nothing much going on

Back at work today, bleurgh. Busy, busy, busy, boring. We're expecting a friend in a minute, so this pitiful offering will be us for tonight, probably. Catch you later!

a slug...

I thought I would share with the world that for the past few days I have been sharing my shower with a slug. Fortunately Mrs McMuffin doesn't use the shower. I have taken a live and let live approach to it, but we have friends coming to stay at the weekend and now it must go. I just want to take this opportunity to thank the slug for sharing those shower moments with me, and I wish it well in its new life in the sewers.

it has been a while...

Well, it has been a while since I last posted properly...I thought it was about time I said something before everyone began to wonder if Mr and Mrs McMuffin were no more. I don't really have that much to say. I have had a busy few weeks. A period of unemployment, a new job, a new business...hopefully, still worrying about whether I am ever going to get my MSc dissertation done, but still planning my doctorate. How weird is that? Seeing therapy clients who don't appreciate how wonderful I am and keep missing sessions. I am sure it has nothing to do with how preoccupied I am at the moment! I did my first training day the other day with [I can't for the life of me remember her cake name, but she knows who she is!]. That last sentence took five minutes to write by the way. We worked together really well, and to think I didn't like her that much when I first met her, and I am sure the feeling was mutual. Got excellent feedback from the participants. Met with another organisation a couple of weeks ago and we have agreed another six days training, but sort of on the understanding that I do the training myself. Oh, well...

[I really need to start another paragraph here] The new job is a bit dull and, dare I say it, beneath me, but it does offer me the opportunity to sharpen my skills! It does mean that I only have to work four days a week and that means that I will be more free to see clients and to do my dissertation, or at least that is the plan. I can't start my dissertation until the room of shame has been completely redecorated, and that is now underway. The lovely Slink has managed to leave his mark on the room by shitting on the bare floorboards. Unfortunately we didn't notice until it had dried hard and now it is a real bugger to shift, even with spray bleach.

On a much more personal front, my brother has narrowly missed going to jail. He beat up his ex-wife's new boyfriend, and was charged with ABH and a whole series of other offences. He has finally admitted the ABH and will be sentenced later this month. His solicitor doesn't think he will be imprisoned but is more likely to get a community sentence. It is all very sad. I come from a family where ABH could be the way to go for most of us, but fortunately we have managed to avoid it. He has also been unemployed since January, waiting to go to jail. What kind of life is that?

My other brother, the one we used to call 'the psycho' has surprised us all by getting into education. He has told Mrs Muffin that she was his inspiration! This is a man who was thrown out of the army because he got so drunk that he thought he was a dog and tried to bite an officer. His dissertation won a well known [that's code for I can't remember what it is called] academic prize for excellence, and he is now planning his doctorate. How did that happen?

Must go now, time to eat and watch Cypher, which I am hoping will be brilliant. It is by the same fella who made Cube.

another specific fear

I found myself thinking about that slug yesterday and wondering what would happen to it in the sewer. Would it eventually mutate into some kind of flesh eating monster, then mate with a crocodile, have little flesh eating baby monsters that would struggle out of the sewers using their tiny little legs to heave themselves over the rim of the toilet bowl into our bathroom. Next time I have a shower will they be watching? Will they pounce when I am at my most vulnerable, naked and covered in soap. I will be their first victim, but there will be many more to come. Soon the whole world will know of the mutated flesh eating slugadiles.

I like to think of myself as an extremely rational person with the capacity for clear thinking, but I can still manage to scare myself a little with ideas like this. This is how I am able to still enjoy horror stories or movies, even though I have experienced enough of life to know that vampires don't exist and werewolves don't exist and certainly there is no such thing as a slugadile. I think maybe I have read too many stories and seen too many movies where the threat is discovered for the time only after it has eaten its first victim. It makes sense to me that one day I could be that FIRST VICTIM. The first person to have the blood drained from their body by a vampire one dark night as I walk home from my girlfriend's house. [This was a very specific fear about 20 years ago. I used to have to walk a couple of miles home from her house and I used to get to thinking about what could jump out at me on the way. I think this is when I began to devise the first victim theory] I could be the first person to be found with his throat slashed by a werewolf on Blackheath Common. Now that is a scary place, even in the sunlight. It just seems like too much open space in a city like London, and then you find out that it has been built on the graves of victims of the Black Death. The only building on the common is a church, where I am sure they must carry out daily exorcisms to rid the place of spirits bent on revenge against the living. How else can you explain the fact that the road collapsed a few months ago. I don't think we have heard the truth about this yet but I have an idea that some poor soul out for their daily jog around the common became the first victim and he was dragged screaming by some unspeakable through the hole in the road down into the bowels of hell, and there they have remained, their eyes picked at by blackbirds and their flesh eaten by a horde of slugadiles for eternity.

