Before I get onto anything else, here's another reminder that in four days time, next Tuesday the Second of June, it will be Party Time here as this 'ere blog, 'Momentary lapses of insanity...' will be five years old, woohoo!
Yep, very nearly five whole years ago a then friend* said 'Hey, I've started a blog, so should you!'
And so I signed up, chose a name for it and began writing.
And nearly one thousand, eight hundred and twenty five days later, I'm still here and writing.
Bloody hell...I didn't think I'd last a year, and I wouldn't have doned without you lot.
So, that's why next Tuesday I'm holding a Virtual Party here, and you're all invited, rah!

But anyway, that's next week and in the meantime I have something for you to all please put your thinking hats on for and try help me answer something that's been perplexing me.
Yesterday I had gone to meet the Ex-partner-in-crime at the local pub and we'd both gone outside to be anti-social** when I noticed a woman walking towards me wearing a T-Shirt emblazoned with the slogan -

I RND

Being curious, I asked her what the RND stood for, and with a shrug she replied 'I no know!'.
I said something like 'Oh well' and off she went, but ever since I've been wondering WTF RND stands for?
I asked the EPIC what he thought it could be and he came up with -

'Rather Naughty Dalmatians'
'Risky Nodding Dogs' and
'Really Nasty Dinosaurs'

A lady who works in the next door bookies also overheard, and she reckoned RND might stand for -

'Rotting Newts Droppings'
'Really Nasty Doings' or
'Rather Naughty Dormice'

After much a bit of consideration, my suggestions are -

'Really Nasty Diplodicus'
'Rear Numbing Dodgems'
'Rabbits Needing Daffodils' and
'Really Nice Drugs'

and there were some others but I can't remember right now.

And by now I'm sure you can guess what I'm going to ask you next, can't you?
Yep.

I RND.

What, in your opinion, does it stand for?

And if that doesn't tickle your fancy, you can take another quiz and find out 'How Evil You Are' by clicking here.
My results are -

But I'm sure they can't be right, because as everybody knows, I'm a sweet, fluffy girly-girl who'd never even think of doing harm to anybody.
Right?
Good.

And finally, to ease you all into the weekend, here is a little bit of of a musical interlude, performed for your enjoyment by the most excellent Bill Bailey.

(Clicky on piccy for full on viewy pleasure!)
Oh, and also this, which makes me Roffle like a loony every time I listen to it.

TTFN, have as fab a weekend as you possibly can, and may the deity of your choice accompany you.



*Was I thought a 'best friend' but turned out they didn't want to know me when I was depressed and said they would talk to me when the 'Happy Misty' came back. But if they're reading this, I would very much like to say 'Thank You!' because if it hadn't been for them, I'd never have made so many wonderful friends like all you fabulous, darling, shnuggly and above all supportive lot what keep coming back here and being excellent!
**We were not having a cigarette, we were shouting and swearing at passers-by.

On misunderstandings.

Many moons ago when I was about three years old, my mother would make all her own clothes; not because she had to, just she liked to.
She also went through a phase of dying fabric and wool so that she could get her outfits exactly the way she wanted them and one of my earliest memories is of sitting in the kitchen surrounded by swathes of drying cloth and cut out patterns.

Anyway, one day my mother was busy upstairs with a new batch of cloth and had left me downstairs to my own devices.
After a while the 'phone rang and as my mother was ups to her elbows in hot, wet cloth, she called to me to answer it and ask who was calling.
Very politely I did so and was asked if my mummy could come to the phone to talk.
To my mother's dismay (and probably to the caller's alarm) she heard me say,
"Sorry, but mummy can't come to the 'phone right now, she's dying"

So, once again Double Entendre Day is upon us, and for this week's Caption Competition I have not had to trawl teh intermanet to find a suitable piccy.

Oh no.

This week's gem I found almost on my doorstep, being this -



Why a man was carrying a giant banana down the road in the direction of the local 'Loony Tunes Asylum' I have no idea, I'm just very happy I had my camera with me as per the norm.

So, you know what to do.

Get to work on stuffing my box until it creams over.

There's a Banana Split for every entry, and a Banana Daquiri going should I get me a 69.

Still here?

