The Meaning of Life (Part 6)

“What in the name of Zeus and all his minions are you eating now?”

“Eanun utta uffn” The unintelligible sounds were the product of a tongue temporarily jammed to the roof of a mouth. A few seconds later there was a noise like a large plunger being forcibly pulled from a drain and some concentrated chewing.

“What in the name of Zeus and all his minions are you eating now?”

“Eanun utta uffn” The unintelligible sounds were the product of a tongue temporarily jammed to the roof of a mouth. A few seconds later there was a noise like a large plunger being forcibly pulled from a drain and some concentrated chewing.

“A peanut butter muffin, I’ve been experimenting” The face contorted with the effort of a tongue not quite long or fine enough trying to remove the last vestiges of muffin from between the teeth.

“Diet going well then!?” Although stated clearly, the speaker tried to cover his words with the shuffling of paper; this was a touchy subject.

“I am glorious in my perfection” He rose to his full height and gathered his flowing robes around his ample frame.

“Only since I let the robes out…….mutter…….podgy…..mutter”

“Hmmph, you’re one to talk, I notice we’re short on chocolate hobnobs again and I haven’t been eating them..hang on a minute have you seen this audit report?”

roman-empire-dessert.jpg“I am not giving up my morning hobnob just because you’ve decided to take up baking! Anyway, have you seen the creatures in the factory these days? Half of them have their bellies hanging somewhere around their knees and your Roman Empire dessert is a least partway responsible you know…….what audit report?”

“Ahhh those were the days” said with fond reminiscence “All those sins at one time; I love it when we’re busy don’t you?”

“Talk about rose coloured glasses! What bloody audit report?” There were definite notes of impatience in his tone

“This one. The latest furry creatures audit” Unfortunately waving a piece of paper within 2 centimetres of someone’s nose does little to aid their ability to actually read it.

“Give that here”

“Don’t snatch!”

This could have degenerated into a hair pulling, air slapping kind of argument had the numbers on the offending piece of paper come into clear focus.

“What the f….?”

“Yes, precisely. What has been going on down there? Who’s in charge of the furry ones because whoever it is they’ve got some explaining to do!” There was no doubt that there would be little time for explaining in between all the noisy berating.

“It’s old Bob but you pulled him off the furry ones so he could help out with the fishy ones after the creatures decided that the water we provided was no good unless it was encased in plastic, remember?”

“Bugger! Yes, I remember now. Get him up here and tell him it’s an emergency, there’s hardly any of the stripey ones left and they’re my favourites, I loved that design”

“I still prefer the tartan but you never like any of my ideas” He received the kind of glare that could melt tarmac and started backing out of the room in a hurry but then something caught his eye

“Boss, what are you doing exactly, that’s my new bum design, I’m calling it the Brazen Buttock” He’d been keeping up with fashion, unlike his boss, and knew that, when it came to bums, bigger was definitely better.

“I’m painting a few” He did indeed have a paintbrush in hand and was drawing an outline, the tip of his tongue poking between his teeth as he concentrated on keeping his hand steady.

“Why and why only a few? I thought we could put that design into full production next week” This said with the kind of disgruntled irritation of an employee who feels that his talents are rarely fully recognised.

“I’m sending a message; I don’t think we’ll need more than 10,000 or so”

“10,000? That’s nothing! I might as well not have bothered!” He could barely stop a tear from falling

“Oh don’t sulk, these buttocks will be very, very special but just not for everyone that’s all” He was not actually an unkind boss and this was said with an encouraging smile. “I’m only going to use them for the creatures that think killing the furry ones is some sort of entertainment or a way to make that honey they all seem so keen on”

“Honey??…Do you mean money?”

“Yep that’s the kiddie. There I’ve finished, what do you think?” He held the buttocks before him proudly. Painted on them were 3 red rings with a red circle in the middle.

Ok, I get it, it’s a target but won’t they just be able to put trousers on or something?” To him it seemed like a pretty large flaw in an otherwise crazy plan.

“Not with the paint I’ve used.” Said with a sly grin “Do you remember when we decided we needed something to jazz up the firmament?”

“Sure, we bought in all that glow in the dark stuff……oh I get it now….ooohhh sneaky, I like it” He grinned broadly and remembered why this was the bloke in charge.

