And just what I needed.
He's now in the tortoise cage shouting "Yes we can!" at our laggardly inert tortoise.
Friday, January 30, 2009
Obama
And just what I needed.
He's now in the tortoise cage shouting "Yes we can!" at our laggardly inert tortoise.
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Image000.jpg
Good Morning Tortoise Lovers
Deep breath. Last night my beloved, whom I love deeply, grabbed the hibernating tortoise and bunged it into a tub of warm water. not surprisingly, this woke him up. He then had a run around the floor where he did an amazingly huge poo, then spent his time scuttling off to any dark crannies he could find.
Put him in his cage and he headed for the welly and dug himself in and slept.
This morning my dearest darling, once again grabbed him from the welly, but he didn't wake up when she left mih by the food bowl. There's only one thing that can happen. Eventually it'll wake up and think it's been sleepwalking. This is going to be the world's most traumatised tortoise. Amazingly, it's not dead yet.
How on earth did this become a tortoise blog?
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Spot The German
Right here's the run down.
1. Am now Belgian. Well I got an ID Card, but my dearest darling thinks it's a change of nationality and I just don't have the energy to correct her.
2. Why does Duncan Bannatyne tell every new contact on Twitter this:
It goes without saying please don't put anything the papers can use against me on Twitter.
I replied with
Good to point this out. Cool people discuss their mistresses, coke habit, nazi spanking romps on Facebook instead.
I'll let you know if he responds.
3. What's the difference between a hibernating tortoise and one that's just damn lazy?
4. This keeps me going
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
The Tortiose
I think it has to be said that these are not the most exciting of pets.
Personally, I'm looking for more entertainment value, especially as we bought it from the animal world's equivelent to Aldi. And got the bugger a sunbed. We haven't seen the bugger since.
Anyway, if you click through the photo you'll see bad mobile phone photos of a highland terrier in a kilt and a Belgian parking his car, amongst other delights.
Otherwise, I'm having fun with my Belgium Newsfeed Enjoy the best reporting, from the source that journalists respect.
Recycling shit.
Well, I gave up on that clay-drinking business as I had managed to crap enough for the Twat to make our own dry-stone wall, although I didn't go as far as to scoop the bricks out of the loo as that would have been a little too much. My skin is less red but has enough spots to entertain a child joining them up with a marker for an entire afternoon. I'm feeling very good about our carbon footprint these days.
As for Tortoise. I came back from work yesterday to find him still under the welly, so picked him up, spoke to him, stroked his chin and put him back in the middle of his cage. And that's where he stayed, yawning several times. I didn't realise life as a tortoise was so tiring. About 20 minutes later the Twat joined us and suddenly Tortoise picked up speed and fled back to his welly, except instead of burrowing underneath it, he decided to climb on top of it, walk to the heel end, look over the side and consequently nose-dived off the heel. With its arse in the air we watched as Tortoise scrambled madly with its front legs to find some ground. Finally, the Twat moved the boot a little so that Tortoise had enough space to fit and do his thing.
I'll go and check on him in a bit to see if he has made himself comfortable. The Twat has been reading up on all things tortoise and apparently mine is supposed to be an energetic sort of tortoise. An energetic tortoise? As a friend of mine said to me after lunch "maybe the battery has run out?". Well, Tortoise did come from a very dodgy-looking place so it is possible that his batteries need replacing. I am also supposed to give Tortoise a weekly bath. I don't think so. I'll check with my Tortoise Hotline. Personally, I think he's lonely, but I can't afford a second one, much as I'd like another one. People, think "Zoe's birthday" and "lonely Tortoise", not that I'm suggesting anything at all. As if.
Tortoise doesn't have a name yet.
So far, I've called him 'Mental' quite a lot. Can you do better?
As for Tortoise. I came back from work yesterday to find him still under the welly, so picked him up, spoke to him, stroked his chin and put him back in the middle of his cage. And that's where he stayed, yawning several times. I didn't realise life as a tortoise was so tiring. About 20 minutes later the Twat joined us and suddenly Tortoise picked up speed and fled back to his welly, except instead of burrowing underneath it, he decided to climb on top of it, walk to the heel end, look over the side and consequently nose-dived off the heel. With its arse in the air we watched as Tortoise scrambled madly with its front legs to find some ground. Finally, the Twat moved the boot a little so that Tortoise had enough space to fit and do his thing.
I'll go and check on him in a bit to see if he has made himself comfortable. The Twat has been reading up on all things tortoise and apparently mine is supposed to be an energetic sort of tortoise. An energetic tortoise? As a friend of mine said to me after lunch "maybe the battery has run out?". Well, Tortoise did come from a very dodgy-looking place so it is possible that his batteries need replacing. I am also supposed to give Tortoise a weekly bath. I don't think so. I'll check with my Tortoise Hotline. Personally, I think he's lonely, but I can't afford a second one, much as I'd like another one. People, think "Zoe's birthday" and "lonely Tortoise", not that I'm suggesting anything at all. As if.
