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Welcome to the world of:-

Grumpy 


     Woman

If I didn't do this, I would be the mad woman you see wandering round Tesco's muttering obscenities and smelling of wee.

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Shame of Thrones

I am a wuss. There has never been any dispute about this. I am lucky if I can make my way through a 15 cert without the after effects of whatever I’ve seen haunting me for days to come. This lack of balls, causes me much angst, as I am an avid film watcher and know I have missed out on what are no doubt  phenomenal films because I just can’t cope with gratuitous violence.


Tour De Rants

It was bound to happen. A woman like me can only hold her tongue for so long before her bile becomes indigestible, and I have to spit words. Besides to be frank, this one has been brewing for months.

Bicycles, bicycles, bicycles–They are everywhere, apparently one in 10 of us now cycles at least once a week. Really! Well, I know at least 10 people that don’t, and I’m certain no one has ever asked me!


Fifty Shades of
Whey Hey

I stand before the world this evening a defeated woman. Oh yes, my world as I know it is on the brink of irrevocable change. My life is meaningless and my relationship ruined. My only hope of consolation I think is to spend several hours flagellating my self with  the most vicious looking begonia I can  find.


The Lady is not for Burning

I normally reserve these levels of anger and disgust to crimes punishable by the return of the death penalty and it is with some large degree of surprise that I find myself writing this particular blog.


Like many of my generation I grew up hating Margaret Thatcher, but upon hearing of her death I felt no urge to jump up and down with glee. I am appalled by some of the comments and events that the last few days have shown.

Cat Gives Life for Quantum Leap

This is written as a warning to anyone out there that is not totally and utterly prepared to have their brain completely scrambled. 


It is a warning not to browse unsuspectingly through the online papers looking for interesting articles, and I urge, no implore you not to go near the science section unless you are very, very clever and have lots of degrees in things like physics. 

Absinthe Makes the Heart Grow Fonder

I have been away from my blog for quite some time and have to confess that upon my return my thought  is more melancholy than mirth.  The other side of a couple of glasses of red wine (Absinthe sounded good in the title but is actually a lethal concoction that should only be drunk in extreme cases  of alcohol shortage i.e. Nothing else left in the cupboard) and rather a lot of time spent on your own can make one more than a little introspective.

Gamers no Brainers?

With Christmas rapidly approaching, it was with some interest that I read two stories in the papers this week connected with the side effects that over exposure to computer games, mobile phones and the Internet have on our children.


The first piece was reporting on a clinic recently opened in Central London that specifically treats children aged between 12-17 with addiction to computer games. The clinic of course is private and they did not disclose how much the treatment cost, but I think it’s fair to assume that it won’t be within the grasp of the average Joe.


It unfortunately also did not indicate in terms of hours what constituted addictive behaviour or what their treatment methods are.


Mobile Hookah 

Brings Relief to Thousands!

I failed dismally to maintain most of my new years resolutions by about January the 2nd. They are to be found in the recycle bin ready to be dredged up again later in the year, along with the weekend papers pull out promises to make me slimmer and fitter in only four weeks.


Four weeks, four weeks you’re having a laugh! 


It’s taken me the best part of 30 years to get my body into this stunning state of depraved neglect.


Super Size?

 ME?

Ok that’s it. I’ve put this off for sooooo long. Its time to take some action.


Having faced yet another wardrobe crisis. (For those of you that  have never experienced this, it is when you go to your wardrobe  and utter those despairing words of:- “Oh no I haven’t a thing to wear.”


This is not because you don’t have any number of lovely outfits to  choose from it’s because you have allowed yourself to get so  porky you can’t bloody fit in to anything anymore.

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