Random anonymous annoying people

Recently I had a comment on an old post from someone called "Robert". He doesn't have a blog by the looks of it, or he doesn't want to share. I think he must be american as he doesn't seem to understand irony and decided to be quite rude and patronising to me. (Sorry if I have offended the nice americans I know! This doesn't apply to you!) I have no idea why he decided to comment, but he has really pissed me off. I deleted his "opinions" as I don't need that kind of shit on my blog, but tell me why do people feel the need to do that?! I bet he isn't even called "Robert".

Sigh

Q: How does the moon cut his hair?
A: Eclipse it

Child genius or child exploitation?!

Baby Babs can now do brilliant impressions of a rabbit, a chicken and a lion. They really make me laugh and he learned them straightaway, it wasn't a case of "you WILL be a chicken!". But part of me thinks I shouldn't be encouraging it, is it child exploitation or have I got a young impressionist on my hands?! And what should I teach him next?!

Daytime tv

I've got to the point where I can't watch daytime tv anymore. Recently itv got fined for showing violent episodes of Taggart and other shows at 3 in the afternoon. Midsomer Murders as well, and man that's violent and has lots of rumpy pumpy too!

This week I caught an episode of Doctors, a daytime soap about a health centre. Haven't seen it for a while, but one of the doctors was paralysed in a car crash by a colleague last year sometime. Queue lots of angst ridden episodes, Rocky style exercise routines trying to get his legs back, him trying to date ladies and then when they knocked him back going "is it coz I'm disabled?" [No, it's coz you are bleedin' annoying]. This week he was clearly much better, he was walking, had a lovely girlfriend, they were talking about going scuba diving and everything! Then he was flattened by a lorry. Dead as a dodo. Poor sod. What was it all for?

I think it is a cunning plan to get me to do something other than veg on the sofa! Damn those tv schedulers.

Yours Mary Whitehouse jr :-)

Gladiator

Since we married, Mr Babs has let his personal appearance go a bit. He doesn't shave as much as he used to, really only when we have somewhere to go, which isn't often. I don't mind a bit of stubble, but it's gone a bit beyond that now and he looks like a man whose wife has left him or who has lost all his money on the horses. I had a plan to make him shave at the weekend, but then a bloody woman at his work came up to him and said "I like your beard, you look like a gladiator!" Thanks love. A gladiator! If he did indeed look like Russell Crowe then I wouldn't mind at all. He refuses to shave now and his head is twice the size. Cow. And why was she commenting on my husband's appearance? Do I need to go and sort her out?

Sigh

I am currently doing a proofreading correspondence course, I am extremely nitpicky and hate finding mistakes in books so I am probably perfect for it. Anyway, I've got to do an assessment and post it back to them, and have to get at least a B to pass the whole course. I have spent the last week agonising about a part of it, the text is all jumbled up and in real life you would query it so they can check it against the manuscript. But I decided this was too easy and they really wanted you to correct it to demonstrate your understanding of the symbols you need to use. But did they?! After days of going backwards and forwards, in desperation I just rang them to ask and the girl said "oh yeah, you just query it" and that was that! No "oh it's an assessment, an important part of the course, I can't help you I'm afraid", just "oh we'll tell you the answer, don't worry!". On the one hand I am grateful that my instincts were right in the first place, but on the other, does everybody pass this course as they just tell you what to do?!

Pirate jokes

I thought I would share my current collection of pirate jokes after the whinging in the last post. Nothing is ever so bad that a pirate joke can't cheer you up :-)

Q: What music do pirates listen to?
A: Arrrr and B

Q: What did it cost the pirate for a new peg leg and hook?
A: An arm and a leg

Q: What do you get if you cross a pirate and a vampire?
A: Draculaarrrrrr

[Hee hee, I particularly like the last one, and for Miss S and Lady L, my favourite ever joke: Q: What do you get if you cross a badger and a seagull? A: A bagel!!]

Desperate housewives

I am full of rage at my other half today. Why? Well, let me see. These are my jobs:

Cleaning
Cooking (and deciding what to cook)
Shopping (including beer buying)
Gardening
Car maintenance and cleaning
Paying bills
Arranging medical, dental and optician appointments as necessary
Collecting prescriptions and medication as and when required by husband
Washing
Ironing
Buying clothes for husband and son
Arranging birthday cards/presents/xmas cards/presents for entire family
Bringing up baby

These are his jobs:

Go to work
Wash up after tea

Now do you understand? I have over at least the last 6 months asked him to fix the kitchen tap and the shower screen, both things I can't do myself. Are they fixed? He is also supposed to mow the lawn. He does it grudgingly about twice a year.

Oh dear, this list hasn't helped at all. I'm more mad now. Damn. And if I brought this up? "I go to work to pay for it all." But I know if I do go back to work I'll be doing it on top of everything else! I am oh so full of rage. But I must also be an idiot to do it all. Crap.

Depressed road safety campaigners?

