Keep Yourself to Yourself

Why are some people so keen to inform you of their personal bodily function information? It's not an enjoyable experience is it? They don't think of it the other way around.

If I came downstairs and said "woah-ho-ho!!!! babe. Don't go up there for a while. There was actual tomato seeds from last nights pizza when I wiped." Dane would NEVER sleep with me again.

Unfortunately, those are almost the exact words he said to me about 10 minutes ago. Yet I am still meant to find him irresistible.

My best friend, Sarah is the same. She recently had a baby and she was more than willing to share all of her constipation stories with me... Whilst on the toilet... Via text message... Asking me for advice.  I don't know, I've never had it, but I may as well have had now because I'm really feeling your pain.

Pregnant women are quite often the same, though. It's like all embarrassment goes out of the window because you have a beautiful miracle of nature as an excuse. You can stroll around the shops arse-tooting a merry tune without apology, because you're carrying a boulder and a couple of watermelons on your front. You can openly discuss breast leakage, discharge from just about anywhere, and 'that feeling of sitting with an apple up your whoopsie'.

I don't like it, I don't agree, but having been a pregnant woman myself, I would NEVER express my dislike for the topic of conversation. This woman is suffering. She will either bite your head off or drown you in the tears that come with the third trimester. She feels she is bearing huge responsibility in her huge maternity knickers and stretch jeans. She is about to give birth to a child... A member of the next generation... And for all she knows, it could be the EINSTEIN of tomorrow's world.

Do not mess with this woman. She's busy being a superhero and its so exhausting you do not have, and never will have, any idea what this feels like ok? Ok? You just don't get it so just leave right now and get her those pancakes and syrup even though its 3am and you've been working all day and pirouetting on eggshells since you came home. But be prepared, when you do get home , she will be angry. You left her alone. What if something had happened?! You forgot your phone in all the panic and fear as you dove through the window of your car, and she doesn't want pancakes anymore, she wants Oreos.

To be fair to men, if their partner is one of those possessed pregnant women, the guy probably deserves to discuss his pooing and wiping every so often.

I would of course prefer not to be on the receiving end of this image provoking chatter, as I am not one of those possessed pregnant women. I am one of those who snaps your head off for 3months in the beginning and then sits around in the lotus position pondering which pastel colour will most relax baby, and give him/her the best start in life. Meaning that my partner gets ignored quite a lot, unless I need a second opinion on the Bach piece for my labour zone music.

The moral of the story is, if you're a guy, keep your shit to yourself... Literally. If you're a pregnant woman, do what the hell you want because you're amazing honey and we're so proud of you. You look so well and you're blooming. (This is what you say. Even though you know she looks ten times the woman you met with extra fries).

If you're anyone else, avoid men and pregnant women if you're a little weak stomached. Oh, and children who pass you bogies as presents.

What colour is an Orange?

Food is confusing.

I have a little girl with a tummy bug and I can't get to the supermarket, so I try to order my shopping online. Who knew that an orange is a citrus fruit? Why do they have to complicate things just to be fancy? A yoghurt is now in the 'dairy' category. How on earth is a yoghurt not in the meat category?? Is it or is it not from a bloody COW? It took me, in total. 2 hours and 36 minutes to complete a grocery shop online. More time than it would have taken me to drive there, shop and have my hair done on any other Friday.
If people didn't pretend to be posher than they are, then Tesco wouldn't have to list a basic orange in the 'citrus' section. You have to have a degree in biology to buy fruit these days, and they wonder why children are obese. It's because parents can't find fruit when they're shopping.
I think yoghurts are good for you, and if you can't find those either, your stuck with Monster Munch and Milky Way.
It really winds me up how life isn't just simple. I'm a simple enough human being. I like watching the telly with my slippers on and a nice cup of Yorkshire tea. Why do I want to be playing Where's Wally just to do my shopping. What happens if I break my leg? I end up in hospital. A&E with a clipboard and a pencil. Which bone specifically, within the actual leg? Isn't that YOUR job? As a hospital? You X Ray me, break the news and plaster me up for 6 weeks. Why can't the world's biggest supermarket have a website that can interpret ORANGES and find you a spherical fruit bearing even the slightest resemblance to the colour you typed in?
I had to text my partner, who thinks I am the mockery of the universe as it is, and ask what category an orange comes under, before I could buy one. He didn't reply for an hour, at which point I was majorly pissed off and I had bought orange cordial instead. I don't even know if its one of your five a day.
I want the world back to how it used to be in ugg um ooh times. I could relate to a caveman. Point, grunt and its yours. That's what I want. Not a GCSE in food shopping. I just want a balanced diet. Not an exam.

