I can't believe it's already Mid-October, I go off to sleep one evening and lose the best part of four weeks.
It's X-Factor season again, [Rant-Mode-Enabled] and do you know what... I couldn't give a flying fuck - its safe to say that I wouldn't piss on Jedwood if it was on fire! Please please if there is a big guy in the sky let the TweedyCole get bitten by something bigger next time like a fucking Tiger [the last great act of a dieing species]. Also a little known fact - well, little known to me - Simon Cowell is worth in excess of 350 million quid! Try to remember that as you franticly text vote for Sad-fuck-for-the-win - yes Mother that includes you, put the phone down.
[if you enjoy X-Fuctor I can recommend the blog of the "Un-working Girl" she loves it - one day I'm sure we will meet to exchange notes... It could happen!]
If someone is going to start some Facebook campaign for a Christmas Number One can we have something a little more traditional this year, don't get me wrong I very much enjoyed last years 'Killin in the Name of' but it was difficult to sing the kids to sleep with. Maybe, 'Down with the Sickness' - the Richard Cheese version? Or for something a little more traditional - Nat King Cole maybe?
Turkey was fantastic by the way, I recommend it wholeheartedly. There were of course a few things that perhaps could have been better but since most of these were other British tourists there was no point complaining to the resort management. How I giggled when I heard the fantastic comment,
"What! There's foreigners here?"
Yes you bloody idiot I believe it's you!
Lady Auburnville and myself looked at each other stunned when another Sterling Brit abroad complained the pool bar wasn't open yet, and then the whole group of them went out into the world to find a supermarket that would sell them beer. Why were we stunned at this obvious use of their initiative? Because it was 8.30am, and the pool bar opened at 10am. You couple this with the family that couldn't find anything to eat at the breakfast buffet apart from eggs - the kids all had boiled and the parents scrambled - when the buffet was a full continental breakfast: a mass of wonderful meats, cheeses and fresh fruit. There were also large bowls of cereals [the lack of cardboard boxes must have confused them] fresh bread, large bowls of preserves and honey, and every other day there were pancakes or eggy bread. It was almost enough to go berserk over.
There were complaints that there wasn't enough English food...
Why? I don't want bloody Mac D's [somehow McD has become a British staple] or fish and chips, you hideous waste of human life, I don't go abroad expecting a version of Britain where they've managed to find a virgin to sacrifice to the mighty Sun God. Speaking of which it was almost 40oC most days, in Britain if we have temperatures at that level we would probably expect to be witnessing the end of the world. But still there were bright pink Brits the same colour as their bikinis... and couple this with the strange activity of Brits sun bathing topless by the pool only to cover up to go for a swim... Oh and one last thing that amused me as a parent: if your child, when asked to do something like - 'Get out of the sun you're going to die!' says 'No!' and you threaten to discipline them, then please do. I know we don't all want to be thrashing our pride and joys to within an inch of their snotty wingeing high pitched screaming little lives... But you do have to follow through with the discipline otherwise you'll end up blaming the schools when they've turned into horrible little shitbags.[Rant-Mode-Disabled] And breathe...
In the words of Baz Luhrman 'Remember the sunscreen'
Until next time...
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