I suppose you think that's funny

So I bought a book about bookbinding, and when I opened it, all the pages fell out.

Nah, they didn't really. Would've been funny if they had, though...

That's my kind of joke.

The funniest cartoon I ever saw was of a man lying on a psychiatrist's couch, saying, "I don't suppose it's much compared to other people's inferiority complexes".

Ah, so funny.

I was going to go on an assertiveness course, but I lost the form and didn't like to ask for another.

I was going to buy a book about positive thinking, but it probably wouldn't do any good.

I was going to buy a book about improving my memory, but I forgot.

Kneel before Zod, except after 'c'.

So, as anyone who knows me would tell you, I'm obsessed with stationery.

I could live in Staples. And if I ever win the lottery, I'll move into Smythsons instead!

Deep down, I'm convinced that if I just buy the right notebook, I could finally sort my life out.

But in the meantime, I wander the globe, buying notebooks and journals, like some kind of stationery-obsessed Flying Dutchman.

Always in search of the perfect one, the one that will allow me to finally marshall my wayward thoughts into some kind of order - the one that will finally make sense of it all and result in the ultimate answer to whatever it is that needs to be answered.

Wish me luck.



p.s. I know the title doesn't relate to the post itself, but I don't care!!

What a load of rubbish!

So, yeah, I think I'm going to have to go part-time at work.

Yes, I need the money, and yes, I prefer working full-time, but I can't do that and put out my rubbish correctly.

I need to take at least one day off per week to concentrate on correctly dividing and packing my recyclables.

I could just about fit it in with my career when it was just the three different kinds of bins, but now I have the green bin, and the green box, and the blue bag, and now the white sack. I can't co-ordinate all that and hold down a full-time job.

If I caused contamination because I was distracted by having to work for a living, I'd never forgive myself!

Oh, the shame!!

My house is too nice for the likes of me.

I feel like I'm bringing the whole neighbourhood down.

I had something to say to my next-door-neighbour. I stopped her as she was going in to her house and thanked her for taking a delivery for me.

It was only once she'd gone into the house that I realised the disparity in our lives.

She was carrying a riding hat. So she'd obviously been out horse-riding.

How healthy, how posh!

I, on the other hand, was mowing my scabby 3x3 bit of lawn, in what later transpired to be my nightie.

Yes, I'd totally forgotten I didn't bother getting dressed this morning.

Looked like rain. Lawn well overgrown. Just dashed out to give it a quick mow. D'oh.

I may have to move...

My New TV Channel

What I need is a nature channel for wimps.

I want to see animals being cute, or majestic, or whatever their thing is.

But what I don't want is any famines, or heatwaves, or the majestic ones eating the cute ones.

Seems like you can't watch a nature programme for more than a couple of minutes without some kind of unspeakable horror happening.

Yes, I know I'm a big soft girlie, but there it is.

I'm sure if I got my channel, lots of other big wimpy wusses would watch it too.

I'm not your buddy, guy!

Occasionally, I accidentally use the word "guy".

It makes me cringe.

I'm English, for heaven's sake. The only time I should use the word guy should be on the 5th of November. And with a capital G!!

Today, I used the word "flashlight". Yikes. That's like calling the fire brigade the fire department.

I should be taken out and shot.

Not that I have anything against the United States. Love the place. Some of my best holidays have been spent there. Most of my favourite films were made there.

But I need to try to stop it invading my vocabulary.

And I wish more people in England would try to resist. I like our quirky little cultural identity. No point turning ourselves into a small grey copy of the USA.

The USA wouldn't be as much fun if it wasn't different.

Homeward Bound (I wish I was)

Have you ever listened to the words of "Homeward Bound"?

You know, the Paul Simon song?

Jeece! What a whiner!!

"Tonight I'll sing my songs again,
I'll play the game and pretend."

Well, don't bother on my account. If it's such a bleedin' chore.

He should try getting a proper job. Then he'd have something to whine about...

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