In Lincolnshire it appears that the road safety people are either very depressed or have a very black sense of humour. On all the roads there were anti-speeding signs, not your usual "drive safely" or "keep your speed down". Oh no. The two most prevalent ones were very dark.

"ARRIVE ALIVE!!!" screamed the first poster as we sped past it. "How could you arrive otherwise?" was my first thought.

"TO DIE FOR???!!!" asked the second with a picture of a motorbike next to the cheery slogan.

My, they must really need to be shocked out of bad driving in Lincolnshire.

Fishermen

We were staying in a fishing cottage so my father-in-law could spend the week failing to catch anything of note. One day a fisherman round the corner from us caught quite a big fish. Someone else had stopped to look, so I took Baby Babs to have his first look at a fish. The man didn't say anything but quite clearly didn't want us to look so we left. He was a rude man. Then it turned out he was an editor of some regional fishing magazine and thought he was the bees knees. He obviously thought I knew who he was and was trying to get an autograph or a photo or something ridiculous. "This is me with Syd, the local editor of Fishing World, do you know him?". Honestly. He swanned round the place like he owned it, shouting out to anyone in range how many fish he had caught recently. He ate for free in the cafe and had loads of free gear, obviously through his job, but he didn't half show it off. Horrible man. Most of the fishermen were a bit odd really, they really think they are it, but frankly they are all a bit sad and I am glad I am only a football widow, they don't usually have much to brag about, well not in my house anyway :-)

Strange places I have been

On a recent week away we found the Strangest Pub in Britain. In a desperate bid to find a pub that was showing the two Tottenham matches on that week (Mr Babs and holidays do not mean he will not insist on watching them playing badly) we ended up in one called the Red Lion. Every other pub was showing better matches. The first night, there was us and probably 8 other people, including the bar staff. This made the notice on the door stating that the pub had a maximum capacity and people would be turned away when reached most intriguing. Is that maximum number 15? 20? I cannot imagine it getting so full they had a one in one out policy.

The other night we were in there it was slightly busier, but there was still room for about fifty more people. It must have been sports night. There were two intensely competitive dominoes games going on in opposite corners, a closely fought darts match in another, two different football games on opposing screens, and a queue for the slot machines. It made my head hurt. We were given the evil eye all night by an odd guy called Nige, I can only think we were stood in his spot or he really hated Tottenham fans. I thought he was going to follow us home and kill us, especially as we staying in a cottage up a dark lane in the middle of nowhere. He didn't though.

The town itself was also very odd. It was all pubs, food shops, and indian takeaways. That was about it. Nowhere to buy clothes, apart from one charity shop, nowhere to buy holiday gifts. Oh and the biggest vets I have ever seen. And in the only pub we ate in, it turned out the manager used to live round the corner from my in-laws in London. How bizarre. And the amount of people on those oldie scooter haring round the lanes was nothing short of dangerous. They all think they are on motorbikes and reliving their youth. Wait till someone gets runover, that's all I'm saying Evil Knievel grandad.

Things Baby Babs finds amusing

1) Pretending to make his teddy bears smell his feet and then drop down dead.
2) Crashing things into each other.
3) Falling over.
4) Other people falling over.
5) Dancing.
6) Taking pens out of pots and putting them back in again.
7) Taking calls on his pretend mobile.
8) The theme tune to Hollyoaks.

I've either got a child genius or a slightly twisted future madman on my hands.

Why I hate London

Last week me and Baby Babs were on a bus. Unfortunately it was one of the new fangled bendy buses so we were miles away from the driver. When the bus stopped at our stop, instead of letting us off first, an awful awful woman barged her way onto the bus and shoved the buggy, leaving Baby Babs face down on the pavement and me on my ass on the bus. If I hadn't been so worried about the doors closing and me being carried off and Baby Babs being left on the pavement I would have either a) called the police or b) smashed her or c) both. She was a terrible woman and all she said was "sorry but you should have moved". If I hadn't been in shock I would have dragged her off the bus and taught her that you are supposed to let people off before forcing your way on. I am still SO mad about it and I hope that the people on the bus smashed her instead. And I hope she learnt her lesson but I doubt it very much.

And another thing...

...Mr Babs has to have an eye check up every year for his diabetes. I rang up to make an appointment for his annual check to our usual place to be told the next appointment was "18th December". December? When I queried this I was given a snotty "well there is a big demand for them" from some schoolgirl trainee. So I rang the much smaller local independent opticians and got an appointment for 23rd September. Ah ha. A 4 month wait for these eye tests can have really bad consequences, they can pick up all sorts of problems with them. How is this shop, a massive chain, so shit?! Last year it was fine. Of course I have complained :-)

Is it me?!

