Ok…..I finally bit the bullet and went to lulu.com to publish my Book of Spam Feel free to v…
Ok…..I finally bit the bullet and went to lulu.com to publish my Book of Spam Feel free to visit the site and have a look around, this is my first attempt at putting one of these together…...I’ve used shots you’ll all recognise from my Spam photos. I’ve only made it a 20 pager, so there’s a good chance a second edition will be forthcoming :) Ideal Christmas present, everyone!!!! hehe
Over the next few months I intend to take those willing to read, on a literary adventure through the bubble. As an investigative journali…
Over the next few months I intend to take those willing to read, on a literary adventure through the bubble. As an investigative journalist and member of the bubble I will aim to place some meaning behind some of the more interesting and popular images on the bubble, I will endeavour to give the reader insight into such important questions as… • Is there a relationship going on between Paul Vanzella and Jo O’Brien / • Does Mel Brackstone wear waders all the time and does her tripod have crustaceans and seaweed on it / • Who would win the fight if Stuart Chapman and Mel Brackstone met on a beach? / • Flibble how does he do that? / • Deborah Parkin has she painted her house and family black and white on purpose I am sure that there will be more questions that I will investigate over time and if there are specific issues that you feel need answers then get in touch and I’ll see what I can do. please note that all comments are completely fictitious and intended to be humorous. The journal relates to my interpretation of the art and to stories that I make up about the artist as a bubble characters rather than focusing on the real people behind the art This has been inspired by a comment from Paul Vanzella relating to the comments that I have posted on several of his recent works – all of which I find truly astounding Andrew
Following several knock backs and aborted attempts to gain access to Paul Vanzella I have finally…
Following several knock backs and aborted attempts to gain access to Paul Vanzella I have finally managed to jimmy the lock and enter the building that houses his workshop. It’s quite dirty to look at, yet remains aesthetically pleasing at the same time (much like a lot of his work). I have no doubt that I’m going in the right direction. There are bright flashes of light from the other end of this cavernous room, a cackling laughter can be heard along with a drone of generators / I’m entering the inner sanctum, the magic place that Paul (the Van Man) Vanzella creates his masterpieces. It’s hard to get into the corner, the bric a brack thickens as you get closer, then after squeezing between a digger and a airplane fuselage (that I’m sure I have seen before), I’m there! Blinking in the full glare of the spotlights lighting this whole area! / “WHO DARES DISTURB ME?” booms a voice from the shadows, I can just make out the outline of a figure in the lights. It looks like one of the aliens from Close encounters!!! Shock horror – Paul Vanzella is not human, hold on a moment, that’s hardly news is it, I mean we have all seen his work! / From behind me I hear movement, like the wind through silk curtains, suddenly I realise that I’m not here in the light on my own! Oh no the Van-man is in the middle of a shoot, that means if I turn round I’ll get an eyeful of Jo (No Clothes) O’Brien. / Trying to ‘nonchalantly’ turn around, I manage to avoid the expected whiplash and there in front of me stands No Clothes O’Brien ! In the nip , her birthday suit, wearing just a smile! Do I need to go on? / She looks less than happy at me being there! “how dare you” she squeeks, “we were just in the middle of recreating the Venus Di Milo! But we were going to call it the Jo Di Milo” ahh that explains the strange yellow sheen to Miss O’Brien’s skin, and here was me thinking it was jaundice. She makes no move to hide herself, instead she hisses, “best look elsewhere four eyes or I’ll turn those glasses your wearing into contact lenses!” she’s not joking there’s a real violence in her you can see it in her eyes and the scabs on her knuckles! / Turning back was where I got the whiplash “just do exactly as I say and nobody will get hurt” she whispered into my ear “isn’t that right Pauly?” she cackled. The lights dimmed and I could make the Van Man out a little clearer, he wasn’t an alien he was chained to the camera, in fact 5 camera’s hung round his neck making him visibly stoop, his ankles were chained together…a look of the defeated in his eyes he mouthed “Help Me…”. / So there we have it, Paul Vanzella is being held against his will and forced to take pictures of Jo ‘No Clothes’ O’Brien (his number one fan!), in her dastardly scheme to take over the bubble with the power and volume of her image. Oh the inhumanity of it! PLEASE NOTE THAT THE EPISODES FOLLOW ON FROM EACH OTHER IN A SOAP OPERA STYLE. WHILST EACH EPISODE SHOULD BE A STORY IN ITSELF IT IS HOPED THEY THREAD TOGETHER. THERE ARE MORE EPISODES TO READ, JUST CLICK HERE! SOAP BUBBLE please note that all comments are completely fictitious and intended to be humorous. The journal relates to my interpretation of the art and to stories that I make up about the artist as a bubble characters rather than focusing on the real people behind the art