And that is just the monsters...don't get me started on people.

eh!

I am trying to make the site look nicer and have messed it up a bit. Normal service will resume as soon as I can work out what I have done to it.

that was the week...

...that was. So here I am again on a Saturday morning, cleaning and tidying, thankful I was so thorough last week. This week has brought sickness, slug revelations, and this very morning a highly amusing yet very personal revelation from Mr McMuffin which will never be shared. He's blushing right now.

You may have gathered that I have become a complete homebody and really resent going out. Today we have a McMuffin brother visiting with his brood, then I am scheduled for the airport run, then we have to go to a party. This is a party to celebrate friends of Mr Mc's first anniversary of 'becoming parents'. So the poor sprog doesn't get a dedicated birthday party, narcissictic or what? I have an ambivalent relationship with these people, hard as I have tried, I just don't like her. He is lovely, and voted most shaggable by a selection of gay and straight friends, and people like her, but I'm just not very keen.

I'm really bad at keeping a neutral face which is a distinct handicap in my line of work, but I shall be practising all day. I am getting worked up already about the right way to say hello, enthusiastic and warm would be good, but please God, don't let them greet me and expect a kiss.

I've said this before, but when did we become a nation of kissers? It was bad enough when air kissing was de rigeur, then we had to make contact. Now people are going for the double or triple kiss. What was wrong with shaking hands? That was great, as women generally didn't, so I could get away with absolutely no physical contact which suited me. What will be next, tongues and a quick grope?

i was wrong and right

I was wrong about the woman I didn't like, she was very sweet last night, and I think I mistook insecurity for arrogance.

I was right about the touchy feely stuff though, two kisses are now compulsory, yuk.

more bugs...

...in the database I'm training on at the moment, and in the house. I forgot to mention that I shared my bed with a tiny slug on Saturday morning. They're like bloody buses in this house. It wasn't even the same slug that had been showering with Mr McMuffin, it was a completely new one that hopped a lift on Slinky and dropped off when Slinky reached our bed. It was not nice at all waking up to a tiny little slug lying next to me. I don't think it's very nice being so damn attractive to slugs. No complaints from me about changing the bedding.

Seeing Dutch friend was lovely, and we now have a Dutch version of Monopoly with no translation into English, so am looking forward to playing a game I normally despise, and lying to Mr McMuffin about what the cards say!

Mr McMuffin may tell you about our shock on seeing his nephew on Saturday, I shan't spoil his tale, but DNA testing might be in order.

she's right...

I do have to share this with the world. One of my brothers brought two of his children to see us on Saturday. I haven't seen the kids for a couple of years. As you might imagine we are not a particularly close family for all sorts of reasons. Anyway, we had a very pleasant time together, but I was shocked to discover that his 5 years old son is the spitting image of one of my other brothers, and also looks like my other brother's daughter. My two brothers have spent most of their life in competition with each other. They even moved to the same town as adults so that they could carry this on. I know that they have shagged each others girlfriends and wives over the years, and I can only assume that this little boy is the fruit of one such tryst. The most amazing thing is that no one in my family has ever mentioned how this boy does not look like his dad, but like his brother. There was some debate when his oldest daughter was born about who the father was, and I suppose it doesn't matter so long as the gene go on, but this one was a complete surprise to me...

Ah, families...where would we be without them?

do you remember...