Shame on you.

Get.

In.

There.

NOW!

So, one week to go before the Big Day!

Yes, next Tuesday I will have been blogging for five whole years, so naturally there will be a party here.
As this blog will be five, there will be plenty of jelly and ice cream, cake, and fizzy pop, all simply loaded with E numbers, yay!
Entertainment will also be provided with plenty of party games, quizzes, and of course a little competition for which there will be a proper, tangible prize, hurrah!
Oh, and it's going to be strictly fancy dress, so please start planning what to wear!
So please RSVP and make sure you put the date in your diary, akay?

In the meantime, apologies for the lack of Choose-O yesterday, but I had a bit of an accident and instead I have decided that today, you can all tell me about your Bonk Holiday Weekends in Haiku form.
This is mine -

Very bad trip.
Foot caught pavement, nearly fell.
Very bad neck pain now.

Over to you then, and if anybody wants me, I'll be lying down trying to be as still as possible.

Additional, 16:31 hours. I've decided to show everyone my boobees over on Flickr. Hope you like them.

And so my lovelies, tis Friday again, and after nearly five years of Blogging my brain is having another 'go-slow day' today.

But that doesn't mean that I don't have anything for you to think about, oh no. Being nearly the weekend I've doned you another old favourite being a Spot the Difference Competition. Again, it's very tricky, but please have a go. Your photos are -



And finally, howsabout a rousing game of Mornington Crescent; this time in the style of Shakespeare!
I'll go first to get you in the mood, so see you in the comments box and have a fabulous weekend if possible!

l8rz!

Additional, 13:45 hours For those of you who are stumped as to how to curse someone in true Shakespeare stylee, try this!

I've just realized something.
In one week and four days time, I will have been blogging for five years!
Yep, on Tuesday, June 2nd, 2009, 'Momentary lapses of insanity...' will be five years old, yet it seems like only yesterday a then-friend said 'Ere, you should start a blog!'.
And so I signed up to Blogger, chose a name for the blog, picked a theme and started writing, and this is what I wrote on that first entry all those years ago -

"I've decided to start a blog.
The idea came to me after I got bitten on the leg by a particularly viscous insect which caused my ankle to swell up, leaving me unable to walk and also, stuck by my 'puter for nearly a week...
After spending many, many hours online doing personality tests, I discovered I was (amongst other things) an Outcast Angel, a Tomboy, a Considerate Vampire, if i was a Dog I'd be an Alsatian, my 'Sex in the City' character is Carrie, my 'Buffy' character is Druscilla, my 'Sci-Fi character is Aragorn, I'm a Loner who's in love, and apparently I'm going to marry Brad Pitt...
Thinking about it, maybe I should get out more now that I can walk again."

Blogging-wise, nothing's changed much over the last five years then, except I haven't been bitten by any 'viscous' insects recently and my ankle hasn't swelled up in a while, but still, I really should get out more.

Anyway, onto a week next Tuesday.
Naturally I will be holding a party (any excuse eh?) and I think a themed one will go down well, so if anyone has any suggestions as to what theme we can go for, shove them in the usual place please!
Or, we could nick an idea from 'Deal or No Deal' and have a party that lasts the whole week! Reckon any of you have the stamina for a seven day party, eh?
I'm sure you can if you try, so suggestions for party games and activities will also be mucho welcome.

Seriously, I can't believe it's been five years. One thousand, five hundred and twenty five days.
Wow.
So much has happened since then too. I've become an 'Auntie' to three gorgeous children, lost loved ones and friends, made many new friends, the Then-partner-in-crime became the Ex-partner-in-crime, I took up photography properly and have done my first wedding-gig, learnt how to fix computers, looked after Scary's blog for a while, Buffy ended, London got bombed, we got the Olympic bid, and the government is still heading to Hell in a handbasket.
And so much more too...

So, your turn. What's been the major change (or changes) in your lives over the last five years then? Tell me all, you know your secrets are safe with me.

Hurooh, hooray, it's Humpday again!

And on this particular Double Entendre Day I can bring you breaking news regarding the hilarious sad tidings about the imminent divorce between Peter Andre and Katie Price.

The reason for their split is the Pope.