Tortoise doesn't have a name yet.
So far, I've called him 'Mental' quite a lot. Can you do better?
Labels: Drinking clay, Tortoise
Monday, January 26, 2009
Tortoise
Mine, mine, mine.
Belgian Waffle, her dying partner and darling snotty boys who are going to empty my house of everything Pokemon - so they rock - came to pick me up yesterday to buy a baby. I wasn't sure who of the family didn't have a cold, but the younger boys were definitely livelier than their mum or dad. And that's a good thing when your mum happens to be Belgian Waffle as even on her death bed she is uber lively and wonderful.
They drove the Twat and I to Animal Express which is somewhere out in the boondocks and looks dodgier than a dodgy thing on a dodgy day. The shop reeked but was full to the seams of everything animal-related, animals and shoppers. It was so packed that at one point Fingers latched on to some woman's leg thinking she was his mum, despite being told otherwise by his dad. I'm so glad that it's not only my kids who would gladly swap parents.
Lashes showed me the way to what I wanted. Tortoises. Loads of them. His dad told me which one to buy. I held it. It peeed on me. It was love at first sight. I was then advised on which box to buy, which lamp, a piece of cuttlefish (calcium and tortoises love it. Apparently.) and some wood-shavings. BW's partner told me how long to keep the light on for, although I have forgotten already, suggested putting a welly boot in the box as they like hiding in things like that and I was ready to rock and roll.
My tortoise is now in the living room and after desperately trying to hide under the welly boot, finally disappeared into it an hour ago. The Twat thinks he's dead already - or simply hiding from me. Tortoise didn't seem too interested in the carton that once housed a bottle of wine. Anyway, I have decided that the Waffle household's phone number is now my Tortoise Hotline. Just in case.
You see, I didn't tell them what happened to my first tortoise.
They drove the Twat and I to Animal Express which is somewhere out in the boondocks and looks dodgier than a dodgy thing on a dodgy day. The shop reeked but was full to the seams of everything animal-related, animals and shoppers. It was so packed that at one point Fingers latched on to some woman's leg thinking she was his mum, despite being told otherwise by his dad. I'm so glad that it's not only my kids who would gladly swap parents.
Lashes showed me the way to what I wanted. Tortoises. Loads of them. His dad told me which one to buy. I held it. It peeed on me. It was love at first sight. I was then advised on which box to buy, which lamp, a piece of cuttlefish (calcium and tortoises love it. Apparently.) and some wood-shavings. BW's partner told me how long to keep the light on for, although I have forgotten already, suggested putting a welly boot in the box as they like hiding in things like that and I was ready to rock and roll.
My tortoise is now in the living room and after desperately trying to hide under the welly boot, finally disappeared into it an hour ago. The Twat thinks he's dead already - or simply hiding from me. Tortoise didn't seem too interested in the carton that once housed a bottle of wine. Anyway, I have decided that the Waffle household's phone number is now my Tortoise Hotline. Just in case.
You see, I didn't tell them what happened to my first tortoise.
Labels: Tortoise
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Crap photo.
Labels: Me by camphone.
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
She has green hair!
Labels: Crap photo by camphone.
Monday, January 19, 2009
The Twat has sold his soul.
Considering that the man has been in this country for seven years, is registered in this country and pays taxes here, I thought that, during his rather long spell of unemployment the least that Belgium could offer the Twat was a real Belgian ID Card. Not a simple Expat one that has to be renewed every five years, but a real one.
Why?
Because this should entitle the Twat to unemployment benefit and all the benefits that come with that. Such as free French or Flemish lessons, free courses in advanced IT and all the rest. This country is all for encouraging people to better their skills so as to be employable, and what better way than that to do it? Every country should have this system. It's fantastic.
So I forced the Twat to trot down to the Maison Communale to see if he could get a green card. Not for the US, for Belgium. He was there for a short 5 minutes, called me and said that all he had to do was sign a piece of paper, go back with a photo and 13 euros. And he did. In three weeks time - well, two, now, the Twat will officially have British/Belgian nationality which will stop him worrying about buying a new passport for his next visit to the UK - whenever that will be.
I love that. The Twat sold his soul for Belgian nationality. HA.
He swears that he'll die an Englishman first.
Why?
Because this should entitle the Twat to unemployment benefit and all the benefits that come with that. Such as free French or Flemish lessons, free courses in advanced IT and all the rest. This country is all for encouraging people to better their skills so as to be employable, and what better way than that to do it? Every country should have this system. It's fantastic.
So I forced the Twat to trot down to the Maison Communale to see if he could get a green card. Not for the US, for Belgium. He was there for a short 5 minutes, called me and said that all he had to do was sign a piece of paper, go back with a photo and 13 euros. And he did. In three weeks time - well, two, now, the Twat will officially have British/Belgian nationality which will stop him worrying about buying a new passport for his next visit to the UK - whenever that will be.
I love that. The Twat sold his soul for Belgian nationality. HA.
