Posts Tagged ‘blog’

MERRY MICKELMAS…or something…

Guten Afternoon-en,Reality Surfers and Splitters of the Infinitive!!

‘Tis I,ब्लॉग कुत्ता !!!

And in the words of Sir Noddy Holder…IT’S BLOGMAS !!!!!!!

A time to remember the important things in life,such as getting rammed out of your cabbage on Asti Spumante at the office party and waking up the next morning with Dawn,the fat girl who fills the photocopier.A time to think of those less fortunate than yourself,the poor souls who,believe it or not,aren’t intergalactic pug-dogs of mystery with a vast fortune amassed in a life of adventure,intrigue and leg-humping.For even though I am a fabulously wealthy adventurer in time and space and elsewhere,it doesn’t mean that I don’t think of those less fortunate than myself.

*By the way,the people from the gas board called..they’ll be round to switch off your supply on Tuesday,….*

Ha ha…umm…yes thank you for reminding me…I’m switching over to electric heating.I’ve heard wonderful things about Economy 7-

*…and I’ve taken the magnet off the electricity meter…the bloke from n-power said,and I quote “Low usage is one thing but we were just taking the pi-*

SShhh…ha ha yes you do that,I don’t know how it got there…bloody kids.Bring back National Service,that’s what I say….Anyway,shouldn’t you be packing ?
*I’ve nearly finished*

Yes indeed,Constant Reader…you read right…I am vacating my current Fortress of Blogitude and relocating to a swanky drum in the Docklands…West India Quay to be exact.Tube stations are so last year.And Mornington Crescent is rather too big for me and Rizla now that my former love,Miss Deidre Macbeth,has run off with that Tennant person.Where is he now,eh?
Eh ?
Answers to this,and other,questions shall be forthcoming during the next twelvemonth,for The Dog of Blog will be back in business very soon,banging one off the wrist,as it were,with more gusset-ripping installments of The Necronomnomicon and more tuber-troubling terrors with everyone’s favourite psycho-bitch,Marjorie Misnomer.
Christmas is a time for family..but seeing as I have no family,I’ve decided that Blogmas is a time for me,so if you’ll excuse me,I must away to my new pad to install the shark tank and gruff a box or ten of jelly fruits while watching Her Majesty (God Bless Her) on the tellybox,for was it not John The Baptist who said-

*Umm you may want to stop it there,actually…*

For why,pray,for why ?

*Well there appear to be two very large gentlemen with hurty-sticks  attempting to squeeze themselves through the barrier you put up to keep the council tax bloke out-*

SHIT!

*I think I already have*

Oh Buddha it’s the Theydon Bois !!!

*Big lads,aren’t they?*

Wapping!

*Oh Arsenal*

Down the secret tunnel!! Time to blog off,Dear Reader…until we meet again in futures uncertain,Happy Blogmas !!

Alright dudes ?

Hola!

‘Tis I-El Perro Blog…reporting from the London Underground,and my Mornington Crescent lair… and I am one year old !!

Yes,adventure-fans..it was one year ago (almost) today that I was found,swaddled in a copy of Razzle,on the doorstep of 10 Downing Street,having fallen through a rift in the time-space continuum following my battle with the Daleks on Uranus.(I have to do ALL the work while Tennant gets all the glory…and my wife,but that’s another story)

But there is no time for a detailed origin story this week….another time maybe…if I can be arsed.

Not only do I have to advertise for another maid/cleaner/cook/tea-maker/asbestos cleaner/toenail-cutter,but I also need to finish my profile on this intertubenet dating site I’ve joined-PlentyofDogs.com,because I haven’t had a bit for months…and you wouldn’t believe the dust on the platform.I’ve decided to combine the two jobs,that of lover and caretaker.

My ad reads – “Handsome Immortal Adventurer In Time & Space Seeks Sex-Mad Bitch To Make Tea And Sweep Up”

Haven’t had many replies yet…

Anyway…what can you expect from the upcoming year?

Excitement,adventure and rampant sauciness,that’s what!!

And if I can pull my finger out,more pelvic-floor-testing escapades from my unbelievable life !!!

THE BLOG DOG-like a nun with dwarfism ramming a box of chalk up your crevice…sexier than Eva Mendes carrying a Tesco bag filled with custard creams…the feeling you get when you realise you CAN marry your iMac…the Blog Dog is all these things,and yet more..

