Some folk like to tell ghost stories at this time of year. Here’s my take on that.
Sorry and thanks for stopping by.
Dorne x
Category: Just for a laugh.
I love to laugh…here I do.
A teenage greyhound’s first blog post. Love from the Daisy Dog.
I want to like, wash my bottom on the sofa in the lounge and then I may have another little snooze. Before you’re sick ,mummy has a big fluffy throw on there and a waterproof cover: and so my bottom will not make the sofa smell. Which is a shame, because I love all things smelly and fluffy. Cool!
She can’t do anything about my farts smells though. They are like something else. They’re awesome! Sometimes I have to run away from them. I mean where do they come from? Well, alright I know where they come from… but, I mean what have I been eating? Like! They’re so GROSS!
I’ve been living in this place like since January and it’s like okay.
I will be five in May of next year. Yeah, because I was like four in May of this year… get it?
I like to be cuddled and I love to get myself comfy on the sofa and screw the covers up. Sometimes I drag the covers off the sofa and dump them at the bottom of the stairs like. That’s awesome.
If dad leaves his empty coffee cup on the coffee table I like to get in there and have a slurp of it. Yummy. Yeah, that’s awesome – me… a teenage greyhound on caffeine. You’ve got to see it to believe it. Heard from downstairs, me in the bedroom sounds like an earthquake… cool – like!
Why is the coffee table called a coffee table like? Like does it need to have coffee all over it? I can help with that!
This thing called Christmas is coming like and mummy has put things called decorations up in the house… the whole house. Daddy says it’s too cluttered and mummy tells him it’s Christmas and to shut up – like. Later on I find daddy looking at the decorations and smiling. When mummy ( who is also known as she who is usually obeyed) asks daddy to put the lights up outside, at the front of the cottage ( because we have to emphasize we live in a cottage – like) he can’t get out there fast enough – like! This has nothing to do with mummy – she is trying to get her chocolate – filled bottom through the loft hatch, to find more Christmas decorations. Daddy may never get back in again. The decorations may fill the house – like.
Anyhow – like. I’ve discovered something called crackers. Mummy had carefully selected some to go with the rest of the rubbish she has on display – like. I got hold of one the other afternoon and showed it to daddy. He told she who is usually obeyed and she took the cracker away and then she moved the other crackers.
She’s forgetting that if I stand on my hind legs – like, I’m nearly six-foot tall… hah, hah! I could get the crackers – like.
Right, I’m bored now – like. I need to sleep a bit more, but I might come back again sometime – like.
If you’ve read this… cool! If not… I’m not really that bothered – like.
Big sloppy kisses and a right awful pong from The Daisy Dog x
You’ll either find this amusing… or not.
I’m still in the process of ploughing through my never ending blog posts. Embarrassing or what? I can tell you a lot of them are being trashed.
I came across this though and it never fails to make me laugh.
It’s not everyone’s idea of funny, but it’s mine. You know I’m weird anyway. Right? I just happen to think that this is very clever and the singing voices make it for me.
Incidentally, I love the proper version and to prove that I’m not completely nuts here it is, as well.
Thanks for watching/listening and reading.
Dorne x
I gave birth to a blog baby: it’s become a teenager!
Back in March of 2014, I got a bit tipsy one night and decided to start a blog. In the early hours of a Sunday morning I hit the publish button on my first post. (Click on here if you want to see that first virginal post.) I then went to bed and had nightmares about giant blog babies chasing me and people I knew laughing in my face. ( Hey, that happens a lot anyhow…so no change there.)
In the cold and sober light of the morning I gradually came to terms with my rash actions of the night before. What was done, was done. A bit like Brexit means Brexit! Only no one knows what the hell Brexit means, do they? The UK has done something that has never been done before and we’re flailing around in a sea of treacle. A bit like me and my blog really. (Click on Brexit if you want to be totally confused, depressed, resigned, a bit jittery, uncertain or whatever! ) It looks like London is doing well as a city, regardless of Brexit. Oh good! Those of us in the north of the UK presumably don’t count. It’s grim up here tha knows and that’s ow we love it! But, don’t get me started on that.
I likened the birth of my blog to that of giving birth to a baby. We girlies know all about the joy of that and the boysies know what it’s like to live with the expectant mum and then be presented with a bundle of new love – oozing poo, baby sick and wee. You may even be expected to feed it as well.
Pity my poor hubby as he lived with me, through the gestation period and then he witnessed me give birth to what can sometimes be something of a monster.
We bloggers bring these things alive and then they make their demands upon us. Our blog needs to be fed, nurtured and it wants to go out with its friends. It doesn’t care that we’re tired, have a migraine, ache all over, can’t think straight or need to clean the toilet. It wants our attention…AND NOW!
My blog baby has become a teenager.
- It has been known to get stroppy.
- It talks immature rubbish.
- It has had crushes…usually on folk that wear kilts. ( Jamie in Outlander would not have been at all safe a couple of years ago.) Although that could also be a mid-life crisis? Depressed about thunder – thighs and all that! Kilted men are safe now…the meds are working very well.