Following the astounding feedback that has been received from my last foray into investigative journalism I felt that I’d best get the se…
Following the astounding feedback that has been received from my last foray into investigative journalism I felt that I’d best get the second instalment out before the lynch mob catches up in the vain hope that it will stop them for a while and give me a better chance of hiding from them. Anyway I managed to sneak out of the Paul Vanzella image factory whilst Jo No Clothes was ‘ re-educating ’ Paul on what she considers acceptable behaviour. His screams for mercy drowned out the sound of my escape! Okay I appreciate that it was cruel of me to leave him, but fair reader, I was lucky to escape with my notebook! She’s a wild animal and as soon as I can enlist the help of 3 Commando Brigade I will return to save that poor, poor man from the clutches of that venomous wild woman. Get on with it I hear you cry… / So what about the next instalment, well after much research and a twenty minute scan around the favourites board, I noticed that there’s this bloke called Mel Brackstone doing strange things down on the beach. Stop with the dirty thoughts you lot, I mean with his camera!... Oh, that makes it sound positively disgusting. Anyway, moving along I went down to the bubble beach. The bubble beach is very different to the beaches that I’m used to elsewhere, the water doesn’t look like it usually does it’s more like a milkshake than normal water, and as for the clouds and sky well that’s just plain weird ! It was here that I first spotted silhouette of the man-mountain that is Mel Brackstone , he stood there with the surf crashing around him standing at least 7 foot tall and as wide as a garage door, the water seemed to part rather than try to wash him away. I was surprised that this giant was the creator of so many amazing yet delicate pictures. There was a loud crack which I initially thought was the sound of a rifle being fired, I later discovered that this was the manual shutter release of Mel’s salt encrusted camera. The shot taken he started wading to shore, a mass of thick unkempt dirty orange hair was the first thing I saw of the giant as clouds shrouded the rising sun and allowed me my first clear view of this man mountain. Dear readers, I know there has been at least one fact niggling one or two of you up until this moment, may I point out at this stage that I had only managed 20 minutes of research before heading down to the beach, most of this had involved my locating flip flops, bucket and spade and tying knots in a hankie. It had completely escaped me that Mel could be a girl’s name, and her appearance in the surf had only affirmed my assumptions that Mel was indeed a big fella. Dear god was this woman huge! She towered over me, legs like tree trunks were encased in rubber waders, grief I never realised that rubber could stretch like that, or that it came in such large sizes! Her torso was encased in a dirty green waxed cotton jacket, well I assumed it was, on closer inspection I realised that it was a modified boy scouts tent. Readers, can I state for the record right here that Mel Brackstone is indeed a BIG WOMAN, some might say manly, what is certain is that she has a strange musky smell about her, it was hard to explain but certainly was a concoction between damp seaweed and decaying fish, I put it down to a life spent on the seashore and felt certain that it was in my best interest not to mention it. Her eyes a very pale washed out blue, were distant as though they focused 10 feet beyond the back of my head. Later research has revealed that this is a chronic eye condition of extreme long-sightedness and is an occupational hazard for the true landscape artist, some of the great landscape artists could not see anything closer than half a mile. Indeed Mel’s condition was well on the way to this level of severity. She realised that I was there and with effort focussed in on me, Imagine a seven foot giant woman with wild ginger hair going cross eyed in front of you and you try not to laugh? Trust me the smell stopped everything apart from a smirk. “MY BEACH” she shouted, her voice so loud it nearly burst my eardrums! “MY BEACH, MY BEACH GET YOUR FILTHY CARCASS OFF MY BEACH”. It was right about this moment that I realised that all this time on the beach and constantly listening to the crashing of surf had resulted in a certain level of mental health issues for the lady. Either that or she was really pissed off about me being on her beach and my running away screaming “help, help crazy giant lady on the loose”. Following my abortive attempt to interview Mel Brackstone I decided to find out more about the wild lady of the beach and why she behaves like she does. Interviews with some of the