He swears that he'll die an Englishman first.
Labels: Twat goes Belgian
Saturday, January 17, 2009
Happy Birthday MBIAT.
Who'da thunk six years ago that this here blog would still be running in 2009? I didn't. Well, to be honest, I didn't really know what I was doing back then to even contemplate what I'd be doing now, but My Boyfriend is a Twat is still up and running, as is the twat, just to keep me amused, if anything else. And annoyed.
It's had one makeover by Gordon as a generous freebie start-up to his web-design company or something. And do note, the colour of this blog is PLUM. Even Gordon will tell you that. Apart from that, I've learnt how to add pictures from Flickr and that's about it. Well, I can muck about with my template a bit, although that is never a good idea, am a bit more competent using html - although that's debatable, and, well, that's it.
I've made and even met many (blogging) friends over the years and they are all still alive, although The Cartoonist ought to start counting his days. I love having new visitors and even if you don't get blogrolled immediately, I do check back on you. Such as Richard, 3limes and many more.
And I was even the winner of 3 Bloggies for Best European Blogger - so someone must like me out there, and a book deal which is out of stock at Amazon but is available directly from me. Just email me. The Serbian edition is coming out soon as well, which is quite exciting. I must brush up on my Serbian so that I can read it myself seeing as I haven't read the English version yet.
So yes, happy birthday blog, you seem to keep some people amused. Probably the posts made by the Twat himself.
My aim is to become as distinguished a blogger as Peter or Mike - but I think I have quite a way to go there.
Let's face it Zoe, you'll never make it.
Oh well, let this little space on the internet enjoy its day - and if anybody can find a favourite post from here - I'd love to know which one and why.
Oh god, please can at least one person reply to that last request.
It's had one makeover by Gordon as a generous freebie start-up to his web-design company or something. And do note, the colour of this blog is PLUM. Even Gordon will tell you that. Apart from that, I've learnt how to add pictures from Flickr and that's about it. Well, I can muck about with my template a bit, although that is never a good idea, am a bit more competent using html - although that's debatable, and, well, that's it.
I've made and even met many (blogging) friends over the years and they are all still alive, although The Cartoonist ought to start counting his days. I love having new visitors and even if you don't get blogrolled immediately, I do check back on you. Such as Richard, 3limes and many more.
And I was even the winner of 3 Bloggies for Best European Blogger - so someone must like me out there, and a book deal which is out of stock at Amazon but is available directly from me. Just email me. The Serbian edition is coming out soon as well, which is quite exciting. I must brush up on my Serbian so that I can read it myself seeing as I haven't read the English version yet.
So yes, happy birthday blog, you seem to keep some people amused. Probably the posts made by the Twat himself.
My aim is to become as distinguished a blogger as Peter or Mike - but I think I have quite a way to go there.
Let's face it Zoe, you'll never make it.
Oh well, let this little space on the internet enjoy its day - and if anybody can find a favourite post from here - I'd love to know which one and why.
Oh god, please can at least one person reply to that last request.
Friday, January 16, 2009
Disabled Access
Anyway, she thought that you would like it.
I'm off in search of a large truckstop for an article. I'm taking pics of the Red Bull Girls - whatever they may be - this evening at the Old Inn. I am hoping to go to Democrats Abroad inauguration do, but it looks like i'll be spending more time photographing a meeting in the Parliament.
My darling beloved's book is almost out in Serbian, the cover looks amazing. No doubt this publication will bring peace to the Balkans.
In the meantime we're catching up with Celebrity Big Brother. They're audioioning for Big Brother and I feel that my dearest beloved should be nominated. Apparantly all you have to do is upload a video to You Tube. The plastic bottles should do it.
Join The Put Zoe in Big Brother Campaign - Obligatory Facebook Group
Thursday, January 15, 2009
The Twat's Quote of the Day.
That idiot of a Twat that I happen to live with decided to back away from me and close himself in Coralie's bedroom as the kids are not here this week.
BOOM! BANG! CRASH!
"Q, what the fuck have you done?"
"Nothing" he said as he opened the door, "but let's see you try and get out of this bedroom," while pulling me in and slamming the door shut.
I turned on the light.
One of the 'crashes' or 'booms' that I heard when the Twat entered and shut the door in Coralie's bedroom happened to be a rather large mirror of hers', and not in its' entirety. A large chunk of it had broken off when the Twat had taken recluse in her room.
"You TWAT! Look what you've done."
"Oh fuck. It was bought second-hand anyway."
"But coralie loved it, and now you have seven years' bad luck because of that."
"WHAT?!? ANOTHER seven years?"
Pffffffft.
BOOM! BANG! CRASH!
"Q, what the fuck have you done?"
"Nothing" he said as he opened the door, "but let's see you try and get out of this bedroom," while pulling me in and slamming the door shut.
I turned on the light.
One of the 'crashes' or 'booms' that I heard when the Twat entered and shut the door in Coralie's bedroom happened to be a rather large mirror of hers', and not in its' entirety. A large chunk of it had broken off when the Twat had taken recluse in her room.
