Sigh. I did it again. Managed to go a whole month without blogging once.....
I do have a excuse - it's the silly season! Much too busy doing.......er..........stuff......important stuff. Right.
Yesterday was my first day back at work after the xmas break. I was so bored I was starting to think that serious injury was an attractive option, and contemplating whether hurling myself down the stairs would give me the desired effect. Sad, isn't it? Today was better though - I actually did some work!
Mind you, I didn't really do much with my holidays, either. I was full of plans - all manner of things were going to get done!!! Instead, a dose of the flu led to a lot of sitting on the couch reading a book, and not feeling up to much else. I did do something though, it wasn't all complete laziness!
I did some work on the cuffs for the dress of doom and dispair, and have in fact got one of them finished! Hooray! Now, if you can just imagine the rest of the dress in the brocaded* silk, with beaded guards in the green/teal velveteen........it really is going to take forever. Sigh.
I also cut out a bunch of tabs for the Tent That Never Was (but hopefully someday Will Be), but, fairly true to form for this wretched, wretched tent, haven't been sewn on yet. I've got until April - what do you think my chances are?
*of course, the silk is not actually brocaded. It is, in fact, a print. That's right, a print. But it looks like brocaded silk from a metre away, so who cares?
Hurrah for a southerly change
When I turned on the computer this afternoon, it was 38 degrees outside. The air was so dry it felt like it was burning, and the sky was that strange, flat, almost-grey that you get during bushfires.
Now it's very pleasant outside, with a cool breeze (I hope some of it is blowing into the bedroom). I wish summer would be more like this - hot dry days, and cool nights......although definitely less of the bushfires.
I've been meaning to write stuff about my adventures over the last couple of weeks, but it kind of hasn't been happening. I need more spare time - why can't I get paid for not working???? No fair. But none of this is talking about adventures, is it? We went to Tassie, mostly for a holiday, but also for November Crown. Started out in Hobart - wandered around, just aimlessly, really. Picked out somewhere to have dinner (I wanted seafood), looked in an antique store, left the antique store after realising that the cheapest thing in there was a teaspoon for $55 (the most expensive thing appeared to be a very plain, rectangular table, fairly modern in appearance, made of huon pine, for the bargain basement price of $15,000. Yes, I did get the number of 0s right.....). I gave R a choice of tours that we could do - Cadbury's or Cascade. You'd think most husbands would pick the beer, right?
The second day saw us carting about 5kg of chocolate back to the car after going beserk in the factory shop, and then heading off to Launceston. We wandered off down to the gorge - gotta love daylight saving - where I took way more photos of peacocks than I needed to. And then we stayed there for dinner, which was the best idea anyone has ever had - the food was fabulous. Not cheap, but well worth it.
The next day added Baggy Trousers to our road trip. She looked so sparkly and vivacious when she got off the plane........."I'm still drunk" she muttered, "can I go to sleep now?" We hit Port Sorrell, watched a bunch of boofy blokes hitting each other with sticks, had a feast in a great hall with the most awesome chandelliers, someone fed me tequila, I didn't fall over! It was all good.
Sunday was Cradle Mountain day - we checked in to our accommodation (cabins on stilts) and went for a bushwalk (in the rain), marvelled at the quiet (you don't realise just how much man-made sounds intrude into everyday life until you can't hear any of them...) and slept the sleep of those who have driven too far and had pancakes for lunch.
Moday - St Marys. Nothing there, nothing at all. I think it was actually a public holiday. But the lodge was gorgeous. Eco-tourism - the cabins were solar powered, the view was all the way down the hill to the coast, the air was fresh, there were some kind of wallaby thing lurking around looking cute, it was quiet.
Tuesday had to get us back to Hobart and our flight home. We thought we'd check out Port Arthur, until we got there (70km down the road, thank you very much) and they wanted to charge us $25 each to get in. "But I just want to walk around the grounds!" I wailed. "I don't want your stupid harbour cruise or introductory tour! I just want to walk around the grounds!" It really shat me. I have no objection to paying for things, but I abhor being ripped off, and this just smacked of "Fleece the Tourists!". Up yours, Port Arthur Visitors Centre!