other beach bums that have made their homes in the sand dunes around the beach have revealed the crazy world of Mel Brackstone . She moved here as a child and now considers the beach as her front room. The time alone has resulted in her now being as mad as a box of frogs, she now see’s the whole area as hers , when she sleeps she uses old free papers as her sheets, which not only explains the titles to a lot of her photo’s and the destruction of the amazon for wood pulp, when she catches anyone taking pictures from her beach she forces them to hand over their camera and sells the artist into slavery as stock photographers!! C’mon why would they lie, I mean , beach bums, salt of the earth they are (and so willing to share their stories for a bottle of cheap booze). And so dear readers, I draw the curtains on another sad and pitiful image of life from within the bubble… sleep well. please note that all comments are completely fictitious and intended to be humorous. The journal relates to my interpretation of the art and to stories that I make up about the artist as a bubble characters rather than focusing on the real people behind the art / the main protagonist of this Soap bubble has given their approval for this story PLEASE NOTE THAT THE EPISODES FOLLOW ON FROM EACH OTHER IN A SOAP OPERA STYLE. WHILST EACH EPISODE SHOULD BE A STORY IN ITSELF IT IS HOPED THEY THREAD TOGETHER. THERE ARE MORE EPISODES TO READ, JUST CLICK HERE! SOAP BUBBLE
Here’s a response to all the emails we receive warning and advising us on what to do and not do in order to lead more happy fulfilled and…
Here’s a response to all the emails we receive warning and advising us on what to do and not do in order to lead more happy fulfilled and prosperous lives:- / ........ / Dear All My thanks to all those who have sent me emails this past year…..... I must send my thanks to whoever it was who sent me the one about cockroach eggs in the glue on envelopes because I now have to use a wet towel with every envelope that needs sealing. Also, I now have to scrub the top of every can I open for the same reason. I no longer have a lot of savings because I gave it to a sick girl (Penny Brown); who is about to die in hospital for the 1,387,258th time. Or signed across my bank accoutn details to the senior bank clerk in Nigeria who wants me to split £7 million with me for pretending to be a long lost relative of a customer who died. I no longer worry about my soul because I have 363,214 angels looking out for me, and St. Theresa’s novena has granted my every wish. I no longer use cancer-causing deodorants even though I smell like a water buffalo on a hot day. Thanks to you, I have learned that my prayers only get answered if I forward e-mail to seven of my friends and make a wish within five minutes / Because of your concern I no longer drink Coca-Cola because it can remove toilet stains – just as well really! I no longer can buy petrol without having to watch and make sure that a serial killer won’t crawl in my back seat when I’m filling up and later grab me from behind whilst drawing a jagged edged blade across my throat. I no longer go to shopping centres because someone will drug me with a male deodorant sample and rob me after using me as a sex toy - I no longer answer the phone because someone will ask me to dial a number for which I will get a phone bill with calls to Jamaica , Uganda , Singapore and Uzbekistan – posing as Borat on the other end of the line! Thanks also, cause now I can’t use anyone’s toilet but mine because a big brown African spider is lurking under the seat to cause me instant death when it bites my bum. And thanks to the great advice I’ve been sent, I can’t even pick up the £5.00 I found dropped in the car park because it probably was placed there by a pervert molester waiting underneath my car waiting to grab me and have his way with me. If you don’t send this e-mail to at least 144,000 people in the next 70 minutes, a large dove with diarrhoea will land on your head at 5:00pm this afternoon and the fleas from 12 camels will infest your back, causing you to grow a hairy hump. I know this will occur because it actually happened to a friend of my next door neighbour’s ex-mother-in-law’s second husband’s cousin’s beautician. By the way….a South American scientist after a lengthy study has discovered that people with low IQ who have infrequent sexual activity always read their e-mails with their hand on the mouse. Don’t bother taking it off now, it’s too late Happy New Year to All xxx / / / Suzanne German – December – 2007.
Just because most of the world is recovering from consuming too much alcohol, that is no excuse not to buy a card already. Well, maybe th…
Just because most of the world is recovering from consuming too much alcohol, that is no excuse not to buy a card already. Well, maybe there’s better things to do. ;) Enjoy your 2008 folks. :) Ha, just noticed this journal entry is dated December 31, 2007. Is the bubble operating on American time? Hey, I wrote this entry at 9.40am January 1, 2008 Melbourne, Australia time! LOL.
