So; this stuff about alcohol being "bad" for one. I'm not convinced. Once, for a full week, I ate nothing, and just drank. I lost two days; but they were Monday and Wednesday, the most troublesome days of the week. I also lost a stone. So how, HOW, I say, is that proof that it's a "bad" "thing"?
Thank you.
Thursday, 2 September 2010
Monday, 16 August 2010
Aunty's lost all her words!
Gasp! The, the, a friend, the, and then, but, the
So; darlings. My pal has just told me that her father follows this blog. THIS blog. I might tell you that Aunty was in awe of this chap thirty years ago, and the idea that he might now be reading my words makes me stumble more than a gallon of cheap Rioja. Silver-screeny, he is. Gasp.
Lord. I'll have to start writing something interesting and pithy pretty damn soon, no?
So; darlings. My pal has just told me that her father follows this blog. THIS blog. I might tell you that Aunty was in awe of this chap thirty years ago, and the idea that he might now be reading my words makes me stumble more than a gallon of cheap Rioja. Silver-screeny, he is. Gasp.
Lord. I'll have to start writing something interesting and pithy pretty damn soon, no?
Thursday, 8 July 2010
AAAIIIYYYEEEEE! Who's handing out these driving licences?
It's not a generalised attack on women; no, it's specifically about a dopey-arsed tart whom I encountered this afternoon.
Firstly, I have to say that it's lovely that she took the time to paint herself the colour of mahogany. It's also just splendid that she's bleached and straightened her hair so comprehensively that it bears no resemblance to a natural fibre and could accurately be classed as man-made. It's also adorable that she's paying homage to the England football team by dressing like every WAG that ever stumbled on to the pavement with a Cricket bag held aloft for maximum exposure.
What I don't appreciate is that, having put the top down on her car, she's re-enacting every cheesy car advert she's ever seen, by DRIVING WITH ABANDON IN THE SUNSHINE, CRUSTY HAIR BEING TOSSED AROUND, AT 60 MILES AN HOUR THROUGH A CAR PARK, DIRECTLY TOWARDS ME, VEERING AWAY AT THE LAST MOMENT TO THROW THE CAR WITH ABANDON IN TO A PARKING SPOT.
It's not that I don't enjoy the excitement; I also didn't mind having an opportunity to watch my life flash before my eyes, since it did provide such wonderful, magnificent viewing.
But really; who in Hades is handing out driving licences to these pokey-arsed little bitches?
And: rest.
Thank you.
Aunty
x
Firstly, I have to say that it's lovely that she took the time to paint herself the colour of mahogany. It's also just splendid that she's bleached and straightened her hair so comprehensively that it bears no resemblance to a natural fibre and could accurately be classed as man-made. It's also adorable that she's paying homage to the England football team by dressing like every WAG that ever stumbled on to the pavement with a Cricket bag held aloft for maximum exposure.
What I don't appreciate is that, having put the top down on her car, she's re-enacting every cheesy car advert she's ever seen, by DRIVING WITH ABANDON IN THE SUNSHINE, CRUSTY HAIR BEING TOSSED AROUND, AT 60 MILES AN HOUR THROUGH A CAR PARK, DIRECTLY TOWARDS ME, VEERING AWAY AT THE LAST MOMENT TO THROW THE CAR WITH ABANDON IN TO A PARKING SPOT.
It's not that I don't enjoy the excitement; I also didn't mind having an opportunity to watch my life flash before my eyes, since it did provide such wonderful, magnificent viewing.
But really; who in Hades is handing out driving licences to these pokey-arsed little bitches?
And: rest.
Thank you.
Aunty
x
Wednesday, 7 July 2010
Emmeline Pankhurst has failed on the roads
Nowhere is Emmeline Pankhurst's legacy less in evidence than on the roads. Why oh why oh why oh why (etc) do so many women drive as though they're tentatively giving it a go, in the hope that someone will come along and give them permission to do it properly?
Get in the car, grow some balls, and get on.
Thank you.
xx
Get in the car, grow some balls, and get on.
Thank you.
xx
Friday, 25 June 2010
Bosom etiquette and petrol prices
I put petrol in my car. When I finished, the total wasn't a figure; it just read "You owe us a kidney". From now on, I shall be driving at twenty miles per hour in fourth gear. I may even buy a driving hat and gloves. And I could get a tartan picnic blanket and fold it neatly and put it on the parcel shelf.
So. I was out and about, and some things came to my attention about summer attire. Women: know your rack. Twice, I saw women wearing fitted tops, with strapless bras beneath. How do I know they were strapless? Why, because the elastic around the top of the bra was chopping these women's racks in half horizontally. The four-bosom look doesn't work, ladies. Buy a mirror.
Maxi dresses; they're all the rage, no? Marvellously voluminous, but really loves - if you're wearing one, make sure it fits. There is nothing so unseemly as a woman constantly tugging at the fabric beneath her armpits in an effort to make sure her frock isn't falling down.
And lastly, in a league quite her own; a pregnant woman. She must have been a size 8, with a huge bump. A proper, neat and tidy, though huge, bump. And she was wearing a zebra print frock. A figure hugging, tight, zebra print frock. As she walked towards me, I couldn't take my eyes off it; it was like watching a flame. Or J-Lo's behind.