Until next time,jollies-junkies !!!

‘Tis I,The Blog Dog…the dog’s dog,the Hocus bloke,the lad himself,the cosmic dick,the mutt’s nuts,here to celebrate my blog reaching the ton! Deidre and I would like to thank all of my fear-fans for their faultless following of my adventures over the past 99 blogs.The little woman and I are currently on holiday in a flashback in Devon,so the blog has been left in the hairy palms of my slave, Rizla…but fear not!! I am,at this very moment,while Deidre puts the dinner on,banging out another existential episode of the orgasmically exciting Marjorie Misnomer series.I do enjoy banging one out of an afternoon..anyway…I’ve also commissioned that fine piece of brainy crackling,Bettany Hughes,to write my life story which will be appearing in the pages of this very blog in the not too distant future,if she can pull her finger out.AND as if that wasn’t enough to make you wet yourself unselfconsciously,I’m also working on the next cranium-cracking chapter of The Necronomnomicon…get in!!!

The future is here,the future is me…a peristaltic smack in the mush,a bunch of fives,madder than a cartload of arseholes,the pan-dimensional scream of terror,the piece of blue cheese you found under the cooker,the standing-in-the-middle-of-Tesco-with an-itchy-arse feeling of helplessness…I am the Hound of the Baskervilles,humping your leg…quite simply,The Blog Dog!

…I love it.

Check this out-

Viagra...now available for blogs...

After my heartfelt plea for information on the whereabouts of the previously famous David Tennant,currently residing in the Where-Are-They-Now-File,I was inundated with information from the caring public.

The appeal became the subject of two very interesting forums…sadly their information did not lead to the location of Mr.Tennant.
But it made me laugh.
Also,I got supermassive traffic to my blog…which is all that matters.
Because…

I LOVE PISSING PEOPLE OFF.

FECKING LOVE IT.

SEEING THE EFFORT THESE “PEOPLE” WENT TO SLAGGING ME OFF MAKES ME THROB IN VERY INTERESTING PLACES.

In return for them linking to my blog from their “website”,I have included links to their sites over there on the right….under the non-judgemental heading My Lovely Haters-(like Father Ted’s My Lovely Horse,but not as funny) so you,Constant Reader, can see for yourself the high level of abuse and hate which I completely adore on a daily basis.

Haters….you gotta love ’em-because they don’t love themselves.

And now,for the benefit of the Forum Fails, a photo of the best Doctor Who ever—try and learn something.

GOD

New Beginnings?

Posted: January 1, 2010 in Life, Uncategorized
Tags: ,

January 1st,2010.

We are already 2 hours and 22 minutes into a new decade as I write this.

I’ve filled in all the important dates,birthdays and such in my new diary,I’ve hung up my new Doctor Who calendar.

And now I’m writing a new blog to pop the cherry of the new year….and contemplating a whole new look for the blog as a whole.

I’m growing bored of the visuals of the blog,and,in keeping with the time of year,I have made a resolution to blog more often…so it makes sense that I should enjoy looking at it.

Stay tuned.

The first decade of the 21st century is over….what the hell happened to the last 10 years?

Who cares…they were rubbish anyway.

I’m going to bed.

Goodnight.

Here’s to the next 10 years….or something.

happy_face

Plenty of this...

What a difference 4 months makes…

Since starting this ‘ere blog,I have have often found myself indulging myself in two activities regarding it-

1.Laughing at my own jokes

2.Looking back at early posts and seeing what’s changed.

Well….quite a lot has changed.

Try this from Born Crappy-

***”From the moment I was born,when the doctor slapped my mother,I was up shit creek.

I had nothing going for me from day one.

Let me explain.

First,my name…Emyr Wyn Lewis,which is a Welsh name…I’m Welsh by the way.

Yeah,I know,I can’t pronounce it either,not even Welsh people can.This is one of the reasons that I’m still single…I die of embarrassment when I have to tell anyone my name,especially women.

And let’s face it,girls,would you rather go out with an Emyr or a James?

Next,my height.

I don’t have one.

I fall into that category known as “short of arse”.This means that most women won’t even look at me unless they’re hobbits.

Onto my looks.Well,women who are usually overweight and haven’t seen any action for a decade always say I’m “lovely” and “sweet” and “handsome”.I’m never told these things by a woman who’s still got her own teeth.