“Excellent! Now run down and find Old Bob and I’ll start fixing on some of these buttocks. I’ll teach those creatures to stop knocking off the furry ones if it’s the last thing I do” With grim determination he fixed his stare on a group of poachers; they didn’t know it but their lives (and their buttocks) were about to change forever.

This was written in response to an announcement from the charity Born Free that the tiger is at risk of extinction, thanks to mankind. The poachers who hunt them and the developers who destroy their habitat are on the road to ensuring that our grandchildren or great grandchildren may talk about tigers in the same way we talk about dodo’s. Therefore, I am using this post to try and do what little I can to help spread the word before these beautiful animals are lost to us forever….

Lisa x

 

 

The Meaning of Life Part 5 (maybe)

“What’s going on down there now?” said with delicate mastication and a small spray of biscuit crumbs

“Don’t sneak up on me like that! You made me jump and look…oh bugger….I’ve spilled my tea” There is much huffing and ineffectual wiping that does little to stem the steady flow as it makes its way across the desk

“What’s going on down there now?” said with delicate mastication and a small spray of biscuit crumbs

“Don’t sneak up on me like that! You made me jump and look…oh bugger….I’ve spilled my tea” There is much huffing and ineffectual wiping that does little to stem the steady flow as it makes its way across the desk

“So much for ‘all seeing'” snickers quietly

“What was that? Hmmm what did you say?” It’s surprising how effective hearing can become when an insult is in the wind.

“Nothing boss. Anyway, what’s going? Anything interesting?” He looks down onto the factory floor, trying to divert his bosses attention, not realising for several seconds that his left elbow is resting in a puddle of rapidly cooling tea “Sod it!”

“Mind your language! Not very much to be honest, all the usual: nice people being shot and complete bastards enjoying life; you know how it is”

“MY language!!? I’ve been meaning to ask, what’s that Dump bloke been up to lately? Did the essence of sheep have any effect when we brought him in for reprogramming?”

“Nope, not one iota and I’d made a fresh, extra concentrated batch especially; he’s still determined to put a bloody great metal wall across half my factory, damn cheek! Are you going to put the kettle on?”

“grumble…….it’s always me that makes the tea…….moan……mumble” There is the sound of a kettle being filled with much bad grace.

“And don’t forget the hobnobs while you’re at it. Do you know, I just don’t get it. Why would you want to shut yourself behind a huge wall, it makes no sense to me at all”

“Are you talking literally or metaphorically boss? Tea’s up by the way and we’ve run out of hobnobs but I managed to find some jammy dodgers”

“Literally. Mmm thanks, are those the ones with the cream in the middle or just jam?”

“Just jam. I don’t know guv, I mean, he’s got the walls of that big white house he lives in, walls around the gardens, people with guns behind those……makes you wonder what he’s afraid of really. I mean it’s not like he’s going to end up with all the good people on one side and all the bad ones on the other. Talk about naive” this was said with a slight pause mid-sentence to dislodge a particularly sticky smidgen of jam that had welded itself to the roof of his mouth and a roll of the eyes.

“Oh you know I don’t like those, have we got any shortbread? Yes, I’ve been wondering that too, so I’ve decided….oooh thanks, I thought we were out of hobnobs” happy munching ensues.

“So…you’ve decided…..”

“Oh, yes, right. I’ve decided to give him something to be really afraid of; can you go and get me one of those lightening bolts we keep stashed behind the hall cupboard?”

“You sure boss, they’re a bit old fashioned and not all that accurate if I remember rightly”

“I don’t need them to be that accurate but I will need a few of them if you don’t mind; can you see what stock we’ve got left? I think I’ll have some fun keeping him behind his walls for a little while….literally and metaphorically” There is an evil gleam in the eye that really shouldn’t be there but that won’t come as a surprise to most people……..

Lisa x

 

 

 

 

Friday Follies: Ooh Err Missus!

There are times when we should just unleash our inner adolescent and snicker at double entendres and that’s what’s on offer here. I came across Friday Follies thanks to Fandango but apparently it was the brainchild of his friend Proscenium so thanks to them both!

