Treasure Maps, Christopher Lee and Molten Lava

It would appear my dreams are getting more and more surreal.  Last night I did not eat cheese before I went to bed and the film I watched was all about vampires and exsanguination* so there isn't even a connection there!!


I had lots of pictures that were secret treasure maps and was very excited to find the treasure because then I could do everything that I want to do without the financial worry of where my next bag of Haribo was coming from.


A couple of blokes were tagging along but, as usual, I was the one doing all the work and solving all the clues and being the first one to stick my arm in the black holes in trees to get the next clue.  Bit like doing the Crystal Maze all by myself - they didn't even carry my bag!

the Lee that is Christopher

Anyway, it turns out that someone (an evil queen I think) didn't want me to find the treasure so she put a spell on the road we were walking along and it started to break apart and reform into Christopher Lees head.  There was molten lava underneath and some of our treasure maps were being sucked in.  I jumped into the lava to rescue them saying to the blokes 'it's only lava, it's not that hot' but they stayed on the unbroken bit of road - fucking pussies!

very hot lava

As I was managing to save a bunch of the pictures, the road-head lifted up and started to fold in on itself (like when you fold an omlette - something I can never do without smashing it up and turning it into scrambled egg) as the road was folding Christopher Lee was laughing and taking more of my treasure maps with him.  I was so pissed off and angry that I didn't even notice my shoes and face were starting to melt from the 'not that hot lava'.


With sheer grit and determination, I saved another two maps and jumped out of the head-road and onto the normal road.


The following conversation ensued:

"Cool you got the maps, where do we go now for the next clue?"

"Excuse me?  If you think you are getting your hands on any of this treasure after your woeful display of manliness, you've got another think coming."

"But you'll need us to help you fight the 2-headed monster later." 

"Dude, I'm on my period, let's just wait and see who wins that one."

Then one of the men said he would only go out with me if I shared the treasure and changed the colour scheme in my bedroom.  I told him I didn't date gays. 


I then went on to do the rest of the treasure hunting by myself.

I have no idea if I found the treasure cos next thing, I found myself telling goblin stories to kids in a park and convincing them that a family of pixies lived in the magic tree...

*bleeding out, being bled to death

in a butchers shop

Please, Just Admit That You Work On The Waltzers

The dating site I'm on, although quite hilarious and great for one-woman show material, is really starting to get on my tits again.


I make it very clear in my profile that I am looking for a certain standard of intellect - call me picky if you like but so what...?


My profile states:


"If you don't know the difference between two, too and to or they're, there and their and how to use them effectively in a sentence, please don't expect a reply - I need to know you can read and write and have a conversation about more than football and engines. Please, no text speak either cos it hurts my head trying to decipher it, plus I'm not 12! I also like punctuation and the correct capitalisation of letters."


So, I get this from Mr Hilarious:


Random: "Hi hows u fancy a chat lol just joking hi am scott got all my own teeth you'r list of do's and donts' is a bit much are u an english teacher anyway would u like me to tell you what the offside rule is all about lol."  


Raw: "I am not an English teacher.  I am an attractive actress and business owner who drives her own Smart car called Bridget but, as you have used apostrophes in all the wrong places, have ignored my 'capitalisation of letters' rule, have used zero punctuation AND have communicated in mainly text speak, it has to be a no, sorry! Happy fishing :-)


Call me strict and old fashioned but for fuck sake, if someone can't adhere to the rules in a dating profile, even superficially, to get a date or a shag, they must be the laziest fucker known to man!  Seriously, could he not have googled 'apostrophes' or 'punctuation' to try and get his first email right?


Blokes, I have decided, are lazy.  A generalisation?  Yes, but a pretty true one!


I was married to a lazy fucker and appear to be attracting lazy fuckers.  There is nothing in my profile that suggests I'm a lazy fucker so clearly something is wrong.  I'm wondering if blokes are using the 'scattergun' approach to dating.  I'm wondering if blokes think my profile is a joke and I'm really Waynetta Slob working on the waltzers...waiting for the next giro to come in.


Seriously men, you gotta get with the programme.  I'd rather be on my own with a cat than spend my days reading 'Dick & Jane' and 'Spot the Dog' to you cos you only know 8 words...