That’s because such females aren’t even looking at me.

Think a bargain basement Daniel O’Donnell…..mixed with a bit of Jimmy Hill.

With a sprinkling of Mr Blobby.

So that’s what I’m working with,and yet I still get people telling me I’m, fantastic and great and a good catch and all that shit…can’t they just be honest?

I learnt a long time ago that you can’t polish a turd.”***

That was back in July….what a moaning old bastard I was then.

I’m quite embarrassed by it,actually.

I’ve changed,honestly… 😉

From Love & Marriage…?-

**Anyway,as many people will tell you,there is apparently “someone for everyone.” I have had the chance to get married several times,but to be honest the thought of spending my entire life with the same person fills me with dread.***

Well as I’m sure many people are sick of hearing by now,I have found someone I would happily spend the rest of my life with…and that DOES NOT fill me with dread.

From All About Me-

BE6E7552-0DAA-3F6F-238F300A0B6D1615**I GO THROUGH 3 PACKETS OF CUSTARD CREAMS A WEEK-only because I am trying to cut down….my favourite brand is Tesco’s own in the yellow wrapper….the best custard cream you can buy..I should know I’ve tried them all,I’m a biscuit expert…***

Believe it or not,I’m truly trying to cut down on my CC intake….I’m moving on to Chocolate hobnobs,much healthier 😉

FromNot Going Out…Party Fears Two

***I prefer the rain.It covers everything.

It means I can wear a raincoat with the hood pulled right over my head…that way no-one will see me and recognise me.

I hardly ever go out unless I really need to,other than for work purposes.I work early in the morning and so have the afternoons off,but once I’m back in the house I stay there.

I fear I may be becoming anti-social….

…but I truly HATE the outside world.***

OMG…Now I can’t wait to get out into the world….I just wish I could go everywhere at once,holding hands with my beautiful little girlfriend.

I want to go out into the world and shout out to everyone who will listen…look at my gorgeous girl,she’s the mutt’s nuts and I’m SO proud of her.

Then I’ll probably be arrested…but at least I’ll be happy 🙂

From What’s In A Name?

***I think until I can decide on a new name,or the whole world turns Welsh,whichever comes soonest,I shall be known as Wyn to all those non-Taffies out there….well,the ones who actually want to know what my name is…***

Well,The GF is a non-Taffy,and she has no problem pronouncing my name….go figure.

She can pronounce my name,is small,cute,brainy,pretty and cuddly…could she BE any more perfect….? 😉

Talk about a bolt from the blue….perhaps the universe had had enough of my moaning and arranged for Cupid to do a bit of overtime.

Whatever….I’m in love and I don’t care who knows it….I want to shout it from the rooftops,and,judging by my early blogs,I wouldn’t normally do this kind of thing.

But now I do do this kind of thing….I’m actually confident for the first time in my life….I no longer want to hide my head when I’m outside….

I’ve got a bit of a swagger in my step. 🙂

But some things have not changed-

1.Still hate Tesco

2.Still can’t drive,but am working on it

3.Still like Cup-A-Soups,but not as much as I used to…

4.Still live next door to an alcoholic granny

Thank you to all my readers for your continued visits to my blog…I know I’ve been slacking of late (well,I’ve had my mind on someone 😉 but I’ll try and make up for that from now on.

Until next time—-goodbyeeee!!!

...not so much of this.

...not so much of this.

Eat your heart out,Torchwood!

Eat your heart out,Torchwood!

Salutations and felicitations,oh seekers of the truth and collectors of the pure!

I am…

…..The Blog Dog!

But of course,you already knew that,otherwise you would not be here,seeking my wisdom….and dripping on my welcome mat.

Anyhoo,come yourself in and I’ll spin you a wee tale of adventure & derring-do.

That’s it,park your sit-upon down there,mind the cannibal,they’re everywhere,harmless really…just keep an eye on your extremities.

What’s that? Oh yes,I’ve moved my centre of operations into Mornington Crescent tube station…nobody ever gets on or off here,so I can do what I like…..welcome to the Fortress Of Blogitude,2.0!! It’s spacious,secret and has tea & coffee making facilities.It was closed for “repairs” during much of the 1990s,which was when I took the opportunity to make a few “structural alterations”.

