Thief.

Quite a few moons ago, a friend of mine was running a pub in West Ealing. I visited most days at lunchtime as I was on a computer course in the building adjacent to the pub, and if my friend was short-staffed, she'd often ask me to help out behind the bar for a couple of hours.
Now, not only were most of the customers easy going and fun to be around, but my friend also had a darling little dog called Arthur.
Arthur was a thoroughbred, and fully paid up member of the Kennel Club, but despite the paperwork he looked just like a small, scruffy, mutt, and was absolutely adorable. He was just about a year old at the time, and although he was fully house-broken and knew most of the usual commands, he was sometimes a bit naughty. My friend was forever despairing of the little darling as once again he would trot into the bar, proudly carrying a pair of her knickers, or other items he'd found in the laundry basket.
One week, my friend's cleaner was on holiday and she asked if I could cover for her, and I agreed, and so every morning before 'school', I'd let myself into the pub and get stuck in to getting the place ship-shape and ready for action.
Every morning, Arthur would be ready and waiting to help me, and after he'd ensured there were no crisps, peanuts, or other bar snacks on the floor, he'd assist me by attacking the vacuum cleaner and savaging the mop. If you haven't tried mopping a floor while a small dog is holding on to the mop and growling at it, you've never mopped, trust me.
I would also check that Arthur hadn't brought anything of my friend's down from upstairs, and if I did find another bra or hairbrush or whatever, I'd put it in a safe place, well out of Arthur's reach.
Friday rolled around and I let myself in as usual, only to find Arthur conspicuous by his absence.
I thought it rather odd that he wasn't there to greet me and reckoned he must still be upstairs having a lie in for a change, after all, dogs get tired just the same as humans.
I walked around the pub doing a quick check for anything left behind from the night before, and to my surprize found a pile of torn wrapper from a packet of what (after piecing together the wrapper shreds) had been a packet of Glucose, Energy tablets. Of the energy tablets however, there were no remains.
I was about to get a dustpan and brush, when suddenly, from out of nowhere, I was attacked!
Arthur had launched a direct hit on the back of my head and as I tried to stand up, he knocked me straight back down again.
I called his name in a rather louder voice than normal, and next I knew he'd launched himself at me yet again, this time leaping up and knocking me backwards with a hit from all four tiny paws before carrying on by leaping onto the bar, onto a bar stool, on to a table, and then zooming off in the direction of the kitchen.
All was quiet as I steadied myself but then I heard the patter of tiny paws hurtling towards me once more. This time I was ready for the little sod sweetheart, and as he leapt up towards me I caught him and tried to calm him down.
Big mistake, as he decided that this was a Fun Game, and began barking at me whilst trying to lick my face.
It was then that my friend came downstairs having heard strange noises and Arthur barking, to find me holding Arthur at arm's length as he wriggled and barked like a lunatic.
As soon as Arthur saw his human, he wriggled with all his might and I lost my grip on him, and off he zoomed around the pub, launching himself off the walls and furniture as he went.
I showed my friend the shredded wrapper, and turned out that the packet had been unopened before Arthur stole it. He'd eaten a whole packet of glucose energy tablets with extra Guarana extract, one of which was enough to keep a human awake for several hours.
Twelve of the tablets inside a small dog was enough to keep it awake for almost a week.
Of course, my friend checked with the vet, and was assured that although Arthur was going to be rather bouncier than normal, he'd be fine once the tablets got out of his system, but neither my friend nor Arthur got much spleep for the next few days.
And Arthur never stole strange sweeties again.
Which was good.

Wednesday is upon us once more, which means it's time to get down and dirty with this week's Double Entendre Day, Caption Competition, woohoo!

This week's photo is -

There's a toffee going for every entry, and a walnut whip available should anyone get me to an ever increasingly elusive, 69.

So without further preamble,

Get

Stuck

In!

PS. If you haven't already voted for this week's Choose-O (which is on Thursday this week) please scroll down to yesterday's post and cast your Vote-O, akay?

Once again, sorry about the recent lack of posting, but my brain decided to take a holiday without giving me prior notice.