Just saying :-)

My Dad & Princess Di

This post is not all about them...but it kind of is...

Right, so, my Dad was cool.

My Dad was the one to chaperone Diana round the ship.  He's the one in the uniform behind her.

My Dad was the one chatting to Prince Charles in the 'mess'

My Dad was the one who said 'it's better than a slap around the belly with a wet fish' to Charles.  My Dad was the one to steal the glass that Charles drank his tomato juice out of.

My Dad died on my 19th birthday.  Any fucking need?

I didn't really get to properly appreciate his humour and that pisses me off.  Although I did get to see him dressed as a pelican and a giant bumble bee!

This pic was taken the day my Dad got his long service medal from The Navy.  We got the day off school.  We were so proud.

I remember once, he picked me up from an under 18 disco, in a Superman cape and a deerstalker hat.  Shouting at me from across the car park.  He wasn't being cool at the time, he was just being a twat, but he was cool before I (and he) understood it was cool. If he did that to me now I would piss myself laughing!

If my Dad was still alive I would never have married Jonathan and guaranteed he would have found my rapist and buried him in concrete (PS thanks Paddy for the open ended offer).

If my Dad was still alive I would laugh more than I do at the moment and I would probably never have had a breakdown.  He would be telling me not to be a twat and to chill the fuck out.  He would tell me that life is too short and you should spend your non-work time bouncing Mars Bars off the heads of people you like, a lot!

That was basically his mantra -  bouncing stuff of people's noggings and running about pretending to be Dempsey & Makepeace with water pistols...

Am so sorry you're not here Pops :-((

If Mr Miyagi Had A Love Child With A Carny...

Right, in my wisdom (and to get more material for my one-woman show) I have made the decision to go live again with my dating site profile...


...on Plenty of Pish.com (plentyoffish.com) - this is, pretty much, a disaster waiting to happen!


My profile went live again on 1st April (yes, intentionally) and, so far, I've been called rude TWICE!  Now, I take exception to this as there is nothing in my profile whatsoever that would suggest that I am either a) romantic b) desperate.  However, when prospective suitors regale me with their 'could you be the one' pish, it comes as a surprise when I tell them that a) I'm not interested and b) when asked, I tell them WHY I'm not interested.   Why would you say that I could be 'THE ONE' in your FIRST email?  Who ARE these people?  


So, to set the record straight for those of you reading this thinking...


'...what a cow, she IS on a dating site after all...' 


yes I'm on a DATING site.  Exactly what it says on the tin!  


I'm not on a 'meet the love of your life' site or a 'meet the future father of your children site' or a 'meet the man you want to have really hot amazing sex with twice a week for the rest of your days with' site. So let's chill the fuck out!


Here is my profile so you can see for yourselves.


Also, if someone emails you with the exact wording, which you have stated in your profile you would ignore, should it be a shock that you a) ignore their email b) ignore their winks?  No, thought not, but apparently it's a no no.  The etiquette is to reply to ANYONE who emails you.  Fuck that!  It just encourages them.  There can be no room for sympathy emails on dating sites - you could end up with a stalker.


But, apparently, it's rude not to reply to people "who have taken the time to make contact, this is a tricky business you know and hearts can be broken".  Oh for fuck sake.  The site is called plentyoffish.com and asks what sort of fish you are.  Seriously!  I could understand if it was a 'pay per view site' like match.com or affinity.com or findyoursoulmatebyfillinginlotsofdeepandmeaningfulquestions.com BUT IT'S NOT!  I don't pay to be on Plenty of Fish, therefore I have an expectation that the wheat has not yet been sorted from the chaff and it's up to me to whittle things down.  If you're gonna bitch at me in the first email because I am true to my profile, sorry mate, it's a no go!


In the time I've been dotting in and out writing this blog the following conversations have occurred (ps these will make more sense if you have read my profile!)

----

If Mr Miyagi Had A Love Child With A Carny...

GoCee: Your last sentense say "honest guy"...does that mean you're a guy trying out been a girl?...I'm just asking because I'm curious...hope that's okay? :(

Raw: I have no idea what you're on about!

GoCee: Please look/check your own profile at the very bottom and you will notice you said "Honest Guy" instead of "Honest Girl"...or should it be "Honest Psycho". :)

Raw:  Ya div - it's in inverted commas!