He spent last week in Jordan.

Moving swiftly on, regulars here will know what's coming next, but for those of you that are new or have the attention span of a Red Setter, I will explain.
Below this bit of text I have posted a picture.
What you have to do is to think up as many witty, erudite, and smutty in the Double Entendre style, then shove all you can possibly fit into my box.
In return you will receive a lovely, juicy Jelly Tot for each entry, and if one of you manages to get me to a 69 they will get a lovely, juicy Jello Shot!
Got the idea?
If yes then 'excellent and off you go', but if not, please to scroll back up to the beginning of this paragraph and continue to read it until you understand.
Failing that, please ask a friend/colleague/relative/member of the clergy to explain it to you until you comprehend.
And so, your photo for this week's Caption Competition is -

So.

Your turn.

See you down there then...

Camp

Quite a few years ago I went camping in Scotland by mistake. I'd been to a friend's wedding near Aberdeen with a then boyfriend, and for some insane reason we spent four days traipsing around the north east of the country in a small car, seeing the sights, stopping at camp-sites at night, and for the entire journey it rained.
A lot.
Now don't get me wrong, I love Scotland and I love camping, but not when it's pissing it down with rain the whole time and you find out that the person you're with is a crushing bore when it comes to holidays.
But it wasn't all bad. The time that we were crossing a rather rocky mountain road and the wind blew over the caravan in front of us was rather amusing, and also we had a good laugh every time we saw hikers struggling through the near gale force winds, tied together with rope so that they wouldn't get separated, but other than that it was mostly wet and dull.
On the last day however we woke up to clear skies. We packed up the tent once again and headed off to our last port of call which was a very small village near Mallaig.
We stopped off at various places along the way and arrived at the camp-site in the early evening. To my delight I saw a lovely looking pub right nearby which promised home made food, which after surviving on take-aways and service station 'cuisine' made my mouth water at the very thought.
The camp-site was right by the sea and we pitched the tent on a beautiful patch of soft grass, and at the boyfriend's suggestion, positioned it so that when we opened the 'door' we were met by a glorious view of the Isle of Skye. It really was a beauty of a camp-site and after the 'delights' of the previous ones which mostly afforded views of caravans and nearby housing estates, put me in the most cheerful mood of the entire holiday.
After we'd set up and got the bedding down, I had a quick flannel wash and changed into my last remaining dry set of clothes before scampering back to the pub.
The home made food did not disappoint, and an hour or so later I was stuffed full of beef and mushroom casserole and on my second glass of red wine and happily snuggled in a comfy seat next to a roaring fire.
I didn't want to head back to the cold damp tent and when the clocked showed ten to eleven I began to feel rather less chipper again.
I went and ordered the last drinks, but was surprised not to hear a 'last orders' bell.
Eleven o'clock came and went and I reckoned they must have an extended license until midnight, and decided to make the most of the extra time and try one of the many whiskeys that the bar proffered.
I asked the advice of the landlord of which one to go for, and next I knew a friendly argument had started amongst the locals over which whiskey was the best to try.
After a couple of minutes they'd narrowed the choices down to two, and to my great joy I was bought one of each by the two locals who wanted my opinion as to which was the better.
Being as diplomatic as I could I said that both were delicious in their own way, and I couldn't choose between them.
This led to a full on whiskey sampling session with lots of laughter and friendly banter, and midnight came and went without any sign of last orders being called.
Turned out that it was a very 'local pub' and despite the camp-site so near, they rarely got any visitors from outside the village.
One of the regulars asked me where I was from and when I replied 'London', he said 'Never mind, lass'.
The next couple of hours passed in a happy, whiskey-fumed blur accompanied by music from the locals that had guitars and fiddles, and it was nearing three in the morning when the landlord finally said it was time for everyone to go home.
Another chap asked me where we were staying and when I told him that we'd pitched our tent in the nearby camp-site he said 'Och noo, did ye nay hear there's a force nine gale forecast for later this morning?'
By that time I was past caring about what the weather had in store, partially because of the whiskey, and partly because I'd been rained on so much over the last three days, a bit more wasn't going to worry me.
We bade our farewells and tumbled out of the pub with the locals, and wombled back along to the tent.
The weather was still fine at that time, and I reckoned that we'd be gone before the gale came; after all, the chap had said 'Later on in the morning' hadn't he?
I flopped into the tent, hunkered down in my spleeping bag and still full of good food and drink, nodded off as soon as my head hit the pillow.
It could only have been an hour at the most before the gale arrived.
The first sign that something was rather amiss was that I was being rained on.
Being rained on while in a tent is never a good thing and when I opened my eyes I fuzzily tried to work out why the half of the tent top sheet that should have been covering me, wasn't there. The thin inner layer was still there but it wasn't doing a very good job of keeping me dry and I struggled to figure out what the feck was going on.
To my amazement, the boyfriend was still fast aspleep and snoring loud enough to rival the wind which was howling around what was left of the tent.
I hit him a couple of times and at last he woke up and asked what was wrong, and why had I woken him up?
I couldn't be arsed to explain and instead got out of my wet spleeping bag, got my feet into my boots and got out of the tent to try and get it back to where it should be.
As soon as I got outside, I was soaked. I was only wearing a sweatshirt and knickers and I was met by not just the rain, but waves which were reaching over the little shingle beach being carried by the gale.
Cursing the boyfriend's decision to pitch the tent facing the sea, I grabbed hold of the top sheet and tried to get it back over my bed.
At last the boyfriend figured out what was going on and I yelled as loud as I could over the noise to get him to move the car in front of the tent so that it could act as a windbreak.
Finally he got the message and tried to start the car.
Unfortunately, the car was too wet to start and it took him about five minutes to get it going.
During those five minutes I desperately tried to hold onto the tent which by then was trying to take off.
I stood there in a force nine gale, half-naked, being pelted by wind, rain and sea, but still half-tiddly from the previously consumed whiskey.
At last the car started and the boyfriend managed to get it in front of the tent, which did at least stop the majority of the sea hitting me and the tent, and another ten minutes or so later, we'd managed to peg down the top sheet again.
I was soaked to the skin, freezing cold and the effects of the lovely, warming whiskey had worn off.
The boyfriend discovered why pissing in the wind is not a very good idea, but the rain soon cleaned him up again.
The gale carried on buffeting the tent for another four hours.
My spleeping bag was soaked through as well, but curling up in it was marginally better than nothing at all.
Then at about nine o'clock, the storm finally raged itself out and the sun peeked wanly through the washed out clouds.
Still wet through we loaded up the car with the drenched spleeping bags and tent and drove off back towards the sanctuary of London and city life once again.
I was still damp when I got back home.
Worst camping holiday, EVER!
I haven't been back there since although I would very much like to.
Next time however, I'll be staying in a B&B.

