Morticia is a a friend. Yeah she’s always been a good friend of mine. But lately something’s changed that ain’t hard to define, Morticia’s got herself a girl and i wannna make her mine.
No, wait… I think that’s Jesse. I always get those two mixed up.
Morticia is actually a friend of Kerry’s, although she has been commenting here long enough to be counted as my friend too I reckon. I’ve only met her in person once. We went to a Barenaked Ladies gig with her and her beloved Mr Pops, but she seems like a jolly good egg. Especially since she was kind enough to persuade her entire office to give some money to our Dales Walk.
In this guest post Morticia is attempting to break the world record for longest ever blog entry, clocking in at one thousand three hundred and eleven words. Unfortunately she just misses out to Xbox4NappyRash who recently racked up a staggering three thousand four hundred word on his diatribe about why Colgate toothpaste is superior to Aquafresh.
It’s all high quality stuff though. So why don’t you pull up a coffin, pore yourself a cup of tea from your Diana memorial teapot, and enjoy a little slice of Mortica.
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Lady Diane, Free Tibet Protesters versus the Olympic Torch and other
ramblings…..
Well I for one feel better that almost 7 million pounds of taxpayers money has been spent on the inquest into Lady Diane’s death. Not.
No doubt though, the conspiracy theory lovers out there are already cooking up the ways in which this inquest has been fiddled and nobbled by various shadowy security forces on the instructions of the Royal Family.
Mohammed Al Fayed appears to have backtracked from his position at the start of the inquest of ‘I will accept the verdict of this jury’ to something resembling his starting place of ‘all those who gave evidence are liars, MI5 are behind it all on the instructions of Prince Phillip, they told me they were engaged and she was pregnant….’
Why can’t it be accepted that if you get into a car being driven at high speed by someone drunk who is trying to avoid photographers and you don’t wear a seatbelt then chances are you will hit something and come to considerable harm/death. Even if you are a princess.
Those set of circumstances - failure to wear a seatbelt, drunk driving fall into my category of ‘no sh+t Sherlock’ and no doubt Sherlock himself would have been appalled at the waste of time, public funds and energy expended on this inquest, he’d have reached the same conclusion quicker than I can type ‘He never did say its elementary my dear Watson’ in the books.
I wonder if the man who went to the inquest and painted or got his sister to paint on his face ‘Diana’ in blue paint, because she came to him and he knew thats what she would have wanted thought of the outcome though. I shall have to see if he’s interviewed in the Daily Fail tomorrow.
I didn’t see any news today but I did hear a very impassioned protester on the radio shouting ‘Liberte Pour La Tibet’ earlier, somehow it sounded all the more powerful and strong for being shouted in french. It seems the protests in France did more to disrupt the procession too as I heard the torch had to be put out and put on a bus at one point.
I saw bits of the torch’s progress on the news yesterday though, bet all those police people having to run alongside it were knackered.
I win at being housewifey today too, as I did lots of ironing, made some soup and prepared some parsnip and celeriac for dinner and then Mr Pops cooked the dead cow to go with it and I made some rolled oat cookies too. Normal service of get in and watch re-runs of the human effluent known as Jeremy Kyle on ITV2 will resume tomorrow.
I was watching Batman last night - god I love Adam West’s voice and even if he is dressed in a silly outfit he still manages to look really quite attractive. In his Batman outfit that is, I don’t want to see him as Bruce Wayne in a jacket and check shirt - that doesn’t show off his chest or his manly chin, it just ruins it.
Anyway I was struck by something he said to Robin after he had rescued him from some very nasty looking but ultimately quite harmless plastic crocodiles. Robin was berating himself for being so stupid as to let King Tut capture him:
“Experience teaches slowly Robin and at the cost of many mistakes”
Wise words indeed.
A friend of mine showed me a whole website devoted to the sage sayings of Batman, I’m not sure if this one was on it but I love it. Think its going to be my new motto along with ‘what would Lady Diane do?’ and ‘que ferait Edith?’ I am also going to be adding ‘what would Amber St Claire do?’ to this category - she is the devilish minxy hero of Forever Amber by Kathleen Windsor, one of the most engrossing reads I’ve read in a long time.
I shall quote it if I wake up with a terrible hangover on Sunday morning after attending a Gin and Whores Part. Part Jack the Ripper Re-enactment but mostly having fun with chums and its thanks to the generosity of chums who are donating a lift and bed for the night that I am able to attend. Providing my stomach doesn’t decide to misbehave wildly between now and then that is. Its been a bit grumbly the past couple of days but hopefully it
won’t get any worse. Grumbly I can manage. Bent over double in intense pain I cannot.
I don’t think there’ll be much ‘ginning’ on my part though as I really can’t drink more than a glass or two of white wine at the moment. There definitely won’t be any whoring on my part either - unless of course Detective Goren, Gene Hunt or Batman attends in which case my vow of fidelity to Mr Pops would be broken quicker than you could say ‘tinker, tailor, soldier, twat’ or ‘to the batmobile’.
Mr Pops made me laugh this morning when I asked him what he had had for his breakfast, he’d said he’d had some toast.
“But we’ve run out of butter*” I said “so what did you put on it?”
He said he’d put marmalade on it and I said ‘eeuuw yuck’ as the thought of toast without butter is anathema to me, so he then said “but its alright I put sh+t on the other piece”.
Thinking of toast though, I’m reminded of toast toppers, I don’t know if you can still get them but they were all the rage at one time - before Pot Noodle became the snack of choice for the feckless, lazy, hungover, non tastebud owning types - little tins of what looked like vomit. I used to buy them and then leave it piled up next to someone who had been horribly drunk the night before to make them think they had thrown up. Ahh memories.
I cannot drive, I have taken lessons before but I was utterly hopeless at it, found it completely terrifying and was just basically crap in a car as anything other than a decorative passenger**. Perhaps if I had learnt when I
was much much younger but alas my parents were too skint at the time to pay for lessons for me and I didn’t think to prioritise having any - choosing instead to spend my very part time job wages on eyeliner and hair dye***.
I am however extremely good at road rage - Mr Pops will vouch for this, although I cannot drive I do know the rules of the road and my road rage at other drivers who do not follow the rules is second to none. However its not fair that Mr Pops has to do all the driving and me do all the shouting so I have decided to give it another go.
Another reason for giving it a go (aside from independence from public transport and so not having to put up with the significant and pungent minority of unwashed that use it, along with those that want to deafen all round them with their bloody awful tinny shit music) is that Mr Pops has promised to buy me a hearse if I pass my test.
That man sure knows how to motivate me :-)
*I’ve been a slack housewife this week and neglected to buy some more.
** I love the lady in the sat nav as she means I don’t have to try and follow maps anymore, even though she does sound like she is saying ‘course’ the roundabout and not ‘cross’ it.
*** not much difference between now and then really…
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