"You TWAT! Look what you've done."
"Oh fuck. It was bought second-hand anyway."
"But coralie loved it, and now you have seven years' bad luck because of that."
"WHAT?!? ANOTHER seven years?"
Pffffffft.
Labels: TQOTD
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
Shopping is not good for you.
On Saturday, a friend who wanted to buy some wardrobes in the Sales asked if I wanted to go too as he remembered that I had mentioned needing something. The idea of getting out of the house was good enough and so we trekked on to those mammoth-size shops near IKEA. My friend disappeared towards the wardrobe section and I decided that testing out beds was fun.
I found an extremely good-quality dressing gown that had 30 euros knocked off it, and despite the fact that it is obviously a bloke's dressing gown, decided to get it as the one that I have is several years old and looks like I've shat on it from the back. I also grabbed a new mattress cover as the one that I have at present is going a manky yellow colour and has definitely seen better days. Probably when it was still white.
My friend measured up some wardrobes and left with a shawl with a little Mickey Mouse motif on it. I'm not sure if it's a good idea to mention that he's 57 (probably more, actually), but I'm sure he'll look very sweet wearing it around his shoulders as he watches TV.
When I got home I was welcomed by the Twat rolling his eyes at the sight of the two large bags and asking me what I got. I proceeded to show him making sure that my two purchases were justified by pointing out that I didn't get the 33 euro loo-roll holder. Impressed by the quality of my new dressing-gown which meant that I had the 'thumbs up' for buying it, I decided that that was the time to tell the Twat that I had also bought a bed. With matching bed-side tables ("why do you need more? We already have 2" - I digress) and a new mattress ("what the fuck for? We already have one."
"We do, but it's 10 years old and I have a bad back. Besides, the total came to less than my old bed - the one that you broke. Completely.")
Hopefully it'll be delivered in time for it's christening on Annual Shag Day.
I found an extremely good-quality dressing gown that had 30 euros knocked off it, and despite the fact that it is obviously a bloke's dressing gown, decided to get it as the one that I have is several years old and looks like I've shat on it from the back. I also grabbed a new mattress cover as the one that I have at present is going a manky yellow colour and has definitely seen better days. Probably when it was still white.
My friend measured up some wardrobes and left with a shawl with a little Mickey Mouse motif on it. I'm not sure if it's a good idea to mention that he's 57 (probably more, actually), but I'm sure he'll look very sweet wearing it around his shoulders as he watches TV.
When I got home I was welcomed by the Twat rolling his eyes at the sight of the two large bags and asking me what I got. I proceeded to show him making sure that my two purchases were justified by pointing out that I didn't get the 33 euro loo-roll holder. Impressed by the quality of my new dressing-gown which meant that I had the 'thumbs up' for buying it, I decided that that was the time to tell the Twat that I had also bought a bed. With matching bed-side tables ("why do you need more? We already have 2" - I digress) and a new mattress ("what the fuck for? We already have one."
"We do, but it's 10 years old and I have a bad back. Besides, the total came to less than my old bed - the one that you broke. Completely.")
Hopefully it'll be delivered in time for it's christening on Annual Shag Day.
Labels: New bed.
Monday, January 12, 2009
Fridays are for having fun.
Last Friday we met up with a couple of friends of ours, had a long, boozy lunch which was followed by sight-seeing and an awful lot of drinking of beer as it was so hideously cold. In hind-sight, I didn't drink much at all during lunch as the blokes were knocking back the wine while I had a couple of glasses and the best part of a litre of San Pelligrino. That made me feel quite a bit better as it made drinking a glass of clay that night much easier on the conscience.
Our friends were slightly worse for the wear and we managed to lose them in a tiny bar where a mate of theirs' was playing. I'm not even sure how we lost them as one minute they were there and the next they weren't. Nobody can lose someone in the Tropa bar, it's so small, but it looks like Q and I have just managed to set a new record.
We looked everywhere for them, stayed on a little longer and then went home in time to get the last tram. Waiting for the tram was horrid though. The night was absolutely freezing - about -12°C, and the coldest night so far. I was so cold that all of a sudden I realised that I was crying from the cold which was a very bizarre experience. My back had also seized up due to the cold and movement was difficult. It took forever to thaw out once in the house but I'm still wondering how on earth we lost our friends. Damn it - I even have something to give them too.
The snow is still fairly thick around these parts which is mad for this country - especially as this is all from one snowfall. Still, it is quite pretty.
Oh, and if anybody sees a blonde woman wandering around with a bloke with a Russian style hat on, do let me know as they shouldn't be here anymore.
Our friends were slightly worse for the wear and we managed to lose them in a tiny bar where a mate of theirs' was playing. I'm not even sure how we lost them as one minute they were there and the next they weren't. Nobody can lose someone in the Tropa bar, it's so small, but it looks like Q and I have just managed to set a new record.