Showaddywaddy? I have just downloaded their greatest hits from one of those wonderful free sites, and it has sent me back to when I was 16 or 17 years old. I used to love Showaddywaddy, and I could never imagine a time when I wouldn't love them or have all their albums. Alas, that time did come and I haven't thought about them for years. Listening to them now, I am thinking about starting up a campaign to bring back Showaddywaddy, if for no other reason than they have a great name. I love saying Showaddywaddy. It just tastes of rock and roll! If you want to have a good time then search out Showaddywaddy now.

On a more analytical note, I suppose that I was just like the children today who don't realise that their idols are covering old songs. However, I must add that Showaddywaddy also wrote some of their own songs!

cakes, buns, pastries and all sweet things...

Thanks to David Teflsmiler for his suggestions, Dutch friend will now be know as Ms Stroopwaffel. I think the time has come for a 'what's on sale in the bakery today' column before I forget who all the cakeys are. Let's think:

Mr and Mrs Carrot Cake-she has been a friend since we were seven, and we grew up down the same street. He is just lovely. Mr McMuffin is Mrs Carrot Cake's bitch since Rome.

Single Cookie-sister of Mrs Carrot Cake, and ex flatmate of:

Gypsy Tart-my younger sister, and partner of:

Rock Cake-extreme sport fan (water based) and friend to us all for the last 19 years or so.

Victoria Sponge-Mr McMuffin made her our friend (twisted her arm and stuff), and she worked with me and

Ms Ginger Cake-my bestest colleague and good friend, now big chums with Mr McMuffin surprisingly.

Mr and Mrs Profiterole-good chums from my biking days, and Mr McMuffin loves them too.

These are the main cast of characters, but I'm sure I've forgotten someone, and there are some who don't have names yet. If you fancy a cake name, let me know what it is and we'll try to include it. Big Sis likes Lemon Meringue, but she may change her mind if she ever reads the blog. Night night.

all hail

I finished early today, and since I was the most senior person on the course (me haha) the others looked to me for guidance. 'Go home' I said. I followed my own example and visited my parents. They had a lovely gift for Mr McMuffin which I've staunchly refused to take home for months on the basis that he is a git who does not visit my (comparatively very OK) family, but I cracked.

I also got caught in the giant hailstone downpour, it was fantastic.

what's wrong?

We've heard from a couple of people that there are problems with the layout. Can you tell us what they are as there's nothing visible at this end, apart from the bugs at the bottom of the page. It might help to let us know what browser you use, as windows based stuff sometimes does funny things (and we want to mock the non Mac users out there).

Cheers.

gadzooks...

I think I see what the problem is with the site layout. Steve, I think you wos being a bit sneaky when you said that you were going to redesign your site, and you liked the way ours looked. Thought you were sincere until I realised what was going on. Not sure how to fix things, or even why some people can't read any posts, but there is a lesson to be learned here. I think it's been said to me before and it's worth repeating, DON'T TOUCH THAT!

fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck

Oops. Can't do anything tonight. Got to go to bed. Will be back at it tomorrow though. I guess it will give me something to do over the weekend. If we disappear, please remember us fondly. Remember the good times. We've had a few laughs...

it has begun...

I've spent most of this lovely day working on my redesign of our site. I keep forgetting how long some of this stuff takes. At least I have made a start. I think it is beginning to look pretty good. What do you think?

a redesign...

Nearly finished the redesign of the site, and I think it looks pretty good. My thoughts have now turned to redesigning myself. I am considering giving up smoking. Mrs McMuffin's sister gave up smoking a year ago after some very expensive hypnotherapy. It certainly seems to have been worth the money for her. I have a few reservations about hypnotherapy. I don't fancy the idea of going to see someone for help with giving up the dreaded weed only to find that through some freak hypnotherapy accident I find myself reliving past lives. My real fear is that I would get stuck there. I cannot imagine how I would be able to go about my usual business every day thinking that I was Marie Antoinnette.

i just don't believe it...

After all my hard work, it still isn't right. One minute everything seemed fine then I turned my back for a second and it rearranged itself. I can't be bothered spending anymore time on it today, but will sort it out tomorrow.

who did that?

It was me snipping little bits of code to mess with him! Actually, it wasn't, my work would be a little less subtle. I haven't got used to the new look yet, and I don't like it all, but Mr McMuffin will have his way. He's actually looking over my shoulder as I type, which is intensely annoying, go away!