-
Saved by Vee - It has had bad-tempered rants.
- Used bad language.
- Has done posts…being embarrassed by them and promptly removed them.
- Its bedroom is one hell of a mess. ( You see, there is no need for that sort of language!)
- And it stays in bed too long. So what?
- In short it needs to get with it.
As some of you will know, I am in the process of getting this blog together. I can’t invite would be editors round to this place at the moment. They’d laugh in my face…again!
There are somewhere in the region of 400-500 posts in the intestines of this blog, on my last reckoning. And I’ve already trashed a lot of them. That’s how messy this teenager has become.
How did that happen? My poor grasshopper brain doesn’t do filing and tidy drawers very well.
Now, you’re probably thinking what kind of house do I live in, if I can’t keep my blog in order? The house is tidy…my drawers are not. I can’t keep a drawer, cupboard, wardrobe tidy to save my life. You would not want to rummage through my drawers…there’s some sort of smutty joke in there and the younger, more unruly version of this blog would have probably carried through on that threat. Not so now…we have matured slightly.
Going back to my somewhat inability to be terribly organised, some folk get high on tidy and organised. I save pins of neat and tidy on Pinterest…and then am unable to make it work. (Click on here to go to my Pinterest pages.)
In short, I am one of life’s muddlers. Not happy and remotely functional unless I have at least five things on the go at once. Somehow, they all get juggled and done. It’s the same with reading…several books at the same time and writing. I think it’s healthy to write different things at once. The same thing would bore me and would probably get abandoned. Leave it for a while and come back to it with fresh eyes and you might just have yourself a kind of decent first draft/chapter/article/ poem etc.
So, I have no one to blame but myself for the fact that I have given birth to a rather unruly and messy blog, which has become a haphazard teenager. Be warned…when the blog reaches its older years it will wear purple!
How about you? What stage is your blog at? Do you understand Brexit, Pinterest, or how damn easy it is to press that publish button, when a bit sloshed? And I don’t even drink very much…can’t. My damn stomach won’t let me. Add that to the thunder thighs!
Thanks for dropping by.
Dorne x
Nuisance phone calls: the latest batch.
Those damn and blasted nuisance phone callers keep calling…but, now I have a plan. Trouble is, since I drew up my plan the nuisances have become ever so polite and all too human.
They’re so sorry to bother me and is now a good time?
Would I be kind enough to complete a quick survey for the government? (Excuse me whilst I choke back the tears and hysterical laughter.) No can do? Not a problem thank you for being so kind as to answer your phone.
Honestly, if I didn’t know better I’d say that they’d been tapping my phone line and have got wind of my evil plans to fight back. ( If they’ve been tapping my phone line they will have heard far, far worse than that. I hope they have been tapping my phone line…it serves them damn well right.)
Anyhow, my script…yes you read that right, has gone unread. The phone rings, my heart races and I practically break my neck to get to the phone first, to answer. TOTAL DISAPPOINTMENT! An all too human, human being is on the other end of the line, being nice. They’re still on my phone, but, they’re being nice and I can’t be a nuisance to that kind of niceness. That would make me the villain of the piece…right?
I did have one SB ( scum bag/ swine bag/ son of a bitch!) though, who claimed to be from Microsoft.
” Maam, I’m calling you to tell you that your computer has being hacked.”
Nice, I thought and you lying little SB.
” I can rectify this for you,” he continued.
” Just who are you? ” I demanded.
“Maam, you have been hacked, but I can make it alright.”
Just like putting band-aid on a poorly knee! Of course the knee wasn’t poorly before they tried to hurt it …WAS IT!
“Just how do you know I’ve been hacked?!”
“You have,” he said.
“How do I know you’re from Microsoft? You could be anyone.”
“Maam, if you open up your computer and follow the details I give you, you will see.”
Yeah, I bet I would have!
This went of for about five minutes and then another SB, purporting to be the first SB’s supervisor came on the line.
“Maam, you need to give my colleague your details and let him sort out your computer, by remote control. You’ve been HACKED! ”
This deceitful attempt to ruin my computer only came to an abrupt end when the two SB’s were asked for a telephone number, so I could ring them back. Guess what? The line suddenly went dead.
But, what if someone out there had believed this despicable charade? These major SB’s could have gained access to someone’s computer to actually hack it.
Just what the hell is wrong with these people? Surely they can find some form of work that doesn’t involve fraud, dishonesty and basically being a despicable person? How do they live with themselves? How can they sleep at night? Cleaning toilets would be better than that crap! There…they’ve made me swear.
Needless to say I reported them. I won’t include the link, in case it is a fake site. I’m probably being watched by Men In Black now.
But, I’m a hopeful little soul and know it is only a matter of time before another SB rings me and I’m still hoping to be a snake whisperer, on stilts. I will be asking them a few questions of my own and sharing a few thoughts/secrets…including:
- Can you describe yourself to me?
- Do you love me?
- Will you read me a story ?
- Do you believe the Earth is round?
- Last night I was abducted by aliens.
- Can I sing to you?
- I’m wearing my granny pants today.
- Where am I?
Oh, the world is my oyster with the many things I can say to these blasted pests.