We looked everywhere for them, stayed on a little longer and then went home in time to get the last tram. Waiting for the tram was horrid though. The night was absolutely freezing - about -12°C, and the coldest night so far. I was so cold that all of a sudden I realised that I was crying from the cold which was a very bizarre experience. My back had also seized up due to the cold and movement was difficult. It took forever to thaw out once in the house but I'm still wondering how on earth we lost our friends. Damn it - I even have something to give them too.
The snow is still fairly thick around these parts which is mad for this country - especially as this is all from one snowfall. Still, it is quite pretty.
Oh, and if anybody sees a blonde woman wandering around with a bloke with a Russian style hat on, do let me know as they shouldn't be here anymore.
Labels: Friends
Thursday, January 08, 2009
Getting more than your moneys worth.
When I went to get my hair cut yesterday I saw that the beautician who works downstairs was in the salon too as she obviously didn't have a client to attend to. She is a lovely woman and apparently extremely good at her job aswell, specialising in all sorts of wonderful treatments including relexology which I have heard to be very beneficial. She also paints nails, if you're at all interested.
Anyway, I didn't want to see her. It was freezing cold outside so I entered with streaming eyes and nose, bright red cheeks and hair that was in dire need of love and affection. As I warmed up slowly, my cheeks remained flushed and my four spots stood out dreadfully. I could feel Georgette glancing at the state of my skin from afar, although in all fairness I think I was more aware of the monthly, blotchy horror that takes over.
After Maryline (my headresser) had given me a head massage that was even better than sex, not that we have had sex together, she told me that Georgette was looking at my face while I was having the oddorgasm nap as my head was gently being massaged to a piece of pulp. It sends shivers down your spine, you know. Try it.
The verdict is: my liver.
Georgette was very helpful and said that I should cut out all meat, caffeine, dairy products, chocolate, cigarettes (already done - ha!) and alcohol.
"How long for?"
"At least a year."
Lying infront of the next passing tram suddenly became more appealing than spending the next year living the life of some Tibetan Monk. I love cheese, meat - especially red meat, red wine and the very thought of putting all of that aside only to be replaced by a plate of vegetables followed by fruit three times a day was quickly by-passed. I can live without coffee and eat more vegetables. That's a good start.
I whispered to Maryline as to what to do and she suggested doing what she does: a glass of argile last thing at night and first thing in the morning. Apparently it's very good for detox.
"Argile?"
"Oui."
The word meant something to me at the back of my mind but I couldn't think what, but decided to give it a go anyway as it's so cheap. I bought some in a healthy shop and then the bells rang.
Clay! Argile is that clay stuff that I make mud packs out of for my face - well I used to until I found the stuff ready-made and in a tube. A bit like the Twat's cooking.
I also picked up some of the most disgusting tea-bags in the world that are for "de-tox". The taste of aniseed is far too strong, but I survived two cups of the stuff at work this morning.
I prepared my first glass of clay last night and it went down fine, although I think I put too much in. There is another one awaiting me by my bed, ready to be drunk just before I go shut-eye. If this works it'll be a bloody miracle as I'm tired due to the lack of caffeine today, that tea is foul and I gave away all the green tea that I received from the Chinese Embassy over the years. That is priceless stuff over here and very good for you. But I'll persevere.
Now, a glass of clay, anyone?
Anyway, I didn't want to see her. It was freezing cold outside so I entered with streaming eyes and nose, bright red cheeks and hair that was in dire need of love and affection. As I warmed up slowly, my cheeks remained flushed and my four spots stood out dreadfully. I could feel Georgette glancing at the state of my skin from afar, although in all fairness I think I was more aware of the monthly, blotchy horror that takes over.
After Maryline (my headresser) had given me a head massage that was even better than sex, not that we have had sex together, she told me that Georgette was looking at my face while I was having the odd
The verdict is: my liver.
Georgette was very helpful and said that I should cut out all meat, caffeine, dairy products, chocolate, cigarettes (already done - ha!) and alcohol.
"How long for?"
"At least a year."
Lying infront of the next passing tram suddenly became more appealing than spending the next year living the life of some Tibetan Monk. I love cheese, meat - especially red meat, red wine and the very thought of putting all of that aside only to be replaced by a plate of vegetables followed by fruit three times a day was quickly by-passed. I can live without coffee and eat more vegetables. That's a good start.
I whispered to Maryline as to what to do and she suggested doing what she does: a glass of argile last thing at night and first thing in the morning. Apparently it's very good for detox.
"Argile?"
"Oui."
The word meant something to me at the back of my mind but I couldn't think what, but decided to give it a go anyway as it's so cheap. I bought some in a healthy shop and then the bells rang.
Clay! Argile is that clay stuff that I make mud packs out of for my face - well I used to until I found the stuff ready-made and in a tube. A bit like the Twat's cooking.
I also picked up some of the most disgusting tea-bags in the world that are for "de-tox". The taste of aniseed is far too strong, but I survived two cups of the stuff at work this morning.