A Diamond in the Rough

People often say I'm dense. Which, upon further thought, cannot be a bad thing. As I'm relatively sure that it would mean that my brain is quite densely packed into the gap that is my skull. Meaning that I have ample brain cells. Wonderful. However, this raises a more worrying issue. Why am I so daft then? I drop things, forget things, get confused about anything more pressing than 'tea bag in cup, pour in water, add milk', and I seem to struggle finding anyone who sees things from my perspective.
   I realise I am a little... eccentric. Because I have met my mother. And I get it from her. It's plainly obvious that in 20 years time, I will also be laughing at what appears to be nothing and forgetting which country I am in.
   Somehow, finding the root cause of the problem doesn't make me feel any better. It shrouds the whole issue in a cloud of 'mother pity'. Like I can't resent my oddnes Because I inherited it from the beautiful person who gave me this world in the first place. Yes I can. I just seem like a twat for doing it.
   When people close to you laugh. You're in with a small chance that they may be laughing with you, or at least affectionately, if it is AT you. But when a stranger behind you in the newsagent sniggers, and the man across the road starts playing the gullible game after meeting you twice, you can rest assured, there's something very wrong with you.
   My brother is a bit of a plank. But he's good looking, successful, charismatic, and a Mummy's boy. No one ever told him that pigs eat children if they have long hair.
   My sister is very strange. But she's a mathematical genius bookworm who rarely speaks to anyone for long enough for them to even hear what she's saying instead of staring at the gap in her teeth. No one ever introduced her to their parents as 'this is the one I told you about, who didn't know about flamingos'.
   I wonder if I will ever be appreciated for my talents. Like Buckaroo. I don't have to have met you, but I'll bet you £100 that I'd win, hands down.
I make an amazing mushroom risotto. Well, I did it once but I can't remember what I put in it, and it's never been as good since. I can stay in the bath for more than an hour before my fingers and toes go wrinkly. It's probably a Guinness world record.
   But my real passion is writing. I love it. But I very much doubt that I will ever be taken seriously as a writer when even I can't read my past posts without being completely and utterly embarrassed.
   I don't know why I'm not normal but I don't think I'm weird. There has to be others like me. I'm just a rarity. Like a diamond. Just a dim one rather than a shiny one. I'm the diamond you find after digging for 35 years and losing 4 fingers. The diamond that looks amazing until you cut it and realise it doesn't really shine.
   I don't suppose I mind that actually. At least I'm still a diamond. And I'm quite expensive and people might want to steal me.

Gardener's World

I had an orchid in a beautiful plantpot once, from my best friend. And I killed it. Accidentally of course. It was very sad. I would quite like to have kept it and seen what would have happened if it bent over any further. But things didn't work out and I had to move on.

I had a basil plant once, in a beautiful plantpot which once held an orchid. And I killed it. Accidentally of course. I was mortified. I would have loved to have kept picking the leaves off it for my cooking but once I had picked them all, it apparently couldn't collect sun anymore and it passed away. I composted it in the compost bin.

Every plant I ever have I seem to kill. And hamster. And rabbit. Its terribly unfortunate and I'm unsure as to what their problem is, but I'm beginning to think it really could be me. When you look at the blueprint of the situation, I am the common denominator. And that makes me feel like the evil half of the fraction. I don't deliberately kill things. I couldn't even tell you how they died. They just do. I watered them and fed the necessary ones. They had sunlight and hay. They just pack up and pass on. And I don't know if I'm cursed. Which worries me. As I have three children and a dog which I would quite like to remain alive for as long as possible.

So it was our anniversary. Dane bought me a rose bush. Bad idea. It was meant to signify our relationship, living forever and blossoming eternally. Rather than a bouquet of roses that die after a week. A month later and my rosé bush is officially dead. I watered it. I watered it lots and lots and lots and I put it in the kitchen windowsill where it's sunny. It told me to on its ticket. And it died.

It's petals have been falling off slowly for a week or two. Like single tears dripping with neglect and abandonment. This morning I found myself stroking the pot. If it didn't help the hamster, it won't help the crisp that used to be my beautiful rosebush.