He's gone now. I am really tired, but in a good way. I have been a busy little bee. By day I am a mild mannered gardener, by night I have been hanging out with chums. The best bit is there are two days left. I want to work a three day week.

today is the day...

I have managed to spend the last year or so procrastinating about clearing the room of shame, as Mrs McMuffin likes to call it, but I have now cleared it of all the rubbish, and over the next couple of days we are going to decorate it. I got up nice and early this morning to begin the work, but noticed that there was still one or two things to do to the redesign of our blog. It is now 9.10am and I have just made a cup of coffee and am smoking my last fag before I go to the bathroom to get washed and dressed. Then I will start on the room. Mrs McMuffin feels no guilt and is soundly sleeping upstairs. The poor soul has been working her little socks off over the last couple of days helping her sister sort out her garden for the summer. It is all a bit sad that the garden needed so much effort because we used to live in that house and the garden was lovely. Mrs McMuffin transformed it over a couple of years, in fact she really transformed it over a long weekend a few years ago. We spent many a happy hour sitting in that garden.

I brought home files from work this weekend. My plan was to use yesterday to write a report, but I got the files out to start work and realised that the blog just wasn't right and needed a little bit more work. Needless to say, I didn't write the report.

I have to stop now because the longer I write the less of the room gets done. Trust me, I am a psychotherapist and I understand how these things work.

does my bum look big in this...

Testing...testing...123. I would appreciate a little help from all you lovely people. This is a screen shot of what the site looks like to me. I use Safari and I have tested it with Internet Explorer and Netscape, and, apart from the clumsy rendering of IE and Netscape, it looks the same in all three browsers. Is this what you see? Any comments are welcome. Thanks.

By the way, the photos really are of us, including one of us being married, all heavily disguised, of course. I have reworked our 'about us' page too. That now has no words, just more pictures of us and some of the important people and things in our life.

Mrs McMuffin likes the new design but is not very keen on the photos that I have chosen of her. Ah well, I say to her, this is LIFE and this is ART...I don't usually get to say much more before she starts hitting me. One day I will finish that thought...

happy easter

I just have to share this with everyone. Hope you are all having a lovely Easter.

world turned upside down

Every time I look at our site it's different. What on earth is going on now? Mr McMuffin appears to have left home in despair, or is possibly visiting B&Q for room of shame paint. I hope it's that. I hope he's not wandering the streets of London in an alcoholic haze in filthy clothes, begging for money for his next bottle of meths with a little sign saying ' I used to have a blog which worked'.

he's back and sober

Mr McMuffin returned from B&Q, he wasn't found trying to sell his body for booze. He did his usual home improvement trick though, which is to remember that he has to go out and buy something else leaving me, Gypsy Tart and another friend (no cake name yet, perhaps Ms Apple Crumble?) painting the room of shame. Ms Ginger Cake then turned up and helped for a bit. It got a bit chaotic as the room is small (about 10' by 10') so we were all tripping over each other.

Mr McMuffin wants everything in it to be an off white colour, so we all went snow blind too. There's a bit more to be done and then the fun begins, i love shopping for rugs and bookcases, and I think we've got some IKEA vouchers left. Yippee!

sos (literally)

As you can see, we can come up with no other explanation for the sorry state of the blog other than demonic posession. While we are trying to locate a Mac exorcist ( Steve, this is the Mac problem that no one talks about) we are wondering how to stop the changes from taking place. Mr McMuffin has a theory that the blog only changes when it is not being observed and would like people to organise themselves into blogwatching shifts, he thinks four hours at a time would be fair, and will watch it until midnight. Any takers for the small hours?

I think this is a very bad idea. What if you were all alone when the demon made the changes? Who would be there to protect you and throw holy water at the screen? In addition, if nothing happened it would be about as exciting as watching paint dry, and God knows I've seen about as much as I can handle of that this weekend.

is that it?