There are times when we should just unleash our inner adolescent and snicker at double entendres and that’s what’s on offer here. I came across Friday Follies thanks to Fandango but apparently it was the brainchild of his friend Proscenium so thanks to them both! Basically the idea is to look for billboard or advertising fails and share them with the WP gang; these are mine and I make no apology for them – I’m just a big kid at heart:

Love to be sitting

Dry crack

All three of these really made me chuckle, I hope they do the same for you :O)

Oops I’ve just realised that I’m a day late with this……oh well it still gave me a good laugh!

Lisa x

 

Bras and Hairdressers….

How on earth can those two things possibly be connected I hear you ask. Good question and one that I, like you, would not have contemplated until the other day when I found myself in the hair salon for my six weekly torture session  trim. As many of you know I do not enjoy being stuck in front of a mirror for an hour at a time while someone does creative things with scissors and hair gum (what is that?!?!?) but needs must….

How on earth can those two things possibly be connected I hear you ask. Good question and one that I, like you, would not have contemplated until the other day when I found myself in the hair salon for my six weekly torture session  trim. As many of you know I do not enjoy being stuck in front of a mirror for an hour at a time while someone does creative things with scissors and hair gum (what is that?!?!?) but needs must…..

I have grown to quite like my new hairdresser as he doesn’t laugh at my French, doesn’t expect me to make inane conversation about the weather or my next holiday and does a good job with my hair (yes, that does come third on that particular list). Anyhoo, this time he was busy snipping away and teeny tiny bits of hair were sticking to every centimetre of exposed flesh i.e. my face and hands; the rest of me being covered by something resembling a straight jacket…or so I thought..

Despite his intense concentration he’d obviously noticed me attempting to blow bits of hair from my own face (not easy!) and turned on the hairdryer which he then turned on me. Had I still lived in England I could have asked for this most blessed of reliefs but I don’t know the words for ‘hairdryer’, ‘itchy’ or ‘hair clippings’ in French so I couldn’t. It felt great and I started to relax again…..

It was then that I noticed a new itch; it had not been apparent when I had red fire ants  bits of hair stuck all over my face but now it was making itself known. It appeared that the straight jacket the salon had equipped me with was not altogether secure and several hair clippings had somehow found their way into my bra. Bugger.

Hurry upI mean, what the hell do you do in that situation? It was not as if I could just ram my hand down the front of my bra and fish around for all the itchy bits and anyway experience told me that teeny tiny bits of hair stick! I tried to retain my composure and I think I kept wriggling to a minimum but I was praying that my hairdresser would step it up a bit so I could get out of there or, failing that, realise what was wrong and hand me the hairdryer so I could shove it down my bra. Sadly, he did neither….

30 minutes of rigorous self control  later he gave me a huge beaming smile and told me that he was finished. I found it hard to be enthusiastic to be honest as my left boob was still undergoing exquisite torture. However, I did my best and asked to make another appointment. It was then that he told me he’s moving to Australia….so I need to find a new hairdresser……again. Bugger!

We said a fond farewell and I exited the salon with my head held high, before screaming into the nearest toilet where I ripped off my t-shirt and bra; the relief was indescribable!

So, there you have it, the connection between bras and hairdressers. Perhaps you have such a tale to tell? If so, I’d love to hear from you ;O)

Lisa

x

The Learning Slope….

What, do you find, is the best way of learning? If you have to put together some flat pack furniture, for example, do you read every word of the instructions, carefully lay out every last screw and nut or do you just sling everything on the floor and figure it out from there?

What, do you find, is the best way of learning? If you have to put together some flat pack furniture, for example, do you read every word of the instructions, carefully lay out every last screw and nut or do you just sling everything on the floor and figure it out from there? The first way will ensure that you spend a lot of time reading and preparing but you will have a perfect bookcase, or whatever, at the end of it. The second way bypasses the boring bits and may or may not result in a bookcase depending on how many screws you lose and how many bits are thrown out of the nearest window in a fit of frustration…..

I am definitely a ‘let’s get on with it and see what happens’ type of learner…I pick things up as I go along. My husband was quite the opposite; building flat pack furniture in our house was definitely a one man job……I made the tea and stopped the cats from ‘helping’. Anyway, one day, for reasons that escape me, we decided to go skiing; as we lived in Essex the only options available to us were a plane ride to somewhere with snow and mountains or a trip to the local dry slope, we chose the latter. I am a bit of speed freak and was looking forward to hurtling down the slope like a lycra clad rocket; the reality was just a tiny bit different…..