Happy New Year everyone (approx 639 threads at last count) / I’m leaving RedBubble because I have a high opinion of myself / I’m baaack fro…
Happy New Year everyone (approx 639 threads at last count) / I’m leaving RedBubble because I have a high opinion of myself / I’m baaack from holidays and have a shite load of holiday snaps / Finally, I’ve sold a card after being a member for 3 days / Can RedBubble provide their confidential sales chart NOW / My New Year’s resolution is to lose my husband and 10 kilos / Can group moderators please send more bubblemails? / Sorry, I’ve cut my favourites back to 135 pages / I’ve won a Kodak Box Brownie. Just what I always needed / Practicing exclamation marks!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! / Name three songs of joy / I have to return to work Monday for my weekly AU$3000 pay packet / WOW, I’ve had 15,000 views on my cat pic in one week / We’ve had a foot of snow overnight / I find it difficult to write journal entries / It’s time to mark-up my art 500% / I don’t feel guilty I can’t comment on everyone’s art / Blowing my own clarinet / Announcing the annual Manangatang Photo Competition
HUMOUR FOR LEXOPHILES ( Lovers of Words) I wondered why the baseball was getting bigger; Then it hit me. Police were called t…
HUMOUR FOR LEXOPHILES ( Lovers of Words) I wondered why the baseball was getting bigger; Then it hit me. Police were called to a day care where a three-year-old was resisting a rest. / / Did you hear about the guy whose whole left side was cut off? He’s all right now. The biggest knight at King Arthur’s round table was Sir Cumference. The butcher backed up into the meat grinder and got a little behind in his work. To write with a broken pencil is pointless. When fish are in schools they sometimes take debate. / / The short fortune teller who escaped from prison was a small medium at large. Did you hear about the thief who stole a calendar and got twelve months? A thief fell and broke his leg in wet cement and became a hardened criminal. When the smog lifts in Los Angeles , U.C.L.A. The professor discovered that her theory of earthquakes was on shaky ground. The dead batteries were given out free of charge. If you take a laptop computer for a run you could jog your memory. A dentist and a manicurist fought tooth and nail. A bicycle can’t stand alone; it is two tired. A will is a dead giveaway. Time flies like an arrow; fruit flies like a banana. A backward poet writes inverse. In a democracy it’s your vote that counts; in feudalism, it’s your Count that votes. A chicken crossing the road is poultry in motion. With her marriage she got a new name and a dress. When a clock is hungry it goes back four seconds. The guy who fell into the upholstery machine was fully recovered. You are stuck with your debt if you can’t budge it. Local Area Network in Australia : The LAN down under. A lot of money is tainted: ‘Taint yours, and ‘Taint mine. A boiled egg is hard to beat. He had a photographic memory which was never developed. When you’ve seen one shopping center you’ve seen a mall. If you jump off a Paris bridge you are in Seine . When she saw her first strands of gray hair she thought she’d dye. Bakers trade bread recipes on a knead to know basis.
I thought this might come in handy
I thought this might come in handy
ONLY TO BE READ IF YOU HAVE A SENSE OF HUMOUR! ~ A message from Queen Elizabeth II to all citizens of the United States of America / / To…
ONLY TO BE READ IF YOU HAVE A SENSE OF HUMOUR! ~ A message from Queen Elizabeth II to all citizens of the United States of America / / To the citizens of the United States of America from Her Sovereign Majesty Queen Elizabeth II / In light of your failure in recent years to nominate competent candidates for President of the USA and thus to govern yourselves, we hereby give notice of the revocation of your independence, effective immediately. / Her Sovereign Majesty Queen Elizabeth II will resume monarchical duties over all states, commonwealths, and territories (except Kansas , which she does not fancy). / Your new Prime Minister, Gordon Brown, will appoint a Governor for America without the need for further elections. / Congress and the Senate will be disbanded. / A questionnaire may be circulated next year to determine whether any of you noticed. / To aid in the transition to a British Crown dependency, the following rules are introduced with immediate effect: / (You should look up ‘revocation’ in the Oxford English Dictionary.) / 1. Then look up aluminium, and check the pronunciation guide. You will be amazed at just how wrongly you have been pronouncing it. / 2. The letter ‘U’ will be reinstated in words such as ‘colour’, ‘favour’, ‘labour’ and ‘neighbour.’ Likewise, you will learn to spell ‘doughnut’ without skipping half the letters, and the suffix ‘-ize’ will be replaced by the suffix ‘-ise’. Generally, you will be expected to raise your vocabulary to acceptable levels. (look up ‘vocabulary’). / 3. Using the same twenty-seven words interspersed with filler noises such as ‘like’ and ‘you know’ is an unacceptable and inefficient form of communication. There is no such thing as US English. We will let Mcrosoft know on your behalf. The Mcrosoft spell-checker will be adjusted to take into account the reinstated letter ‘u’ and the elimination of -ize. / 4. July 4th will no longer be celebrated as a holiday. / 5. You will learn to resolve personal issues without using guns, lawyers, or therapists. The fact that you need so many lawyers and therapists shows that you’re not quite ready to be independent. Guns should only be used for shooting grouse. If you can’t sort things out without suing someone or speaking to a therapist then you’re not ready to shoot grouse. / 6. Therefore, you will no longer be allowed to own or carry anything more dangerous than a vegetable peeler. Although a permit will be required if you wish to carry a vegetable peeler in public. / 7. All intersections will be