I vow that from this day, I shalt not purchase any more flowers, bushes, pets or trees. And I give my word that I shall respectfully turn away any gift of such matter. I'm not sure what to do about the kids and the dog but they seem ok so far. And Dane seems ok. Maybe a little overfed but I can fix that. And no matter how hard I try, I'll never be able to stop him spraying his feet with Febreze, eating all of the meat meant for his sandwiches, or wishing he was Iron Man. This is beyond anyone's control.

Such a Silly Sparrow

Thor can't have been a God because he didn't live in heaven. And he had a hammer which wasn't even invented when Gods were created. Man made the hammer after God made man. So Thor is definitely not a God.
   He can't be that amazing anyway because he got banished by his own Father (who wasn't a God either, just an old King). No self respecting God gets banished from his own planet for being a prick with an ego. And his Dad banished him to Earth of all places. That's not a particularly hardcore punishment is it? He could have been banished somewhere where people didn't feed him and fall in love with him straight away. Send him to the moon where there isn't anyone. Or any food or animals to talk to. That would make him super sorry.
  Then his Dad un-banished him because a robot shot him. He was dead. And he got sent his hammer and got his powers back. Just for being dead.
   If that bring a God, I want to be one.
  His brother was evil and wasn't even his brother. He was a freezer giant baby found in a church by Thor's dad after the war. Firstly, why keep it? Secondly, why pretend it was your own child. Thirdly, if you've had a war with its kind, you know it'll be a bad egg.
   If I was a sparrow and I found a lizard egg, I'd be a clever sparrow and leave it well alone. That would have saved an awful lot of bother. Including breaking the bridge to the universe which was probably quite an expensive mess to make.

I'd like to think that I didn't completely waste 2 hours watching Thor tonight, but I'd also like to think that the coalition government was all a joke and Jeremy Beadle will fix it all (not Jim).
   The fact is, I did waste my two hours, and I've just wasted another ten analysing the shit out of it again just to reiterate to myself that, yes. It was indeed mismatched, none-sensical bollocks that had better not ruin the Avengers for me or else.

It's like a mushroom

I was trying to explain to Dane why my fleecy pyjamas feel odd to bite. He seemed to think this was weirder than it is. I know it sounds weird but everyone does it, or at least a lot of us. If we have tooth ache or want to feel comfy. People do things that seem weird, and probably are, but we have good reasons for doing them. Like covering your ear when you settle down for sleep. So it's quieter and warmer and it feels safe. Sleeping with a pillow between your knees so your legs don't stick together. Holding a cold drinks can for a while and then touching your face because it makes you gasp. Closing your eyes really tight so you think you can see all the stars in the universe whizzing past your eyes, even though you know your vision will be weird when you open them, just so you can feel like an astronaut for a second.
   You won't do all of those things, but chances are that you do at least one. And a few more of your own besides. That's just a few from my list to give examples.
   I don't get why things feel funny in our mouths. Like my top. Just because of the texture or feel, we cringe or wretch or shudder. I'm like that with peaches. The furry kind of ones. And kiwi fruits. Things like that shouldn't be near your tongue. They itch and stick to the roof of your mouth like strange Velcro. Like mushrooms or scampi. Why would anyone want to eat something that slides down before you get to taste it? It's disgusting.
   I don't think it's just food though... Clearly... I think it's just that my body knows when something shouldn't be there. If I hold a pen between my teeth, sometimes my throat closes and makes me have to spit it out. Odd natural instinct I suppose.
   But if everyone does strange stuff, why judge others on theirs? There's no such thing as normality in this world anymore. When you can get away with calling your child Apple or sky diving from space without being sectioned, you know you're pretty much free to try anything. In this way, I suppose the world of celebrity does have one over on us mere mortals.
   Dane talks to himself in an American voice-over voice when he thinks no one is listening. My friend Emily always chewed her hair even though it made her cough. My mum clicks her fingernails together to make the theme tune to Eastenders.
   Don't judge. Laugh if you must. But don't forget that people will be laughing at your oddball behaviour too. And you'll never stop them because you don't know you're doing it.
   Cottons best to bite for comfort. Or the stuff towels are made of.

Think Waves

A day in my brain. thought it might be interesting to tap it all out and read back on just how philosophical I am.

Cheerios never fill me up.

Time bombs aren't real. It's just a normal bomb. Because they're all on time anyway. They tick down until the times up and then they become just a bomb.

Greenhouses aren't real. It's just a shed but glass. A shed is a shed. If its metal or wood, it's still a shed. A glass one shouldn't be any different.