Cuppa? Help yourself,there’s some in the pot.Will you pour one for me too…milk and four lumps,please…no sugar.

Now…let me tell you about the “little problem” I had when I moved in to Mornington Crescent.I had only that day returned from the 1960s,where I had been “filling in” in the gynaecology department at St.Bartholomew’s Hospital…they were short staffed you see,the other doctors had disappeared but they found them later,bound and gagged and stuffed in a broom cupboard.

I reckon it was medical students,or something,sniffing ether.

This station does not exist....

This station does not exist....

Anyway,I landed the Invisible Plane in the concourse of the station,and alighted.I had no trouble from the ticket collector on duty as I jumped the barrier,because Raffles is “on the staff” as it were,and helps keep real people out who may have wandered in thinking Mornington Crescent is a genuine tube station and want to go to Cockfosters.Eh? Yes it is,isn’t it? Most amusing.

I trotted down the escalator which doesn’t work,for appearances sake,and went to inspect the work that was being carried out.Several art students were hard at it,a-hammering and a-nailing and a-trying desperately to break their chains–no chance,those chains were made of case-hardened Dynastrene,the hardest substance known to man.

Deidre was busy polishing the third rail….her hair was somewhat “on end.”

“That’s it,babes” I said as I scuttled past,”I want to be able to see my face in those rails.And sort your hair out,you look a right state…and watch those arcs of electricity emanating from your extremities,you could hurt someone.”

Professor Bernardo Whiplash-Prebendary was installing the secret door to my lair,cunningly disguised as the Mornington Crescent tube roundel on the wall of the platform.She turned to greet me.

“Ah Bloggers,you complete and utter waster in time and space,there you are! Not bad this,eh…you just touch the second “O” in “Mornington” and the wall slides back to allow access to the Fortress.” She demonstrated,the wall slid back silently to reveal a dark,velvet-lined corridor; a distant light indicated the door to the inner sanctum,secured with a 21-tumbler lock.

“Good work,Prof.Fancy a cuppa and a bourbon?”

“Yes please,after you.” We crossed the threshold into the Fortress of Blogitude,and walked down the corridor towards the door.I produced my key to open the Triponic Lock.

“By the way,Bloggers,can you smell burning?”

“Oh that’s just Deidre.”

“Oh,that’s all right then.”

********************************************************************************

INTERMISSION

THE BLOG DOG RETURNS AFTER A WORD FROM OUR SPONSORS! STAY TUNED!!

“Do you have any unwanted gold jewellery lying around the house? Then send it to me,and I’ll send you a cheque by return of post for their full market value!!! Just pop your baubles in a jiffy bag and send them to this address-

THE BLOG DOG,

THIRD CUBICLE ALONG,

GENTS TOILETS,

ST.PANCRAS STATION,

LONDON.

Unlock the potential value of your valuables today!!!

(Terms and conditions apply,cheques will not be honoured.)

*********************************************************************************

Look,that's my TARDIS !!! The brown,cupboardy thing...

Look,that's my TARDIS !!! The brown,cupboardy thing...

***BACK TO THE ACTION***

I was just drifting off to sleep in my King-sized bed,Deidre quietly simmering and still sparking a bit next to me,when I was startled by a curious sound issuing from the general vicinity of the platform.Slipping on my slippers,I crept out of the boudoir,through the study,across the piranha pool,around the aerodrome,crossed the kitchen,stopping only for a cuppa and a garibaldi,took the monorail to the main living quarters,and tiptoed to the front entrance.I opened the door,just a crack,and had a look.

I did some lookings,and thanked the Gods above or wherever they hang out,that I had taken the shortcut from the boudoir,for there,acting as if he owned the ruddy place,was a Suit!

The Suits had found my secret headquarters!!!

I was immobile with shock and fear….and worse than that,I couldn’t move either.I thought I had seen it all in my long,exciting life….I had battled the Flesh-eating Fish of Fantabulus 5 in the Wombat galaxy,arm-wrestled with Genghis Khan in the snug of the Dog & Duck…even skinny-dipped with Osama bin Laden….

But there are corners of the universe that have bred the most evil unspeakable things,and l was looking at one of them now.

It was beyond description…the words needed to do justice to its appalling appallingness have yet to be invented by some mad,deranged dictionary compiler who has recently looked up the arsehole of Hell whilst wearing a thong.

