I'm back. I've been gone for a few days as I've been doing a lot of reading and writing a serious article which I've now finished. So, I've got time to write here on my blog. Hurrah, I hear you say!
Okay, maybe not. Maybe a polite round of applause then? Oh come on, don't be so mean spirited, it's nearly Christmas!
The trouble is when I've been away for a while I tend to be a bit maniacal with my writing and I tend to wander off on weird and obscure tangents. Like Samuel Beckett. The Theatre of Absurd. Cornish pasties.
Okay, don't panic I'll leave that stuff to later.... hey I didn't even know I was going to write about Cornish pasties so if you think you're worried try being me! Hmm...I just said I was going to write about Cornish pasties and I have absolutely no idea why.
Anyway, why don't we start off with some music. Here's a great song by the very talented Shania Twain. I find her music and videos quite witty. If you watch the video you'll see what I mean. Also, watch out for her eye makeup because I'll be talking about eye makeup later. (Along with Cornish pasties.)
Wow, that song is fun and it takes the mick out of men too. Great stuff! I'd never do that myself of course because I love men. I even love George Bush - he's done so much over the years to drag me out of my depression.
Anyway, see that eye makeup Shania's got on? I call it "Cleopatra" eyes. All the big starts wear it like that with mascara and eyeliner all over the place. Well, the other day, I thought it was time I looked a bit more glamorous especially as this coming Saturday Mr T and I and the Young Masters are going to a presentation evening where the Young Masters will be picking up a nice bag of trophies. Hey, I couldn't help producing two sporting geniuses could I? It's in the genes! Okay, the fact that my eldest hasn't moved his legs for 10 years because he glued them to his Xbox does sort of ruin my success rate. Still 2/3 sporting geniuses ain't so bad is it?
Oh, and just in case you folks are wondering about how Young Sam is doing at college, he's doing fine. I know this because I rarely hear from him. In fact the other week I realised I hadn't heard from him for two whole weeks and the thought crossed my mind he might, as teenagers as wont to do, be lying in a pool of his own vomit. I therefore plagued him with relentless texts and emails one morning until eventually I elicited this in-depth response by text.
" Yes I'm fine."
There's nothing like a jolly two way conversation is there? Still, it's his birthday later in the month and I'm going over to his university to take him to lunch. Hopefully the conversation will be more than;
"How are you Son?"
"And your Xbox?"
"Meet any girls yet?"
" I bought a new game last week."
" Girls, Sam, Girls. I said; Have you met any girls? They're a bit like Xbox games but they have legs and arms. You can have sex with them."
" What's sex? Is that when you trade in your game?"
" No son. (sigh) Sex is when you lose your sense for a while, discover you've got 3 sons and end up wanting to take a shotgun to your head."
Well back to Cleopatra eyes. So I got up one morning, all was quiet and I decided to play with my makeup. ( Apologies to my male readers for the girl talk. However do not protest too much as I know what you guys play with when you wake up in the morning - and it's not as innocent as makeup.) So I duly painted/ plastered/ sculptured the stuff on till I looked like Sophia Loren on crack. Strange - but familiar.
So there I am happily washing the dishes and doing the morning chores when Mr T finally gets up.( I say " finally gets up" as he just sleeps forever. I swear to God he is related to Rip Van Winkle.) So he's coming down the stairs as I come out the kitchen and he says;
"Oh my God it's Ozzy Ozbourne!"
" I do not look like Ozzy Ozbourne!"
"You do. If I'd woken up in the night whilst you looked like that, I'd probably have stabbed you!"
(Note Readers there is as much chance of Mr T waking in the night as there is of Katie Price not selling her story to Hello every time she breaks wind.)
Well I was duly disconcerted that my attempts to look glamorous had been so casually dismissed so I decided to wait for a second and third opinion from the Young Masters. Hmm... Let's just say that their eyeballs falling out their sockets and their general look of horror was enough to convince me that Cleopatra eyes are not the way to go for Mrs T. In the end, after me parading various eye designs for the males in the household they concluded that my makeup look best....
exactly the way I've been wearing it for the last 30 years.
Brilliant. Sometimes I wish I had a daughter. And that I'd married a woman. Hey, why not? It's a free world!
Right, I'll have to come back to Becket and Cornish pasties as this post has gone on too long and it's already Dec 3rd and I don't have any Chrissie prezzies so I'd better get a move on.
Blimey, I love Amazon. I wonder if they sell spice racks? Mr T said he wanted something "hot" for Christmas.....
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