When the Sex Pistols came up with their name, did they realise they were calling themselves penises?

There is water under Africa. How ironic. We should send them shovels instead of Evian.

I saw a sign at the chip shop letting everyone know that they now do pudding. No one is going to stay long enough for pudding. There's not a lot of point.

My daughter saw an advert and said she wanted the toy. I said 'its I would like the toy'. She said 'ok mum, we can share it'. Not getting through.

A man stopped me outside Barclays Bank to ask if I knew where Barclays was. When I said it was behind me, he stepped back and said 'just testing'. That comment makes you ten times the cock you were just after you missed the bank.

There is an advert in the paper. "Hi. Curvy, blue eyed babe. Late 30's. WLTM older sophisticated male who enjoys cooking and bubbly chat, for friendship and more."
There should have been an advert in the paper. "Fat woman, mid 40's. looking for a rich bloke on his last legs to feed my weight problem and put up with annoying snort laugh. For bonking and inheritance."
Why lie? We can all see through you, even if not past you.

Why do clouds always make you feel really uncomfortable just before they rain? Men don't do that before they fart. Dane doesn't anyway. And clouds don't laugh when you run.

Who let Jimmy Saville into the BBC building in the first place looking like Vicky Pollard's Dad? He'd have an asbo for dressing like that now. Or a Mercedes and a pitbull. Or both.

Why do moons grow on my fingernails but they don't grow all the way. What's keeping them at Half Moon-Rise?

Why do snorers wake up everyone in the street but themselves?

I'm just popping out

Is it socially acceptable to laugh at someone who is probably suffering from quite serious dementia?

As I have mentioned before, I have a Grandad. He's old, forgetful, tempestuous, forgetful, miserly and old. We have plenty of frustrating conversations with and about him. But really, he's loved too much for us to stay mad for long. Especially seeing as he doesn't stay mad for much more than the five minutes he can remember your name for.

I visited today with the children. He and my Gran had popped out and so had left a note on the cooker. It read...

Emma, 
          We have popped out to Mark's & Spencer. So we will not be in. 
If you call, the back door is unlocked. We will be back at 4pm (Friday). Don't stay long as Gran doesn't feel well and there's nothing for tea.

Grandad.

Maybe it's just me but I hadn't already discovered that the back door was unlocked, I would have not found his note. He informed me that they had popped out, then continued to let me know that the afore mentioned activity would mean that I would find them 'not in'. He TOLD me to come at 3.15pm, told me they wouldn't be back until 4pm and than asked me not to stay long. And there's nothing for tea? I'm sure that part of the message was for someone else.

I am aware that I notic even the tiny things because I'm aware there's a bigge problem. But how does one person get to the level of confusion that they can write such a letter? Did he not read it back and think "no, this doesn't make sense" or think to stick it to the back door?

It got progressively worse...

When they came back, he said it was a nice surprise to see us. He said that they had been to marks & Spencer's. And he asked if I got in OK and got his note. He offered me a cup of tea and asked ME where my Gran was.

Grans not getting any younger and if he marches off in the shop, she will lose him. He will forget her and go home.

She was waiting in the car as he told her he wouldn't be long.

I couldn't live with him or care the way she does. I have punched him on the nose and checked myself into a home a long time ago. But she loves him, although she will never admit it. And she doesn't want to admit he is disappearing anyway.

He bought 2 shirts in the sale. That he already has, so he can take them back with his original receipt and save money. So his brain still works well in part!

He also bought some cheap socks to give to the hedgehog. But he wouldn't be there until dusk and I can't be staying long because he's nothing for his tea.

What is disability?

You don't have to be in a wheelchair to be disabled. My uncle Dave has a sister and she's got a plastic leg but she's got a disabled badge in her car. Surely they gave her the leg so that she wouldn't be disabled anymore. She could get a normal job now like everyone else. People confined to wheelchairs can only get jobs in flat buildings or ones with lifts. So it's harder for them. 

   Obviously, she can't have a standing up for long job like dog walking or post lady. But she could have a sitting job at a desk. I suppose maybe her leg would ache after a while so she could have more days off or a part time job. 

   I think it's unfair to call her disabled, when she probably doesn't want to be labelled like that. She wears leggings every day so no one sees that it's a plastic leg. She doesn't wear skirts. She wants to be normal and do normal things and be treated the same. She can't Hoover up for long because her bad leg tingles and makes her nauseous. But her husband helps her. He gets 'carer's allowance' because when he's not at work he cares about her and does the things she hasn't managed to do that day. 