So, why not join me in my quest to give back as good as you get with these damn nuisances? Feel free to join in and let’s make their day that bit more interesting and memorable. (Like the ones you’d rather forget.)
They deserve everything they get.
Thanks for dropping by.
Dorne x
Long time no hear, or see!
I haven’t been very active in blogland just recently, though I have tried to write posts…and failed…clearly. Asking myself repeatedly what my readers want from me, I have drawn a big fat BLANK. I suspect I will never really grasp this blogging thing.
And so, I have decided to just tell you how I feel at present. The answer to that can be seen in the above picture.
Here it is again.
I’m not going to bore you with all of the details ( I would have done at one time, so maybe that’s progress?) it’s just suffice to say that I feel like this.
I’m guessing that there are quite a few of you out there that will be able to identify with this feeling and image. In fact I know there are…I have been reading your blogs. Life gets you like this sometimes…right?
So, I’m still here and when I can get myself up from here I will bore you yet again.
In the meantime thanks for taking the time to stop by here. If you’ve started to follow me recently, thanks.
If you are also feeling like this add you comment and then we can all lie here together like this, for a while.
I don’t know about you, but left leg has gone into cramp, my back is killing me and my bottom is cold and wet.
It might be easier to just write a damn blog post and stop moping around?
Dorne x
Do you make lists and do you stick to them? A blast from my past.
On my long trawl through my blog archives I’ve found this. It isn’t brilliant, but it beats some of the cringe-worthy stuff that resides in the colon of my blog.
I am still guilty of making endless lists. I have now left the sexy red phone (see below) behind…the Daisy dog got hold of it. I have a more super-duper model…black and sporting a purple cover. (Just so you know!)
I very carefully and methodically type in my day’s lists. They pop up at the appointed time…I snooze them. They pop up again, I snooze them. They try again to remind and inspire me. I snooze then until the next day or I swear at them and delete them!
There’s no hope really.
When I penned the offending post below, I was about to go to my sister’s wedding. My sexy red phone had gone on the blink and was in for repairs. I’d been given something that kind of passed as a phone as a temporary measure. I was not a happy bunny.
I received word that my sexy red phone was waiting for me, in Scarborough…on the morning of the wedding…and I was in Gloucestershire.
I went on to get very badly lost in the car ( Sat Nav on sexy red phone…not on the dinosaur I took with me) , was very late and I got quite drunk on whisky that night. The wedding was lovely and my sis and brother-in-law looked fab and very happy.
I’m a great lover of lists of things to do. They decorate my fridge door and I have them dotted around the heap, that I call my desk.
In addition to this, I also keep a diary [ Myslexia], use my diary on my laptop and, when I’m in possession of my sexy red phone, I use the diary and notebook on there as well.
We won’t mention the mobile phone, as I am still stuck with the ‘ Samsung inadequate ‘ and unless some miracle happens today, it looks like I will be stuck with it until next week. I fully expect to receive an email when I arrive in Gloucester tomorrow, informing me that my phone is awaiting me in Scarborough.
As well as using my lists to get myself organised on a daily basis, I also use them to organise my writing.
If find that if I arrive at what I call my desk, others might call a tip, with a list, I might be in with a fair chance of actually doing something productive. And I get to cross off the things as I do them. Or, they sit and stare at me, as I fail to cross them off. This worries me somewhat and I add this to my list. Then, I add to my list that I have added this and then add that, as well.
I’m a sad case. [We know that, don’t we?] If I need a boost, I will add things to my list that I’ve already done and cross them off, for the sense of achievement and excitement. [ Yeah, I need to get out more.]
At other times, I will methodically write out a detailed list and plan of action and then lose it…in my drawers. I’VE LOST SO MANY THINGS IN MY DRAWERS, IT’S UNBELIEVABLE! Don’t even go there!
So to recap:
- I write lists.
- They’re everywhere.
- I still can’t get organised.
- There’s no hope for me.
- At all.
- I don’t go out.
- I just write lists all of the time.
- I lose them in my massive drawers.
- Lists go in those places and never come out again.
- In fact, quite a few things go in those places and never come out again.
- It’s a whole new world in there.
Do you write lists, to help with your writing or daily routine? Do you lose them? Do you need to get out more? Do you even care? Do you know what I’m going on about now? Please tell me.
I must go now and continue to plough through ‘the mother of all lists’ that I have set myself for today.
I suspect that I am going to need another list, to help me with the original list. And then there’s prioritising the list. OMG!
When I get down to Gloucester I can make a list for what I need to do there. [Gloucester will never be the same again.] Then, I can make a list of things to do, to get us back up the country. And of course, on my return I will have another list of things to do, at home.
I think I will be spending Monday in bed, getting over the b****y lists.
Of course, I could just throw caution to the wind and wing it!
Yeah, I might just do that and arrive at my sister’s wedding wearing my posh dress, with my muck boots. Because I didn’t have a list to remind me to take my high heels with me.
I’m off to burn my list now and live dangerously. Why not join me and create a f*ck it list, as in the image!
Thanks for dropping by.
Dorne x