replaced with roundabouts, and you will start driving on the left side with immediate effect. At the same time, you will go metric with immediate effect and without the benefit of conversion tables. / Both roundabouts and metrication will help you understand the British sense of humour. / 8. The former USA will adopt UK prices on petrol (which you have been calling gasoline) of roughly $10/US gallon. Get used to it. / 9. You will learn to make real chips. Those things you call French fries are not real chips, and those things you insist on calling potato chips are properly called crisps. Real chips are thick cut, fried in animal fat, and dressed not with catsup but with vinegar. / 10. The cold tasteless stuff you insist on calling beer is not actually beer at all. Henceforth, only proper British Bitter will be referred to as beer, and European brews of known and accepted provenance will be referred to as Lager. South African beer is also acceptable as they are pound for pound the greatest sporting nation on earth and it can only be due to the beer. They are also part of British Commonwealth – see what it did for them. American brands will be referred to as Near-Frozen Gnat’s Urine, so that all can be sold without risk of further confusion. / 11. Hollywood will be required occasionally to cast English actors as good guys. Hollywood will also be required to cast English actors to play English characters. Watching Andie MacDowell attempt English dialogue in Four Weddings and a Funeral was an experience akin to having one’s ears removed with a cheese grater. / 12. You will cease playing American football. There is only one kind of proper football; you call it soccer. Those of you brave enough will, in time, be allowed to play rugby (which has some similarities to American football, but does not involve stopping for a rest every twenty seconds or wearing full kevlar body armour like a bunch of nancies). Don’t try rugby – the South Africans and Kiwis will thrash you, like they regularly thrash us. / 13. Further, you will stop playing baseball. It is not reasonable to host an event called the World Series for a game which is not played outside of America . Since only 2.1% of you are aware there is a world beyond your borders, your error is understandable. You will learn cricket, and we will let you face the South Africans first to take the sting out of their deliveries. / 14. You must tell us who killed JFK. It’s been driving us mad. / 15. An internal revenue agent (i.e. tax collector) from Her Majesty’s Government will be with you shortly to ensure the acquisition of all monies due (backdated to 1776). / 16. Daily Tea Time begins promptly at 4 pm with proper cups, with saucers, and never mugs, with high quality biscuits (cookies) and cakes; plus strawberries (with cream) when in season. / God Save the Queen! / PS: Go ahead and share this with your friends in the USA (those with a good sense of humour and NOT humor. I apologise if you do not find this amusing, but us Brits do have a strange one!
As a young minister, I was asked by a funeral director to hold a grave- / side service for a homeless man, with no family or friends. The …
As a young minister, I was asked by a funeral director to hold a grave- / side service for a homeless man, with no family or friends. The funeral / was to be held at a cemetery way back in the country, and this man / would be the first to be laid to rest there. As I was not familiar with / the backwoods area, I became lost; and being a typical man did not stop / for directions. I finally arrived an hour late. I saw the backhoe and / the crew, who were eating lunch, but the hearse was nowhere in sight. I apologized to the workers for my tardiness and stepped to the side / of the open grave, where I saw the vault lid already in place. I / assured the workers I would not hold them up for long, but this was the / proper thing to do. The workers gathered around, still eating their / lunch. I poured out my heart and soul. As I preached the workers began to say ‘Amen ,’ ‘Praise the Lord,’ and / ‘Glory’! I preached and I preached, like I’d never preached before; / from Genesis all the way to Revelation. I closed the lengthy service with a prayer and walked to my car. As I / was opening the door and taking off my coat, I overheard one of the / workers saying to another, ‘I ain’t never seen anything like that / before in my life and I’ve been putting in septic tanks for thirty-two / years.’ Unknown Author
It was late…. a hot summer’s night. I arrived home to a dark, empty house, and a slow walk up the garden path, telling the kids to wa…
It was late…. a hot summer’s night. I arrived home to a dark, empty house, and a slow walk up the garden path, telling the kids to wait in the car until I got a light on. We entered the house and I set about getting the kids ready for bath and bed. Unbenown to me, someone had followed me into the house. Under the cover of darkness he had been lurking in the garden and used my tired state to assist him in entering my safe little home. / And he was about to make his presence felt. The back of my neck prickled and I rubbed it, thinking my shirt label was annoying me. Nothing there. Then I felt it. He put his arms up my shirt and ran his fingers down my spine. / I froze. His small hairy hands tickled my back, gently, tenderly. Deceptive. I called my son for help. / “I think I have something in my shirt,” I said, “Can you check?” / I held up the back of my shirt and he took one look, screamed and ran from the room. Does the colloquial expression “I damn near shit myself” spring to mind? / (I promise I did not..er…do that….... but there was a bit of a frantic leap in the air and a strange dance…....arms flapping….as I had to separate this huntsman spider from my person! LOL / But then, I did the right thing and put this big hairy guy back out in the garden where he belonged, unharmed…... though maybe he was as scarred by his experience as I was!!!
