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Showing posts from June, 2014

Teenage Troubles

If you have a teenage son, you'll probably appreciate this. I know I do. Ho hum.


To be British, is to be Patient - Ten Examples of British Stoicism

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I may have talked about this before - a peculiar characteristic of being British is being very patient and stoic even in the most difficult of times. But I am going to revisit this subject again as needs must. You'll find out why later. I would say I am a very patient person - although I am getting less so as I get older as my tolerance to ignorance grows shorter. (Please refer to the 500+ posts on this blog for details.)

So anyway enough about me. Lets look at some examples of this peculiar British habit:

1.

It goes without saying that at the top of the examples list is the British habit of waiting patiently in a queue. Sometimes people wait in queues for whole days outside Harrods at sale-time or sleep on the pavements outside Buckingham Palace for a glimpse of HRH. There is no greater crime in the UK than queue-jumping. Try it and you will be met with scathing looks or, at the very least, whispers about being mentally unstable, drunk or "not from around here." If you a…

Groovy, Baby

No words necessary.

A Eye-Opening Question

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How is it possible to own so many pairs of reading glasses and not be able to find a single pair?

I am almost embarrassed to mention the exact number of pairs. They're not all prescription glasses (just in case you think I'm loaded) I have two pairs from the 99p shop, several pairs from the "slightly better packaging almost 99p shop" and then there's some others from the cheap chemist...

And I can't find a single pair.

Grr.

In  desperation, I have taken to wearing glasses on my head and on a string around my neck like some mad old biddy. 

But most of the time that doesn't work either.

I doomed, doomed to an old age squinting at pictures and print whilst unintentionally signing myself up for constipation supplements. 

Doomed, I tell you.

I'm also tired of checking for the whereabouts of my glasses by tapping myself on the head which causes people to think I'm some sort of fruitcake. They should be grateful I don't stick my tongue out and sing "It&…

Senility Strikes

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Yesterday, I got into my car and drove to Tesco Express (an open-all-hours supermarket in the UK) with the intention of buying some food to make a spaghetti bolognese for tea. Food stocks are currently low in the Turley household and, as I hadn't fancied doing a big shop earlier in the day, drastic action was called for at 7pm.

Unfortunately, whilst I was driving I forgot that's what I was planning to do and drove past Tescos Express and back home again.

Tea was a minimal affair. Formal complaints were lodged and duly noted. I shall be producing a roast chicken and spuds today.

The Importance of Tea... and Kettles

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Now because my life is so exciting I need to report that I have a new kettle arriving today via Amazon prime delivery.

This is because my other kettle has gone all hormonal on me.

Sometimes it boils, sometimes it doesn't.

Sometimes I have to hold down the all systems "go" button. Sometimes I don't.

Yeah, I know all this "on and off" stuff sounds like foreplay. But let me assure you, dear readers, my kettle never, ever, turns on by itself.

Which is a pity because, as any woman knows, turning on by yourself can be a real bonus. Men seem to have a far greater capacity for turning on by themselves though which is not very fair.

Still, it's not always a good thing to turn on remotely when you're in the gym. Or the office. Or down the pub. Or in the cinema.

Question: is there anywhere a man cannot turn on by himself?

Hmm. Let me think about that.

I'd like to say "public lavatories". But I'm afraid George Michael put at end to my idea of …