BoredFirstly I was not allowed to buy any type of ski wear because, apparently, I might not like skiing. I argued – I’d be whizzing down a slope with two strips of wood strapped to my feet, what’s not to like? – I lost. So, there we were one Saturday morning in jeans and jumpers (!) full of anticipation and ready to hit the slopes. Well, I was ready, my husband just wanted to listen to the instructor as he explained how to put the skis on. After a few minutes my husband was gingerly manoeuvering himself towards the slope while I was still trying to work out what was wrong with my skis (apparently I was trying to put them on backwards). After the instructor had explained, again, and I had listened, for the first time, we were off…..

I’d seen the dry slope as we’d driven in and I couldn’t wait to get started; it was huge and white and people were flying down it; oohhhh I was so excited!

“Here we are then” said the instructor

He was standing in front of, what I can only describe as a miniature hillock. It was tiny and where we would learn the basics of skiing apparently.

“First we will learn how to make our way up the slope”

“Don’t you have ski lifts?”

I asked after watching the instructor inch his way up to the top, sideways, in a matter of seconds

He and my husband both gave me a look and then ignored me. The ascent was not as easy as it had first appeared and required exercising muscles that I hadn’t previously realised I owned. It seemed that balance was a bit of an issue as well and there was some falling over and quite a bit of swearing before I made my way to the top. Quite frankly, by this point I was bored. This was not what I had imagined when I thought of skiing; there was no elegant gliding, just lots of wobbling and sweating. However, I was cheered by the thought that, after our clumsy ascent, we would now be able to do the fun bit and slide back down again…..

But no. We were given a lecture on safety and then told that we would  be learning how to make our way down the slope slowly and carefully. This involved trying to turn our knees inside out in order to bring the tips of out skis to a point, which would slow us down and then stretch thigh muscles to twanging point to part the skis which would enable us to glide forwards. My husband was doing exactly as instructed and asking lots of questions as well; he was given praise and encouragement for his efforts; I was told off for going too fast. You see, I had mastered the going forward bit but my knees didn’t really want to turn inside out so slowing down and stopping was a bit tricky (this is a lie, I was bored and wanted to go faster).

There was a fence at the bottom of the slope so I sort of turned my hips to avoid crashing into it (I have a great sense of self-preservation) and, lo and behold I stopped. I was again told off for not using the method that we’d been taught but I thought ‘what the hell’, I didn’t hit the fence and that was good enough for me! We had several lessons after that and even moved on to a taller slope. My husband was still following every single instruction with great care and progressing well, earning lots of smiles. I was ignoring most of the boring bits and having great fun going faster and faster down the slope; I could stop but still hadn’t really mastered slowing down. I earned lots of frowns, both the annoyed and worried kind.

Finally the day arrived when we were taken to the BIG slope. Hurrah!! This one did actually have a ski lift. It was not quite as I’d imagined as it pretty much involved  just shoving a pole between your legs and hanging on for dear life before letting go once you’d reached the summit; it was nothing like I’d seen on the TV! Anyway, we reached the top and I was ready to soar. Both the instructor and my husband were offering last minute advice and words of caution but all I could hear was the wind in my ears; I got into position and I was off…..

expectation.pngIt was amazing! I really felt as though I was flying………for about 30 seconds. I don’t really know what happened but I was going off course and heading towards grass…very, very quickly. My turn and stop had worked pretty well on the little slopes but now my hips were pointing resolutely forward while my eyes were fixed, staring at the grass and…..oh shit, the concrete steps that I was hurtling towards. I tried to remember my lessons but there was just nothing (mainly because I hadn’t been listening) so I did the only thing I could think of; I threw myself sideways, crashed to the ground and slid for a bit before eventually coming to a stop, nose down.

It turned out that, what looked like snow from a distance, was actually a lattice work of some kind of plastic. At some point during my tumble my finger had got caught up in the lattice; it had a choice of supporting my entire body weight which was still travelling at some speed or snapping; it chose the latter. I seemed to be missing a fair amount of skin from my arms where my jumper had tried to escape during the fall (I was sure that would not have happened had I bought the appropriate clothing) and bruises were already forming. I cried. I was humiliated and many bits of me hurt….