That, in a nutshell, was our Great Tasmanian Adventure! Tune in next week when we her Miss Piggy say............oops, I mean, for the Great Canberra Road Trip! and then there's the I Went to Cat Empire and I Bits Are Still Hurting!
Gosh, I have been busy lately, haven't I? That must be why I'm so tired.....
Good night!
Now it's very pleasant outside, with a cool breeze (I hope some of it is blowing into the bedroom). I wish summer would be more like this - hot dry days, and cool nights......although definitely less of the bushfires.
I've been meaning to write stuff about my adventures over the last couple of weeks, but it kind of hasn't been happening. I need more spare time - why can't I get paid for not working???? No fair. But none of this is talking about adventures, is it? We went to Tassie, mostly for a holiday, but also for November Crown. Started out in Hobart - wandered around, just aimlessly, really. Picked out somewhere to have dinner (I wanted seafood), looked in an antique store, left the antique store after realising that the cheapest thing in there was a teaspoon for $55 (the most expensive thing appeared to be a very plain, rectangular table, fairly modern in appearance, made of huon pine, for the bargain basement price of $15,000. Yes, I did get the number of 0s right.....). I gave R a choice of tours that we could do - Cadbury's or Cascade. You'd think most husbands would pick the beer, right?
The second day saw us carting about 5kg of chocolate back to the car after going beserk in the factory shop, and then heading off to Launceston. We wandered off down to the gorge - gotta love daylight saving - where I took way more photos of peacocks than I needed to. And then we stayed there for dinner, which was the best idea anyone has ever had - the food was fabulous. Not cheap, but well worth it.
The next day added Baggy Trousers to our road trip. She looked so sparkly and vivacious when she got off the plane........."I'm still drunk" she muttered, "can I go to sleep now?" We hit Port Sorrell, watched a bunch of boofy blokes hitting each other with sticks, had a feast in a great hall with the most awesome chandelliers, someone fed me tequila, I didn't fall over! It was all good.
Sunday was Cradle Mountain day - we checked in to our accommodation (cabins on stilts) and went for a bushwalk (in the rain), marvelled at the quiet (you don't realise just how much man-made sounds intrude into everyday life until you can't hear any of them...) and slept the sleep of those who have driven too far and had pancakes for lunch.
Moday - St Marys. Nothing there, nothing at all. I think it was actually a public holiday. But the lodge was gorgeous. Eco-tourism - the cabins were solar powered, the view was all the way down the hill to the coast, the air was fresh, there were some kind of wallaby thing lurking around looking cute, it was quiet.
Tuesday had to get us back to Hobart and our flight home. We thought we'd check out Port Arthur, until we got there (70km down the road, thank you very much) and they wanted to charge us $25 each to get in. "But I just want to walk around the grounds!" I wailed. "I don't want your stupid harbour cruise or introductory tour! I just want to walk around the grounds!" It really shat me. I have no objection to paying for things, but I abhor being ripped off, and this just smacked of "Fleece the Tourists!". Up yours, Port Arthur Visitors Centre!
That, in a nutshell, was our Great Tasmanian Adventure! Tune in next week when we her Miss Piggy say............oops, I mean, for the Great Canberra Road Trip! and then there's the I Went to Cat Empire and I Bits Are Still Hurting!
Gosh, I have been busy lately, haven't I? That must be why I'm so tired.....
Good night!
Panda Death Haikus (which are not actually haikus at all.....)
Ages back, on the way to the pub, someone said something that was misheard as "panda death haiku", and a new age in stupid poetry was born. Later that same evening, someone who shall remain nameless said, at a volume that could be heard in the next suburb (that should be a dead giveaway to those that know him) said "you can stick your Ezra Pound haiku up yer bum!", which is where that reference comes from. When I wrote these, which was way back then (about this time last year) I looked up the format on the internet (I couldn't remember how many syllables there were supposed to be in each line). Anyway, I needn't have bothered, cos I still fucked it up. Oh well, here they are anyway......