 My very soul shat its pants.

The Suit was wearing a tweed suit.

The tweed suit wasn’t too happy about that,and was desperately trying to escape the thing’s vile slimy blobbiness.

The Suit was studying what looked like a map.

Summoning every last inch of my iron will (and I have a very big iron will…just ask the missus) I opened the door wider and strode out to meet my doom.The oily pen-pusher turned to “face” me,an unctuous smile birthing,suffering a short but painful life,then dying on his noisome visage.

“Ah good evening,sir.” he smarmed “are you the owner of this umm…hee hee….secret underground lair?”

His voice chilled my very being.

“Yes I am,you hideous horror from Harrogate.How did you get in here?” I feared he may have done Raffles a damage.

“The ticket collector was in his little hut watching Doctor Who..hee hee..a David Tennant episode I think.”

He smiled a soul-fisting smile…he was enjoying himself….how did he know of my utter hatred of….”The Tennant?”

“I stopped for a cuppa and a French Fancy and had a chat while we watched the programme.Tennant is much better than that awful Tom Baker person,I think.”

!!!!!!

“He said I could go down and,as it were,”knock the mad bugger up”,so here I am…ha ha….and quite frankly,it’s a good job I came,because this whole place is just downright dangerous.Did you know there are piranha fish in your swimming pool?”

“Yes,it’s a piranha pool.”

“But someone could fall in and get eaten!”

“That’s the whole bloody point,you knob!”

“Fair enough….oh and by the way,I’ve err…ha ha…come here to twat you.Twattage should take no longer than 30 of your Earth seconds.Twattage is completely painless and lovely.Your experience of Twattage may vary.”

“Begone from my Fortress,you muppetry salesman! Don’t you know who I am ?”

“Yes.”

I waited.

I waited some more.

“Well?”

He pulled a crumpled piece of paper from his waistcoat pocket,unscrewed it and consulted its contents.There was a Werther’s Original stuck to it.

“You are the Blog Dog.” he announced,and returned the paper to his pocket.

“Ah.”

“Ah indeed,you canine clod.” said a velvety voice from the void.

I turned towards the sound-a small girl was erupting from the blackness of the tunnel which led to Edgware on the Northern Line,calling at Camden Town,Chalk Farm and Belsize Park,among others.

I recognised “her” instantly,even though it had been some time since we had spent any time together.

“Marjorie Misnomer….we meet again.”

“Indeed we do.” She sidled towards me…she gave good sidle.”Umm..one seems to have been neglecting one’s children recently,hasn’t one?”

She kebabbed me with her gory gaze.

“Well…umm..I’ve been busy.”

“Busy?”

“Yes…moving house,saving the world,you know how it is,all kinds of things cropping up.Ummm how have you been,Marjorie?”

Marjorie Misnomer stared at me.Hard.

“Well you see,that’s the funny thing-I don’t know how I’ve been because you haven’t written me for bloody ages !!!!” She grabbed me by my tartan collar and hoisted me up level with with her eyes.

” I want more life….father.”

(You nicked that from Blade Runner.)

Oh hello,you’ve been quiet tonight…Deidre keeping you busy…good…that coal won’t clean itself…..

Anyhoo…

I felt something give in my nether regions,but I kept a stiff upper.”But…but…Deidre doesn’t like your stories,she prefers it when I blog about real life stuff….but I do have one of your stories in the archive,I just need to finish it…it’s a good ‘un too.” I lied.

“How is Deidre by the way?” asked Marjorie.

“AC/DC.”

“Really? How interesting.Where was I…oh yes,Tarquin was going to Twat you.” She motioned to The Suit,who had taken to picking his nose.”Tarquin,please be so kind as to bring the Twattage.”

The abomination in tweed slobbered towards me…I was going to be Marmite.My mind raced…..actually it raced quite quickly,so quickly in fact that it left my body and made a run for it-I couldn’t in all honesty blame it….it was the end of The Blog Dog.

If Tarquin didn’t get me,then Marjorie would–why had I written her so evil? She was only ever meant to be a bit of fun because I couldn’t think of anything good to blog about one evening.

Curse my boundless talent!!

“Wait!” I yelled,as Tarquin loomed over me,poised to Twat me with his Twatter.”I promise I’ll finish the third chapter of Marjorie Misnomer & The Impossible Fish!”

