Who needs a babysitter?
Tourist culling at Grandad’s house is about to get interesting.
Wouldye Groomidge
My dog is applying for a nursery rhyme re-write.
Please adapt your kid’s books accordingly.
Jedding Witters
Definition of Wedding: (w
d
ng)
n
a. The act of remembering to take labels off new shoes.
b. The placing of deodorant under one’s boobs to stop wedding dress chafe.
c. The consumption of vast amounts of Rescue Remedy and Champagne.
d. Trying not to burst into flames upon entering the Church.
e. The act of finally uniting a dysfunctional family and starting a brand new family tree!
Wish me luck?
How the button found its way into the piggybank
You know when you’re clearing out the stuff drawer, or searching for fallen batteries underneath the couch or de-cluttering windowsills and you find bits? Screws, paperclips, strange coins, hinges, BB-gun pellets and batteries (that could be dead or fully charged, it’s anyone’s guess), y’know, that sort of thing… what do you do with them? I’m dying to know. Do you have clutter jars full of odd things growing dusty or do you pocket them till you find their homes only to have to empty your jeans at night into a miniature bedside skip?
Or…do you just throw them out? But *gasp* what if you need them later?! What then? WHAT THEN?!?!
How to win sex-toys and influence people
So my prize arrived in the post yesterday morning!! The postman raised an eyebrow as I signed for it and I knew right then and there that he had ESP. The Accidental Terrorist’s eyebrow raised even higher as I unclothed its packaging and since then, well… he’s getting a great buzz out of it let’s just say.
What? Oh yeah!!!
I WON!!!
(Just in time for the honeymoon, too, heheh)
Jealous? So you should be. Have a shot at it, you know you want to!
Also you should have a visit of www.sex-toys.ie… if not at least just to find out what a finger flipper is?! I accidentally left the browser open one day while carefully choosing my prize… TAT’s friend and a few visiting plumbers from the County Council copped an eyeful and gave me some seriously strange looks when I returned from the shop, especially when I offered them a cup of the hot stuff… ah well. It’s not like my reputation wasn’t shot to hell already.
This is the winning post in which I confess things I probably shouldn’t have, but am mighty glad I did now, I tells ya:
Long live on-line filth!
The chicken who almost crossed the road
What made her do it?
-Was it the recession? Did stress stem her egg production and lead her to suicide?
-Did she really want to know what was on the other side?
-Was she the victim of a dare?
All I know is that I was minding my own business driving at a fair lick on the N11 when a brown streak ran underneath my fore-left tyre and died quickly. My rear view mirror showed a cloud of brown feathers as the articulated truck behind almost crashed. It was as though somebody shot a pillow point-blank.
I was involved in a hit-and-run, and I feel terrible.
That’s all I have to say about that.
PS. Shortly afterwards I was to be found wandering down the median strip of a dual-carriageway on a completely unrelated matter. If you beeped at a lady wearing a white hoodie and looking very confused, that was me. I’ve had a very weird morning, but you’ve probably already gathered that.
Bray School Project Roof-Raiser Fundraiser Gig
Here’s positivity for you. Our schools are falling apart and funds have run dry, but instead of complaints, solidarity reigns and rock and roll rules. If you’re around Bray on Thursday night, you can see it for yourself. Enter the mosh-pit and help raise the roof!
Bray School Project Roof-Raiser Fundraiser Gig
WHEN: Thursday 2nd April, 7pm
WHERE: Greystones Theatre
WHY: To help raise funds for a new school roof
WHO: The Juice, The Cujo Family, Blind Yackety
Tickets are €10, from BSP Office/Box Office/Door
Don't break my child
Today I be mostly writing up an instruction manual for Laughingboy for the babysitters while I’m away at the Blog Awards.
So far there are thirty two pages.
Who says kids don’t come with manuals?!?! Mine does, and it’s a pain in the ass trying to remember how he works. It’s like trying to describe how to operate a stick-shift.
After all, our babysitters are both male… one is a DHL delivery man, the other is a chef. They have never looked after my kids before, nor do they know what they’re getting themselves into. I think they’re planning a party while we’re away…. heheh… good luck, lads.
Trippy
Pretty! It’s like a magic-eye picture only without all the hassle…
February's Dog's Bollocks
This month’s Dog’s Bollocks award goes to the man who came up with the following statements:
My inner caveman desires wide open spaces to hunt, not fucking Tesco whispering ‘Every little helps’ in my shell-like while getting busy Shawshank Redemption style on my butt.
and…
Yes, I am pissed again, but this time I am cross too. Cross at the little scumbags that fecked a bottle at me from the bus as it went past when I was walking home. Missed me. Fuckers. Hope your knobs fall off.
and…
“I like to think of it in terms of a society having a goal, this helps define individual purpose. If a society has a common goal, as can be brought about by a disaster or crisis, people pull together and have a purpose, they have the freedom to act to make their world better. In the case of negative freedom, it become random and base. People revert to their fundamental nature, consuming and rutting and fighting, with or without a thin veneer of civilisation”
Right on, brother.
Thrift Criminal, you’re a great buzz, your posts are clever and with a unique sort of humour… please don’t bugger off in March and have us fend for ourselves!! I don’t know what I’d do without your smartarse comments in my inbox.
We’ll miss you something rotten. You’re the Dog’s Bollocks mate.