GoCee: Wow, how rude?

GoCee:  Oh...I see, my mistake, ignore rude message, so you don't believe a guy likes to cuddle up in a sofa with a bottle of wine and watch a DVD...not that I do as I don't have a telly. So what do you think guys do on a nights in? :)

Raw: Argh, you're doing my head in, I meant it's cos it's an unoriginal sentence. Did your telly get repossessed? My point was that if that sentence was in your profile I wouldn't send you a message as it's unoriginal!! Argh!!  By the way, I'm probably not going to write to you anymore. 

GoCee: What?!...that is soooo wrong, you a rude, some guys may just "like" cuddling up on a sofa with a bottle (or can) and watch blu-ray (DVD's are sooo 90s!)...so you saying we "can't" to gain your interest?

Raw: why is it wrong? It's my profile I can write what I like! And yes, I'm saying we can't! Plus if you have Blu-Ray you prob have a telly, ya liar!  Happy fishing.

GoCee: I'm just having a bit a fun to see if I can get you to change your profile...and yes you can write whatever you like and shouldn't let anyone say otherwise. Nice chatting, happy fishing too. :)

GoCee has since been blocked for being annoying!

----

bob joylove: interesting....but I am a space hopper gold medalist and I glide with trolleys in all supermarket settings :)

Raw: space hopper gold medalist? I'm already scared!

bob joylove: indeed!!! however, I can offer coaching sessions on technique, ps. bouncy castles are what you should really fear...

Raw: hang on - are you talking about the space hoppers that you sit on, hold the handles and bounce up and down on or the ones you stand on and bounce on?

bob joylove: The sitty ones, also, I've randomly had to risk assess a huge 40 foot long inflatable bouncy castle like thingy and it gave me the fear! :)

Raw: 40ft long! Isn't that more just an inflatable rectangle?

bob joylove: sort of yes but was an inflatable obstacle course where kids or indeed adults have to race ( should really be for kids though) over the hurdles and squeeze through vegetables and get to the velcro wall to get a healthy object and return to win.

Raw: WOW! What an exciting life you lead!  PS am good on the stand-on space hopper but would do myself damage on a pogo stick  PPS you'll notice I've pulled both email strands into one cos I can't be arsed with 6 different strands talking about different things!

bob joylove: ha...funny I just actually took the time to read your whole profile in full and interrupted my viewing of 'come dine with me' as I only made it to the trolleys in ASDA mention on your list and now can't believe how lucky you are that I sent you a message.  I have not been on this site for quite a while and clicked on the 'meet me' tab and for some reason every picture of girls with no doubt great personalities all seem to look a bit like grotbags from emu's world. Is this who the plenty of fish hosts feel I should be targeting?

Raw: I'm a fan of Grotbags!

bob joylove: by the way don't buy a pennywhistle from the pound shop....it's a rip off

Raw: so are the 'moustaches for every day of the week' they fall off!

bob joylove: well its been emotional...farewell for now. I am off to be a egghead at the Crown quiz or at least join a team who know random things about things. Ciao madam

____

So, that's what I've had so far really.  WOW!  My ovaries are quivering at the thought of a possible insemination - NOT!  Ooft.

I've had convos with a couple of decents too but I'm not putting them on here in case I end up marrying them - not sure I could cope with the ensuing drama!

The Curious Case of the Disappearing Key Cutting Shop

Well, my day started reasonably normally.

I woke up had a coffee, a wee and a chat with myself and then wrote up my latest dream which in itself was ridiculous so I should have known the day wouldn't go swimmingly!

At 0920 I left the house to take Bridget to the car doctor for her MOT.  I dropped her off at 0930, gave her a wee kiss and headed off to kill time for an hour before going to pick her up.