Ah Monday, and after a lovely weekend away I am now back in the twenty-first century, well rested and with only one bruise, hurrah!

And as is often the case on Mondays here, it is Choose-O day, so here are your options for tomorrow's tale of fun and frolics -

• Camp
• Cuts
• Faster

Also, I am discovering that there is a quiz for just about anything out there on teh intermanet, so if you're bored, why not find out What Day of the Week Are You?
I'm not sure it's 100% accurate though. According to the results, I'm Monday.

That can't be right, surely. I've never liked Mondays that much.

Anyways, don't forget to tell me all about your weekends, which I hope were fun and bruise free.
Oh, it's good to be back!

Weekend time again, rah! And in a few hours time I'll be off to hit people with Mr Pointy again, double rah!

But afore I go, I have yet another 'game' for you to get the old grey matter going.
It is this.
Think up as many 'Songs for Stalkers' as you possibly can, for example -

'Every breath you take' - The Police
'One way or another' - Blondie
'I'll be there' - Michael Jackson
'I just called to say I see you' - Lionel Ritchie'
'Lurking in the moonlight' - Thin Lizzy
'In the midnight hour' - Bryan ferry
Jealous Guy' - John Lennon'
And last but not least the classic, 'You'll never walk alone'.

So, as per usual, I know you can do far better, so over to you and have a fabulous weekend y'all!

ttfn,

*mwah*

Thursday once more, and after the fun* of last week's 'Which Super Villain Are You?' quiz, I decided to trawl the web for another variety of quiz.

