I've Gone all Mushy Inside (but i kind of like it)

I follow a blog by a lovely lady by the name of Ginny. You can find her here at Praying to Darwin. Give her a read, she keeps me clutching my ribs and I giggle till my little lungs can giggle no more. Put it this way, if you're a smoker, don't smoke while reading her blog. You may hurt yourself.

One of her recent posts, Maybe a Girl's Best friend. Just Not This Girl touched me. As you will read, Ginny’s post isn't about diamonds but rather, it’s about how her hero wouldn’t buy her a big flippin’ ten-ton-tessy necklace but rather give her something with some meaning. Her other half being the REAL Hero she needs.

I understand what she's hootin' on about first hand. While some of you look at your boyfriends and husbands and touch wood you will never see them hurt, I touch wood that I will never see mine hurt again. I don’t want to go into details but a couple of years back Justin took a bullet in the form of a size 10 Nike sneaker… to the head.

When you see your other half in a way that I saw Justin that night you realise that nothing really matters. You know what love really means when you’re rattling off their blood group, what their allergic too and an entire medical history rite down to his last dental check up. He can’t remember any of that night. I don’t think I would want him too, even if he could.

I would rather trade all the diamonds in the world than see him hurt like that again. I would rather us both be poor and just have each other than have the world but have no one to share it with.

So every year when he produces presents for me I always accept them with a huge smile and hug. To be honest, he could be giving me a clump of dirf decorated with dryer lint, little does he know that my big present every year is really just having him by my side and watching his eyes light up as I open my gifts. But please don’t tell him though, his ego is big enough already and I've really got my hear set on a slanket.

I still want a Slanket!

A week ago I wrote this blog. On my list to santa, you will see that I noted down I wanted a Slanket. A slanket is a blanket with sleeves. Justin has been giving me grief about my slanket request. Personally, I think it's a damn good idea. Nothing worse than trying to drink a cup of tea and having a flight with the blanket in the process. And think of travelling. How much easier would it be to have a slanket on a plane instead of a static blanket that has covered many people before you.

However, while I think it's a great idea and I very much want one, it seems the world is against me and world rather make of fun of the idea.

Laugh all you want but I still want one. And when I get one, who will be the one laughing when you have cold arms?

Naught Words in Public Places

I’ve been told that I write very amusing stories. I’ve also been told that I have a gift. I’d say it’s more down to having too much time on my hands but hey, I’ll run with gift! Hehe

However all those complements aside, I was quite perplexed a few moments ago when I was told, that seeing as my blog is not a profession blog I should really let it all hang out and take some chances. I shouldn’t stop at the PC stop sign nor should I sensor my writing with words like, ‘heck’ and ‘flipping.’ This person went on to tell me that I should even invite those who I rip the heck out of into my magic online world as to provoke a response to my online banter.

I just think that there is no need for a public dirt fight. Further to this, why must I swear? I think I get my point across just fine and dandy without using naughty words.
However seeing as this as been brought to my attention, going forward I will try to be a little more Avant-garde and think outside the box. I don’t think that swearing is the way to do this but I’ll give it a try.

FUCK, SHIT, CUNT!
Were you offended, in an arty-farty way that left you wondering and desiring more? Like a leather-bound man in an S & M club with a feather up his ass?
No? Didn’t think so….