Pandas are all around me
Black and white furry
Singing panda death haikus
Pandas and death abounding
Fighting endlessly
Though only death’s a winner
Can you not see me panda?
Can you not hear me?
Or is it that you’re dying?
Panda looks death in the eye
You do not scare me!
Death turns away shamefully
Pandas are strong and mighty!
They do not fear death
For death is just the long sleep
Pandas drinking beer and wine
They laugh and stumble
And fart in death’s direction
Death gets the shits with pandas
They will pay for this
For I am almighty Death!
Take your Ezra Pound haiku
Stick it up your bum
Drunk pandas say laughingly
Right! That’s it! You’re in trouble
Death’s anger explodes
Had it up to here with you
Oh yeah? Bring it on drop kick!
Pandas mooning death
We will kick your bony arse
Death attacks, the fight is on
Pandas are swinging
Pandas drunk, Death fights dirty
Though the pandas are many
Death is much faster
And the pandas start dying
Pandas and death abounding
Fighting endlessly
Though only death’s a winner
Pandas are all around me
Black and white furry
Singing panda death haikus
Yes, yes, I know that it should be 5-7-5, rather than 7-5-7. I really don't know how I got it so wrong. Dyslexia? or just Stupidity?
Pandas are all around me
Black and white furry
Singing panda death haikus
Pandas and death abounding
Fighting endlessly
Though only death’s a winner
Can you not see me panda?
Can you not hear me?
Or is it that you’re dying?
Panda looks death in the eye
You do not scare me!
Death turns away shamefully
Pandas are strong and mighty!
They do not fear death
For death is just the long sleep
Pandas drinking beer and wine
They laugh and stumble
And fart in death’s direction
Death gets the shits with pandas
They will pay for this
For I am almighty Death!
Take your Ezra Pound haiku
Stick it up your bum
Drunk pandas say laughingly
Right! That’s it! You’re in trouble
Death’s anger explodes
Had it up to here with you
Oh yeah? Bring it on drop kick!
Pandas mooning death
We will kick your bony arse
Death attacks, the fight is on
Pandas are swinging
Pandas drunk, Death fights dirty
Though the pandas are many
Death is much faster
And the pandas start dying
Pandas and death abounding
Fighting endlessly
Though only death’s a winner
Pandas are all around me
Black and white furry
Singing panda death haikus
Yes, yes, I know that it should be 5-7-5, rather than 7-5-7. I really don't know how I got it so wrong. Dyslexia? or just Stupidity?
Shocking!
I have some shocking news..........so shocking, you may not belive it, but Naomi Robson is on her way over...
I did some sewing on my tent today.
I did some sewing on my tent today.
More views from the floor......
One of the things that seem to happen when people get drunk and nick your stuff is this:
And, of course, because you were also drunk this happens:
And, of course, because you were also drunk this happens:
And then somehow you find pictures of yourself on the internet in your underwear......
Oh dear. I hope my grandmother isn't watching.
Scoundrels & thieves
In answer to your question, Baggy Trousers, yes, it WAS my camera you stole.......
Erm, I think.......does anyone recognise those fillings?
Kids: remember how your mum used to tell you that if you didn't wash in your ears potatoes would grow in them? Well here's your proof. Good shot of the hat tho'
Erm, I think.......does anyone recognise those fillings?Kids: remember how your mum used to tell you that if you didn't wash in your ears potatoes would grow in them? Well here's your proof. Good shot of the hat tho'
Thieves & scoundrels
I say, had a rather smashing time Saturday night, wot wot? A jolly decent shindig was thrown by my good friends, a lot of G&T's were drunk (with pinkies out), and some fiendish devil "liberated" my camera.
Are we sensing a common denominator here? Can we perhaps find a culprit for this dastardly theft? Can trust these young gels of today. Ruining the country, they are.
Tally ho, and toodle pip!!
Are we sensing a common denominator here? Can we perhaps find a culprit for this dastardly theft? Can trust these young gels of today. Ruining the country, they are.
Tally ho, and toodle pip!!