   I'd like to think Dane would care about me if I needed to have my leg off. Even if he didn't finish hoovering. 

   I think there's a fine line between being disabled and... well... abled. Most people could get a job, but your only DIS-abled if your UNable to get one for a certain reason, like there being no flat buildings left, or if your blind and they need a surgeon. What stands up as a disability at the moment? an alcoholic who cant get a job because hes too wasted to drive there? A guy with no arms because he cant flag the bus down? its confusing. For example; Someone has a car crash and they are in a wheelchair. Are they disabled? I don't know. They're not unable. They could answer phones and earn money that way. Unless they can't move their arms either. I think if you want to go to work but your in a wheelchair, you should be allowed but I have never seen it. Except my friend Dan. But he only answered phones at night in the taxi rank so he was still sort of disabled. 

   I think there should be a rule that every building should be ok for wheelchair access. I went to a pub once and even I nearly didn't make it up the steep steps. There wasn't a lift or a ramp or a stairlift. So no one who couldn't walk or struggled to walk, could go there. But the food was nice. So in effect, they are discriminating against a certain type of person. Dangling a carrot. "We have nice food but you're not allowed any because you can't reach it." It should be against the law. 

   I have a similar problem, come to think of it. In some shops, I can't reach the high shelves and have to ask. I know midgets will struggle more than me, but it's humiliating having to ask for help all the same. Especially if its tampax. 

   My mum is even shorter than me and when she's fuelling up her car she can't see the numbers on the pump meter. That's not fair. If we buy trousers, we have to buy 'short leg'. People with one leg don't have to buy trousers called 'one leg'. There'd be riots and all sorts.

   People take the glasses off your face and laugh, and try them on. If I nicked Sue's leg, I'd be disgraced in the paper. Why are certain things disabilities and certain things not?

I have one leg... Take a plastic one... Ooooh, still disabled.

I cant see... Take a pair of glasses.... Not disabled. 

Without my leg I can't walk. Without my glasses I can't see. 

   Am I missing something? I would think that Sue wanted the leg so she could be ABLE to do normal things. So then she shouldn't be labelled as disabled. 

   I would like to make a new political party where everyone will be treated the same. Gays can adopt, stools are dotted around tall shelved supermarkets, white people can wear dreadlocks, old people can rap. Why not? It would be fun to be normal. And I'm not even that weird. I rarely get stared at, but the people that do, would love my party to take power. I'm going to be the prime ministress, and you're all going to love it.

Elephants aren't even silent

   Has anyone ever wondered why some animals can't make noises? I wonder it all the time. Well, when I see a silent one. Like a rabbit. The only time they make a noise is when they bite into a carrot. 

   I was playing 'what noise does a ... Make' with Sienna, taking it in turns and she said to me 

"What noise does a bug make?"

 Well, she's three years old, so instead of asking which bug in particular, (I only know bee, fly and cricket) I made it up....

"Kshkshksh" 

"No Mummy. They say brrrrrrrr". 

Fair enough. One might. My turn. Easy one. 

"What about a horse?" 

"Hmm, clip clop clip clop". 

Can't really argue with that. Her turn again.

"What noises can hippos do, Mum?".

Now I'm certain I have never heard a hippo make any sound other than a yawn. So that was my answer.

"Mummy, I don't think you're very good at this game". 

Why can't she ask me what noise a dog makes? Or a bird, even a chicken or something?? When your three year old daughter asks questions you need google for, you know your lacking a whole department somewhere.

   But really, I sat afterwards thinking about it. There are millions of animals that don't make a noise. Rabbits, fish, lizards, hippos, giraffes, snakes. And so many others I wouldn't have a clue either way. Like antelope, cranes, newts or koala bears. I've only ever seen silent ones. 

Perhaps it's shyness or pure shock at the fact that we're filming them or throwing the leftovers of our spicy hot wings at them in a zoo. It's sad really, we made them lose their voices. Just through trauma or something. 

   I saw an advert telling people to please not go to circuses anymore because they make the elephants sit down like people and pull them on chains with spikes on. It was really quite sad because no one can save them. Circus people are scary. I wouldn't chance a kicking from a sprayed up clown or one of those blokes that can throw his wife up in the roof. Circus people are dead tough and creepy and they are the only people I know that could scare a six tonne animal with a spiky face into sitting like a dick with a stupid hat on. 