My husband, on the other hand, had managed a slow but perfect descent and was gaily waving to me as he mounted the ski life for his second go; I tried to smile through the pain! I went off skiing a bit after that and I don’t think we ever went back again. Now, I live very close to the Alps so, come January, I’m going to try skiing on actual snow; I will print off this post and take it with me……….

Have you ever had an episode like that which resulted from ignoring sage words of advice? Let me know, I’d love to hear from you!

Lisa x

 

 

 

Going Down?

Have you ever had one of those moments when you just can’t seem to fathom what’s going on and rather than mentally reaching for the simplest explanation, you arrive at the most unlikely? Logic points you in one direction but your inbuilt sense of drama takes you in quite another……

Have you ever had one of those moments when you just can’t seem to fathom what’s going on and rather than mentally reaching for the simplest explanation, you arrive at the most unlikely? Logic points you in one direction but your inbuilt sense of drama takes you in quite another……

I had a moment like that yesterday; for those of you who read my stuff regularly this will not come as a surprise. To explain, the vast majority of parking in Monaco is underground (bear with me things will become clear) so, as I have an almost pathological dislike of stairs I am frequently in lifts. I have left my car underground so to get back to the surface I hit the button marked 0 – logical yes? Good; bear this in mind……

The other day I decided to go out for a long walk (around 6.5km) and, in the spirit of adventure, I took a new route. I did not get lost which came as something of a surprise but at the 4kmish mark I was faced with a choice: lots of stairs or a lift; you can guess which option I took. I stepped into the lift, hit the button marked 0 and danced around a bit as one of my favourite tracks was blasting away on my headphones…..what? I was on my own and as far as I know there were no cameras (note to self: check YouTube later).

Confused 2Anyway, after a few seconds I realised that the doors hadn’t opened, “On my God I’m trapped!!!” was the thought that sprang immediately into my mind. The lift was really small and felt as though it was becoming smaller by the second. I span round and looked at the panel on the wall, thank God, there’s a button to open the door, what a relief. I hit the button and the lift doors dutifully opened. That’s odd, I thought, that doesn’t look like where I’m supposed to be……

It took another few seconds for me to realise that what I was seeing was the path that led to the lift………which hadn’t moved an inch……was it broken or what? Was I going to be forced to take the stairs??? I looked. There were a lot of stairs and my legs ached…oh hang on a minute, there’s a sign…it took a minute to translate and it said nothing at all about the lift being broken. Hmmmm.

I stepped back into the lift and revisited the panel. Had I missed something? Yes. I had. I was not in a car park. The entrance to the lift was on the ground floor….getting there, come on brain. I had pressed 0…..yep nearly there………I need to go up…….keep going…….oooohhhhhhhh (realisation strikes), I should have pressed 1. Yes folks there were only two buttons and I had pressed the wrong one; I’m really not very bright sometimes………..

Anyway, on that note, I’m off.  Not permanently but I’m going back to Blighty for a few days, I’ve scheduled a couple of posts just so you don’t forget about me while I’m gone but I won’t be about very much so, if I don’t respond, please don’t think I’m ignoring you :O)

Lisa

x

The Meaning of Life: Part 4

Have you ever wondered what the World would be like as viewed from the perspective of the grand creator? Well, read on……….

Sometime before we arrived on the scene, this was going on.

“What the bloody hell is that?” A booming voice called out across the factory floor

“I am not quite sure what to call it to be perfectly honest with you but, you’ve got to admit boss it’s impressive”

Have you ever wondered what the World would be like as viewed from the perspective of the grand creator? Well, read on……….

Sometime before we arrived on the scene, this was going on.

“What the bloody hell is that?” A booming voice called out across the factory floor

“I am not quite sure what to call it to be perfectly honest with you but, you’ve got to admit boss it’s impressive”

The second voice was deferential, if calling someone boss counts as such; it was also trying to sound encouraging.

“It’s big, that’s all and it’s not all about the size you know”

There was no real reprimand, more weariness from one who has had this conversation more than once

“That’s not what I’d heard…..” snigger

“Stop it now” One delicately raised but slight menacing eyebrow was enough to curtail the sniggering

“But I like making them big boss and it’s not like we haven’t got the space” this said with much arm waving and gazing around as if this would somehow reinforce the point being made.

