£6:25

"Hallo Hallo, I want the crap job... whaddya mean I've gotta fill a form in some time in the future and wait till Boss man gets back from Utah, I'm telling ya I can do this, no you're not listening I can stack and yack and bring more customers in than you've ever dreamt of... now get off the fone and do the one thing you were put on this earth to do...Make the best decision you've ever made. Hire me!"

I phoned about a minimum wage menial job today...The self important guy on the phone a.k.a God, hurled this lot...My italicised replies are fiction but they went through my head like a dose of salts...

"Are you fully experienced?"
I don't think it'd take fully forever to learn the art of Shelf du Fill.

"Are you people orientated?"
I lean towards certain types, yes.

"Could you do Bank Holidays and some Saturdays and some late nights and cover for people when they're off or on maternity leave"
You betcha! I also leap through hoops of fire without n.h.s protection

"Have you done this before?"
What talk on the phone? Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh yes...My real name is Fonehooker darling and I realllllly love talking dirty to twats like you about slave jobs in the private sector.... it really turns me on. Hun.

"Can you call in LATE NEXT week for an application form?"
Next week? I'll be off the boil by then dear.

"The owner is in America on business and won't be back for a little while so..."
So bye bye!"


:)

My afternoon...

Jewelled skirt :)

8 Chocolate biscuits :)

Ammonia :)

Ruth Gordon as Abigail Mitchell in Columbo...'Try and Catch Me'

Update from my earlier post.....

Didn't do much just dragged one of the de-booked bookcases from here to there, then, after re-booking I rearranged the ceramic cats, dislodged dust and Snickers wrappers from all over and ever so slightly shoved my big telly a little thisaway! A couple of inches DOES make a difference to a lady's over all happiness.

While all this palaver was going on I had a videoed Columbo on, the one with the brilliant Ruth Gordon (Old Minnie in Rosemary's Baby) where she is the crime writer who locks a young man in her safe where he suffers death by lack of oxygen. Revenge is a dish best served blue:) Anyway it was a little background fun for me.
And then I was finished...
Much pleasure upon the eye Sir!

Now I play:)
x

Things on my mind..

A.V. Choosing one is hard enough...Will vote tomorrow, it is my duty.

My new blouse. Gypsy Glo. Cross my palm with silver matey...And I will tell you ALL...

Irish Soda Rolls. Make a batch for weekend. Usage? Home for hamburgers, accomp. to soup. Yummy with ketchupped bacon steaks.

The re-arrangement of major furniture. Out with the old, in with the er...more old! Have incredible wooden urges.

Cherry Tart. The making of. Deep red fruit encased in crisp buttery pastry shell. Gorgeous with ice cream and heels.

Nick Clegg. His imminent departure. Please. Rat. Double crossing beast.

Dead Man's Shoes. The Movie. Paddy Considine as an ex-soldier out to kill the men who tortured his special needs brother. Excellent but was so unsettling I couldn't possibly watch it ever again.....
Most unsettling scene?
Whenever the brilliant Considine faked fear. When facing his victims his quick faux shudder and my temperature dropped. Fabulous stuff. Haven't yet deleted it...

Custard Tartlets:)

I saw a fox late last night, a lean cat too, whilst waiting for the train, and as I stared down the lone taxi driver I thought about today and how wonderful it'd be....Out and about in the morning and then the afternoon. Lovely.
I also thought about last night's positively dreadful poetry, I really must STOP it. Goo is best left in the pot.

Now I must fly...

The Love, The Spider and The Rain

Its legs brittle as blackened china
the spider pirouettes,
fingering scanty silk from one dust patch to another
the solo acrobat, like cowboy Joe, lasoos threads
and silently trips home.

I would make it too
legs sprawled
white stretched to a fine V
resolve
do so resolve...that I
I
I do give a fuck
and listen as God's tears equal my own

Fairy Blogmother

After pottering in the garden I strolled to the charity shop in brilliant sunshine and roaring wind. My step appeared lighter more dainty and I'm sure it was on account of the red flowered shoes I was wearing.
Joan in the shop commented on how 'tiny' I was and that I'd look 'good as a fairy'........
"Just bag my stuff" I said sweetly and so she did even 'forgetting' to charge for my gardening book...Love you...
Yes I bought another gardening book but this one is the real McCoy a complete encyclopaedia type one if you will, line drawings, quotes, stacks of info with long Latin names. The whole caboodle.
Can't I just broadcast my seeds and have done with it?
At any rate It's a good read and perfect for apple green numpties like what I am:)

Also bagged were a black and red silk cosmetic purse, a Pur Una slightly boho type blouse in every colour on the palette and, for Mother, a heart shaped, silver plated, diamante encrusted trinket box. Won't go into monetary costs because it's irrelevant and rather vulgar.
£2:25.

It's been a fair day weatherwise and I'm hoping for a clear week ahead because there are a few unladylike jobs to bodge up and around the bungalow...(garden included)
Too uninteresting to blog about of course, but they will require super glue of which I have none, some kind of vessel in which to hold more bird seed and a creamy vicious cleaning product to help dislodge the grey cloudy gunk in and around my wash basin. I've tried EVERYTHING. So tomorrow I will faint with boredom as I read labels about gunk:(

The bird food vessel will, once I've found it, be stuck carefully on my kitchen windowsill so even more tweeties can nose in at me whilst I'm stuck to un evier.
Such is my love for birds that I'm contemplating installing another bird table, this one, this time, will be unceremoniously placed under the bay window...Right under the glass...Can't wait for my first head hit:)

I've lost weight by the way, down two pounds.

This loss of fat has been accompanied by a feeling of extreme good health so will tonight be celebrated by over indulging in Malted Milk Biscuits to which I must confess I've become rather fond.
And that's fine because this week on account of solitariness I will be able to eat them willy nilly. (Mr H on a late shift dear and all the week too). So, as the night turns dark and my feet get roasted, I'll dive into celluloid violence whilst ripping apart the bikkie wrapper..

:)