Marjorie halted Tarquin’s arm.”Promise on your signed photograph of Katie Price.”

The bitch!

“Alright I promise on my signed photo of Katie Price.”

“Very well,dog.I shall give you until this time next week to finish and publish it.Make sure I get all the best lines.Come along,Tarquin.”

They ambled off in the general direction of Golders Green,holding hands.

Ewww.

THE END

(Bit of a crap ending,that.)

It’s one of them “To be continued” jobbies.

(I simply cannot wait for the next part.)

Of course you can’t…now,it’s time to feed the piranhas…I think one art student will be enough,don’t want them to get too fat.

Until next time,thrill-junkies!!!

Farewell!!!

  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Perfect Day

Posted: August 31, 2009 in Life, Uncategorized
Tags: , , , , , , ,

Perfect Day…what comes into your mind when you hear those words? Lou Reed,probably…hopefully,because it is a classic song.

“Oh it’s such a perfect day…..I’m glad I spent it with you.”

It may just be me,but that song has always depressed me….today may have been a “perfect day”…but what about the future?

Today may have been perfect…but tomorrow won’t be…we’re just putting a brave face on things.

Hmmm….always looking to the future,me….I can never just “live in the moment.”

I can’t “let myself go” as the old dears at the granny party tried to make me do.

Is it even possible to just enjoy “the moment?” To have fun for fun’s sake? I suppose you can if you’re not a miserable old bugger like me…but I live in hope of experiencing a Perfect Day,perhaps even with someone else.

I can think of someone I would like to have a Perfect Day with…more of that later. 😉

But first,with a little help from my friends,a recreation of the BBC’s (admittedly schmaltzy) multi-celeb version of Perfect Day in blog form.—–By Wyn

So…a blog with the theme of “perfect day”. I thought about this for a while and after an initial blast of Lou Reeds song;

Oh it’s such a perfect day, I’m glad I spent it with you.”

in this instance a perfect day being one spent with someone who means a lot to him (I’m ignoring the ideas it’s about his drug use). I started to move onto other thoughts about what a perfect day means to me.

I don’t happen to have a special someone in my life at the moment but don’t feel that this stops me from being able to enjoy a “perfect day”.

So I thought some more….

Now, hoping I don’t sound too clichéd, actually I feel that every day in life (even the really sh***y ones) have some aspects of perfection about them. Now before you think “yeah, yeah she’s obviously had an easy time of life” I haven’t. Life has dealt me quite a lot of “challenging times” but every day has taught me something (when I’ve gotten over the hysteria or intense weeping!). There is something beautiful and perfect in everyday and embracing that helps me realise EVERY day is perfect.——By Emma

Perfect day(for Emyr’s 50TH! oldie :P):
What exactly is a perfect day?Is it when its sunny and cool, or is it when rain is hammering down and you get to spend quality time with your family because your to scared to go outdoors? Is a perfect day like that song by all the singers suggest.Is it like the video to that song?Is it none of these things?something completely different maybe?
Want to know what I think? Course you don’t. But I’m going to tell you anyway.

A perfect day is a mix of all the things I previously said.A perfect day is where there is a drizzle of rain in the morning before you go out to see your mates and when you do go out the sun shines but the early morning drizzle helps keep the air cool and fresh. A perfect day is spending time with the people you love and care about,Just talking,Like most of us have forgotten to do.And a perfect day is going out and enjoying life whilst you can. Live for today work for tomorrow 😀    By Shanna

I think I have probably had perfect days which may have seemed pretty ordinary at the time and were certainly not pre-planned to be anything particularly special and I think this is probably the key to their specialness – the lack of planning and expectation and the sense of simply going with the flow of life. For example one of the nicest days I can remember was spent on Dartmoor walking with my other half. We got up in the morning, decided it was a good day for a hike, packed a very simple picnic and off we went. The day was spent admiring the natural beauty on our doorstep and spending real quality time with each other and talking to each other about real stuff, not whether we needed milk or if the bins had been put out but real conversation that everyday life quite often precludes. But on the other hand, days that you might expect to be perfect, like your wedding day for example are often so well planned or so anticipated that the real beauty of life and the joy of spontaneity and the unknown are lost. Don’t get me wrong, I loved my wedding day and it is one of the most memorable in my life but it was also a bit stressful (being centre of attention is not my thing!) and as we had been thinking about, planning and living it for months in advance in the end it could never have been everything we expected or envisaged.
So, what am I trying to say here? I don’t know, I probably shouldn’t be allowed to witter on longer than 140 characters but I guess the gist of my message is that we shouldn’t plan our lives too much, shouldn’t worry too much about the future and make sure we spend quality time with the ones we care about. If we do this we might all just have perfect days more often.—– By Lisa

