christmas broadcast abound. They always have a horse or two to take the blame in case Phil lets one rip at the Cenotaph, but who could justify hyenas?

In the midst of this Charles remains unchanged – bewildered and increasingly unworldly.

Camilla’s latest prank was to stick a carrot up the exhaust pipe of Andrew’s Range Rover at Highgrove. Not content with that, she did the same thing to Anne’s horse. The poor creature was alarmed and terrified, brayed like a thing possessed and left a trail of carrot flavoured dung all over Charles’ organic azalea garden. The horse was similarly distressed.