I think I may have a working blog again. I realised that if I mess too much with stuff I don't understand then all sorts of bad things happen. Really I think I learnt this lesson a long time ago, which why I no longer try to perform open heart surgery on my little brother. When I was a kid, so my parents tell me, they were scared to leave me alone for more than a few minutes with any electrical goods because I would take them apart to see how they worked. Apparently, we got through four radios and two TVs in the space of a couple of years. I just remember being interested in how things worked. The old TVs were just too tempting. All those rows of glowing tubes like straight out of an episode of Star Trek. How could anyone resist that? I am amazed that I didn't kill myself, although I do remember getting the odd electrical shock. But I always reckoned that the occasional heart-stopping moment was a price worth paying for the advancement of human knowledge.

Things haven't changed much. It's just that my toys have got more sophisticated. I don't think I mentioned my mishap with the electric screwdriver. The screwdriver had a little wire clip on the top of the handle, and during a moment of madness I decided to take the clip off to see what it was holding in place. Without any warning, as soon as I removed the clip, the whole thing fell apart in my hands. Scattered across the floor was hundreds of bits, little springs and cogs and other things that were a complete mystery to me. I took one look and realised that I could never put it back together again. I scooped up the lot and threw it in the bin. Eventually, I had to admit to Mrs McMuffin what I had done. I begged her forgiveness and promised never to do it again. In future, I swore, I would leave alone all things I don't understand. I would not tinker. Unfortunately, as I am a bit dog like in some respects, I quickly forgot all about my adventure with the screwdriver, and I never did let my many other failures trouble me, which I guess is how we have come to this sorry state. Those lovely people at Typepad have devised the perfect blogging software, and I just had to tinker. Although, it must be said, I hold them partially responsible for the mess I am in. Surely, they should have taken up references or something before allowing me to have access to all that customising potential?

the exorcist performed by bunnies

I know it is a bit late for the Easter bunny, but this is special. The Exorcist performed in 30 seconds by bunnies. I can't remember where I got it from.

hurrah!

I am at work looking at our site through the lens of IE5.5 and it looks great. I see a glorious three column site with everything in the right place. I am overjoyed. Ooer, I am coming over all funny. I think I need to lie down in a darkened room for a little bit. I will celebrate at lunch time by having peanut butter sandwiches with the crusts cut off. Must get back to work before I am spotted slacking.

hurrah I bloody hope

Please let this be the end of Mr McMuffin's obsession. I know he's been doing stuff over the last few days, but it does seem as if he's in front of the blog, fiddling with it every time I look. He has been insufferable and continues to be. As I type he is droning on about a small child he saw today with a false eye, while that is interesting in itself, will the man not leave me alone with the machine? I'm not the one who allowed evil spirits into it, so I don't need to be guarded. Oh God! he's now talking about Powerbooks, will he not stop? I am reaching for the blunt instrument right now. He's now told me that I bore him and has wandered off. Rejoice!

I like a lot about this blog, but I still don't like the photos. I can't bear the one of my face which has been so blurred that my nostril looks as if potholers should investigate. Call me vain, I don't care. I think that if even a small bit of me is shown to the world, it should be a good bit, and that isn't. Having said that I have no idea what I consider my good bits to be. Possibly my legs, or ears. I know, my hands. I have very beautiful hands. No one notices them (which is as it should be or they would get jealous and chop them off) but they are lovely. Nails aren't great though, can't be bothered.

See what's happened? I have become completely insecure about my looks. Please don't do this to yourselves, it is agony. I do admire people who put photos of themselves up (usually boys) for their 'take me or leave me' approach, but I have been successfully programmed with female insecurity. Despite my parents' best efforts and feminism, I just want to look pretty.

oh, my god!

I tried the Death Clock thing. Imagine my surprise to find that I had been dead for some weeks. I must admit that this might help to explain the slight lethargy that I have been feeling recently. It seems a shame that I have finally found a way to make myself very, very rich, only to discover that I am dead. Mrs McMuffin was a little surprised too, although not as surprised as I had expected.

such a boy...