I wanted to find something different from the usual 'What Sort of Animal Are You?' or 'Are You Sporty or Not?', and I rather think I've found it.

It is this -

What would your body taste like to a cannibal?


Just FYI, there is no law against cannibalism in the UK. As long as a person dies of natural causes and you are a relation/legal guardian of the body, you can, if you so desire, cook them up in a tasty casserole, grill a few of the ribs, fry up a rump steak, or just munch on whatever body part takes your fancy.

Isn't that good to know in these Credit Crunch times, eh?

*Definition of 'fun' may vary from reader to reader, and contents are liable to settle during transit.

Wednesday.

AKA, Hump Day.

And round this little corner of Teh Blogosphere, Double Entendre Day.

Which for those in the know means only one thing...

Soon there will be a photo.

Your challenge (should you choose to accept it) is to study said photo, and think up as many witty captions as you possibly can to accompany it.

Because Double Entendre Day here, means it's time for a Caption Competition.

Here is the photo -

It is now up to you to fill my box with as much smut as you can possibly shove in there, with the intention of giving me a good, hard, and above all satisfying 69.

Your reward should you attempt this challenge? A Martini, shaken, not stirred.
Should someone give me a soixante-neuf, they will get an olive to go with it.

So what are you waiting for?

Get.

In.

There.

This post will possibly self-destruct in T-minus 30 seconds.

But probably not.

You might want to duck for cover after leaving your comments though...

The Accused

A few years ago when I was helping to run pubs, the Then-partner-in-crime and I were running around between three of the things, thanks to the brainwave of the Man with Money, but Very Little Brain. We had 'management' in all three pubs, and the TPIC and I were in charge of helping them all to run smoothly, sort out teething problems in the newest one, and sort out the books etc.
One of these pubs was in Farnham. If you haven't been to Farnham, it's a lovely place with a castle, quaint little alleyways, great pubs, shops and restaurants and I recommend a visit, but that's nothing to do with the story.