Did I do any sewing last night?
Dahn't be daft! Of course I didn't do any bloody sewing!
I spent the night updating my blog (isn't it pretty) and updating my links - which leads to reading ohter people's blogs (which in turn leads to reading blogs linked to those blogs and so on ad infinitum). Then all of a sudden it's bedtime.
I had a lovely evening on Friday. I met up with Miss Droopy Draws and Upside-down Miss Jane at the pub. Somebody else must have drunk the first beer (I swear, there was much more than that in the glass when I put it down!), so I had another one. Those beers were sweet, sweet ambrosia from the gods, I tells you. The others drifted in, in their own good time - Mr H, Miss DV, Mr Snerg and Miss Meg. Then we went for food - had the yummiest chinese food I've had in a long time - we all ate our fill for the bargain price of twelve dorra! (not to self: I owe Mr H twelve dorra). What a way to spend your time, eh? With good beer and good food in the company of some of the nicest people in the world. (oh lord, that sounds really sucky even to me.....)
You may wonder why I'm rambling on about what I did on Friday as if you'd care - well, after I posted the last post, to share with you what I feel to be the highlight of Alan Jones' career, I realised it may be just a tad confronting to see what a cu.....er country man Alan is. This way you at least have to scroll down the page a bit to see the only true rude word left in the english language.
Let this then serve as your warning!
I spent the night updating my blog (isn't it pretty) and updating my links - which leads to reading ohter people's blogs (which in turn leads to reading blogs linked to those blogs and so on ad infinitum). Then all of a sudden it's bedtime.
I had a lovely evening on Friday. I met up with Miss Droopy Draws and Upside-down Miss Jane at the pub. Somebody else must have drunk the first beer (I swear, there was much more than that in the glass when I put it down!), so I had another one. Those beers were sweet, sweet ambrosia from the gods, I tells you. The others drifted in, in their own good time - Mr H, Miss DV, Mr Snerg and Miss Meg. Then we went for food - had the yummiest chinese food I've had in a long time - we all ate our fill for the bargain price of twelve dorra! (not to self: I owe Mr H twelve dorra). What a way to spend your time, eh? With good beer and good food in the company of some of the nicest people in the world. (oh lord, that sounds really sucky even to me.....)
You may wonder why I'm rambling on about what I did on Friday as if you'd care - well, after I posted the last post, to share with you what I feel to be the highlight of Alan Jones' career, I realised it may be just a tad confronting to see what a cu.....er country man Alan is. This way you at least have to scroll down the page a bit to see the only true rude word left in the english language.
Let this then serve as your warning!
Alan Jones is King....
............of prats. I love the way he's constantly making a complete tit out of himself.
Here, for example, is the great man, showing his true colours. Ah Alan, may you always be standing in just the wrong spot.
Here, for example, is the great man, showing his true colours. Ah Alan, may you always be standing in just the wrong spot.
Grrr. Argh.
I have come to the conclusion that Blogger is designed for use with IE. It doesn't seem to like Firefox at all. I struggle and struggle, and the damn thing still won't upload. I curse and swear and kick the cat (not really, just saying), go away for 10 minutes (and find a message that tells me that the server has timed itself out or some such bullshit) and all to no avail. So I post through IE, and it downloads instantly.
I blame Jeff Kennett.
I blame Jeff Kennett.
Green grows me bogling fork!! Part II
Actually, me bogling fork has been lying idle for many a long week (although I did get to threaten Fitz with a jabbing from it's pointy, pointy tines).
It's me garden that's growing green! Look!! (And my blog too! What do you think of the new format?)
(note to self: when uploading your photos, try to make them a little smaller than 280,375 MB so they don't use your entire upload limit at once, and so they fit on the page, goatbrain)
I have been making good use of my time today, grubbing about in the dirt like a peasant. So far today I have:
It's me garden that's growing green! Look!! (And my blog too! What do you think of the new format?)