Apologies for being such a boy, but I couldn't help myself. Steve and TEFL Smiler have put up screen shots of their desktops so I just had to do the same. I am sure Steve will have a laugh at the irony of my wallpaper, but it really is the nicest one that I have found so far. It is very calming. David, notice the lovely clear background to the dock. I think that's enough boy stuff for now.

when cheesy bugs go bad

Just had to show you this lovely picture of a cousin of the cheesy bugs. Robert Gayle from A Welsh View sent it to Mrs McMuffin, who is a gibbering wreck in the corner of the room. I'm not sure she is going to be able to go to work today.

our own 'you'

We took up Steve's challenge, and this is our very own 'you'. I must say they bear an uncanny resemblance to us.

i skive

Haha I am being bad. Mr McMuffin is painting the room of shame while I 'tidy up a bit'. He's also made some cute pictures of us, and seems to be a bit obsessed with putting images of us around the blog. Perhaps he's hoping it will prevent the blogdemon from returning. I like my 'cats arse' mouthbut am a bit shocked that Mr McMuffin sees me this way, surely I smile a bit more at him. He actually does look that dour in a kind of Oliver Platt/Robert the Bruce (from Braveheart) way.

Anyway, enough of the superficial...Sorry about that, lost my way for a while, of course there can never be enough of the superficial. Anyway, must go back to work, or at least wipe a few sides down.

a cartoon...

I thought that it was about time I showed you some of my cartoons. I used to do a lot of these when I had fantasies of becoming a freelance illustrator. I did this one a while ago as part of a series playing around with the idea of collective nouns. For those who are interested I used ordinary car spray paints and stencils. Unfortunately, this technique does not scan easily. Let me know what you think?

trackback...wots that then?

A little question for all you seasoned Typepad bloggers. What does trackback do? I can't see much difference between it and the permalink. This has bothered me for a while, but I thought I would eventually work it out. I have to admit it has me beat.

childhood memories...

Steve has got me thinking. I too had some idea when we started this blog that we too would use the opportunity to talk about our experiences growing up, but the day to day stuff and all the trivia seems to take over. In many ways that is so much more fun. I suppose it is easier to write about cheesy bugs gone bad than what it was like for us as growing up. I guess there is also something in there about the exposure that we would get on internet. When we began to get involved in all this blogging stuff I suppose I had some idea that we would remain anonymous and that this would allow me to say practically anything that I liked. However, the more we blog the more we seem to develop 'virtual friendships' with lots of people who come from all over the world, and while it is unlikely that we will ever meet any of these people, although I now wouldn't rule out that possibility at some point in the future, the usual stuff seems to take over. I have a particular way of being in the world, and rarely do I talk to people about the things that are important to me. I am trying to say that the opinion of these people, and, yes, you are one of these people, hold of me, means a lot to me. At one level this all seems a bit sad...Much as Mrs McMuffin just wants to be pretty, I just want people to like me, which makes it kind of difficult to stray from the superficial.

to know know know him...

...is to fight with him over the Mac. Perhaps we need to consider getting another machine, but I don't want to spend lots of money on it, and I know he wants a Powerbook because he emailed Mr McMuffin Junior's best friend to tell him so. Well the friend just wanted to know when our birthdays were, but Mr McMuffin seized the opportunity to get his request in at the same time. Considering that he got the ipod for his Christmas and every birthday since present, I'm not sure how to rationalise such an expense. Is it a necessity? Will it stop the competition for the seat in front of the Mac? I'm now worried that the room of shame is being decorated so that he can hide it away and claim that he is working on his dissertation.

On an entirely different subject, we spoke to the Profiteroles tonight and they seem to have some strange symtoms which consist of headaches and confusion. Mr Profiterole considered stress related illness, early onset dementia and brain tumours etc until Mrs Profiterole came down with the same symptoms a day later, and she's not that suggestible or sympathetic. They haven't been able to see the GP yet, and apart form these symptoms and being unable to do more than one task at one time (driving AND talking are out)
have no idea what it could be. Other than this, they feel healthy. They've even tested the house for carbon monoxide as a precaution. These are not mad people or hypochondriacs. I've never heard of such a thing, but am a bit worried so am going to google a bit.

i am not a doctor

I can't find anything to assist the poor Profiteroles. NHS direct didn't give me anything, or a search on headaches and confusion. However I can confirm that my doctor successfully diagnosed migraine in me (common, although I've had one classic attack, for any snobs reading this) and I can be treated for menstrual migraine.