“Yes. I know. The problem is that you never stick to the bloody design; I spent ages coming up with the concept of a predator to balance things out down there and what have you done? The head’s nothing but teeth, the eyes are like piss holes in the snow………”

“What’s snow boss” curiosity got the better of him

“It’s something new I’m working on but I can’t get the temperature quite right, it’s giving me some real headaches I can tell you….Don’t change the subject! As I was saying, it’s got those teeny tiny little arms which are completely useless, I mean, how is it going to catch its prey?”

He was rarely ratty but this mucking about with his designs was getting way out of hand.

“Like this………..”

with a beaming smile he flicked the on switch, located under the smallest toenail of the right foot (in case you were wondering)

“SHIT! Run!”

Sometime later when the off switch had been flicked (located in the left testicle so you had two options if you really needed to slow the thing down) and all the mess had been cleared up..

“I’ve made a cup of tea boss if you fancy one and I found some chocolate biscuits”

With a rictus grin he put down the tray and scuffed his toe gently along the floor, not looking up.

“How many of them are there down there?”

Resigned now, slightly tired after the sprint round the factory but still feeling satisfied that his boot had found the off switch he waited.

“Umm, a few. Well, quite a lot actually. Not sure it was my best work to be honest boss, they do seem to be causing a bit of havoc”

The toe scuffing continued and there was definitely a hint of embarrassment in the air.

“Right, so as bloody usual, I’ve got to sort out the mess, yes?”

“Ummm, yes…….sorry” The embarrassment that had been in the air was now stuck to his face

“Typical! Right, never mind, I think I can work something out with the snow, take the temperature down a bit, see if I can make it solid and use that to stop the buggers”

He looked thoughtful for a moment and said

“I’ve got to ask, did you ever come up with a name?”

Embarrassment rescinded a tad and a touch of pride took its place

“I did as it happens……Tyranosaurus Ralph; what do you think”

He helped himself to a biscuit, safe in the knowledge of a job well done, or at least, part of a job not totally bodged.

“I think it needs work” he tried very hard not to roll his eyes “pass the biscuits”.

“And, incidentally, next week you’ll be working on something a bit different, just until I’ve got Ralph under control”

“Yes boss, anything you say, have you got the plans?”

 He was eager to redeem himself; now he’d heard ‘Ralph’ said out loud his pride had wandered off looking a bit sheepish and was refusing to come back.

“What? Oh yes, over there. They’re called birds until I can come up with a better name and they’re a bit fiddly”

He was concentrating on the carnage going on down below and wondering if he had time to sort out the snow problem; he could just throw some bloody great rocks at them he thought

“Is this to scale boss? They’re a bit small”

He turned the drawing round a few times but it didn’t make a scrap of difference

“YES!”

Just Do it 3 Times……

Have you ever read something on the internet and thought ‘that just has to be a joke’ and then you realise that it isn’t and you start banging your head gently on the nearest hard surface and wondering when everyone went mad? It’s never anything major, just a little something which immediately brings to mind the immortal words of John McEnroe, “You cannot be serious!”

Have you ever read something on the internet and thought ‘that just has to be a joke’ and then you realise that it isn’t and you start banging your head gently on the nearest hard surface and wondering when everyone went mad? It’s never anything major, just a little something which immediately brings to mind the immortal words of John McEnroe, “You cannot be serious!”

You cannot be seriousThe latest of these seems to be an attempt to alter basic biology whilst at the same time making men feel guilty about something that is in no way their fault. It’s lauded as being a way to ‘bring colleagues together’. What am I talking about? The menopause. Apparently it should not be a ‘women only‘ issue. Hmmmmmm? How’s that going to work then?

Is someone going to follow all the men in the office with a portable steamer in hand and shove it down the front of their shirt every hour or so? Will their skin be given a good going over with sand paper and then blasted with salt every few days? Will they be woken up in the middle of the night by someone drenching them in warm water? Perhaps someone will invent a mood destabiliser that will take their emotional state from ‘I love you so much’ to ‘Will you stop annoying me! If you have to breathe do it quietly’ in a matter of minutes. There could be a scientists out their right now working out how to artificially dry out their lady bits……oh no wait they don’t have lady bits…….