We'd recently taken over a pub which had been run by a failed Elvis impersonator, and as there were plenty of big rooms upstairs had begun to take in B&B guests, our first load of which were all builders working away from home.
Think 'Auf Wiedersehen, Pet', but set in Surrey instead of Germany.
We had three letting rooms. In two of the rooms we had a group of chaps who had moved in almost as soon as we took over, and in the third room, a gang of four had just moved in that night, and after they'd had a wash and change of clothes they'd come back down to the bar for dinner and a few pints.
The 'older' residents went to bed at a sensible time as they had an early start the next day and took their jobs seriously, but the newer lot seemed more interested in having a good time away from home and by late eventide were getting a tad 'jolly'.
So, in the bar were me, the TPIC and the manager of the pub who was a friend of the TPIC and the Man with the Money, but Very Little Brains, and of course these four builders, who by the way, were all built like the proverbial brick shit-house, and probably far less intelligent than one.
As the evening turned to night they became more and more 'happy' and when it came to closing time they were most upset at being sent to bed.
The TPIC and the manager, being the sort of chaps who did not very much like altercations with brick shit-houses, decided it was for the best all round if I politely asked them to go to their rooms, and so once again (I have dealt with drunks many, many times over the years) went up to them, smiled sweetly and at last got them to follow me up the apples and pears and into their room.
I went back down to find the TPIC and the manager having a chat over a 'closing time drink' and decided to join them as I reckoned I deserved one after all that.
Alas, while we were there, one of the builders came back down.
It turned out that he'd lost his silver cigarette case and wondered if he'd left it in the bar. I told him that I'd cleared the table and had not found a silver cigarette case, but I went and had a look around under the tables just in case.
It was not to be found, and so back up the stairs he lumbered once more.
A short while later he was back; this time he was peeved.
He said that he'd looked all around the room and through his things, and his cigarette case was not there. He knew his friends didn't have it, and therefore, one of us must have.
I said that we had not got his cigarette case, we were not in the business of stealing from guests, and that if it turned up in the bar I would let him know, but in the meantime it was very late, we were closed, and would he please go back upstairs so that we could lock up the bar.
Glaring at us, he turned and went back once more.
But then again, he was back, and he'd brought one of his friends.
Once again he told us to give him back his case, and once again I told him we hadn't got the bloody thing.
By this time, the TPIC and the manager were starting to look rather worried. Although they were good at dealing with 'problems' in the bar, they really didn't like the look of this particular one that was getting more and more angry by the second.
Again he told us to give the case back.
Again I said we hadn't got it.
This went on for a couple of minutes with him getting louder and louder with each accusation.
I was not happy at all. Not only was this idiot keeping me from going to bed, but he was also waking up the rest of the chaps upstairs, and I really didn't feel like sorting out a full scale ruck at twelve-thirty am.
After being harangued for about five minutes I snapped.
I calmly but firmly told him that it was late, we still did not have his fucking case, and what I was going to do was to go upstairs with them, show them to their room, and leave them there being quiet, else they could go straight out of the pub and stay there instead, and yes, I was more than willing to phone the police.
They noticed the look in my eyes, and at last they turned and lumbered back up to the room.
When we got there, I found a couple of the other lot of chaps standing around so I explained what was going on (ie: we'd been accused of stealing from the other lot) and they told me that if there was any more trouble, all I had to do was scream and they'd be right there, love.
I thanked them, and ushered the other two into their room.
Once more I asked him if he'd thoroughly checked his belongings in case the case was there, and again he muttered that of course he had.
I asked him when he'd last seen it, and he said it was when he'd left the bar and come upstairs.
I spotted the pile of bags that had been dumped by the door to my left, and for some reason I picked up the largest one.
There, in the space left by the bag, was the silver cigarette case.
The fucktard looked at it, then looked at me, then very quickly looked down at his hands while he turned a very lovely shade of red.
I quietly but firmly told them that I did not want to hear so much as snoring from him for the rest of the night, and that I expected him to apologize to not only me, but the TPIC, the manager, and the other guests as soon as he got a chance.
I closed the door and went back to the bar to find the TPIC and the manager peering out from the end of the bar where they'd been hiding, but saying they'd been looking for the case.
I told them to not worry, I'd sorted it and after another well deserved Baileys, we had a laugh while I explained what had happened.
Strangely, the builders were incredibly well behaved for the rest of their stay, and all I had to to to get them to leave the bar at closing time was smile.

And so, quicker than you can say 'Flaucinaucinihilipilification', the weekend's over and we stumble once again into another Monday.

Woo.

And hoo.

I don't know about you, but Monday's are always a weird sort of day. For me, waking up on a Monday makes me panic slightly; Am I supposed to be going somewhere? Do I have to make an urgent phone call? Did I really end up in an altercation with a Rabbi and a Police Officer last night, and why the fuck hell is there a 'Men at Work' sign at the end of my bed?

Again.

Anyways, for whatever reasons, I don't think I'm alone in not liking Mondays very much, so before we get to the usual Choose-O, I reckon we should all chip in and once more share some of our favourite jokes to get the day just that little bit more enjoyable.
As it's my blog, I'll go first with -

Q: What's Rupert Bear's middle name?
A: 'the'.

Two blondes are on opposite sides of the canal. The first blonde calls out to the other and says "scuse me, but how do you get to the other side?"
The other blonde replies, "You are on the other side!"

Q: What's the difference between men and cucumbers?
A: Men don't usually come in your salad.

And on that note, your Choose-O Choices are -

• The Accused
• The Accused
• The Accused*

Jokes, choices etc to be shoved in the normal place, and please don't forget to let me know how your weekends went while you're down there, akay?

*I'm scared of Griffins, that's all I'm saying.

And so my darling sugarlumps, not only is it Friday, but it's 'That time of year again', being when I ask you various questions about how you reckon my blog is doing.
It won't take long, and from what others have told me it's relatively painless, so plz to take a few minutes out of your hectic day and shove some answers in my box, akay?

Your reward? This.

