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Sunday, 20 May 2012


I awoke early this morning.  My Beloved was snoring and dribbling gently into her pillow beside me.

I managed to get out of bed without waking her, and crept through to the bathroom, where I promptly managed to blow all the light fuses in the house.  (It's actually quite easy.  Just flick the light switch until it starts to arc.  I would also recommend wearing rubber gloves for this stage)

It's early winter down here, and it's still really dark at 7:30am, so after spraying the general toilet area (no more details.  We've all been there) in the darkness, I tried to find the proper fuse box to start the fault finding process.  Unfortunately, the fuse box was outside the house, under the front porch, so I shuffled off there in my dressing gown.

Bloody Hell, it was a bit chilly.

Luckily, I'd replaced the old fuse wire-based fuses with modern circuit breakers, so it only took me seconds to find and replace the fault.

Grinning to myself, I almost thumped my chest Tarzan-fashion.

Man good.

Man find problem.

Man fix problem.

Man not good, Man great, Man is best thing in Universe.

HhhhhhrrrrrraaaaaaHHHHHH!!!" ...

Oh Shit

Oh Shit.

Man, the Greatest thing in the Universe, had locked himself out of his own f*cking house.

Did I mention it was cold?

I managed to awaken m'son from his deep dreams of wine women and wimps (He's a child of the 21st century, so it's not really his fault.)

Actually in a brief aside, anyone born in the 21st century believes that no matter what happens, it's not their fault.  It's all our fault, the oldies, those born in the last century.

Eventually got back inside to the warm, m'son resentful for wakening him by throwing pebbles at his face through the open window, which he has to leave open to allow the stench of rotten and decomposing socks to escape. 
He showed real sullen fed-upness to me.  Christ, doesn't the modern generation ever show gratitude to us for raising them in a warm loving environment?

Thanked him with fixed grin.  He straggled off, back to his repository of bodily effluvia, known as his bed.


What could I have for breakfast?

I know, peanuts.  My Beloved had opened a bag last night so they were then available to me under the inviolable rule of previously opened by Her, therefore now fair game.

So I sat there watching another superb Sir David Attenborough nature documentary, sipping my morning coffee and nibbling from a bowl of peanuts.

Then my Beloved got up, made her morning "eye of Newt and toe of Frog" brew, and came through to where I was watching Humpback whales devouring shoals of Pacific Herring.

"What are you eating dear?" she asked.

Me: "Herrin...sorry, peanuts my Dear"

MB: "Why?

Me: "I just felt like eating some peanuts"

MB: "Don't you think it's a bit early for peanuts?"

Me: "No"

MB: "I wish you'd eat more appropriate foods at the appropriate times"

Me: "Hmph"

MB: "Don't you agree?"

Me: "Well, actually, no" "What's the difference between eating these peanuts and eating peanut butter on toast like I normally do?"

MB: "Hmph"

RESULT!  Once again my irrefutable logic has scored a massive point differential for all of mankind.

I do know of course that this victory of logic over ladies will have to be re-paid, in full, with about 1000% interest at sometime in the future.

But at the moment it's worth it.

It's definitely worth it.


  1. Of course payback is a thousand fold. We wouldn't have it any other way. Now I'm off to click all those fab photos on your blog, bitch at hubby for his choice of evening fare and laugh my way through your posts. Great blog.

    1. Many thanks, GPD, and thanks for leaving a comment. Could I please ask, how did you find m'blog?

      Please don't bitch at hubby, you know he's trying his best, distracted as he is by your magnificent body.

      Enjoy the photos, laugh at the comments, and feel just at home.

      PS. Be careful. Sometimes I am prone to use bad language

  2. I know that rule - the one about anything she opens is fair game. Anything unopened is best left that way unless you can find a replacement real soon. I've tried that with the almost forbidden Moro bars in the freezer. When replacing them I didn't pay enough attention to the 'flavour' so it didn't go unnoticed, which reminds me, why do thse marketers feel they have to have line extentions of old favourites, making 'caramel' or 'fudge' versions of something that has stood the tests of time prety well. All they are doing is splitting their market, increasing their overheads and putting loyal customers at risk .....oops sorry, that sounds like a blog rave.

    1. Ahh, the case of the mis-replaced borrowed items.

      Been there.
      Seen the film.
      Got the f*cking T-shirt.

      Nowadays, I take pictures of all I "replace" on my phone's camera just to make sure I get all the details correct.

      I also don't know, like you, on why the marketers are continually fiddling with tried and tested products.

      I don't want caramel filled Kitikat biscuits.
      I don't want Marmite mixed with cream cheese.
      I just want the bloody originals.
      *sob* *kicks stupid caramel-filled kitikat biscuit which doesn't snap with a clean-sounding break, but goes "splodge"*

      Don't worry about a rave.
      Worry about a rant.

  3. Very brave TSB, but probably quite foolish of you to assert your mastery like that, man you will pay and pay bigtime...

    1. Thanks for that prediction Tempo, and it so happens that you're right.

      My Beloved has just had a huge go at me regarding my irregular swimmimg hours.