Nope we can forget all that, apparently the way to bring colleagues together is for men to say ‘menopause’ during the working day, preferably 3 times; presumably they then click their red slippers and instantly have a hot flush. What the actual F is wrong with these people?????? Is there more to it than that you ask, well yes there is; does it make any more sense you’re wondering? No, it doesn’t.

The other thing menopausal women can do to help colleagues understand their symptoms is to jot them down in a communal book, I wonder how that would read?

“I just accidentally sat on a spider and now it’s dead, I can’t stop crying”

“If John from accounting doesn’t stop with that ridiculous laugh of his I’m going to go over there and force feed him his stapler”

“I’ve just taken off 4 of my 5 layers of clothing, my hair’s all over the place, I’m sweating, my face is like a boiled beetroot and someone just had a go at me for wearing my vest in the office…..and now I’m freezing, has anyone seen my jumper?”

“I think I’m going to have to stock up on my supply of KY jelly on the way home”

“My boobs are going to end up touching my navel at this rate”

“When did my skin start looking so old”

I have to scream nowIt could be one woman jotting all this down before lunchtime. Please tell me how it will be of any benefit at all to her male colleagues to have this kind of insight? Would the women in the office benefit from knowing, in lurid detail, the emotional and psychological problems caused by erectile disfunction? Perhaps companies could start a book for that:

“Vigorous stimulation last night caused slight friction burns and I think I’ve got a touch of RSI”

“Is it wrong that I only succeeded last night by visualising Joan in the warehouse, sitting on the forktruck in nothing but thigh high waders?”

Perhaps, instead, we should stop all of this bloody nonsense and remember that men and women are different and no amount of sharing or chanting the word ‘menopause’ 3 times a day is going to change that.

What do you think? Is this a forward thinking initiative or a load of old bollocks?

I’d love to hear from you :O)

Lisa x

 

 

 

 

The Meaning of Life: Part 3

“Have we got any biscuits? I’m feeling a bit peckish”

“You’re not peckish, you’ve only just had lunch. You’re just bored; you know you don’t like it when it’s too quiet in the factory”

“Look if I want a sodding biscuit………oh hang on a minute what’s going on over there…”

“Have we got any biscuits? I’m feeling a bit peckish”

“You’re not peckish, you’ve only just had lunch. You’re just bored; you know you don’t like it when it’s too quiet in the factory”

“Look if I want a sodding biscuit………oh hang on a minute what’s going on over there…”

“What? Where?”

“Over there look, someone’s making a declaration of some sort; this should be interesting….wait…oh no, that’s torn it!”

“hmmm? munch, munch, what?”

“Where did you get that biscuit?! Didn’t you hear what he just said? It’s a disaster”

“Sorry, no, it’s the biscuit, it’s really crunchy……”

“He just said “All Men are Created Equal”

“He didn’t?!!???”

“He bloody did! Will you stop spraying crumbs all over my desk”

“He can’t say that boss, there’ll be chaos!”

“Well duh, you think?”

“There’s no need to be sarcastic………what are we going to do about it?”

“Not a lot we can do is there, the words are out there now. Go and put the kettle on and I’ll see how much essence of sheep we’ve got left”

“I told you that free will would give us a problem…..more sheep essence I said….can’t go wrong with sheep I said……”

“Stop muttering, I’m trying to think”

“I was just saying………you’re just in a bad mood because I ate the last biscuit”

“The last….??? Look forget about biscuits for a minute, I’ve had an idea. Why don’t we give them a template”

“What do you mean, a template?”

“You know, we’ll take all the best bits of the ones that are down there now and make a template so they’ll know what they all need to be equal to, otherwise they’ll just be squabbling about this for ever more. You know what they’re like ‘your mountain’s got more trees on it, it’s not fair’, ‘our deity’s bigger than yours’, ‘he’s got more cows than me’, honestly, it never stops! Nope, we’ll give them a template and they’ll all want to be like that and everyone will be equal. It’s brilliant!”

“When you say the best bits what do you mean? Really good hair and a nice bum? I did a great bum the other day, round and peachy, perfectly symmetrical….I was proud of that bum…”

“What are you rambling about? No, I’m talking about kindness, understanding, compassion, intelligence, honesty, determination….the good bits”

“The bits you do you mean?”