Sheep pong – well they do, but this is NOT what you’re expecting! / ...
Sheep pong – well they do, but this is NOT what you’re expecting!
Tender Things is my latest solo exhibition and it opens on the 30th of April at the…
Tender Things is my latest solo exhibition and it opens on the 30th of April at the gorgeous Hand Held Gallery in Bourke Street Melbourne city. / Hand Held Gallery is an amazing small scale space and as well as being a gallery space it also features handmade book arts and objects by local artists as well as a palm/tarot reader! Definitely a space worth checking out. / This is my second solo show and it features a small collection of my handmade books, zines, objects and new drawings. Hope you can come along and take a look. Here are the details: / Tender Things by Paul Compton / Hand Held Gallery / Suite 18, Upper Level, Paramount Arcade / 108 Bourke Street, Melbourne 3000 / Opening Night: 30th of April 6pm-8pm / Exhibition runs til the 26th of May / Gallery open: Monday-Saturday 12-5pm Please click here to view the online advert Apologies for my absence from the bubble recently I have been quite busy. Hope everyone is well. .
Self promotion is very like nepotism & that’s simply not cricket. In fact nepotism isn’t even a sport. Come to think about neither is cri…
Self promotion is very like nepotism & that’s simply not cricket. In fact nepotism isn’t even a sport. Come to think about neither is cricket. / Come on get serious; cricket is grown up rounders. / Back to my point, self promotion, it sounds like something a politician would do. / Where was I, ah yes; self promotiom, its not big its not clever & if you do it I’ll tell Trevor. / No you don’t want to promote yourself, get someone else to do it. That way you wont step on anyones toe’s. / So if you want promoted just drop me a line & I’ll promote you. But do hurry there’s only one vacancy & I’m on the short list. / Closing dates for applications was yesterday but don’t let that put you off. / Its not over till the fat bloke sings & if you’ve ever heard me sing you’ll never want it to be over!! / No this isn’t self promotion honest!!
I am uploading this again! 20th September 2009… / no, you don’t have deja vu!! / For all those RB Addicts out there, with sore shoulders,...
I am uploading this again! 20th September 2009… / no, you don’t have deja vu!! / For all those RB Addicts out there, with sore shoulders, red eyes, big thighs, cranky cats, etc…. / please feel free to add to the SIMTUMS ..... :)) _________ Thanks to a comment by Moorey / I have been inspired to do this….. / Please keep adding your names and comments if you think you are in the same boat…. / Whatever you say here will be fully confidential and NO ONE will ever know about it ..... (mmm, yeah, right!!) Feel free to list symptoms too!!! / :))
After deciding to buy a mail order cross trainer (don’t watch late night TV after you have been on RB all night, feeling bad about gettin…
After deciding to buy a mail order cross trainer (don’t watch late night TV after you have been on RB all night, feeling bad about getting RB legs!! They are a bit square at the top!), it arrived on Friday….. / I unpacked it on Friday…... Pulled it all apart on Saturday (which took most of the day as I was feeling very unorganised and didn’t know how to approach it!) The cat enjoyed the box, some very funny photos there too! ...... went out shooting photos on Saturday night! Stared at it in horror on Sunday…... and realised that the ten weeks free trial that I have with the bastard might actually mean it takes ten weeks to put together…. and, if it doesn’t do the job, I can send it back….. UNASSEMBLED!!!! Monday arrived, better put it together….. and I did it! It took me all bloody day but I got it all together! And hurt my knee again in the process which is why I got it in the first place – low impact exercise for knee! Doesn’t include banging said knee on floor tiles when crawling around under moving pedals with fiddly cheap tools (supplied, of course!) When I find the person that wrote those instructions… well…. safer not to say! :) Now to ICE my knee, and not get on said machine!! Hope it doesn’t take ten weeks! And a very important message! Go to bed at night and don’t watch late night TV when your resistance is low; when it is winter; and when you have spent way too much time in front of the computer and feel like flubber! Thanks for reading this far and hope you had a bit of a giggle or at least a smile!! :) PART TWO PART THREE PART FOUR
Again, some amazing, but, quirky facts I came across to add some light humour on a hot July day to raise a smile. Enjoy! If you yelled…