   It's the same with the dancing bears. Bears are hard. Whoever can catch one and make it dance will be left well alone, I assume. How the hell do you CATCH a bear? How do ou teach it to dance? And how do you force it to do it on demand. It makes me feel sick the way people treat animals. And no ones stopping them because they're really frightened of them. You'd think the governments of these places would have thought of a way to outsmart these people by now. Or even sneak in at night and set the animals free or something. 

   They killed a whale once because some people in America made it do tricks for people at Disney or somewhere. But then it got too old so they retired it and set it free. Except it didn't know how to be free and hunt and find where to live or some friends and a wife. So it got really sad and cold and hungry and it just died by itself. I got really upset about it because I was about ten. 

   But if I was a bear I'd just maul the guy to death and run. Or if I couldn't I'd rather die than be treated so badly. If you're a whale you can't do much really. So we should definitely be able to save whales. The circumstances in which you see these things happening are unexpected sometimes too which makes it more shocking. If you see a bear dancing or a circus advertising animals, don't go. And ring an animal charity for help. I don't think you can ring the RSPCA because its for pets but there will be others. We can't keep hurting them because we might kill them all . It's basic human rights. It's got to be against them. 

   I feel like running off and buying a bucket with a lid and going charity shaking for the animals but I'd get ignored. Because no one listens to horrible stories when they're trying to shop because they feel guilty. Plus the news is always sad anyway, so there's no point really. 

They Should Have Told You, Vincent

 I saw an advert that epitomises what is wrong with this world. There was two chocolate fingers at the top of a really nice stairway. The brunette one was being a cow to the blonde one. And the blonde one was trying to persuade the brunette that she wasn't like all the others, although she may look it. That inside she was different and special. But it all went wrong and the brunette stepped intensely towards the blonde who then fell down the amazing staircase and snapped in half on the floor!!! At which point the brunette saw that the blonde really WAS different. She was crunchy biscuit layered with smooth white chocolate and then original Cadbury's creamy milk chocolate. And realised that she was indeed fabulous. But it was too late. The blonde was already snapped.
   It's like Van Gogh. He was crazy and depressed and left handed and even one eared and people thought he was just an arty farty weirdo. It wasn't until his death that people realised how beautiful his works were and what a talent he was. Now his work sells for lots of money and has appreciation worldwide, but he's dead and he never heard anyone say anything nice about him or his work during his life. If only Don McLean had released his song a little earlier, maybe Vincent wouldn't have ended up with just one ear?
   People are so bitter and judgmental. And they don't realise how they could hurt someone for their entire life, not realising that the person was amazing, until they aren't there to hear it anymore.
   If we appreciated the people who really deserved it like Princess Diana, Oscar Blaketon and Linda McCartney. Instead of wasting our affections on flop stars and Gastro-band goddesses, I'm sure ourselves and our children would live life with a better understanding of what makes someone amazing.
   I'm not sure if I was just ranting or not but it was a very thought provoking advert. Maybe more so than Cadbury's intended. Bravo. I like the tea bag one as well.

Beige Bears

   If the Arctic melts, what exactly is going to happen? Why is this so awful? All of the animals can be taken to Antarctica, people can move out of low-lying areas, whales can just go to other cold water and everything will be fine.
   There's always such a big deal made about destroying animal habitats and wildlife. People pay £3 a month for rare leopards to be preserved. But there's no need. We have had the Ice Age and the big meltdown and there's still loads of things left. Only Mammoths and Dinosaurs are extinct, and they were a bit space consuming anyway. This way there's more room for the rest of us. One dinosaur skeleton takes up a room the size of a block of flats. They ate all the little things that were vegetarians and made the world a really dangerous place. It's a lot more chilled out in real life than it was in Jurassic Park.
   If things didn't get extinct we would have less jobs. All the archaeologists would be out of work. Paelientologists, historians, museums. There would be no 'causes' for people to feel passionate about, and everyone knows that's how we relieve our guilt about using too much electricity and driving the 3 minute walk to buy milk. How would we relieve this guilt otherwise? I'm quite happy to pay £3 a month for my sins.
   I don't know what the polar bears would do really. Whether they'd be happy to go to Antarctica or prefer Canada because there's other bears there and it's a bit warmer. Like moving from Norwich to Malaga. They would do what people have done and create half-cast bears. A whole new breed. In which case the worry of extinction would be replaced with the joy of discovering a beige bear. And all bears like fish anyway so it's not like they have to get used to paella.
   How shot down would I be for declaring myself all for this global warming? We'd still have the South Pole and maybe Theo Pathetis could do something with the North Pole. A wonderful shopping experience, if there is actually any land under all the snow. Maybe we'll find out one day. Maybe it's all about being an Optimus Prime because no one likes a Negatron. (Apologies)
   My last point on the matter is surely the most blatant point there is. Wouldn't we avoid droughts and hose pipe bans making summer not only globally warmer, but lots more fun.