(note to self: when uploading your photos, try to make them a little smaller than 280,375 MB so they don't use your entire upload limit at once, and so they fit on the page, goatbrain)
I have been making good use of my time today, grubbing about in the dirt like a peasant. So far today I have:
- hoed the front garden (hey skanky ho, whatchoo doin' in my garden!?)
- pulled out a lot of weeds (and not the good kind)
- mowed the lawn
- went to the plant shop and bought tomatoes and lettuce and corn. And herbs, yummy, sweet smelling herbs
- planted tomatoes and lettuce and corn, and watered and mulched (the hardest bit was getting the highly compacted sugarcane mulch out of the packet!). Look, look! There are my veggies in all their minute glory
- I was going to lay another course of bricks on the highly complicated herb garden we're building, but I couldn't find the trowel. When I asked Mr Fe2O3* where he'd put it after laying the first course, he said he hadn't used it, he'd used his hands. Oh, so debonair and sophisticated........
Now I'm all showered and clean and fighting a dirty fight with Blogger over formatting issues (no, no, I want the picture to go there! Why do you keep changing the font? You bastard! What did you delete that for?!?). Sigh. I'm obviously not nerdy enough.**
Tonight, while Himself saves Pendle Hill from vampires, I'm going to attempt something that was supposed to have been completed 3 years ago - I'm going to sew some of my tent. Well, that's the plan, anyway. I'll have to get back to you as to whether I've been successful in my mission......
*the chemical composition of iron oxide, otherwise known as rust(y)
**maybe not, but nerdy enough to know the chemical composition of iron oxide........
Where the bad t-shirts go
Time for some funny pictures, I think.
I'm thinking I should get this for Dad for xmas. Would that be wrong? (more to the point, how many minutes would my life expectancy be?)
And of course a random kitty shot pulled from the endlessly funny stuff on my cat dot com.
That's all for now.
Cool stuff, as promised.
See? It does take a goodly while to download though. So go and grab a cuppa and come back.
Stuff on my blog! dot com
Oh lordy - a whole month went by without a single entry. I am as crap as a really crap thing.
I've been finding that there is only so much time in the day to do the things that I want to do - I can sew, or read other peoples blogs (and assorted interesting information that this often leads to) or write on my own blog, but certainly don't have time for all three.
Since the original aim of this blog was to preserve for prosperity the making (and subsequent wearing) of fancy frocks for Scadian purpoises, I really should actually be documenting the making of these frocks. Instead, I've just been making the frocks. And failing to get myself photographed in them. Oops.
In my next post, I'm gonna put something really cool. Promise.
I've been finding that there is only so much time in the day to do the things that I want to do - I can sew, or read other peoples blogs (and assorted interesting information that this often leads to) or write on my own blog, but certainly don't have time for all three.
Since the original aim of this blog was to preserve for prosperity the making (and subsequent wearing) of fancy frocks for Scadian purpoises, I really should actually be documenting the making of these frocks. Instead, I've just been making the frocks. And failing to get myself photographed in them. Oops.
In my next post, I'm gonna put something really cool. Promise.
Furry pizza
Doesn't that sound appetising?
I think the new billing month has arrived, since the last post (below) worked very well. So here, as promised, is a photo of the World's Fattest Kitty doing her best pizza impersonation...
I am so embarrassed
I think the new billing month has arrived, since the last post (below) worked very well. So here, as promised, is a photo of the World's Fattest Kitty doing her best pizza impersonation...
I am so embarrassed
Dial-up is poo
I've been wanting to post for a few days now. I had thoughts to share, and a fleeting willingness to sit down and type them out....
Dial-up changed all that.
We have cable. Normally I can wizz through cyberspace with speed and ease, I can read peoples blogs and still have time for tea. Then someone in this house, who shall remain nameless, but who knows who he is (don't you Rusty?) decided to download movies. Mr Bandwidth, I'd like to introduce you to Mr Download-Limit. Mr Download-Limit would like to introduce you to Mr 28.8kbps modem speed.
Grass grows faster than that. I have to wait until the new billing month before I can share the embarrassing (yet strangely funny) photo of my cat looking like an enormous furry pizza.
Bet you can't wait.........
