In July, I had an anonymous comment on my blog which amused me:
Wοnԁerful article! That is the kind of info thаt are
meant to be shareԁ аcгоss thе net.
Shame on the seek engines for nοt positionіng this
ѕubmit hіgher! Ϲomе on ovеr аnd seeκ advice from
my website . Thаnk you =)
Feel free to surf my web page :: Roxy Bedding
My comment on his comment: Anon, let me give you a piece of advice. If you are to establish a convincing presence on the Internet, you ought to learn the jargon. Although your term 'seek engine' made me spit into my tea, it's probably something you should go and research. 'Shame on the seek engines' indeed, however, for not positioning my submit higher. I have been thinking the same thing for a long time.
In August, I was in the mood for murdering well-known nursery rhymes:
Mary had a little lamb.
The midwife had a fit.
She, thinking it would be a child,
Had not expected it.
She glanced at Mary, wondering,
If Mary had a clue
That instead of having a mini-me
She'd had a mini-ewe?
You can read the rest of the silliness right here
In September, I had yet another letter from Santa explaining that he didn't have the following items I'd ordered:
1. Magic pyjamas which guarantee successful Clooney dreams
2. A book called 'Eat Cake: Look Like a String Bean'
3. Sexy red sparkly shoes with 6 inch heels but in an extra-wide fitting for the older lady
4. A book called 'Look Glamorous in a Woolly Cardigan'
5. A sofa with an inbuilt massage system to tone your thighs while you watch TV
6. A book called 'Walking for Pleasure and other Oxymorons'
You can read the rest of his letter here and all my other letters from Santa are under the 'Santa writes to me' label
In October, I was having trouble finding what I wanted on the Internet:
I google 'Nursery Rhymes' because I'm thinking I might ruin a few for people by adapting them, just for something to do. Up comes 'Baa Baa Black Sheep'. I click on that to get the rhyme, and it takes me straight to a website featuring Italian women in skimpy underwear and a big flashing message saying, 'I am Lolita and if you call me right now, we can do lots of sexy talk.'
Well, Lolita, I am Fran, and if I called you right now, I'm afraid sexy talk would not be on the agenda, but just to pep up your night, I could run you through the basics of semicolons, the apostrophe, and the difference between the active and passive voice.
The rest of the post is here
November found me reminiscing about the teachers I had at school ...
Another one I recall is a Design & Technology teacher. I think he was Mr Drysdale, and he had a long nose, mud-green trousers on spindly legs, and an allergy to fourteen year old girls who didn't know how to draw a straight line, even with a ruler. He reluctantly took me into his class because I had been thrown out of something else, probably Art. I remember when I arrived at his door to tell him I'd been 'transferred'. He probably said something like, 'What? From Broadmoor? Frightening the others, were you?' Put it this way, he was as pleased to have me in his class as anyone is to get repeat attacks of scabies.
For more, go here
And then, in December, I finished off the year by writing about custard:
1. I once knew someone who used to like her custard really thick. We went round for dinner once and, again, she served up the kind of custard you have to slice. It's all a bit awkward, that kind of thing, isn't it? What do you say? She says something like, 'Hope the custard's not too thick' and you have to be polite and try NOT to say, 'No, it's fine. I love my custard the consistency of ready-mix concrete. It's the only way.' or 'Thick? You think THIS is thick? Don't you remember the cheese sauce you gave us LAST time?' or 'Of COURSE it's not too thick. Oops! What's that in my bowl? My DENtures?'
For more on custard, go here
2013 will see me continuing to hold forth on the significant issues of the day, profound intellectual arguments and important moral dilemmas. I hope to see you there. And, if you stayed with me during 2012, I thank you from the bottom of my bloggy heart.