K8 the GR8

I’m officially completely self-sufficient!

I’ve just learned how to de-cap a bottle of beer with a cigarette lighter!!!  No more sheepish passing of bottles to men when in bottle opener crisis!

I’m so happy, I’m gonna go and have another beer.  Gawd bless Tescos and their special offers!  Up yours Harney!  Up yours Diagio!

Y’know what they say - Practish maks prefect… *hic*

(Oodles of thanks to TAT and his esoteric teachings!)

While queuing up for a space in Tesco’s carpark in Wicklow Town, I noticed a little boy in the car in front with his elbows resting on the parcel shelf, facing me.

We locked eyes for a moment.

He held up his left hand, stuck out his pinkie finger, then gave me the thumbs up.  In return, I stuck out the pinkie finger on my right hand, then gave him the thumbs up back.

A few seconds later, a distant explosion could be heard in the direction of the harbour.  The kid winked and tapped his nose.

Espionage agents are getting awful young these days.

I’m giving some serious consideration to the incorporation of two new things in my life.

The problem is, they’re both very much taboo, so I don’t want to say what they actually are.

Instead, here are some pretty obvious clues: 

(Before you ask, no I’m not thinking of changing sexes.)
 

New thing #1:

-Men have been doing this since we arrived on the planet, yet women are rarely seen doing it.
-If you were to see a woman doing this on the street, you would stop and stare, giggle, and nudge your friends.
-It has nothing to do with having a penis, or having strength.
-It involves the ingestion of a drug.
-It is a far healthier method of ingesting this drug than the method I’m currently using.
-There is absolutely no reason why men should do this but women shouldn’t.
-If my father should find out that I’m doing this, he would be pretty proud!
-You can’t do this in places of work.
-There are famous women who proudly do this, including Shari Belafonte, Janet Jones, Andie MacDowell, and Sadie B. Hawkins (who I’ve had absolutely no luck googling, but I have a picture of her doing this thing topless which I may or may not show you later, depending on how nice you are to me).
-Men seem to harbour a secret fantasy that more women should do this.

(Dad, keep schtum.  I know you know what I’m on about!)

New thing #2:

-I bought a book on this subject a few years back.  When it was spotted by various people, their reaction was usually negative, along the lines of ‘Don’t go near this shit; my (fill in the blank) did this and she changed for the worse!’
-It was very popular in older cultures, yet people were severely punished for it.
-It is an absolutely fascinating subject to me and to others, though they might not admit it.
-For the most part, it involves a group of people all doing this together.
-If you put this on your C.V., most companies would kick you out before the interview even got started.
-It’s not a religion, though there are parts of it that involve simialar practices.
-Several films have been made on this subject, the ones that I know of are mostly chick-flicks, though gender doesn’t really have that much to do with it.
-You have probably met a handful of people who do this, though you wouldn’t necessarily know it.
-The general consensus is that people don’t believe in this, though they are still afraid/respectful of it.
-It is heavily stereotyped.

-o-

So whatcha think?  Are you disgusted or confused? Enthralled or indifferent?

-o-

If you’re completely mind-boggled and feel like staring into space for a bit to think it over, then I have just the thing for you:

This.

Alternatively, if you really couldn’t be bothered, here’s some random comedy:

And a super special cartoon just for me aul’ pair:

-o-

(A very short while later….)

Congratulations to Robert (get well soon :) and Deborah!!! 

New thing #1 is, indeed, smoking a pipe.  And, as promised, here is that picture of topless Sadie B. Hawkins thus proving that pipe smoking can be a very sexy affair altogether!

Don’t believe me?  Consult Better Living through Chemistry!

Deborah, you got it, by bingo.  New thing #2 which I’m considering having a serious look into is Wicca.

What’s the worst thing that can happen… right? 

(Try to think outside the boxymoron before you answer that.)

Move along, people… there’s a virtual knees-up at mum’s gaff today, and I wouldn’t want you to miss it -

HAPPY BIRTHDAY MAMMY!!!