I prepared my first glass of clay last night and it went down fine, although I think I put too much in. There is another one awaiting me by my bed, ready to be drunk just before I go shut-eye. If this works it'll be a bloody miracle as I'm tired due to the lack of caffeine today, that tea is foul and I gave away all the green tea that I received from the Chinese Embassy over the years. That is priceless stuff over here and very good for you. But I'll persevere.
Now, a glass of clay, anyone?
Labels: Drinking clay
Wednesday, January 07, 2009
That meme from yonks ago....
The one where you send me an email saying: ”Interview Me”, I respond by emailing you five questions. I get to pick the questions.
You can then answer the questions on your blog.
You should also post these rules along with an offer to interview anyone else who emails you wanting to be interviewed.
So for the newer bloggers who haven't seen this one before, here are the five questions that Mr. Nighttime sent me:
1. The end of the world is one week from today. What is on your to do list?
As in: The World Really, Truly, Is Going To End? Then I would take all my savings out of my bank in this country, (possible from an ATM machine as things stand), go to the UK with my kids and empty my savings there, split the money between the four of us and the kids can do whatever they want with the money that they receive on one condition: we all have to be together (Quarsan included, of course) in a week's time.
With my share I would like to visit the city where I was born, Saigon. Q is obliged to follow me. A short, but sweet trip - I hope.
2. Name one situation in your life that you said "no" to, that you should have said "yes" to.
That has to be further education. One year at a 'posh' Secretarial College simply doesn't cut it. Where was the fun? The drugs? The alcohol? And most of all, decent qualifications? I regret not having got some decent qualifications but now manage to get by with my superior experience. Ho hum.
3. Name one situation in your life that you said "yes" to, that you should have said "no" to.
That's a no-brainer, innit? I'd be a lot better off in life had I said 'no' on 19 June, 1993 (I think - I should check my wedding ring). The father of my children and I could have carried on unmarried thus avoiding a painful and costly divorce. I knew that I didn't want to go ahead with the wedding the morning of The Day, but my parents lived here then and I was terrified of letting them down.
That really was a big mistake.
4. You find out that your kids are planning a big surprise birthday party, but you hate surprise parties. Do you tell them not to do it, or do you fake your own sense of surprise?
In this case, I think I'd leave the country for a while. That way I'd be out of the way and return for the 'surprise' party completely relaxed, with souvenirs for the kids so that everybody is happy. If I could afford it, I'd go somewhere warm so that I come back with a tan, healthy-looking skin and 5 kilos lighter after all the swimming. The break from Q and the kids alone would be worth it.
5. Albert Einstein or Johnny Rotten? Which one would you rather have a conversation with?
Johnny Rotten because, although I believe him to be an intelligent man, has lots of really good gossip, funny stories to tell and a wicked sense of humour. Mr Einstein, on the other hand, has never really appealed to me - and I can't stand moustaches. They are the equivalent of an overgrown lady-garden, if you ask me.
You can then answer the questions on your blog.
You should also post these rules along with an offer to interview anyone else who emails you wanting to be interviewed.
So for the newer bloggers who haven't seen this one before, here are the five questions that Mr. Nighttime sent me:
1. The end of the world is one week from today. What is on your to do list?
As in: The World Really, Truly, Is Going To End? Then I would take all my savings out of my bank in this country, (possible from an ATM machine as things stand), go to the UK with my kids and empty my savings there, split the money between the four of us and the kids can do whatever they want with the money that they receive on one condition: we all have to be together (Quarsan included, of course) in a week's time.
With my share I would like to visit the city where I was born, Saigon. Q is obliged to follow me. A short, but sweet trip - I hope.
2. Name one situation in your life that you said "no" to, that you should have said "yes" to.
That has to be further education. One year at a 'posh' Secretarial College simply doesn't cut it. Where was the fun? The drugs? The alcohol? And most of all, decent qualifications? I regret not having got some decent qualifications but now manage to get by with my superior experience. Ho hum.
3. Name one situation in your life that you said "yes" to, that you should have said "no" to.
That's a no-brainer, innit? I'd be a lot better off in life had I said 'no' on 19 June, 1993 (I think - I should check my wedding ring). The father of my children and I could have carried on unmarried thus avoiding a painful and costly divorce. I knew that I didn't want to go ahead with the wedding the morning of The Day, but my parents lived here then and I was terrified of letting them down.
That really was a big mistake.
4. You find out that your kids are planning a big surprise birthday party, but you hate surprise parties. Do you tell them not to do it, or do you fake your own sense of surprise?
In this case, I think I'd leave the country for a while. That way I'd be out of the way and return for the 'surprise' party completely relaxed, with souvenirs for the kids so that everybody is happy. If I could afford it, I'd go somewhere warm so that I come back with a tan, healthy-looking skin and 5 kilos lighter after all the swimming. The break from Q and the kids alone would be worth it.