The day the world really is definitely not going to end

I watched another programme. This time it was about people that prepare for their 'ultimate destiny'. The day the world ends.
When I say prepare, I mean hoard foods like a squirrel with nuts, build bunkers stronger than a beaver builds a dam, and clean their homes and children harder than Miss Tiggywinkle cleans her burrow.
Surely being compared to the most crazy, paranoid creatures in the animal kingdom would be enough to shake you back into reality. But no. These people know better than scientists and astronauts, how the world and its universe came into existence and precisely how and well this existence shall cease. Any comparison to another mammal would only egg them into building an ark to prepare the animal kingdom too. Protect the food chain. Maintain the protein stock. Ludicrous, but also completely sensical at the same time.
It's like these people know something we don't. If you let it get to you, you end up thinking, "Wow! Better hoard some rice. Build a house 5,000 feet above sea level with plenty of firewood."
Or you could watch them and think that they are completely wasting their entire lives waiting for the time they have to fight for it. These guys don't realise that the 'life' they are fighting for is no more than mere existence. An existence based on fear and paranoia. Who'd want to fight for that? Class A drugs are illegal for precisely those reasons.

There was a talk-over lady in this programme. She said that some scientists have declared these people the only people to survive, if such terrible circumstances were to actually arise. What a shocking state of affairs. We can't have aliens landing and meeting the ambassadors for the Human Race wearing gas masks and carrying squirrels in ziplock sandwich bags. We will be the laughing stock of the universe.
So it gets me thinking. There must be something we can do to stop this. To protect our reputation, our world, reality, normality. We need to capture them. All of these people. We need to create what they are dreading (or craving). And let them have it (As a gift of course). It would be a bit expensive creating all the pretend tsunamis and buying off terrorists etc. and I'm not sure how to pretend a polar shifting off its axis type thing that Mr O'Brien from Florida warned me about. But it would save us all a lot of anxiety and worry.
I know I think they're crazy and all, but really... When I REALLY think about it. There's a country. Korea I think. That people say we all should be very pleasant to and ridiculously careful of because the people there have nuclear powers. So I assume, with this level of weirdness, keeping away is probably going to be plan A in anyone's ring binder planner of plans.
I have heard of people catching radiation beams and getting ill and their brain rotting etc. but they look OK on the outside. But it's contagious. They can send the beams to you and you wouldn't know until your liver leaked out.
Koreans (if that's even the right country) have nuclear powers. As I don't know why, but newsreaders seem more scared of nuclear than of radiation. So what will it do? When a Korean man comes to England, decides he likes the look of Bournemouth and he'd quite like to see a football match. He waves his nuclear arms around shooting ions and protons or whatever at other hooligans. Then they go home and kiss their wives and children and mothers and pets. Fido and Kitty give it to Rover and Tiddles, who sneezes on a chaffinch that migrates to Sweden and gives it to a yak. Before you know it, the world and its bullfrog are riddled with nuclear mess and are dissolving left right and centre without knowledge.
Who's prepared for that? If you tell me YOU are, I'll bet you my latex gloves and sanitizer that your lying.

The point it has taken me far too long to make, is that I realised tonight... I don't want to waste my life trying to predict the future and prepare myself for it. I'd like to live right here and now and catch my nuclear flu quietly and hopefully die quite quickly and painlessly... If it even happens.

The Lost Race of Humanity

When you watch the rain run down the windows like the trickles are racing one another... Is that not more fun that scrolling through pictures of people's dinners and status updates about day 4 of their man flu? When the clouds move all around like floating jigsaw puzzles forming uncanny resemblance to a penis or a dragon on one leg... Is that less engaging than Harry from One Direction snogging Kerry Katona's nan in The Ivy? Why don't you want to lie listening to your children sleeping instead of Will I Am on your iPod?

Has technology and celebrity taken over the most special things we ever had? So far I know I sound like  a poet eating pot pourri, but I have a point. 