Recently I have had cause to contact a bank and an online shop to ask questions. Not complaints for once! But in both cases it appeared that my query had not been listened to AT ALL and they just had a standard response based on one word in my query. The shop one was yesterday, I received a watch as a gift but it needs altering. So as it came from an online shop and was a gift I wasn't sure how to go about sending it for alteration and I thought "ooh I'll just email them and ask". So I get a response telling me how to return it. I replied saying "if you actually read my message, I don't want to return it I just want it altered!". It drives me mad. The bank one was hilarious, our local branch was closed with some electrical problem and I needed to see if it was open so I thought "ooh I'll just phone them and see". But I couldn't find the local branch number and the woman on the generic number apparently didn't hear a word I said and told me I could pay my money in whenever the branch was open. I did complain about her and when I got a response from the manager saying "I believe you had a query about the opening hours of your local branch..." I gave up! Is it me or are all customer service people really rubbish these days?! Or are they tied to strict responses that are on a piece of paper and told to find the one that fits best and they aren't allowed to ad lib?!

Are the fish inside or outside?

Today we are meeting up with Miss S to go to the London Aquarium for our birthdays. It is a little more sedate than previous years, but with Baby Babs in tow and Miss S carrying one herself (currently called Clive until we know one way or the other), serious drinking and dancing and high heels are out for the moment. But they will return. Oh yes. It has been relatively nice weather up until today, but as I sit here now it is teeming down and it seems a little weird to venture out into torrential rain and then pay to go indoors and look at more water. But who doesn't love looking at fish and the promise of cake afterwards?!

What a relief...

The new series of In the Night Garden started yesterday and it hasn't changed. Goodo, Baby Babs likes continuity. My main concern was that Derek Jacobi would be sick of narrating with all the funny narrative and oohs and aahs, and would be replaced by someone like Sean Bean, but he's still there. He either has grandkids who love it or he's being paid shedloads. He sounds like he's narrating Shakespeare so it makes me feel better about littl'un watching it constantly!

But I suspect Iggle Piggle has a bigger blanket than before...

Neighbours

Our bleedin' neighbours are doing my nut in. They have put their house up for sale and although at first I was worried about who would replace them, now I'm wishing for a nice old couple who want to grow veg and sit in their garden with a pet dog. There is no interest at all in their house and I so wish there was. They were away recently and it was only when they came back that I realised how much NOISE they make! They have 2 kids which is fair enough, but if my kid spent hours in the garden just shrieking randomly I would tell him to bloody shut up, never mind if it was bothering other people! Then the bloke has a voice that could peel paint off the walls and it carries for miles and miles. We can't sit in our garden really as they are always there talking LOUDLY and there is no peace. I feel like they conned me by promising to move and then not doing! (Though when they have eventually moved and we've got worse people in don't remind me!)

I do wonder if it is me. They are by no means the worst neighbours we've ever had, that would probably be the awful couple who lived above me once in Croydon, but that's a whole other story. I just wish we could have a nice detached house in the middle of a park and be able to live in peace, and even possibly sit outside and read a book once in a while. I might just start playing music on a big boom box instead, it probably wouldn't be as noisy!

When you are tired of tv...

...are you tired of life?! Being at home and not having to enter the rat race means that over the months since Baby Babs arrived I have watched an inordinate amount of rubbish television. But now something strange has happened. Instead of leaving daytime tv on in the background, only now and then tutting at the utter banality of it all, now I can't bear to leave it on. Which in a way is a Good Thing. But now what do I do?! Even in the evenings tv is SOOO depressing, Mr Babs and I have finally broken our Hollyoaks addiction, we can't have watched it for at least a month now which is bloody brilliant and my mind feels more wholesome already. I think it was the sheer depression of everything that was happening in it, if watching a program makes you feel like crap, why watch it?! Everyone is miserable, dying, faking death, cheating somebody or something blah blah blah. I inadvertently caught an episode of Eastenders on Friday night. Some character's fiance was murdered on the night before the wedding, and his son (not hers) said that he hated her and that he would rather go into care than stay with her. She recently survived her house being blown up and a stalker and now this! Welcome to the weekend!

The only thing we watch is mind enlarging quiz shows or topical news comedy shows in the hope of at least learning something. We might have to take up ballroom dancing or something ridiculous. I can see my life ebbing away and all I'll have to show for it is an impressive knowledge of CJ's many hair styles on Eggheads.

The other half...

I was invited for coffee to the house of a mum I know. She is part of a group that are always doing expensive day out type things and I always cry off for lack of funds, but I thought I could manage going to her house for once. For one thing, Baby Babs loved playing with the other kids, and for another we all got to moan about our other halves. Anyway, I knew this lady had a lovely big house having been there once before, but when I got there this time she said all matter of factly; "Oh I'd get you a cup of tea but my cleaner's in at the moment, I'll have to wait until she's finished". I was half expecting her then to say; "and my butler doesn't start till 10" but she didn't. Then she confided that the cleaner was her husband's ex-wife, and she had employed her for 6 months before he found out!! What a ploy!! And she does her ironing. I am going so wrong somewhere...