Q1: How did you first stumble across this blog?
a) Recommended by another person/blog
b) Via a Google search about a totally unrelated topic such as 'free bic biro'
c) By mistake
d) The little voices told you to find me
e) Wha...?
f) Other (please state)

Q2: Why do you keep coming back to this blog?
a) Bored
b) Glutton for punishment
c) Can't get any other sites up for some reason
d) Can't find the usual pr0n site
e) Eh...?
f) Other (please state)

Q3: What do you like most about this blog?
a) The witty and erudite ramblings writing
b) Double Entendre Day
c) The occasional snippets of information about various topics
d) The little skipping penguin
e) What blog?
f) Other (please state)

Q4: Do you find the recommended other blogs, sites and games etc;
a) Fun
b) Varied in selection
c) Informative
d) There are other blogs?
e) Que?
f) Other (please state)

Q5: What could be done to improve this blog?
a) More stories about various altercations with police
b) More informative postings
c) More skipping penguins
d) Gratuitous references to sex and badgers
e) Y'wot?
f) Other (please state)

Q6: Would you recommend this blog to a friend?
a) Yep
b) Nah
c) Maybe
d) Dunno
e) Why, is there money involved?
f) Other (please state)

Q7: (last one) Which has been your favourite previous post on this site?
a) The one about the goats
b) The one about the attack cat
c) Any of the Caption Competition ones
d) Any of the ones with gratuitous violence in them
e) There are other posts?
f) Other (please state)

Thank you for your time, you may now enjoy your weekend.

And so we roll into Thursday, and for a change I have something for you!

It's a bit of fun and silliness, but could also prove 'interesting', in a 'stupid, but interesting' sense.
It is this.

Click here to take the "Which Super Villain are you?" quiz...

My results?

Catwoman

"With a troubled past and an upbringing on the streets you have learned how to fend for yourself through crime"

I'm taking the 5th on that one*

So fess up! Who's your Evil Super Villain Alter-Ego then?

*Meow.

What ho, my shnuggly darlings, tis another fine Double Entendre Day!

And as this Wodenstag draws clear and bright, I draw your attention to the photo for today's Caption Competition, which is -

Make of it what you will. All I ask is that you give me all you've got and proceed to stuff my box with gusto*, and hopefully as the end of Hump Day draws near, to give me the satisfaction of a glorious 69!

Your reward for your endeavours? A delicious slice of apple pie for every entry, and if you give me a 69 I'll make it à la mode and add a cherry on top as well.

And as I'm feeling very sorry for neglecting you all so much recently, here's another treat. It's sexy, sensual, and very refreshing...

(clicky on piccy for banned advert goodness!)

*Like Pesto, but not. Maybe.

Hi folks!

Sorry about lack if decent post today, but not only did my 'puter refuse to go online, but I've been feeling rather weird and sort of 'fluey'.

In fact, I was so worried about the strange fluey feeling I gave the Swine Flu Hotline a ring.





But all I got was a load of crackling.

*watches tumbleweeds roll by*

Anyhoo, back to whatever passes as normal again tomorrow. In the meantime, plz to tell me all about your Bonk Holiday weekends, and all the exciting things you might have been up to!

Or, if nothing whatsoever has happened to you, here's another adorable kitteh piccy for you to LOL up instead.

ttfn,

So, Friday yet again, and today I have sorted a few things to hopefully keep you amused.

First up (seeing as I haven't doned one in a while) is a Spot the Difference Competition, your pictures for which are -

Very tricky I know, but have a bash anyway.

Next up are a selection of games. For those of you who love nothing better than to browse around shops for hours on end but can't afford it nowadays, Happy Shopper is the game for you!
If you prefer something rather more exciting, then Ice Breaker, Red Cross Emergency Response Unit, or School Wars are probably more your thing, but if you can't stand that heat, try a different sort and get into the kitchen with Muffin Madness, or Grill The Meat 2.
Enjoy!*

Almost last is another round of 'I Say, You Say', so I say -

Spaghetti ::
Trees ::
Blood ::
Dizzy ::
Match ::
Wolf ::
May ::
Colour ::
Star ::
Picture ::
Rain ::
Maybe ::

and then you say your bits in the comments box.

And finally, a bit of total silliness wot I stumbled upon on teh intermanet, Torchwool!

And for now, that's all folks!
Hope you all have a wonderful, happy weekend, and remember to do anything I wouldn't do, akay?

*Or not. I like them anyway.