Monday, December 13, 2010

Bleeting and Braying

The shy and retiring lady from Baltimore has been bleeting - this apparently is a cross between blogging and tweeting, a thought that is too long for a tweet but too short for a blog.  She has tagged me to come up with some bleets of my own, but as everyone knows donkeys don't bleat they bray, still any excuse for a rant or two eh. I'm narky and bad tempered this Monday morn due to staying up late Dirty Dancing, the watching thereof not the partaking in, good Lord, I'd slip a disk a something, so it feels apt to relieve myself of some bile and bray like the knackered, bad tempered mule that I am.


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Whilst shopping the other day in my local supermarket I set off the alarm walking through the doors because the checkout lady hadn't removed the security tag off an item of shopping.  What was this item of shopping?  An expensive hair product? A luxurious moisturiser? A packet of re-mortgage your home Gillette razor blades? A bottle of gin?  No.  It was in fact a packet of 3 cream of chicken cup-a-soups. Are times are so hard for the average Catalan in El Crisis that he taken to half-inching powdered soups by the truck load?  I doubt it somehow.
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Christmas Presents; yes I know I've left it late but seriously Leapfrog, why the hell have you flooded the market with pink Leapster Explorers and only put out a handful of the either gender-friendly green.  I have searched every toy shop known to man and everyone has sold out.  Except... Play.com however, if you think that just because you're the only retailer with good sense to buy an equal number of the pink and green gives you license to charge £30 more for the product than anyone else then you can kiss my lily-white arse.  I will buy my boy pink!
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Speaking of Christmas presents, why am I unable to think of what I would like other people to buy me.  If I can't get my act together than I will just receive a load of old tat like I do every year.  Bloody hell, it's not like I've got loads of stuff.
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ANyone who haS been inTeracting witH Me this week on twitTer will HAVe Noticed mY tweetS LookinG A LitTle bit Like This.  To Be FAir on rare occASions I MAY tweet whilSt under THe inFLuenCe of CataLonia'S finesT white wines (like most FridAy nights), but for once wine hAS nothinG To Do with My inability to type in The correct letter caSe.  No, My onLY 4 montH old laptop has Decided To plAY silly BeggArs and I now have to Spend a fucKinG inordinate time re-writing AND editinG everyTHinG I Type.

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Of course I cannot find the receipt anywhere, nor have I kept any emails detailing the ordering and buying of the bloody thing from Dixons because I am a useless moron.  Unless my Nectar statement can be used as proof of purchase, I am going to have to send it to a HP repair centre when back in the UK and because it's Xmas it's unlikely that they will be able to fix it and return it in such a tight timescale.

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The wind is blowing the wrong way this morning and the whole village smells of chicken shit.  Actually that could have been a tweet, I may yet share this with the twitterverse.

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Does anyone else feel like they are back in the 80's, only 20 years older and 20lbs heavier?  Civil unrest, student riots, industrial action, Tories, tosser comedians using cheap gags, shit chart music, shoulder pads, royal wedding tat... All we need is a re-run of Dallas and we're back there.

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Carpets - oh how I miss thee. This could also have been a tweet!

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Right that's my load unburdened, if you fancy having a go then be my guest, my keyboard is playing up too much for me to start linking folk.