Also, nothing exciting has happened round these 'ere parts either, but I have had some very interesting dreams whilst nestling in my pit.
One in particular has got me thinking a lot. It's a recurring dream wherein I'm on a cruise liner that makes the Titanic seem like a child's toy in comparison. This liner is absolutely massive; it would take a week to explore the whole thing and as well as the usual dining rooms, bars and swimming pools, has a real, living park slap bang in the middle of it.
Now normally I'd like to have a dream about being on a massive, super-luxurious cruiser, but this trip isn't much fun as somehow, one-by-one, the other passengers are struck down by this bizarre disease that renders them insane as their bodies start to rot, and the dream turns into a nightmare in which I'm stuck on board a floating island inhabited by decomposing psychopaths.
Woo, and indeed hoo!
This dream/nightmare is not only recurring, but incredibly vivid - every time all the rooms are the same, and I could draw a plan of the boat with my eyes closed it's getting so familiar. Oh, and not only am I stuck on this boat, but there's been a disaster and most of the earth is flooded, so even if I did manage to get off the bloody thing, there's hardly anywhere to get to if I did.
Thinking about it, maybe having this dream nearly every night and spend the majority of my night running away from 'not yet dead, but nearly' zombies and scavenging for weapons and food with the few remaining other passengers who aren't fruitloop with bits of them falling off, is why I'm so tired when I wake up? It certainly feels very real while I'm aspleep, and I know that I've started spleep-walking again*, so instead of getting the rest I need, I'm still 'awake' and walking about the house instead.
Hmmm...
Maybe I should try staying awake more so that I can get some rest. Also, I think I should start wearing pyjamas again, just in case I wander off out of the house once more!

Anyhoo, as I missed yesterday's Choose-O, I'm going to give you some choices for Thursday's entertainment, and your options are -

• Speech
• Crack
• Thief

As always choose wisely, and remember that the title of the tale may or may not have anything to do with the content, or at least, not in the way you'd be thinking it would.
Also, while you're down there, please tell me all about what's been happening to you since the last post. You know I like to live vicariously.

*Waking up downstairs wearing only a t-shirt and knickers at 5.30am in the freezing cold and dark and holding a poker, is a clue.

Well, another week, another Wednesday, which means that it's time for another Double Entendre Day, Caption Competition, yay!

I'm sure you're all champing at the bit to get stuck in, so without further delay, your photo is -



Your reward? A delicious marshmallow for every entry, and a mug of lovely hot chocolate available should anyone get me to a 69!

So... Over to you then.

Have at it!

Scary.

Lots of years ago when I was about fourteen years old, my mother caught laryngitis and couldn't whisper, let alone talk.
I'm now going to change the topic entirely, but the above is important to the story, akay?

One night during the summer holidays I was in bed late at night and watching a very scary film called 'The Haunting', the original 1963 version, not the rehashed version that came out a few years ago, which I can't even remember who starred in.
Anyways, this film is one of the few that have made me feel scared; the sort of scared that makes you realize that you've been holding your breath only when you suddenly gasp for air when a loud 'bang' or 'thump' gets your attention.
I was about half-way through the film and had got to a seriously scary bit that had me pulling the duvet up so that I could hide, when I heard another noise, but not from the telly, this noise came from outside.
I turned the volume down so that I could listen more carefully and yet again I heard the noise.
It was a scream of sorts, but it didn't sound quite human... It might have been a baby's cry, or then again, it could have been an animal; to me it sounded like a tortured soul, or possibly a banshee, as after sitting through nearly an hour of seriously scary film, I was a tad edgy to say the least.
The noise continued, and fighting the urge to hide under the duvet, I steadied my nerves and went from my bedroom to the landing in order to have a look out of the window onto the garden so that I might find out the source of the howling.
The rest of the house was in darkness as I opened the window and leaned out...
I strained my ears trying to suss out where the noise was coming from and had almost figured it out when suddenly the window in the bathroom (which was right nest to where I was on the landing) slammed making the curtain billow out!
I screamed, and screamed and the screamed again just to emphasize the point!
The dogs awoke and joined in by barking, the student that was staying in the guest room woke up and yelled out in panic, lights went on in neighbours houses, and I was about to scream some more when I realized what had happened.
Being dark, I hadn't noticed my mother standing by the window in the bathroom. She had also heard the noise and gone to investigate, and not being able to talk hadn't been able to let me know she was there.
It took a long while before any of us were able to get back to spleep, and I still get jittery whenever I watch The Haunting.

Well, I am pleased to announce that yesterday broke a record for me, as I received absolutely no Valentine's whatsoever. There wasn't even the hint of a card anywhere, and the chocolate was most conspicuous by its absence.
Still, I had a great larf reading the wonderful 'pomes' what you lot wrote for me, and a good friend of mine sent me a lovely pressie, which wasn't a Valentine, but was very useful indeedy.

Anyway, while I have your attention, I would like you to choose tomorrow's entertainment from the following -

• Speech
• Scary

and also tell me all about your weekends; did you get any Valentines? Go for a romantic meal anywhere? Or possibly you got a card from a secret admirer!
If so, tell me all about it, your secrets are as ever, safe with me!

Following on in the same thread of yesterday's topic, I have a favour to ask you lot.

As well as listing those phrases and expressions that really piss you off annoy you, please would you be so kind as to list as many adages, maxims, proverbs or sayings as you can remember; like 'People in glass houses shouldn't throw stones' and 'Red sky at night, Shepherd's delight' etc, etc.
There is a reason for this which I will reveal next week, so please humour me, akay?

