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Tag Archives: gin

Procrastination is the thief of time

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Half term is almost over and I have achieved very little other than winning at being a lazy bastard and waiting for my chin to heal up, while I googled things like – “Can you damage your brain by banging your chin?”.  (Yes, apparently you can).  

We did have pancake day, which was a success mainly because Bman was home to be a top tosser.  Allie’s friend slept over and was also party to the pancake tea.  The next day was Valentines Day. There was no romantic meal out, or sex of any kind, but I did get lots of flowers and a shower curtain (don’t ask). Also a decent cooked tea and I got Bman a bottle of good gin, which is of course a gift designed for the two of us.

We went out en famille for Allie’s early birthday tea on Thursday to Pieminister.  Her choice. Not mine, although of course I was delighted at this choice.  I almost went for the double-pied ‘Tower of Power’ but thought it could be a pie too far in one sitting, so opted for a Mothership instead.

He is called Kevin and he is all mine

On Friday me and the Childerbeast did venture to Manc to have lunch with my bro and sis and the niecelings.  Good job it was payday as the offspring stiffed me for jackets, boots and other miscellaneous crap in Primark and Lush.  I only went in to get some work clothes, but didn’t get anything for myself other than a bra.  In fairness it was a good purchase for a fiver.  Harnesses the old lills rather nicely indeed. Crackin’ in fact.

I did manage to get myself a new swimsuit and rash vest for my upcoming new venture – teaching swimming after school two evenings a week. Yaaas! Getting paid for being in the water. Nice.

Channelling the old skool raver look here, albeit in lycra a couple of sizes larger than back in the day.

Today I had plans to get up and crack on with a half term’s worth of planning but have basically spent the day procrastinating.  I sorted my wardrobe. Sat in bed and finished my book.  Had a snooze, then got sucked into watching ‘The Guns of Navarone’.  Now I’m writing this and soon it will be teatime. It’s burger Saturday but I’m flying in the face of convention and having a fish finger butty instead – because that’s how I fucking roll MoFo!

Rave on!

sat

 

 

 

 

 

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Fuck dry January. All hail Ginuary

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Well dry January lasted until Wednesday the 3rd when I went back to work.  I held off at least until I got home but was two gins in by 9pm.

FFS!

A short week indeed, but am already knackered and considering alternative career prospects.
I’m stuck though aren’t I?  I’ll end up like some kind of disillusioned, wizened, bitter old Yoda figure stamping library books in a corner and listening to KS1 reading about fucking Biff & Chip for the eleventy billionth time.. The children will remind me that I used to teach their parents and dad wants to know if I’m still a bitch.

I doubt by then I’ll have the energy…

56fd315bc193a2e12f5c31a0d0a4adbc--teacher-education-teacher-tools

 

chin chin for gin Xx

Is it Halloween yet?

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So, how’s it going on the old positivity scale since my return to the coalface?

Well. Week 3 and I already feel like a shell of my summer holiday relaxed and calm self. A costume of a woman with a grimace of a smile dripping off my face at a rate of knots.  Nursery one minute, changing pants and the next I’m discussing the meaning of life (it’s 42 BTW) with Upper Keystage 2.  I have to check my diary at every changeover to check that I’m heading to the right class.

keep-calm-it-is-simple-arse-attached-to-legs-elbow-attached-to-arms

Monies worth = out of me? Yes.  I think so.

The silver lining of this headwreck of a new role is that the extra wedge in my monthly pay means that I reckon I am good for paying for next year’s Griswold family jolly to WallyDisneyworld.  That’s if I’m not on a liver transplant waiting list from all the gin I may have to consume to get me through until then.

Meanwhile. On another topic.  Having had my IUD coil removed, my periods have started up again.  This is not good.  I’d forgotten how annoying they are and how much I want to eat chocolate in the lead up to all that.  This is playing havoc with my mission to shift 10kg of excess timber.  I may need to take up smoking again, or amphetamines or something.

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Pretty sure the Bman might overtake me on this weight loss gig as he’s been surviving on grout fumes and hard graft the past 2 weeks trying to finish off our new kitchen.  The kitchen we haven’t decided whether we like or not.  The worktop is already scratched.  The oven doesn’t match the rest. We’ve got a plumber coming out on Thursday to get to the bottom of the rank stench emanating from beneath the washing machine and the laminate floor still needs to be done and tiling to be finished.  He’s gone back to work this week for a rest!