It’s been a long, hard night’s work. You’ve been at it since sunset, and now the sun is rising again. 12 hours is a long time without a break. As the sky greys, you’re impossibly tired and wondering how this next day is going to pan out, whether you’re going to make it through. But then, in a heartbeat, everything changes. In one breath the day becomes absurdly magical. It only takes one tell-tale sound for you to know you you’ve made it. One cry. And at the end of that cry you’re looking at a brand new person. And that tiny brand new person is looking right back at you. This is their first day, and you know you’re going to do your damnedest to make it perfect.—– By Beccy

My perfect day is simple… Me and my best friend. We do not get to meet as much sadly because of how life gets busy, but every time we meet and make a day out of it you have no idea where we shall end up and how much fun we shall have! From going to Stonehenge, Balloon Festival, Banksy, to just random strolls around London, taking pictures, yapping away, or just discussing life and its philosophies over a cuppa! This is my idea of a perfect day… a perfect day with my best friend :)—– By Sami
I think it’s psychologically impossible to have a perfect day on a Monday.
The invisible Monday monkeys see to that, that’s why were all grumpy on a Monday, little did you know that the Monday monkeys are constantly annoying us.

Having a perfect day on a Tuesday is possible but uncool, bit like marrying someone called Eric Winterbottom.

Wednesday is the piggy, I’d be much happier having a good day on Wednesday simply because the perfect day would probably be winning the lottery, and thus mid-week would be a perfect time to tell people that “I’m never coming back to work”, “stick it up your trumpet”, and “sorry I actually think you look like a fool!”

I’ll have two days then to get ready for the weekend. Perfect!

Oh Friday and Saturday too late! Sunday sleeping!—–By Dean


The day would start early, with me waking from a dream where I had been flying and swooping over beaches and mountains. I’d be in a great mood, not tired and not hungry, so I wouldn’t have to waste time with breakfast. I wouldn’t have to mess around having a shower, as I’d already be fragrant and clean, with perfect make up and I’d have long hair, tied in a pony tail.
My Mum would turn up to feed the animals and stay with them and, once I’d kissed her on the cheek, I’d teleport out of there. There would be portals in all my close Twitter friends’ houses and I’d go round to each of them and gather them up with me for a picnic. They would all be ready, so I wouldn’t have to wait.
We’d arrive under a willow tree, by a stream with a bridge over it and there would be hampers of food. I wouldn’t have to eat a sandwich first before my ice cream…as I’m now grown up and can do what I want. There would be junk food for everyone but no alcohol…we’d just be on a natural high.
Then, across the bridge would come loads of different animals of all species..wild ones, domesticated ones etc. They would all be tame, and I’d cuddle them and hold them, and look into their eyes to see what I could learn.
It would now be afternoon and everyone would teleport back to their homes. When I got to my house my animals would come to greet me and there would also be Basil, my guinea pig who died a few weeks ago. I’d pick him up and kiss his little face and smell his belly and tell him how much I’ve missed him. I’d feed him his favourite veggies and never let him go.
All afternoon I would be sitting on the floor with my pets and watching musicals that I’d sing along to…especially ones with cockney songs in. I’d then watch a few episodes of Worzel Gummidge.
Towards early evening, my clothes would change into something sexy but classy, just before my favourite man from Twitter teleported in. We would have a candlelit dinner at the table, but it would be a take away and there’d be plenty of tea and lemonade. We’d then go through to the living room and relax on the sofa to watch classic episodes of Doctor Who, and maybe also a really good sci-fi film.
Just before midnight we would go outside and lie on the trampoline watching the stars and talking about the Universe…there would be loads of shooting stars and it would be magical. He’d kiss me very gently and romantic music would suddenly appear in the background, like it does in the films …but then he’d have to go home.
Still smiling I would come in, go to bed and snuggle with all my animals (especially Basil) and fall asleep to dream about my Twitter crush and how happy I am.—–By Josi
It’s me again.
I’ve finally thought about my idea of a “perfect day”…it would be to make someone else have a Perfect Day.To make someone else happy.I’m far too old and miserable to enjoy myself….if I can bring joy into someone’s life,my son for example,then everyday will be perfect.
I would like to thank everyone who contributed to this blog.I hope you enjoyed it. :)——By Wyn


…so said Sir Michael Caine at the end of the cinematic masterpiece,The Italian Job.