“Well, I suppose so yes…”

“Typical!”

“Oh don’t get all huffy, you can do the bum alright?”

“Yay! Let’s get cracking!”

“Yes ha ha, ‘cracking’ very funny”

“What?”

“Never mind, just get on with it”

Time passes………..

“Finished!”

“How can it take so long to do one bum? No don’t answer that, just stick it on….no, other way up…..right good it’s ready to go”

More time passes….

“How’s the template going boss? Did they get it? Are they all feeling nice and equal now?”

“I don’t want to talk about it”

“Why? What happened?”

“………..they shot him”

“Bugger! Oh well better luck next time, fancy a biscuit?”

“I’m not hungry”

Ghandi quote

 

Have a great day everyone

Lisa x

 

 

 

 

Le? La? Oh La La!

Good morning to all in the World of Blog :O) I have a question for you: how many of you guys have taken it upon yourselves to learn a second language? Most of us were forced into it a school, endlessly counting to 10, learning how to say ‘the monkey is in the tree’ or this is the cauliflower of my Aunt but how many of you have tried as adults? It’s not easy is it?

Good morning to all in the World of Blog :O) I have a question for you: how many of you guys have taken it upon yourselves to learn a second language? Most of us were forced into it a school, endlessly counting to 10, learning how to say ‘the monkey is in the tree’ or this is the cauliflower of my Aunt but how many of you have tried as adults? It’s not easy is it?

As many of you know, I am English but I live in the South of France. This means that I have had to try and get my head around the French language as I need to be able to buy stuff to eat, find out where the toilets are and order a glass of wine (or three). Now, I’m the first to admit that I can be a bit of an airhead at times but I am pretty logical so I have looked for patterns in the French language and it has served me well except when it comes to ‘le’ and ‘la’, the masculine and feminine. For those of you who don’t know, every single noun in French has been given a sex and for those of us who have grown up with asexual words, it can make life a little tricky.

As is my wont I decided to apply some logic and figured that there must be some words that have to be feminine because the words are female specific and vice versa; big mistake! This will give you an idea of what I am up against:

The word for ‘beard’ is ‘la barbe’. Yes ‘la’ which means that the word is feminine. Now whilst I accept that, as we get older especially, some women are prone to the odd stray chin hair there are very few of us who will ever sport full mutton chops whereas men have no trouble at all in this department so why oh why is the word feminine???

On the other hand the word for ‘bra’ is ‘le soutien-gorge’. Why? OK, many men enjoy taking bras off and I’m sure there are some who enjoy putting them on but, as a general rule it’s women who own the boobs and therefore women who need the bras, non?

This leads me on to lipstick; hands up guys out there who wear lipstick on a daily basis…..and now the women….right, based on those numbers ‘lipstick’ should be a feminine word yes? Wrong! It’s ‘le rouge a levres’

Added to this, the French also have a few phrases that I am convinced were introduced to the language for the sole purpose of embarrassing foreigners. The worst of these will be likely to trip you up in the middle of summer when temperatures have risen and you are sweating your socks off. Quite naturally, in English we say, ‘I’m hot’ and people will either agree with you or tell you to stop moaning about the weather because you know damn well it will be raining next week. The literal translation for this is French is:

Je (I) suis (am) chaude (hot)

crowd-shockedUnfortunately, this means ‘I am horny’. This simple error will lead to raised eyebrows, hopeful looks or great hilarity depending on who’s company you’re in when you say it! The correct expression is:

J’ai chaude, the literal translation for which is ‘I have hot’.

Having made many such grammatical errors (including saying ‘I was rogered senseless’ when I wanted to say ‘I got off [the motorbike]’, just don’t ask) I decided to pick my best friend’s brain in an attempt to figure out the logic behind all this. His reply was a typically Gallic shrug and ‘The Academie Francaise’ decides’.

“Yes but how do they decide?”

“They decide because they decide it is like that”

And with that I have to be satisfied until the men in their Eiffel towers decide to offer any kind of logical explanation.

All that said, I adore the French language and learning it is a really fun challenge, not just for me but my French friends too ;O)

I’d love to hear about your experiences with foreign languages so please feel free to comment

Lisa x