Fun Fun Fun
More fun with family court judgments
From the factual background of a judgement on an application to amend an access order:
8. The parties were subsequently unable to agree on various aspects of the child’s upbringing, being his schooling, and his involvement (at the father’s instigation) in the Roman Catholic Church and (at the mother’s instigation) in nudist activities.
Ha!
(By the way, I’m not linking to these judgments, but in case anyone wondered, they are on the public record. Just so nobody thinks I’m committing an egregious breach of privacy or anything.)
More fun with the annoying co-worker
This might only amuse me, but I have to share that the first thing he did after getting in this morning was pick up the phone to his wife and immediately start telling her that his shirt has a mark on it and can she be more careful in the future with the laundry, and then launched into an informative little monologue about mixing whites and darks. This couldn’t have waited until he got home?
More fun with food
Yesterday I bought some of the delicious Greek yoghurt that is my current obsession (actual conversation with my mother - Me: “I’m addicted to the yoghurt they sell at that place. I think it has, like, crack cocaine in it or something.” Her: “Oh, I know. Have you tried the cappuccino flavour? That one has crack cocaine and…something even more addictive in it”. I love my mother, but the mistress of the off-the-cuff simile she is not.)
Anyway, I strongly suspected that I would crave it later in the evening, so I put it (in its plastic container, in a plastic bag) in my handbag. And then I ran for a bus, and on the bus discovered that the lid had come off the container and the yoghurt had oozed into the plastic bag. I had to take it out of my handbag and hold it on my lap to make sure the container, with its remaining yoghurt, stayed upright (well, what would you have done at this point?).
So basically I sat there on my crowded commuter bus with a plastic bag filled with thick off-white goop on my lap. For forty minutes. Fun times.
And yes, I know this anecdote has no point. Originally it was a segue in a post about oral sex, so count your blessings, okay?
I'm working on a longer and more coherent post about the concept of the Upper Hand in relationships at the moment. Any thoughts? Email me.
From the factual background of a judgement on an application to amend an access order:
8. The parties were subsequently unable to agree on various aspects of the child’s upbringing, being his schooling, and his involvement (at the father’s instigation) in the Roman Catholic Church and (at the mother’s instigation) in nudist activities.
Ha!
(By the way, I’m not linking to these judgments, but in case anyone wondered, they are on the public record. Just so nobody thinks I’m committing an egregious breach of privacy or anything.)
More fun with the annoying co-worker
This might only amuse me, but I have to share that the first thing he did after getting in this morning was pick up the phone to his wife and immediately start telling her that his shirt has a mark on it and can she be more careful in the future with the laundry, and then launched into an informative little monologue about mixing whites and darks. This couldn’t have waited until he got home?
More fun with food
Yesterday I bought some of the delicious Greek yoghurt that is my current obsession (actual conversation with my mother - Me: “I’m addicted to the yoghurt they sell at that place. I think it has, like, crack cocaine in it or something.” Her: “Oh, I know. Have you tried the cappuccino flavour? That one has crack cocaine and…something even more addictive in it”. I love my mother, but the mistress of the off-the-cuff simile she is not.)
Anyway, I strongly suspected that I would crave it later in the evening, so I put it (in its plastic container, in a plastic bag) in my handbag. And then I ran for a bus, and on the bus discovered that the lid had come off the container and the yoghurt had oozed into the plastic bag. I had to take it out of my handbag and hold it on my lap to make sure the container, with its remaining yoghurt, stayed upright (well, what would you have done at this point?).
So basically I sat there on my crowded commuter bus with a plastic bag filled with thick off-white goop on my lap. For forty minutes. Fun times.
And yes, I know this anecdote has no point. Originally it was a segue in a post about oral sex, so count your blessings, okay?
I'm working on a longer and more coherent post about the concept of the Upper Hand in relationships at the moment. Any thoughts? Email me.
posted by tanya at 10:32 am
1 Comments:
font alert. i read your blog several times and each time i came up with "off the cuff smile", an intriguing concept in itself. or maybe i just need new glasses.
i am annoyed that dictionary.com agrees with your spelling of "simile". i think simile deserves more "i's".
i will start signing my comments when i think up an identity for myself. or maybe i just need a personality.
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