Anyway. The sun is out, and the Pimms is on order. Oh yes; not for me the tedium of going to the shop. I have a man who brings the Pimms to me. This is what you should all be aspiring to. I like to set the bar high.
Good afternoon to you all, my darlings
Love as ever
Aunty
xx
So. I was out and about, and some things came to my attention about summer attire. Women: know your rack. Twice, I saw women wearing fitted tops, with strapless bras beneath. How do I know they were strapless? Why, because the elastic around the top of the bra was chopping these women's racks in half horizontally. The four-bosom look doesn't work, ladies. Buy a mirror.
Maxi dresses; they're all the rage, no? Marvellously voluminous, but really loves - if you're wearing one, make sure it fits. There is nothing so unseemly as a woman constantly tugging at the fabric beneath her armpits in an effort to make sure her frock isn't falling down.
And lastly, in a league quite her own; a pregnant woman. She must have been a size 8, with a huge bump. A proper, neat and tidy, though huge, bump. And she was wearing a zebra print frock. A figure hugging, tight, zebra print frock. As she walked towards me, I couldn't take my eyes off it; it was like watching a flame. Or J-Lo's behind.
Anyway. The sun is out, and the Pimms is on order. Oh yes; not for me the tedium of going to the shop. I have a man who brings the Pimms to me. This is what you should all be aspiring to. I like to set the bar high.
Good afternoon to you all, my darlings
Love as ever
Aunty
xx
Friday, 21 May 2010
Two thin is better than one thick
When you're doing your nails, darlings, remember: two thin coats of nail polish. Not just one big gloopy coat.
Also: some advice with regard to cleavage.
Today, Aunty cracked out a new frock, and quite splendid it was too, but this you already know. However, I didn't check it well enough from all angles before I went out - a rookie mistake. When I returned home, having received more solicitous attention from shop staff than even I usually experience, I realised that the neckline was perhaps a little low. Saturday night cleavage is not appropriate for Friday morning at the shops.
So. Keep an eye on The Girls, and do some alterations to your clothes as appropriate.
Thank you. You may continue with your weekend.
Much love, as ever
Aunty
x
Also: some advice with regard to cleavage.
Today, Aunty cracked out a new frock, and quite splendid it was too, but this you already know. However, I didn't check it well enough from all angles before I went out - a rookie mistake. When I returned home, having received more solicitous attention from shop staff than even I usually experience, I realised that the neckline was perhaps a little low. Saturday night cleavage is not appropriate for Friday morning at the shops.
So. Keep an eye on The Girls, and do some alterations to your clothes as appropriate.
Thank you. You may continue with your weekend.
Much love, as ever
Aunty
x
Sunday, 9 May 2010
It's not a lollipop, you know...
Dear drivers (in particular of course: those in front of the Lushmobile)
Whilst driving, if you happen to see something at the side of the road that looks rather like a six foot tall lollipop, bearing the pattern of a white circle, with a black line running across it rather like a Miss World sash - it means something. Really! I know, it's amazing to think it's not just there for decoration. No indeed! In fact, it pertains to the speed limit on that particular stretch of road. Craziness!
And let Aunty be the first to educate you in the ways of the black and white lollipop - it's telling you that the National speed limit applies. That means 60mph on a single carriageway road, or 70 mph on a dual carriageway or motorway. I know that those terms are really ever so confusing, so allow me to help you out.
If, when you look in your rear view mirror, there is nothing behind you; and if you glance to your right and you see cars flying past at warp speed, you're on a dual carriageway, or a motorway.
On the other hand, if there is a queue of traffic behind you so long that it can be seen from space; if, every once in a while an angry, frustrated, and mildly terrified looking driver manages to pass you at high speed in a low gear, praying all the while that nothing comes round the bend in the other direction, then you're on a single carriageway road. In that situation, you must turn left at the first opportunity, abandon your car, collect your travel rug and your driving hat, and walk the rest of the way.
Bastard.
Whilst driving, if you happen to see something at the side of the road that looks rather like a six foot tall lollipop, bearing the pattern of a white circle, with a black line running across it rather like a Miss World sash - it means something. Really! I know, it's amazing to think it's not just there for decoration. No indeed! In fact, it pertains to the speed limit on that particular stretch of road. Craziness!
And let Aunty be the first to educate you in the ways of the black and white lollipop - it's telling you that the National speed limit applies. That means 60mph on a single carriageway road, or 70 mph on a dual carriageway or motorway. I know that those terms are really ever so confusing, so allow me to help you out.
If, when you look in your rear view mirror, there is nothing behind you; and if you glance to your right and you see cars flying past at warp speed, you're on a dual carriageway, or a motorway.
On the other hand, if there is a queue of traffic behind you so long that it can be seen from space; if, every once in a while an angry, frustrated, and mildly terrified looking driver manages to pass you at high speed in a low gear, praying all the while that nothing comes round the bend in the other direction, then you're on a single carriageway road. In that situation, you must turn left at the first opportunity, abandon your car, collect your travel rug and your driving hat, and walk the rest of the way.
Bastard.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)