5. Albert Einstein or Johnny Rotten? Which one would you rather have a conversation with?
Johnny Rotten because, although I believe him to be an intelligent man, has lots of really good gossip, funny stories to tell and a wicked sense of humour. Mr Einstein, on the other hand, has never really appealed to me - and I can't stand moustaches. They are the equivalent of an overgrown lady-garden, if you ask me.
Labels: Meme
Tuesday, January 06, 2009
Where are the bloody vegetables?
I have mentioned the Twat's dire approach to cooking before, in that apart from his infamous pasta bake which we all love, everything else comes out of either a jar or a packet or is ready-made. So I decided to help.
The first introduction was a vegetable to a vegetable.
"Twat, this is a carrot. It is easily distinguishable by its phallic shape and bright orange colour."
"Owdoo, carrot."
"This is a potato, but you know all about potatoes. These are mange-tout, green and look like squashed pea-pods."
"Owdoo spud. Owdoo mange-tout."
That went fairly well, considering. It wasn't until I showed him 2 chicken legs that he looked worried, as if to say that the vegetables were for fun - but chicken is meat. What should he do with 2 chicken legs. I explained how they should be cooked and gave him a tip for cooking everything together so that he didn't have to deal with more than one pyrex dish and one saucepan, as he tends to forget about things.
And it worked - we started eating meat and veg at last.
But on Saturday, as I entered the kitchen to help the Twat tackle a bit of roast beef and found everything almost ready to be served, something didn't seem to be quite right.
"Q, where are the mushrooms?"
"Oh, I forgot."
"The onion?"
"Oh, I forgot."
"And where the fuck are the beans??"
"Oh I forgot..."
"Get the fuck out of my way."
As the Twat carved up chunks of beef (his carving skills are non-existent) I boiled up a kettle of water, top-and-tailed the beans as fast as possible while stirring the brown stuff that the Twat called Bisto or something.
We ended up with half a carrot each, barely-cooked runner beans, potatoes and roast beef. So to avoid asking where the fuck the vegetables are tonight, I've already prepared them with Todd's divine help. Watching him top-and-tail runner beans 2 at a time was amusing and I certainly wasn't going to show him how to do it quickly - let the boy find out. And he did, remarkably quickly, I'm pleased to say.
This is going so well that one day the Twat will ask me "where the fuck the meat is."
I shall smile sweetly and say:
"In Delhaize."
The first introduction was a vegetable to a vegetable.
"Twat, this is a carrot. It is easily distinguishable by its phallic shape and bright orange colour."
"Owdoo, carrot."
"This is a potato, but you know all about potatoes. These are mange-tout, green and look like squashed pea-pods."
"Owdoo spud. Owdoo mange-tout."
That went fairly well, considering. It wasn't until I showed him 2 chicken legs that he looked worried, as if to say that the vegetables were for fun - but chicken is meat. What should he do with 2 chicken legs. I explained how they should be cooked and gave him a tip for cooking everything together so that he didn't have to deal with more than one pyrex dish and one saucepan, as he tends to forget about things.
And it worked - we started eating meat and veg at last.
But on Saturday, as I entered the kitchen to help the Twat tackle a bit of roast beef and found everything almost ready to be served, something didn't seem to be quite right.
"Q, where are the mushrooms?"
"Oh, I forgot."
"The onion?"
"Oh, I forgot."
"And where the fuck are the beans??"
"Oh I forgot..."
"Get the fuck out of my way."
As the Twat carved up chunks of beef (his carving skills are non-existent) I boiled up a kettle of water, top-and-tailed the beans as fast as possible while stirring the brown stuff that the Twat called Bisto or something.
We ended up with half a carrot each, barely-cooked runner beans, potatoes and roast beef. So to avoid asking where the fuck the vegetables are tonight, I've already prepared them with Todd's divine help. Watching him top-and-tail runner beans 2 at a time was amusing and I certainly wasn't going to show him how to do it quickly - let the boy find out. And he did, remarkably quickly, I'm pleased to say.
This is going so well that one day the Twat will ask me "where the fuck the meat is."
I shall smile sweetly and say:
"In Delhaize."
Labels: cooking
Monday, January 05, 2009
Image012.jpg
Happy New Year, Happy New Year, Happy New Year...
So, it's back to the office for most of Belgium today, apart from those lovely people who work as hairdressers, in supermarkets etc, etc. Even my kids go back to school - my daughters have two weeks of exams for which they have spent their two-week holiday studying for at great length.
But it's not really that that annoys me. I want to go back to work, strangely enough. I love my new job, the people with whom I work and I want to start the new year feeling this positive. That is, until I have to start saying 'Happy New Year' over and over and over again. When is the new year not a new year? Once you have spoken to just about everybody you come into contact with.... so that will be:
- my 3 colleagues (that's 3 x 3 kisses)
- 2 visitors scheduled for today (British visitors who don't kiss - I think)
- whoever else I may bump into who also works in the building (god knows how many kisses that may involve)
- +/- 2 people at my bank (no kissing - I've no idea why they want me there)
- anyone else I may bump into today (+/- 5) (+/- 5 x 3 kisses)
= +/- 15 people, if I'm lucky.