Why didn't my GP tell me all those years ago? I wouldn't have had to suffer the half skull hell with vomiting and intolerance of light and sound that have plagued me for more years than I care to recount. Is is because it's just a 'woman's thing?' and a little bit suspect as you can't actually see it? Well actually you can see it, when I vomit over whatever gets in my way. I astounded a coworker one night when I was too sick to drive home and he kindly gave me a lift, by vomiting all over his car door. I have also vomited into a lunchbox on a train and a plastic paper wallet on the tube. I think my white sweaty face, inability to stand or hold a conversation and passing out rather give the game away too.

Well I'll just have to call myself 'Me-Me' McMuffin again, and remind myself that this started as concern for friends, not a rant against the male dominated medical model.

Thanks for your comments about Mr McMuffin's thoughts about blogging and trackbacks. I'm sure he'll make good use of your explanations. I have tried to understand them, but I felt a bit like the girl in the L'Oreal ad when the science goes whooshing right over her head. I know this stuff can't be hard, but I can't really work up an interest. It's a bit like when I had a motorbike. I loved riding it, but really couldn't bear getting grease on my hands, or fixing it. Obviously I did when I couldn't persuade my then boyfriend to do so, but I hated every second. I think there are some parallels here!

The sad thing is I really wanted to be one of the many women who can strip and rebuild an engine in an afternoon (took me weeks, and I was closely supervised) and be a computer expert. I just have to accept that interest and learning makes competence, and I have neither.

feelings...

Some more cartoons. This is a series I did around the idea of Feelings, long before I ever decided to become a Psychotherapist. The last cartoon is from a series I did on Social Work. Flexability is a dirty word in our house. In Social Work, it usually means a willingness to do anything and have anything done to you. Boundaries and values go out of the window in the name of flexability. Again, I have used car spray paints and stencils. It is really hard to get decent scans of the original fade of the spray, or even the colours for that matter. Click on them for the bigger picture.

very excited...

I am in the middle of giving the room of shame another coat of paint, but thought I would tell you about a musical find. I'm sure I am probably the last person to have heard of Everlast. This is the best hip hop/rock fusion that I have heard. Even the rapping stuff sounds good. Coming from white rock boy that is high praise indeed.

Just found out that he used to be the front man for House of Pain, but I will not hold that against him.

aliens abroad...

Found this great site for all things alien. These people really believe that they have been abducted by aliens, and they have a survey to prove it. This is a great photo though, one of those iconic images from my childhood. As a child I was convinced that aliens visited the earth, and my father was into the Erich Von Daniken books. We used to debate for hours whether the Aztec and Incas where the product of some kind of alien intervention. Ah, those were the days...

so sorry

We live in the sunny south. It's warm here, haha.

childhood memories...part 1

When I was a child we often had porridge for breakfast. Being Scottish, we were obliged to eat porridge, but I don't think I have eaten it since I left home 20 odd years ago. However, one of my fondest memories of being a child involved eating porridge. My father, for some reason, was a great admirer of Ho Chi Minh. I am still a little unclear about what it was he admired, but certainly Ho's capacity to endure the long march was one of the reasons. We would be served bowls of steaming porridge. It was torture waiting for it to cool down. My father devised a cunning plan, he would encourage us to chant "Ho Ho Ho Chi Minh" over our porridge. I can still remember the six of us chanting over our bowls of hot porridge. I can't imagine what the neighbours must have made of it all.

[I have had to edit this post because Mrs McMuffin, the Grammar God, made me correct my grammar]

childhood memories...part 2

Another nice memory. In fact, this is my earliest memory. I have a memory of being thrown in the air by my father when I was a baby. I don't think I could have been much more than about 18 months old. In the picture I have in my head, my dad lay on the bed naked throwing me into the air. My mum was standing at the sink. I was laughing and laughing.

how does he find the time?

I am a little awed by Mr McMuffin's ability to multitask. He seems to have spent all day in front of the Mac by the amount of posting and commenting he has done, yet I know he's also cleaned the house-and not done a bad job.

I have been spending more time in the room of shame. Another coat of paint on the radiator and the floor is all thet's needed. It's a relief as I don't think we've ever taken so long to get anything done. I have also mown the grass and dug up about thirty more dandelions.