Last night,I had a great idea….or a least it seemed like a great idea at the time–many people’s famous last words.

Here are the details.

I am about to launch my 50th blog update upon an unsuspecting world,and because,with me,it’s all about the numbers,I thought it would be a great idea (those words again) to celebrate this milestone by getting as many different bloggers/tweeters/aspiring authors to write about 150-200 words on a certain subject which I will compile into one blog—the aforementioned 50th.

But don’t worry…it’s not all about me….even though it should be 😉

It’s my way of having a day off doing something a little different.I think it will be interesting to have several different views on one particular subject….and that subject is…”Perfect Day.”

Whatever that means to you.

If you want to contribute,you can write your piece in the comments box for this post,or you can email it to ewl1971@googlemail.com so I have all the mini-blogs in one place.Keep them to about 200 words,so I can put about 10 of them in without the whole thing turning into War&Peace.To give you an idea,so far this is 200 words.

If I get enough I might do another one….if I don’t get any,I’ll probably cry.

There’s no big rush,but I would like to post the finished blog by about Tuesday.

Make me proud….I look forward to reading your work.

Thank you.

funny-dog-pictures-but-this-is-his-happy-faceIn the immortal words of Chris Tarrant,before he went rubbish…

TODAY IS SUNDAY,WAKE AND SCREAM.

Or it was something like that anyway.

More of that in a minute.

My lovely regular readers (wonderful peeps,all) will have noticed that recently I have been indulging my own creative whims rather a lot in this blog,to the detriment of more serious scribblings.

The truth is that I am a frustrated writer….frustrated in many ways really but especially as a writer.So I’ve decided to use this blog as a sort of test-bed to see if I can string more than a couple of sentences of fiction together and make a half-decent story.They say everyone has at least one novel in them and I want to see if I can discover mine among the cobwebs of my mind.

But this doesn’t mean that I will be giving up talking about myself and my life (does that sound self-centered?) completely.Indeed,as I read blogs by other people,I quickly realise that maybe I am not being serious enough.

I wouldn’t want my blog to become too frivolous.

I think I will just go with the flow…see how the fancy takes me.

So it is fitting that I am writing this on the most serious day of the week—the dreaded Sunday.

And my regulars will know what Sunday means…the Tesco trip.

I really must introduce the Mother Unit to the joys of online shopping.

I simply cannot hack that supermarket any longer…you’d think that one building couldn’t contain so many idiots.I wonder what it’s like to work there? The checkout chappies always seem quite happy…it’s just the punters who are on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

Although I must admit today’s trip was quite quick and easy…with sadly nothing to report.

Bugger.

And as if having a nice shopping trip wasn’t bad enough…I forgot Cup-A-Soups as well…AND the savoury rice was no longer on special offer.

Double bugger.

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My mother bought a new tellybox with freeview to replace the soon-to-be defunct one in the front room.2791297547_273aaefd2d

This involved a trip to Comet…not one of my favourite shops either.

We were quite happily perusing the TVs,weighing up the pros and cons,as you do..when we were suddenly accosted by an eager member of staff asking if we needed any help.

We said no….he hovered expectantly.

A few minutes later we DID need help….turn to look for the helpful staff chappy…

Yes,you’ve guessed it….he’s buggered off.

How do they do that? Are they all psychic….they know when you need help so that’s their cue to go and have a fag out the back?

Must be trained.

Also there was a fridge/freezer for sale which my uncle claimed could comfortably hold two bodies….he works for a funeral director so he’d know…it was one of those big American types with two doors.

All I’ve got in my fridge is milk and a packet of ham.

I have a bachelor’s fridge.

Hmmm..I’ve written nearly 500 words on bugger all….not bad.I’ll put it in the random drawer.

Time for a cuppa and a few custard creams which I did NOT forget to buy.

Until next time….Abyssinia!