Also, as one of the most awful days of the year* is looming upon us, tell me about the worst Valentine's card or present you've ever recieved, or the most terrible Valentine's date you've ever been on.
And if you don't have any tales of that ilk to impart, why not think up the 'Worst Possible Message To Get In A Valentine Card' that you can.
Such as -

'Roses are red, violets are blue, I know where you live and I'm coming for you with a machete'
or
'Dearest Valentine, I love you, but I've just discovered that I've got genital herpes. Please pass this message on to anyone you've slept with in the last five years so that they can get tested as well. Kiss, kiss, from ?'

And so on and so forth.

And don't forget to have a fabulous weekend, and don't do anything I would, akay?



*Hallmark Day, previously known as Valentine's Day.

Recently I've noticed something that's begining to seriously annoy me.

Everywhere I go I hear it; on television, on radio, on buses and trains, in the pub, just walking along the road, it haunts me.

It must be new. Either that or I never noticed it before, but now it's ubiquitous, and it's driving me up the bloody wall!

It's people using the expression 'At The End Of The Day'.

I'm not making this up, and neither am I imagining it - I hear it at least ten times a day, usually more, and I swear I'm going to start screaming at people before too long if they say it too near me.

I mean why? Why are so many folk using this particular expression? Has it suddenly become trendy, or has it simply seeped into the subconsciousness of the populace in general?

Listen out for it yourself, I'll bet you you'll hear it everywhere from now on, and when you start frothing at the mouth you'll know it's time to join me in the campaign to stop this inane expression and throw perpetrators into the nearest scorpion pit.

Trust me, it must be stopped, and stopped NOW!

Oh, and are there any expressions that make you want to thump people whenever you hear the words? If so, please share, while I go find some more scorpions, akay?

Another week, another few days without electrickery and intermanet connection, but hopefully I'll be making it up to you with the photo that I've just tracked down on teh intermanet for this week's Double Entendre Day, Caption Competition, yeeeehah!

Yep, I reckon that this Wednesday's picture is seriously going to give your noggin's a serious workout; one that after some perusal will ensure you some delectation and delight, and also hopefully enough incentive for a load of comments, maybe even enough to get me a delicious and long awaited 69!

But then again, perhaps not.

Anyway, this is the photo -



There's a Sacramental Wafer available for every comment left, and a sip of the Blood of Christ going should anyone be lucky enough to get me to a 69.

So, what are you waiting for?

Get.

Stuck.

In.

PS. I'm booked on the 17:53 from Paddington to Hell if anyone wants to join me.

Egads. Friday already, and my brain's still on the blink, but I have thought up a little something to get your brains into for the weekend, being another question.

If you could have a Super Power, what would it be and how would you use it?

Personally, I'd go for being Omnilingual, then I'd be able to understand every language on the planet, and if anyone tried to talk about me thinking I wouldn't understand, I'd soon put them straight.
Also, Mata Hari eat'cha heart out! She'd be nothing compared to how I'd use my talents!
And, just think how much I could earn as a translator!

So, over to you, and I wish you all the very bestest for the weekend ahead.

Tootles,

Greetings my little chickadees! And first of all, sorry about the lack of post yesterday, only I had serious back problems, as in I couldn't get out of bed. After about 48 hours without getting any spleep, I finally nodded off in the early hours of Monday, and next I knew it was the late hours of Monday. I got up and had something to eat, then went back to bed with a fresh hot water bottle and as soon as my head hit the pillow I was out for the count until 11am today. I think I either needed to seriously catch up on missed spleep, or a Tsetse attacked me.
Anyway, I'm bright-eyed and bushy tailed now, so seeing as I promised on Friday that I would, I shall regale you with a tale about something very embarrassing that happened to me a while back.

I'd just got back from Germany and had landed at Stanstead airport. The Ex-Partner-In-Crime said that he'd wait for me in nearby Bishop's Stortford* and to call him when I landed and he'd come and collect me from the airport.
So I called him and told him that I'd yet to get my luggage from the carousel, and that I'd wait for him outside.
Luckily, my luggage had been on the same flight as me and after I'd hauled it off the carousel and made my way to the outside world.
I realized that the outside of the airport was a fairly large area and was wondering where the best place to wait for the EPIC to stop for me, when an airport worker came up and asked if he could help me at all.
Without thinking I relied that I was just wondering where the best place to get picked up was, and it was only when the chap gave me a very amused grin, did I realize what I'd said.
I fluffed my way through an explanation of what I'd meant to say, and the chap (still grinning his head off) said that the best place was just past a crossing by some flags that could be seen from far away, and thanking him I grabbed my suitcase and scurried off as fast as I possibly could.
I really should remember to think before saying things, but sometimes there's just not enough time.

*Which is somewhere.