The World Cup

There was a large sporting event happening in South Africa, you may have heard about it. I’ve been really good and, despite watching almost every game, I’ve not really mentioned it here and I’ve tried not to be too boring about it on Twitter (I feel sorry for my followers at times, I really do). Spain won. I yelled and punched the air when this happened. I was most pleased. Mainly because Holland seemed to think the best way to stop Spain was to kick them (in the chest at one point). And here endeth the football.

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World Cup of *Yawn*

It must be a false memory. Like that one where I’m still convinced that, when I was about 6, I used a toy phone to speak to my cousins in Dundee. I am still sure, to this day, that I did speak to them despite all evidence to the contrary. I’m nothing if not stubborn. So it’s with an expression of perplexity that I sit night after night and watch the World Cup (of Football, in case you were confused). I hear the vulva horn thingies buzzing away and can see the pitch, the ball, the referee and the players. Every possible moment has a mention of England in one form or another, and there are liberal doses of casual …

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Coming Down

Dunno about you, but our Friday night was spent avoiding Children in Need. It’s just awful. But then I feel the same way about can-shakers on street corners… same thing, different exposure. Saturday and, after a quick stop off at Costco, we headed through to Dumbarton to help prepare the rest of the buffet for the leaving party that night. My brother-in-law, who really enjoys cooking and is a very good chef, had already prepared enough food to feed about 150 people so we didn’t have that much to do. Especially as we were only expecting somewhere between 50-70 on the night… Needless to say there was a LOT of food leftover, there are only so many chicken and sweet …

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Searching for wordsAt lunchtime today I will be going shopping. I will be buying a ‘joke’ gift. I should stress that I am buying it for someone else. Thing is I’m worried about how to phrase my request, which do you think: Can I have a plastic poo please? Can I have a fake turd? Can I have a joke jobbie? [insert other colloquialism for faeces] What a quandary. Ohh yes, I should explain why, shouldn’t I… well.. bear with me please… Seemingly, in South Africa, for a bridal shower it is traditional for the bride to receive kitchen utensils. When she gets the present she has to guess what it is before opening it, if she gets it wrong …

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