Again, some amazing, but, quirky facts I came across to add some light humour on a hot July day to raise a smile. Enjoy! If you yelled for 8 years, 7 months and 6 days you would have produced enough sound energy to heat one cup of coffee. / (Hardly seems worth it.) If you farted consistently for 6 years and 9 months, enough gas is produced to create the energy of an atomic bomb. / (Now that’s more like it !) The human heart creates enough pressure when it pumps out to the body to squirt blood 30 feet.. / (O..M.G.!) A pig’s orgasm lasts 30 minutes. / (In my next life, I want to be a pig.) A cockroach will live nine days without its head before it starves to death. (Creepy.) / (I’m still not over the pig.) Banging your head against a wall uses 150 calories a hour / (Don’t try this at home, maybe at work) The male praying mantis cannot copulate while its head is attached to its body. The female initiates sex by ripping the male’s head off.. / (Honey, I’m home. What the…?!) The flea can jump 350 times its body length. It’s like a human jumping the length of a football field. (30 minutes.. Lucky pig! Can you imagine?) The catfish has over 27,000 taste buds. / (What could be so tasty on the bottom of a pond?) Some lions mate over 50 times a day. / (I still want to be a pig in my next life…quality over quantity) Butterflies taste with their feet. / (Something I always wanted to know.) The strongest muscle in the body is the tongue. (Hmmmmmm…...) Right-handed people live, on average, nine years longer than left-handed people. (If you’re ambidextrous, do you split the difference?) Elephants are the only animals that cannot jump. / (Okay, so that would be a good thing) A cat’s urine glows under a black light. / (I wonder who was paid to figure that out?) An ostrich’s eye is bigger than its brain. / ( I know some people like that.) Starfish have no brains / (I know some people like that too.) Polar bears are left-handed. (If they switch, they’ll live a lot longer) Humans and dolphins are the only species that have sex for pleasure. / (What about that pig??)
CONGRATULATIONS TO ALL MY FRIENDS WHO WERE BORN IN THE 1930s, 1940s, 1950s, and 1960s! First, we survived being born to mothers who sm…
CONGRATULATIONS TO ALL MY FRIENDS WHO WERE BORN IN THE 1930s, 1940s, 1950s, and 1960s! First, we survived being born to mothers who smoked and/or drank while they carried us and lived in houses made of asbestos. They took aspirin, ate blue cheese, raw egg products, loads of bacon and processed meat, tuna from a can, and didn’t get tested for diabetes or cervical cancer. They didn’t need “eat by” dates to tell them when something was past redemption: their eyes and noses did that job. Fridges? What were they? Then, after that trauma, our baby cots were covered with brightly-coloured lead-based paints which we scraped off with our new teeth. We had no childproof lids on medicine bottles, doors or cabinets and, when we rode our bikes, we had no helmets or shoes; not to mention the risks we took hitchhiking. As children, we would ride in cars with no seat belts or air bags. We drank water from the garden hose and NOT from a bottle. Take away food was limited to fish and chips because there were no pizza shops, McDonalds , KFC, Subway or Nandos. Even though all the shops closed at 5.30pm, and didn’t open on Wednesday afternoons or at the weekends, we somehow managed to avoid starving to death! We shared one soft drink (remember Tizer and Corona?) with four friends (one of whom ALWAYS had a snotty nose) from one bottle and NO ONE actually died from this. We could collect old drink bottles and cash them in at the corner store and buy Toffees, Gobstoppers, Bubble Gum, Sherbert Fountains and some bangers to blow up frogs with. We ate cupcakes, white bread and real butter, and drank soft drinks with sugar in them, but we weren’t overweight because WE WERE ALWAYS OUTSIDE PLAYING!! We would leave home in the morning and play all day, as long as we were back when the streetlights came on. No one was able to reach us all day .. and we were always O.K. We were bathed once a week WHETHER WE NEEDED IT OT NOT. We would spend hours building our trollies out of boxes, old pram wheels and rusty 6” nails pinched from Dad’s shed, and then ride down the steepest hill we could find, only to find out we forgot the brakes. We built tree houses and dens and played in river beds with Matchbox cars. We did not have Playstations, Nintendo Wii , X-boxes, or video games; we didn’t have 999 channels on SKY, or video or DVD films, or mobile phones, or personal computers, or Internet or Internet chat rooms: WE HAD FRIENDS and we went outside and found them! We fell out of trees, got cut and bruised, broke bones and teeth, and there were no lawsuits from these accidents. Only girls had pierced ears! We ate worms and mud pies made from dirt, and the worms did not live in us forever. You could only buy Easter Eggs and Hot Cross Buns at Easter time! We were given air guns and catapults for our 10th birthdays. We rode bikes or walked to a friend’s house and knocked on the door, or rang the bell, or just yelled for them! Mum didn’t have to go to work to help Dad make ends meet! RUGBY, FOOTBALL and CRICKET had trials and not everyone made the team. Those who didn’t had to learn to deal with disappointment. Imagine that: getting into a team based on MERIT!! Our teachers used to hit us with canes and gym shoes, and bullies always ruled the playground at school. The idea of a parent bailing us out if we broke the law was unheard of. They actually sided with the law and gave us a damned good pasting when they got us home. Our parents didn’t invent stupid names for their kids like ‘Kiora’ and ‘Blade’ and ‘Ridge’ and ‘Vanilla’. We had freedom, failure, success and responsibility, and we learned HOW TO DEAL WITH IT ALL! And YOU are one of us and, despite not growing up in an era when lawyers, social workers and the government regulated your lives “for your own good”, you managed to survive! CONGRATULATIONS!