 ~{}~

Here’s a happy lady with her grandson and some handsome young f’la that wandered by and took a shine to her.

*Bless*

~{}~

Here’s a bit of pseudo-science for you.

I’m sure you’ve been in the position before where you feel dry in the creativity department.  You’re looking at a blank page and you have no clue what to write about.  This frustrates you and you wonder why you were brimming with the joys of life last week but today for some reason, you just couldn’t be arsed.

Or perhaps you’re just back from a brief walk to the shops, and you suddenly feel like you could happily climb a mountain, though you haven’t had much coffee today.  The following week you return from the same shops and slump on the couch, unable to even lift a magazine.

Somedays you might feel like you could learn Japanese in a week, yet other days you find yourself reading the same sentence in your favourite book fifteen times, with a total inability to concentrate.

‘Yep, I hear you sister!’… you might say.  But what’s it all about?  Why the rollercoaster?

The answer is very simple, and is completely out of your control. 

Biorhythm generator

From the moment you were born, a cycle started.  It’s regular and predictable.  There are three main cycles governing your day-to-day life, which are physical, emotional, and intellectual. 

When you click on the link and enter your birthdate, you’ll be able to find out exactly where you stand in each category, and can then plan your day around it.  Not only that, but you can enter a date in the future to find out if, for example at your cousin’s wedding next week, you’ll be dancing the night away or insulting your relatives with gusto! 

How handy is that?!?!

Complete bollocks or the dog’s bollocks?  You decide.

There’s a row of houses on the bend of our quiet council housing estate which were built at the beginning of this year.  Our residents have been wondering why it is that people haven’t moved into them yet, and have come to the conclusion that said unknown residents are simply too scared to move in.  They’re most likely waiting for the travellers at no.’s 2, 5, and 7 to move out first.  Between you and me, I don’t reckon on this happening too soon.  They’ve made themselves a nice little niche in the neighbourhood, and are sitting pretty.

Today, however, I decided to go on a wee jaunt to the local shops with my children, and noticed some new arrivals.  Laughing boy was loaded into his wheelchair, his shoes left off and his hair unbrushed and ruffled.  Puppychild wore her gingham blouse and dungarees, true hillbilly style.  She sat on laughing boy’s lap with her trusted blankent for emotional support, and off we went.

As I passed the virgin houses, I noticed not one, but two families pooching around investigating their new homes.  As I continued to the bottom of the housing estate, I saw that travellerville was in full swing.  A group of young men were huddled by the fence discussing their fortunes while small children raced around in circles with their greyhound.  An old traveller woman was washing the cabin of a HGV, and an ice-cream van hovered nervously near the entrance to the estate, presumably gathering his marbles.

Our housing estate seems to have a very bad reputation.  I have absolutely no idea why, as I’m not aware of any trouble connected to our residents, though I know how people’s imaginations can invent scandals with no help at all from true fact, as I discovered the last time I got a taxi home.  Not only did he not want to drive into the estate, but he almost refused to let me out of his car.  After I had convinced him that I was fine to walk home in the dark, that it really is an o.k. place to live, he told me I was the bravest young lady he’d ever met, which was nice.

The travellers around here remind me of bees.  They go about their business, and won’t bother you if you don’t bother them.  Today I got a few waves and nods, probably because the sun brings out the friendliness in folks, and these particular folks are well used to the sight of me pushing my scraggly kids up and down their road.  I’d even go as far as to say that this is the safest place I’ve ever lived in, that if anyone wanted to choose a good house to break into, it would definately NOT be one of ours.  We are protected by the most affluent, most influential minority group in Ireland.  If you’re Irish, and you recognise the word ‘Moorehouse’, you’ll know why. 

On my way back uphill from the shops, I reached the virgin house corner hot, red-faced and tired.  A few of the new heads turned to look at this odd sight, and just as they did, something made me yell ‘Wahaya lookanah?!’ at the top of my voice in my best traveller accent.  I then winked and moved on.

These people need to be broken in.  We can’t have them increasing the tone of the neighbourhood.