I may blog some more in another 3 weeks if and when I can summon the energy.

Ciao for now dudes

Xx

It’s all about the fruit turban (& gin)

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Phrase of the day:  “Are your meringues soft inside?”

I attended a course today all about grammar, where we were taught some useful phrases.  None of which involved anything about teaching your grandmother to suck eggs.

I am still twitching a bit over some of the things we had to proof-read and check for incorrect use of apostrophes. 

**shudders**  (There’ll be a dozen typos in this post now, just you wait.)

Speaking of knowing how to have fun and needing to get a life…

I went out last Friday night.  Out out!  Like I didn’t even set off to go out until after 9pm and everything!

I know!

Hold the phone though, I’m not done.  As if that wasn’t thrilling enough,  I didn’t get back in until after 3a.m.

I know!

Rock & Roll eh?

Okay so it wasn’t exactly reminiscent of ‘The Hangover’.  There were no monkeys in denim waistcoats or tigers in the bathroom. I didn’t even have a hangover the next day. I was just very tired from being woken up at 8am.
I did enjoy it though. Just setting the World to rights over some skunk.  When I say skunk, I mean bottles of Becks, which smells the same as skunk (allegedly).  There may also have been a cheeky pint or two of Stowford Press and a clandestine packet of Scampi fries.  This girl still knows how to throw it down.

🙂

Phrase of the evening, which made me laugh hard and long in the street, was something along the lines of, “You know when there’s someone you could just drum the living daylight out of?”

Fair enough.

Important life decisions were made.  Pretty much that the future involves hats that look like turbans, possibly encompassing fake fruit, and/or taxidermied birds and gin (to drink – not on the hat, although that might be cool.  A gin-filled old lady turban with straw attachment.)  Oh and  mobility scooters (again, not on the hat)and aspiring to look like that old woman from ‘Benidorm’.

Benidorm

I’m thinking of sacking it all off and opening a hat shop, which also sells a variety of gins.  It will have scooter parking outside and may even have a wall-mounted ashtray.
You can keep your skinny Minnie teen idols and Made in Chelsea girls.  I’d rather be an Elsie or a Rita any day.

Elsie%20Tanner%20maturing%20nicely       barbara_knox

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The future is bright.  The future is…. yellow.

Kourtney-Kardashian-Advanced-Style-Blog-Turban-Old-Woman-Glam-030212-4

 

Pictures courtesy of google images

 

 

 

 

Horsehair, lard or otherwise – make mine a Bombay Saph

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I tuned into this programme last night as I awaited the latest instalment in the long running ‘Big Fat Gypsy…’ franchise on Channel 4:-
Food Unwrapped (mainly because it promised a segment on how gin is made.)

Vitamin G baby!

Vitamin G baby!

As I balked at the opening sequence of chicken carcasses on a production line, I prayed that Jimmy Doherty wasn’t going to ruin one my favourite tipples by revealing that it does in fact contain horsehair, extract of lard and badger droppings.

Fortunately nothing more than what I already knew was lurking within:- juniper berries, various fruits and spices added to a vodka base.   I doubt though that had I ever been partial to the odd donner kebab, that I would ever be partaking again!  Any fast food at all to be honest given that I recently also watched a show called Dirty Britain that showed a couple of likely Mancunians in their choice role of scraping 7 inches of fat from inside a sewage pipe with a shovel somewhere beneath the city centre, as further fresh fat flowed freely between their feet.

Yuk!

My favourite phrase of the Food Unwrapped show had to be when the man explaining how almost 75% of oysters contain the Noro Virus and how this is spread, used the beautiful words:-  “A mist of vomit in the air – it’s on the cat, on the couch, it’s everywhere”

“A mist of vomit.”   I barely kept my Doritos down!

I look forward, almost too excitedly to Thursday night when I can watch this beaut:- Confessions of an alien abductee, made all the more delicious because these are British people, not crazy Americans who live in a trailer park.

How tempted am I to get fucked up on gin and call that Abductee helpline because you know that number is going to get a shitload more calls after Thursday.

After the Alien Abduction

 

pictures from google images