Why, when choosing which supermarket checkout queue to join, do I always end up in the one with the little old lady who “has 2p somewhere…
Why, when choosing which supermarket checkout queue to join, do I always end up in the one with the little old lady who “has 2p somewhere if that would help”? Why is there only one Monopolies Commission? Why does the perfect photographic light always materialise 5 mins after I’ve waited an hour and have packed up my gear in disgust? Why does my wife always squeeze the toothpaste tube in the middle? Why do I always discover the absence of toilet paper after I’ve finished and not before I’ve started? Why do ATM’s always run out of money just before I reach the head of the queue? If the distance from my garage power point to the furthest extremity of my back lawn is x ft, why do I always manage to buy the only lawnmower in the shop with (x-2) ft of cable? Why is every traffic light on red when I’m late leaving for work in the morning, but on green when I’ve got plenty of time to spare? Some of life’s imponderables. Can you add to this list?
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Wishing Tree Christmas Card Series / Little Profiles Christmas Series / Angel Christmas Cards / Nativity Christmas Cards / Other Christmas Cards / Party Girl Card Series /
Oh boy is it a mad world, what a day I’ve had. I fell out of bed this morning; banged my head off the sideboard which wasn’t actually th…
Oh boy is it a mad world, what a day I’ve had. I fell out of bed this morning; banged my head off the sideboard which wasn’t actually there because we don’t have a sideboard!! / Dazed & confused I climbed into the shower; oh boy did that lady get a terrible fright!! / I can see the funny side now but to be honest the side I saw at the time wasn’t pretty!! / The problems all started with the power cut & the house builder has got to take some of the blame too. / I mean who in their right mind would fit identical door locks to two houses right next door to each other!! / Well when the power went off it was so bloody dark & being blind drunk due to a mix up with the Polish barman who didn’t know coke on the rocks doesn’t have any alcohol in it!! Well to say I was some what confused is an understatement. / Why do builders build so many indentical houses right next to each other? / Anyway in my confused state & in total darkness I’d found my way into the house next door. / Trying to avoid disturbing Mrs ‘B’ I quietly slipped into bed & fell fast asleep. / Our new neighbours only moved in three days ago & until this morning we’d never met formally or informally for that matter!! / Well once everyone had calmed down & the events of the morning after the night before had been explained I was released from the local Police Station. / By the time I got home our neighbours had new door locks fitted as had Mrs ‘B’. / Its a bit cramped in the shed but its only for a few days until Mrs ‘B’ calms down. / Mrs Mc Clumfit, our new neighbour was less than impressed when I asked where she’d had her tattoo done, she didn’t answer my question; she just closed the door quickly & double locked it before she put the lights out. / That reminds, I really need to clear out some of the rubbish in here!! /
As much as I don’t want to be instrumental in turning RB into ‘Son of Facebook’, I hope you’ll forgive me for posting this YT clip. It IS…
As much as I don’t want to be instrumental in turning RB into ‘Son of Facebook’, I hope you’ll forgive me for posting this YT clip. It IS Christmas related however and is quite long, but I urge you to stick with it. I discovered it a couple of years ago and even in my darkest moments, if I spend a few minutes watching this, I always end up with a smile on my face. It is a celebration of what I like to call ‘the delightfulness of innocence’, something which is getting almost impossible to find now, especially involving ‘grown ups’. Even kids are losing it…. / I guarantee you will LOVE this. It’s a classic. Sid Laverents died in May 09 aged 101. / The world needs more Sid Laverents.
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