People don't eat as a family anymore. Kids don't kick balls against kerbs with other kids. We struggle to communicate face to face. We don't know how to show each other emotion or care. I don't even know my neighbours name, let alone her brand of sugar to borrow.

I like simple things. Nothing fancy. I don't need twitter or picture sharing things. I like to have life. Breathe air, visit friends as family and eat rolo's. I don't want to talk to someone twenty minute away on Skype. I might forget what they smell like. I don't want my pictures saved on Flickr. I want to flick through them and stroke the memories that I miss and savour them. Rolo's are alright. I don't need a Special K rolo style cereal bar to keep down the weight I haven't lost from clicking over to my friends new house on google earth this morning. 

Maybe I'm a spoil sport. Old fashioned and closed minded for my years. Or maybe I just feel that we have reached a point in our development and understanding of technology where we are replacing everything about us that makes us human. If life gets any easier we will all live to be too old and there'll be no room for babies or new animals to be born. We might be extincting our own race through greed and ambition. We are trying to make contact with space. With aliens. I disagree with this is so many ways. The main ones being that we don't communicate with our parents anymore, forget the aliens and give your dad a cuddle. And the fact that we are sending out communication signals saying "Hi, we're earth and we come in peace". We have these language problems within our own world. We don't KNOW what they're hearing. It could be "hi we're Twats and we'll bomb your houses." 

Leave things alone. It worries me. And this 2012 doomsday, end of the world, Armageddon, panic stations rumour is feeling more and more real every day. Someone, somewhere has been building robots to fight in Afghanistan. They are making MACHINES and teaching them SAS tricks. If one malfunctions and tells the rest they'll just kill us. All of us. It's worrying. Everything man made goes wrong at least once. My cooker did it earlier. Burnt my croquettes. It just proves you can't trust anyone but yourself. 

Pleasure and pain

Everyone has pet hates. I have more than I could count. Nails on a blackboard, squeaking of a balloon, people who constantly clear their throats. We ALL get shirty about something daft. It's not necessarily a bad thing though. Being the lovely British people that we are. Although we moan and groan and complain and write in to good old Terry Wogan and his 'points of view' and frown about the weather, whatever it may be... We absolutely LOVE to see other people's pain and suffering. The raged expression of a man struggling to get his pound back out of his trolley. It brings sunshine to our lives. The embarrassment of people pulling PUSH doors, tripping on the magic moving stair things, having chip and pin problems for their weeks worth of value groceries in supermarket rush hour. Brilliant for anyone lacking a smile.

Finding someone's weakness is one of life's greatest triumphs. Whether it be to whistle loudly when you know your completely out of tune, or to tap someone repeatedly on the shoulder calling out their name. It makes us genuinely happy. And obviously, My mind started to wander and meander.

As Brits, we like to see builders fall from scaffolding. I can't give you a reason for it but I can tell you that I'm smiling just thinking about it.
As Brits, we don't help if we see someone being attacked in the street, in case we get stabbed or don't get a cash reward, and god knows we may have to communicate with strangers.
As Brits, we love to see someone trying card after card at the cashpoint, and we love the joker who invented the game show style noise it makes to let the growing queue know that Mr Plastic Fantastic is flat broke.
We have a televised talent show where people who are nonsensically proud of themselves, perform for the entire nation with their whole hearts. They then get buzzed, laughed at, youtubed and tweeted about for all the wrong reasons. All because Barry and the lads from the warehouse told them they were world class.

We really are a horrible nation. Something must have caused us to become so sadistic and cruel. Maybe it was Margaret Thatcher, maybe not. Maybe it was the war, but probably not. Maybe I'll just move abroad.

Do illo's come in plain?

I saw a programme. A nature documentary. Not really my sort of thing but it was either that or Last of The Summer Wine.

It got me thinking... If we have plain lemurs and ring tailed lemurs, surely there's a plain version of everything. Like armoured illo's. But, apparently not. Illo's do not come in plain. There's not even a picture of one on google. So I'm thinking I may have sussed something out that even the scientists and Attenborough's haven't figured out yet. We must have extinct them. In the industrial revolution before google.

I feel awful knowing that we have killed them all and now future generations will never see one. Would they have been tameable? They may have been super friendly, made amazing pets, or worse. What if their blood carried the cure for AIDS or their boiled skeleton gave the cure for cancer.

But if they did, they'd be extinct before long anyway.

The guilt's gone.

I wonder what they tasted like?