Tag Archives: comedy

See what I have to deal with?


Here’s an enquiry that dropped into my inbox earlier:

Hi, I am looking for any style of photography, I would love a traditional style but also with an edgy style too.

What? So let me get this right. You have no preference to style as long as it’s both traditional and edgy? Super.

Have you missed me? I haven’t just been being tardy with the blog, I’ve been trying to get to you to tell you everything that’s been going on but there’s just been so much of it. Life is anything but dull these days.

A couple that Boofuls and I know quite well phoned and asked us if we’d do them a huge favour and go on a hotel break for them. Huh? Hotel break? Do my ears deceive me?

It seems they’d bought a voucher for a hotel break, found themselves unable  to go and would lose the money of they cancelled so decided they’d like to give it to us. Fab!

The hotel was in the East Midlands. A very grand stately home. “Well, go on then, it’ll be tough but we’ll take it off your hands”, we told them. That’s the nearest thing we’ll be getting to a holiday for a few months.  I was really looking forward to it. Do you want to see where we stayed?  It’s here. Not too shabby, eh?

 

Source: teachers.org.uk
Source: teachers.org.uk

A few days before we were due to go we got a phone call from Boofuls sister telling us that his brother was seriously ill. Boofuls went down to see him immediately and we decided that we’d tag another trip to see him onto the end of our hotel break.

Talk about zigzagging around! We left the north west to go east and then left there to go south west as far as we could get without falling off the end of the country.

Cripes! That was a lot of driving.

I’m going to gloss over a lot of stuff now *gloss gloss gloss*  suffice to say that we were glad we went.

What did I learn from this trip? We have some nice friends. Families matter. Boofuls and me don’t spend enough time alone together. The whole trip was a roller coaster of emotions ranging from elation to devastation – sometimes in the space of a few minutes.

What else did I learn? That we need to visit Devon far more often than we do. I used to live there as a child and I’d forgotten how much I liked it. Tell me again why we live here when we could live there?

An a totally different note: Boofuls sent me this link to a Steve Martin sketch, I laughed so much the dog came in to see what was going on. Enjoy.

http://rubytooth.com/link/45516

Advertisements

Aaaawww, kids, eh? You have to love ’em


Boofuls sent me this earlier and it  was a welcome relief after a hard morning’s photo editing.

Enjoy, I did.

What, you ask, is ‘Butt dust’?  

 

JACK (age 3) was watching his Mum breast-feeding his new baby sister. 

After a while he asked: ‘Mum why have you got two?  Is one for hot and 

one for cold milk?’ 

 

MELANIE (age 5) asked her Granny how old she was. Granny replied 

she was so old she didn’t remember any more. Melanie said, ‘If you don’t 

remember, you look in the back of your panties. Mine say five to six.’ 

 

STEVEN (age 3) hugged and kissed his Mum good night. ‘I love you so 

much that when you die I’m going to bury you outside my bedroom window. 

 

BRITTANY (age 4) had an ear ache and wanted a pain killer. She tried in vain to 

take the lid off the bottle. Seeing her frustration, her Mum explained it as a 

child-proof cap and she’d have to open it for her.  Eyes wide with wonder, the 

little girl asked, ‘How does it know it’s me?’ 

 

SUSAN (age 4) was drinking juice when she got the hiccups. ‘Please don’t give 

me this juice again,’ she said, ‘It makes my teeth cough.’ 

 

 DJ (age 4) stepped onto the bathroom scale and asked, ‘How much do I cost?’ 

 

 MARC (age 4) was engrossed in a young couple that were hugging and kissing in 

a restaurant. Without taking his eyes off them, he asked his dad: 

‘Why is he whispering in her mouth?’ 

 

 CLINTON (age 5) was in his bedroom looking worried. When his Mum asked 

what was troubling him, he replied, ‘I don’t know what’ll happen with this 

bed when I get married. How will my wife fit in it?’ 

 

 JAMES (age 4) was listening to a Bible story.  His dad read : ‘The man named 

Lot was warned to take his wife and flee out of the city, but his wife looked back 

and was turned to salt.’ Concerned, James asked: ‘What happened to the flea?’ 

 

TAMMY (age 4) was with her mother when they met an elderly, rather wrinkled woman 

her Mom knew. Tammy looked at her for a while and then asked, ‘Why doesn’t your 

skin fit your face?’ 

 

The Sermon I think this Mum will never forget. ‘Dear Lord,’ the minister began, 

with arms extended toward heaven and a rapturous look on his upturned face. 

‘Without you, we are but dust…’ 

He would have continued, but at that moment my very obedient daughter who 

was listening, leaned over to me and asked, quite audibly, in her shrill little four 

year old girl voice, ‘Mum, what is butt dust?

 

A second chance to enjoy..


I was browsing through the archives earlier and found this poem by Pam Ayres.  Definitely worth a second read, so her it is, Pam Ayres’s ode to chesticles:

Oh, I Wish I’d Looked After Me Tits
By Pam Ayres

Oh, I wish I’d looked after me dear old knockers,
Not flashed them to boys behind the school lockers,
Or let them get fondled by randy old dockers,
Oh, I wish I’d looked after me tits.

‘Cos now I’m much older and gravity’s winning.
It’s Nature’s revenge for all that sinning,
And those dirty memories are rapidly dimming,
Oh, I wish I’d looked after me tits

‘Cos tits can be such troublesome things
When they no longer bounce, but dangle and swing.
And although they go well with my Bingo wings,
I wish I’d looked after me tits.

When they’re both long enough to tie up in a bow,
When it’s not the sweet chariot that swings low,
When they’re less of a friend and more of a foe,
Then I wish I’d looked after me tits.

When I was young I got whistles and hoots,
From the men on the site to the men in the suits,
Now me nipples get stuck in the zips on me boots,
Oh, I wish I’d looked after me tits.

When I was younger I rode bikes and scooters,
Cruising around with my favourite suitors.
Now the wheels get entangled with my dangling hooters,
I wish I’d looked after me tits.

When they follow behind and get trapped in the door,
When they’re less in the air and more near the floor,
When people see less of them rather than more,
Oh, I wish I’d looked after me tits.