Sunday, 13 June 2010

Balls, Games, And Smug Trugs

You see, I come from the camp that I'll support my man 'all the way' if he's good to me, and treats me right. If it differs from that, then naturally, I won't hesitate to 'Move The Goalposts', so...."You watch as much Footie as you care to. You monopolise the remote to your hearts' content, but, expect me to lift my t-shirt up over my head when Engerland score a goal, and go running round the room like A Complete Loony, like I used to when you first started 'courting' me, and Arsenal did, you've got another think coming Trousers...." (mind you, Children - it WAS funny, but you did have to be there!) And I might just clear this up? Arsenal have never courted me.

But then, of course, once Your Man has been with you about ten years, you only become important again when the Scotch or Remote Control Batteries run low.

So I cheered me up yesterday evening by picking myself the second of our homegrown mini-cauliflowers...... Then this evening, one of my very own 'Smug Trugs' of stuff that I like to grow....
...... spending quality time in my kitchen preparing it, cooking it, and serving it up....
to possibly The Grumpiest Man on The Planet, on his lap.... (on a tray!) in front of the television.
It's a free country, and to be perfectly honest with you, anyone is welcome to apply for the position. I'm quite confident I'd not be missed.
It's not that I actively hate footie, or ball games in general, but I was rather relieved when Trousers went to bed last night, and I had the whole of 'Sense and Sensibility' in my Sitting Room all to myself with a glass of red wine, and between me and the cat, there wasn't a dry eye in the house! Now THAT's Entertainment for you!
Do you REALLY think Men are from Venus and Women are from Mars?!
or was is the other way around!
Thankfully, I've got my 'Newest Best Friend' coming round tomorrow to inject me with a shot more of her girlie humour, and hopefully, if the weather is kind, she may be able to take a shed-load of photos of the magnificent roses in The Funny Farm front garden, and Fert'n'Liza, and my Wellies On The Doorstep (for a special reason!). Last time she came round, I made the worst Vicky Sponge Cake you'd never want to introduce your Mother-In-Law to?, so I did promise Gloria that I'd attempt to make a different kind of cake this time. The time is currently 5 minutes after midnight, and if you're reading this now, there's a carparking space in Cheppie Tesco where the carrier bag gave way late this afternoon, sporting two eggs, and some granulated sugar Sweetheart. I was tempted to go back into the store to buy the butter and flour to add to them, but because I've had everyTHING and everyBODY 'completely up to here' this week, and no wooden spoon in my handbag, much like yourself, and in your own words last week, but a tad more printable, I asked and answered my own question in the same breath: ....: "Am I Bovvered?"!
Indeed I am 'Bovvered', and if you'll let me, I'll be back with you again during the next week sometime. Thank you for being here.X

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