  4. I do agree with her in a sense. I think you should be eating luxurious foods at all times.

    1. Excellent point. I'll demand pate de fois gras AND peanuts on black bread with Normandy butter next time.

      The bread will have to be a frshly baked ficille.
      The butter unsalted, from Isigny-sur-Mer.
      The fois gras from Caen.
      The bread (la ficille) from Le Grenier à Pain in Rue des Abbesses, Paris.

      I have studied.
      I have drooled.
      I have tasted. *swoon*

  5. I've got a key in a flowerpot in the back yard. It's saved me on numerous occasions--less noble than yours--when for a reason unconnected with the amount of Robinson's Old Tom (8.5%) that has been imbibed, I arrive at my front door minus my phone, cards, keys and the part of my brain that handles memory functions.

    1. Good idea, shows forethought. I also have a key hidden on the premises. Unfortunately, I've hidden it so well I can't find the f*cking thing.
      And I can't even use excess ber consumption as an excuse.

      That last bit about lacking brain functons I can relate to. I've just finished teaching my 14 year olds.

      I still admire the original Theakston's Old Peculiar.

  6. This is cool. I did not realize I can post on other blogs too!

    1. Oh God, Richard's figments are spreading.
      Can somebody not invent a vaccine?

  7. I locked myself out once ... there was about 4 ft of snow on the ground and I had a tshirt, jeans and slippers on... oh yes I had a hammer in my hand... I walked to my inlaws about half a mile away to get the key, surprised I wasn't arrested!

    1. I'm surprised you weren't arrested as well. I thought walking in snow with slippers attracted at least a £500 fine.

  8. Peanutbutter on toast is somehow more comforting than plain peanuts, but to each his own.

    1. Actually I agree. But for some reason I just didn't want any toast that morning, and the peanuts were roasted and salted.
      One of my favourite sandwich fillings is peanut butter, cheese and tomatoes.

  9. I painted a bathroom and fixed a broken hoover this weekend. I could feel my testosterone levels rise with each turn of the Philips head screwdriver.

    Charge your son rent. He'll develop a whole new respect for you. My daughter is 10 and I'm starting rent charges next year.

    I often spread peanut butter on toast. Same difference.

    1. Excellent. It's amazing how much more "manly' we feel when using tools. When power tools are included, I can actually feel the hair grow on my chin. (and fall of my scalp)

      When I use a Torx head in my 18v recahrgeable drill, I have to go back in and change to a bigger set of boxers.

      I do charge my son rent, but he eats so much, and uses so much bandwidth that I'm still out of pocket. But I still feel guilty about charging him at all. Maybe when he reaches 30, I might reconsider.

      I agre about the peanut butter. Although I do like to spread a thick layer of dairy butter first. Adds a certain unctuousness.

    DISNEY gives it on RICK the PRICK?
    JESTOCCO- JEB BUSH gave it long ago and he gave it with CHER.
    So did RED PATHS.

    1. I don't know if this is deranged person, a drunk or just an increadibly badly scripted spam.

      I haven't heard such increadible gobbeldygook since GW Bush's last speech or that scene in Blazing Saddles.

  11. Peanuts are an accommodating food and care not a whit when you eat them.

    Only that you do.


    1. Thanks for visiting Pearl, and leaving a comment.

      Peanuts are accommodating. Really good bed-time snack food, except, how is it tiny little bits end up under the sheets.

      I prefer cashews and macademias, but I can't often afford them, being a poor teacher.

    2. I recall my parents took me to "Drinks" at a their friends place one afternoon when I was a wee nipper. That is the day I discovered the joy of peanuts. I ate heaps. SO many, in fact too many. When we got home it was dark and time for bed. We had no carpet on our floors back then, just varnished floorboards. Suddenly before getting into my cosy wee bed I chundered. Out came all those half digested peanuts. Clunk clunck clunk all over the wooden floor boards. Mum was not impressed but relieved it was not carpet I had thrown up over. Dad just laughed. But he would because he was probably pissed. Still remember it vividly nearly 50 years later! Still love my peanuts too, but careful not to eat too many!

  12. That Anonymous comment sounds like Second Fiddle after a few home brews

  13. The key in the flowerpot comment reminds me of when I was in South Africa.
    A group of us had been to the rugby at the world cup and were in high spirits (NZ walked all over England - literally in the case of Jonah Lomu) and we arrived very late at the hotel/guest house we were booked into. All the management had departed and the premises and locked up. We hammered and hollered to no avail. Scouting around I checked the flower pots and sure enough found a key, opened up, turned all the lights on (it was a big place), found room keys and we all went to bed. Next morning the management were extremely surprised that we were there, were astounded that there had been a hidden key and told us that a two German couples had barricaded themselves in their rooms and didn't sleep for fear of being murdered (It was South Africa after all).
    What fun!

    1. I tried the flowerpots, but only found slugs, and they didn't open the locks. Mollusc fail.

      I'm surprised you survived that experience. I would have thought that the management would have put a load of buckshot through the door, it being SOuth Africa after all)

  14. That Anonymous comment sounds like Second Fiddle after a few home brews

    1. Hmm... have you been on the homebrews as well?
      or have you caught a variant of Richard's double commenting bug.


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