I have a theory that should some disaster befall the planet, dandelions AND cockroaches will survive. I'm not sure that I would want to, but for those determined to live, it's nice that you can have some greens with your roasted roaches.

Dandelions really piss me off. Two years ago I dug up the 'lawn' and removed every trace of nettle, couch grass and dandelion before seeding the whole thing. Now they're everywhere. Gardening for me is a bit like cleaning in that I have the ability to live with nastiness, but once I start to sort it out find it hard to stop. I had to come in today before I dug the grass up again and started over.

I had a bit of a shock at work yesterday, when I found that I had loads of annual leave to carry forward, and I get an extra three days too. That's without all the time off in lieu I have accrued. I may become a lady of leisure, and the house of shame may begin to realise it's potential.

childhood memories...part 3

Inspired by Steve, Kirsty and Mr McMuffin, here is a childhood memory. We went to Wales every year to stay with our Mamgus (South Welsh Grandmothers) and we would usually combine this with a seaside holiday. I think that this pic is from a holiday on Amroth, where Gypsy Tart and I made friends with some girls from Peterborough. I thought that this was a very exotic location as I'd never heard of it. It impressed me more than if they had told me that they had travelled from Peru, as I knew where that was.

I think I had grown up enough not to smash all the periwinkles and barnacles that I saw. My parents thought I was going to become a serial killer until they realised that it was all in the name of science, I just wanted to see what lived inside those things. We got a lot of cliff climbing done on this holiday, and in the style of children of our generation everywhere tucked our dresses into our big, big, pants so that they didn't get caught on anything. We also wore fabulous home made bikinis, which we adored. Gypsy Tart and I always ended up wearing very similar clothes, and our matching bikinis illustrated this perfectly.

My Big Sis was always nice on these holidays which made a nice change from her usual wish to emotionally and physically abuse me. I couldn't help raining on her parade by being born. She was nicer to Gypsy Tart as she'd decided at that point that my parents might keep reproducing even if she managed to kill me off. She is a good sister to me now, which surprises me given our early history.

look who we found...

Remember Wesley Crusher the honorary Ensign from Star Trek: The Next Generation? The young boy genius forever waiting for puberty to happen. Well, he has gone and grown up, and become a geeky blogger into the bargain. Seems like a very nice young man. We found his site a few months ago, before we started blogging ourselves, and then completely forgot about him. This is not an unusual occurrence for Wil Wheaton. He seems to have had two goes at being a big star. He was the lovely boy in Stand By Me, and then he had his big role in Star Trek. After each outing, he is quickly forgotten. He will be pleased to know, I am sure, that we haven't forgotten him, or, it has to be said, forgiven him, for some truly dreadful performances in Star Trek.

morality...

Mrs McMuffin has been on at me to do this morality survey for days nows. It takes about 10 or 15 minutes and I just couldn't be bothered. I finally bowed to the pressure last night, and it turns out that I am a pretty nice chap. Looks a lot more like a personality test than a survey of morality, but hey, who cares. I am not too sure about my leanings towards being disagreeable, I think this is supposed to mean that I argue a lot rather than I am mean, or at least I hope so.

the room of shame...

We are nearly finished the room of shame. Today we will give it the final touches of paint before we head off to IKEA to buy some furniture and to have lunch. We love lunching at IKEA! Swedish meatballs and chips are food from heaven. I may have got a little bit carried away with the room's colour scheme. The entire room, walls, ceiling, skirting boards, floor boards and door have all been painted in a slightly off white, which B&Q like to call Antique White. It is slightly disorientating standing in the room. Have I gone too far, I wonder. I have suggested to Mrs McMuffin that we tell people that we take our computing seriously and have decided to create a sterile environment for our Mac. The room will be complete when our white Mac is sitting on the white table that we got some time ago. Mrs McMuffin has been very easy going about it all. I wonder if she is just waiting for me to realise my mistake and suggest that we paint it a different colour. Well, if that's her game then she will have a long wait. I rather go out of my mind in the White Room than do any more painting. I might post a picture of it later. Although how the flash on our camera will react against the whiteness of the room is anyone's guess.