Remembering I needed to get some keys cut for the flat, I popped into a shop which was kind of like a pikey version of something you would find in Diagon Alley.  An old man with a fag hanging out of his mouth (a cigarette, not a nubile young man for my US readers) greeted me with a grunt and a wave of a hand which had been beautifully manicured at Manky Grimey Fingernails.com

I asked him how much it would be to cut my keys and he said 'what?' I thought for a second I had wandered into a dental practice by mistake, but after a second glance allowed me to clock the key cutting machine I realised he was probably just deaf so I shouted 'how much to cut my keys' 'alright, I'm not deaf he said'.  Hhmmm.  I told him I wanted 2 sets - I repeated everything twice, but he absolutely is not deaf!  I asked him if he would do a discount for a double set and, in true Scottish fashion, he wrinkled his nose and said 'I'll take 50p off'.  Oh well, can't say fairer than that!

I left all my keys with him not convinced he would actually cut the right ones and headed off to kill an hour, thinking about poor wee Bridget being poked and prodded by all those men.  Lucky cow.

I wandered into the charity shops, of which there are about 86 on Leith Walk.  I bought 3 books, a chest of drawers and a lava lamp all for 8 pence.

Kwik Fit phoned me.  Bridget had failed her MOT.  How could this be?  I asked what she failed on - I kid you not:

• sat nav holder is too high on the windscreen
• headlight beam is a bit too low
• she has a cut in THE NEW TIRE THAT I JUST BOUGHT A MONTH AGO

Okay, the tire is unlucky but I get that.  But the other 2 things - for fuck sake!  The sat nav holder is removeable and can just be taken off.  The headlight beam is a fucking design issue.

So, not only had I just wasted 8 pence in charity shops for the sake of it, I now had to cancel my horse riding lesson for Sat morning cos I've no car to get there!  Smart car tires take a day to order - any need?!

So, in a rage, I stomped back to the shop to pick up my keys.

Where was the shop?  It had disappeared!  How can a shop, complete with old man, just disappear?

I walked up and down the length of Leith Walk 3 FECKING TIMES and could not find this bastarding shop.  With my rage rising and the risk to the public increasing, I started phoning all my mates to ask them to do an internet search for key cutters on Leith Walk.  But, hey ho no-one was answering their phone and my iPhone doesn't get internet properly on Leith Walk.  Fuck sake.  The rage was making me hyperventilate.  Finally I got hold of Paul who googled for me and finally I found the wee man and his shite shop.  He forgot he said he'd give me a 50p discount, so in true Scots fashion, I argued with him til he took it off my bill.

3 hours and a 7 mile walk to get keys cut and drop your car off for an MOT - any need for that?

I should be provided with a carer and never allowed back out by myself!

Eyeball Stabbing With a Cuticle Trimmer!

Wow, had THE weirdest dream so far last night!  


I was talking to my mate about this knobhead I used to know and it was decided that I would direct the next play he was due to be in so that he could be told to stop being a knobhead.


I turned up and ended up having to be IN the play as well and had to be 'comedy partners' with a robot dwarf.  That in itself sounds funny but he was really dour and had no personality or sense of humour and he was a nightmare to work with.  Knobhead was horrific so I told him what I thought of him and his attitude and he ran away before I could finish my sentence.  I chased him through a canteen (a cafe not a water container) and then onto a beach.  A bunch of lads I went to youth theatre with back in the day turned up to help me chase him and they were all dressed in identical tank tops and trouser combos.


We lost knobhead so decided to go back to the hotel for dinner (dunno where the hotel suddenly came from).  I went a different way back than the boys and ended up walking down Queensferry Road (Edinburgh) and taking a short cut which meant walking on the grass then squeezing down the side of a building with some other women - it was touch and go wether we would get stuck or not!


I finally made it back to the hotel and was given Clifford and Elizabeths room to change in.  As I was chatting to the women cleaning the room I found a photo of my ex-husband and his new bint.  I asked the cleaners if it was Clifford and Elizabeth.  It was!  OMG!  I told the cleaners who they really were and that they must be up to no good if they'd checked into a hotel using fake names.


'Elizabeth' came back to the room and the look of panic on her face was awesome!  'Clifford' came into the room and tried to stop me telling the cleaning ladies what he was really like.  He said he was going to attack me.  I threatened to stab him in the eyeballs if he did.  He attacked so I stabbed - in the eyeballs with a cuticle trimmer!  He attacked me again so this time I stabbed him in the side with one of those scraper things you use to get hard skin off your feet.


I finished packing my bag and getting changed and then left them to it to go and have dinner with all the folks from youth theatre.


I had beef olives and a glass of Merlot.