Dial-up changed all that.
We have cable. Normally I can wizz through cyberspace with speed and ease, I can read peoples blogs and still have time for tea. Then someone in this house, who shall remain nameless, but who knows who he is (don't you Rusty?) decided to download movies. Mr Bandwidth, I'd like to introduce you to Mr Download-Limit. Mr Download-Limit would like to introduce you to Mr 28.8kbps modem speed.
Grass grows faster than that. I have to wait until the new billing month before I can share the embarrassing (yet strangely funny) photo of my cat looking like an enormous furry pizza.
Bet you can't wait.........
Whingey trousers
I wrote this post on Friday night, but it wouldn't upload. So I tried it again today. And it still wouldn't upload. So I tried using IE (which I loathe and despise) and what do you know? Uploaded lickety-split, pics and all. Maybe I need to see if there's a new version of Firefox.....
Be prepared, I'm going to start whingeing in a minute. Oh, and use rather a lot of bad language.
I had the most god-awful day today, due entirely to the wonderful institution of stocktake. It really shouldn't be this bad, but masterful disorganisation was apparent aim of the day. If I handed you a form with lots of lines for writing down product descriptions (and lets assume that this is your place of gainful employment, so you can't yell "Up yours, Nancypants!" and run away) and you had products to record in locations named Bay A1 through A24, B1 through B56 and so on, what would you do? Make sure that you had written down everything in each bay, and use a new page for each new letter? Or, would you write down most of the stuff in "Bays A1-A24" and then follow on the very next line with "Bays B1-B24", and then discover that there's a bunch of stuff that you didn't write down the first time, and so record it on another page (because you didn't leave any room on the first one) that looks like this: B2, B15, B15, B24, V2, V18, V5, V5, V5, H11, B15, B15, S1, S1, S1??
WTF???????
Anyone with even a small fraction of a brain should be able to see that writing up stock sheets that look like this is going to make it REALLY FUCKING HARD to keep track of what info you have recorded where. It was an aboslute fucking nightmare, let me tell you. And everything had been going really well lately too - I was actually enjoying my job!! There you go, karma is telling me to buy a lottery ticket - I'm not cut out for working.....
On a much brighter note, I spent some time watching You Tube last night. My videos of choice? Animals doing funny things. Show me a video of a kitty ambushing a small child or being clobbered by a rabbit, or (and this is my favourite) chasing off a bear (a bear!!) and I'm happy. So happy I think I did myself an injury (ow).
Now that I'm in a better mood, who else out there watches Supernatural? I'm always a sucker for a ghost story, especially when they populate the cast with such fine eye candy. This pic is for Miss C, who I know will appreciate it. He's a bit older and greyer in the show, but still well worth a look......
Be prepared, I'm going to start whingeing in a minute. Oh, and use rather a lot of bad language.
I had the most god-awful day today, due entirely to the wonderful institution of stocktake. It really shouldn't be this bad, but masterful disorganisation was apparent aim of the day. If I handed you a form with lots of lines for writing down product descriptions (and lets assume that this is your place of gainful employment, so you can't yell "Up yours, Nancypants!" and run away) and you had products to record in locations named Bay A1 through A24, B1 through B56 and so on, what would you do? Make sure that you had written down everything in each bay, and use a new page for each new letter? Or, would you write down most of the stuff in "Bays A1-A24" and then follow on the very next line with "Bays B1-B24", and then discover that there's a bunch of stuff that you didn't write down the first time, and so record it on another page (because you didn't leave any room on the first one) that looks like this: B2, B15, B15, B24, V2, V18, V5, V5, V5, H11, B15, B15, S1, S1, S1??
WTF???????
Anyone with even a small fraction of a brain should be able to see that writing up stock sheets that look like this is going to make it REALLY FUCKING HARD to keep track of what info you have recorded where. It was an aboslute fucking nightmare, let me tell you. And everything had been going really well lately too - I was actually enjoying my job!! There you go, karma is telling me to buy a lottery ticket - I'm not cut out for working.....
