The Witty Ways of a Wayward Woman

We have an expression in the UK "dressed to kill" which is an expression for basically making the most of your appearance and trying to look as attractive as possible.

Now when you reach my grand old age of 55, dressing to kill takes some skill. It's also preferable to have a large glass of gin before you look in the mirror. Because you look a lot better when your vision is blurred. You can also try and kid yourself you're only 39. I have been telling my boys I am 39 for years. I don't think they believe me any more. Well, not since the tooth fairy quit.

Now, even though I'm past my prime, when I go to work, I attempt to look as smart as possible with clean, pressed clothes and fresh make-up. I find a trowel is excellent for putting on my foundation and a kids' washable thick felt-tip pen great for eyeliner. (If you've not got one of those try a permanent marker and save yourself a daily chore. I also recommend a mirror which at least X20 magnificatio…

After my post on A where I explored the use of shrivelled apples in my fridge in this time of lockdown, I thought you might like to see one of my other creative recipes.

So basically, last week when I was looking desperately in the fridge to see what concoction I could manufacture from the rotting contents, I discovered two well-past-the sell-by-date cabbages. You know, where the outer leaves have gone yellow and look as appetising as a snot-covered handkerchief.

Anyway, times are hard. So, I tossed the cabbages in the air with gay abandonment and consulted my recipe book for a dish where the ingredients consisted of two mouldy old cabbages and very little else.

Sadly, there were none. I did think about disguising the mouldiness in vinegar and making sauerkraut. However, I've got to be honest, pickled cabbage holds no appeal to me. I gather sauerkraut is a German dish - so maybe I shouldn't be surprised it's only marginally less offensive than a blitzkrieg.

So, folks. I se…

I had a look back at my previous B posts for the A to Z and saw that I'd come withBullshit(a personal favourite) Brighton Cock (a spin on Brighton Rock, the novel by Grahame Greene),  Balls and Breasts and Balderdash.

An eclectic choice, I feel.

So, to live up to my previous posts I decided to opt for the words Baloney and Bog Rolls. Now, in order to make sure I am not misinforming people I decided to check out the definition of baloney. I discovered there were in fact, three definitions.

The first is a sausage, the second is a resident of Bologna, Italy. The third fundamentally describes this blog which means nonsense.

So, to incorporate the two themes have come with an (almost) nonsense poem:

Bog Rolls.

Bog Rolls, I like them.

Soft and cushy on my bottom.

It's a pity I don't have any

'Cos some fucker at Sainsbury's bought the lot.

 I hope they get diarrhoea

Which runs down their leg

And smells like putrified egg

Then I will be happy

Even as I wear my nappy.


As I s…

So, here I am on April Fool's Day back here on my blog unprepared, as ever, to participate in the A to Z. I have zero ideas what I am going to write about so as usual this is where I say to myself:

Oh crap, why did you commit to this? You arsehole, Turley.

Hmm. Arsehole. I suppose I could make a blog out of that.

Mind you, that wouldn't be very lady-like. And, possibly, as any post using the word arsehole might make reference to Mr Trump it might alienate my lovely American readers. So, no can do.

Oh okay, let clutch at some straws.

Apples?

Okay, they're round and green. Sometimes red. Even a bit pinkish. They can be crunchy. They are super for making cider from though. If only I had some cider...

Oh, and a couple of hours ago, I found some old wrinkled apples that kinda looked like shrivelled testicles in the back of my fridge. Now in normal circumstances, I would probably try to lob them into the bin from about 2 metres but because of the extraordinary circumstances the w…

On April 1st, which is April Fool's Day here in the UK, this blog reopens for business as I rejoin the virtual world in the April A to Z blogging challenge.

So whilst you are in lockdown, gnashing your teeth on the last of your dried cream crackers and wiping your arse on the pages of Fifty Shades of Grey, you can join me here on The Witty Ways of a Wayward Woman where I shall be providing my own unique view on the world as I see it. We've got a lot to talk about.

As usual, there will be no rhyme or reason to any of the subject matters I will tackle. It will be whatever pops into my mind on the day. And if I'm bored and my brain is befuddled, I will be posting pictures of hunky men in their underpants.

So nothing to lose then by dropping by if you're a woman. If you're a man, brace yourself it could be a bumpy ride.

And if there's anyone who wants to throw a topic into the brewing pot now. Drop me a line below.

I was clearing down some of my emails this morning while I was looking for a particular email and came across a number of emails dating back to my early blogging days. It brought me back here to my blog and remembering the immense fun I used to have blogging and reading blogs from all around the world. Sadly, most of those blogs have now died out.
After 12 years of blogging, I don't want mine to die out, so here I am with an update. 
In October, my Decree Nisi was passed by the Family Court. It has taken this long as I have had far too many problems and obstacles to overcome - getting divorced was the least of my problems.
For example, since September 2016, I have had 7 jobs. 
Job no 1 (4 months) - Left to join a rival company (Job no 2) for a higher salary. The company sub-contracted me to another. (Job 3)
After 3 months the company, I was originally contracted to (Job 2) went into administration. Several days later, the company I had been subcontracted to offered me employment which …