You know there’s a lot of big stuff going on to be concerned about – we have a new PM being elected by an elite faction (Dumb or Dumber) and through someone being honest we’ve really antagonised the very competent US President (the Dumbest), whilst a solution to the Brexit debacle will be delivered when I see an elephant fly (Dumbo). See what I did there? Seriously folks there’s a lot to think about and yet I have been dumbfounded by some pretty bizarre occurrences these last few days and I’m searching for some answers…
First up, we have a weird patio phenomenon. You see on those rare occasions when it rains here in sunny Brackley, the raindrops appear to be selective about which flagstones they choose to settle on. A bit like the Israelis in the Gaza strip. Don’t believe me? Check out this pic I took when the rain started falling – you’ll see that the smaller meaner flagstones (which appear to be made from exactly the same material) have been avoided whilst the rain clearly prefers the more spacious richer territories…
Who knew that the rain was sizeist and possibly Zionist? And this wasn’t a one-off thing, it happens every time it pours. How do you explain that Carol Kirkwood? And does Jeremy Corbyn know? If he did he’d probably want to include a provision to ‘cancel the weather’ in the Labour Party manifesto.
Then yesterday an even weirder thing happened. First thing every day I go and get my morning paper – the i – and after breakfast I read it cover to cover to catch up on all the news I’ve just watched on morning tv, listenned to on the radio and read earlier on my iPad. And then when my data input needs are brutally sated, I try and keep my mental faculties sharp by doing the crossword, then the jigsawdoku (my current favourite), the idoku, soduku, the word ladder, word wheel, the 5-clue cryptic crossword and finally (around 4 minutes later – just joking folks) the codeword. Now in case you don’t know this, with the codeword they give you just 3 letters (usually odd little ones like F, C and K – my favourite consonants) to fill in a large crossword and you have to figure out what letters go in the remaining 85 blank spaces through brain power alone. Absolutely no clues. And I’m a bloody ninja at it, he said modestly. I’d almost completed yesterday’s codeword, just the final letter needed to be added. Here’s what I was faced with – it’s the word running down from the top line with the blank no1 in the centre….
What are the chances of the final clue on your fave puzzle being your very own surname eh? As if they’d created it just for me – and if you don’t think this is all about moi then what about those two clues running right across the middle line? And look at some of those other words; Lie, Fake, Disuse, Habit, Ache, Lawsuit, Quit, Exits, Adieu! Blimey if that doesn’t describe the arc of my corporate life in the telecomms industry then I’m a Dutchman. Or as I usually put it Ik zou het moeten zeggen.
So I passed this over to Carol and said look at this, what are the chances of the final completed word being our surname? ‘Since when have we been known as the Leopards’ she said. ‘It’s not Leopard,’ I replied, ‘the final letter is not a P but a frigging N – it spells LEONARD’. ‘What’s a Nig then?’ she asked, a tad condescendingly. ‘It’s a cross between a nectarine and a fucking fig’ I responded and spun on my heels and headed off indignantly to fill up the dishwasher.
I don’t know, some people just don’t believe that there is a higher force or being that defines certain outcomes for its own mysterious purpose. Be it the God of a religion, some cosmic entity that we have yet to meet, or the consciousness of the universe itself. This is fate, not fucking Blockbusters I thought, with your ‘Can I have a P please Bob’. Then I realised I’d already used the N letter. Oh for nucking nucks sake.
If the truth is out there, it’s clearly a woman thing.
If all else fails Paul stick to stacking the dishwasher. Judging by this household and that of my daughters, I just think men do it more logically. I mean, who would stack the top shelf from the front and why put large soup bowls up there when they can neatly sit in the lower rack thereby making the most use of the space? Keep writing pal, love it
Ha! Exactly Al! Dishwashers are totally a logical male thing, even if the truth is all womanhood. Thanks for your continued readership mate.
Excuse me ! I know how to load a dishwasher whilst telling the men in my family where they have left their various belongings. This is called multi tasking. Now that’s a woman thing. PS is Nasta Naulie your evil twin ?
Ha! I’m busted Lorraine. Every time I fill the dishwasher Carol will come and rearrange it the proper way. Hey ho. Thanks for your comments anyway L – much appreciated. And evil twin? Umm I like that…