But it never simply stops there,does it?
There is the phone. Each incoming phone call starts with, after the "Best Place In The World To Work (BPITWTW), good morning" will follow with "And a very Happy New Year to you too, Your Majesty" - or whatever. It always does. And after 15 January this does get a bit tiring. At least there's no kissing to be done over the phone. At least, not yet. The future technology scares me in that respect and I may never answer the phone again if you are actually able to kiss down a phone line. And let's face it kids, I'm sure it'll happen one day.
Being So Continental does have its fall-backs. How do you explain that you have run out of kisses when your birthday is only the next month?
I need help on this one.
Now those are the verbal wishes for the new year. And kisses.
Then there are the emails.
Oh, and I'm finally seeing my hairdresser on Tuesday as my fringe is longer than Goldie Hawn's ever was. I look like a fucking lapdog. More kisses and wishes etc despite having texted each other on 1st January. And her assistant. (An extra 2 x 3 kisses.)
When is it right to stop as I'm considering this coming midnight.
But it's not really that that annoys me. I want to go back to work, strangely enough. I love my new job, the people with whom I work and I want to start the new year feeling this positive. That is, until I have to start saying 'Happy New Year' over and over and over again. When is the new year not a new year? Once you have spoken to just about everybody you come into contact with.... so that will be:
- my 3 colleagues (that's 3 x 3 kisses)
- 2 visitors scheduled for today (British visitors who don't kiss - I think)
- whoever else I may bump into who also works in the building (god knows how many kisses that may involve)
- +/- 2 people at my bank (no kissing - I've no idea why they want me there)
- anyone else I may bump into today (+/- 5) (+/- 5 x 3 kisses)
= +/- 15 people, if I'm lucky.
But it never simply stops there,does it?
There is the phone. Each incoming phone call starts with, after the "Best Place In The World To Work (BPITWTW), good morning" will follow with "And a very Happy New Year to you too, Your Majesty" - or whatever. It always does. And after 15 January this does get a bit tiring. At least there's no kissing to be done over the phone. At least, not yet. The future technology scares me in that respect and I may never answer the phone again if you are actually able to kiss down a phone line. And let's face it kids, I'm sure it'll happen one day.
Being So Continental does have its fall-backs. How do you explain that you have run out of kisses when your birthday is only the next month?
I need help on this one.
Now those are the verbal wishes for the new year. And kisses.
Then there are the emails.
Oh, and I'm finally seeing my hairdresser on Tuesday as my fringe is longer than Goldie Hawn's ever was. I look like a fucking lapdog. More kisses and wishes etc despite having texted each other on 1st January. And her assistant. (An extra 2 x 3 kisses.)
When is it right to stop as I'm considering this coming midnight.
Labels: NYE wishes
Friday, January 02, 2009
It's that time of year again.
The beginning of January means one thing to quite a lot of bloggers, even those who won't admit it - of which there are quite a few. And what's that?
The Bloggies.
There are, as usual, several changes. The following three categories have been removed:
- Best American Weblog
- Best Art or Craft Weblog, and sadly,
- Best GLBT Weblog
and replaced by:
- Best Art, Craft or Design Weblog (slight clash there with 'Best-designed Weblog')
- Best Travel Weblog, and
- Best Microblog.
There are several blogs on my blogroll that I'd desperately love to see as a winner - blogs that I have nominated for over the past years. It is no secret that Peter at Naked Blog would love to win the 'Lifetime Achievement Award' so let's try and make it his turn this year as personally, I think he deserves it.
So do get nominating as nominations close on 12 January.
Just think - you could be a winner too, even if you're not a blogger.
- Best American Weblog
- Best Art or Craft Weblog, and sadly,
- Best GLBT Weblog
and replaced by:
- Best Art, Craft or Design Weblog (slight clash there with 'Best-designed Weblog')
- Best Travel Weblog, and
- Best Microblog.
There are several blogs on my blogroll that I'd desperately love to see as a winner - blogs that I have nominated for over the past years. It is no secret that Peter at Naked Blog would love to win the 'Lifetime Achievement Award' so let's try and make it his turn this year as personally, I think he deserves it.
So do get nominating as nominations close on 12 January.
Just think - you could be a winner too, even if you're not a blogger.
Labels: Bloggies 09
Thursday, January 01, 2009
Wishing you all a very...
Very Happy New Year
From the
Twat Mansions
And that hope, peace, love and so much more
will reach you and your families this coming year.
Apart from Vicus, that is. He's been mean to me,
Especially after I sent him a BEAUTIFUL card -
as I do every year.
Zed, Quarsan, Coralie, Tatiana and Todd.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
From the
Twat Mansions
And that hope, peace, love and so much more
will reach you and your families this coming year.
Apart from Vicus, that is. He's been mean to me,
Especially after I sent him a BEAUTIFUL card -
as I do every year.
Zed, Quarsan, Coralie, Tatiana and Todd.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Labels: Xmas