On a much brighter note, I spent some time watching You Tube last night. My videos of choice? Animals doing funny things. Show me a video of a kitty ambushing a small child or being clobbered by a rabbit, or (and this is my favourite) chasing off a bear (a bear!!) and I'm happy. So happy I think I did myself an injury (ow).
Now that I'm in a better mood, who else out there watches Supernatural? I'm always a sucker for a ghost story, especially when they populate the cast with such fine eye candy. This pic is for Miss C, who I know will appreciate it. He's a bit older and greyer in the show, but still well worth a look......
What have I done lately?
The answer to this poser is.....
......absolutely bugger all.
Well, I got the volcano dress mostly finished, and wore it to Cold War. Did I get any photos of it? No. I still have to hem it and put the guards on around the skirt, but as these are not vital, they are taking a low priority at the mo.
I've been working on the sleeves (more sleeves - when will I learn) for the Black Cranach frock. It's a very slow process. Part of the reason nothing is going very quickly is that the land of Spar Oom is in perpetual winter (ie: there's no heater in the sewing room) and it's really not terribly condusive to doing any machine sewing. Oh, and it's stocktake this week, which means lots of extra hours, for no extra money. Hooray! But mostly, I just couldn't be arsed.
Meh.
......absolutely bugger all.
Well, I got the volcano dress mostly finished, and wore it to Cold War. Did I get any photos of it? No. I still have to hem it and put the guards on around the skirt, but as these are not vital, they are taking a low priority at the mo.
I've been working on the sleeves (more sleeves - when will I learn) for the Black Cranach frock. It's a very slow process. Part of the reason nothing is going very quickly is that the land of Spar Oom is in perpetual winter (ie: there's no heater in the sewing room) and it's really not terribly condusive to doing any machine sewing. Oh, and it's stocktake this week, which means lots of extra hours, for no extra money. Hooray! But mostly, I just couldn't be arsed.
Meh.
Green grows my bogling fork!
Many thanks go to Topsy for this one. You really, really had to be there. For those that were, here's the rest of the song:
I'll sing you one-oh!
(Green grow me Bogling Fork)
What be your one-oh?
One is the grunge upon my splod, masking my Cordwangle!
I'll sing you two-oh!
(Green grow me Bogling Fork)
What be your two-oh?
Two are me looming thrums, see how they jangle.
One is the grunge upon my splod, masking my Cordwangle!
Three are the times I've lunged my groats!
Two are me looming thrums, see how they jangle.
One is the grunge upon my splod, masking my Cordwangle!
Four for me whirdler's bent-oh!
Three are the times I've lunged my groats!
Two are me looming thrums, see how they jangle.
One is the grunge upon my splod, masking my Cordwangle!
Five's the wonglers up my spong,
Four for me whirdler's bent-oh!
Three are the times I've lunged my groats!
Two are me looming thrums, see how they jangle.
One is the grange upon my splod, it's ruined my Cordwangle!!!
Laugh? I've never seen so many tears.
I'll sing you one-oh!
(Green grow me Bogling Fork)
What be your one-oh?
One is the grunge upon my splod, masking my Cordwangle!
I'll sing you two-oh!
(Green grow me Bogling Fork)
What be your two-oh?
Two are me looming thrums, see how they jangle.
One is the grunge upon my splod, masking my Cordwangle!
Three are the times I've lunged my groats!
Two are me looming thrums, see how they jangle.
One is the grunge upon my splod, masking my Cordwangle!
Four for me whirdler's bent-oh!
Three are the times I've lunged my groats!
Two are me looming thrums, see how they jangle.
One is the grunge upon my splod, masking my Cordwangle!
Five's the wonglers up my spong,
Four for me whirdler's bent-oh!
Three are the times I've lunged my groats!
Two are me looming thrums, see how they jangle.
One is the grange upon my splod, it's ruined my Cordwangle!!!
Laugh? I've never seen so many tears.
Hooray!
It finally worked. 'Bout bloody time too.
Wonders of modern technology, pig's bum. (he he, I said bum!)
Wonders of modern technology, pig's bum. (he he, I said bum!)
