Karma
Sue Denham writes, "I once slipped out of work two hours early without the boss noticing. In my hurry to make the most of this petty victory, I knocked myself out on the car door and spent the rest of the day semi-conscious, bowking rich brown vomit over my one and only suit."
Have you been visited by the forces of Karma, or watched it happen to other people?
Thanks to Pooflake for the suggestion
( , Thu 21 Feb 2008, 14:24)
Sue Denham writes, "I once slipped out of work two hours early without the boss noticing. In my hurry to make the most of this petty victory, I knocked myself out on the car door and spent the rest of the day semi-conscious, bowking rich brown vomit over my one and only suit."
Have you been visited by the forces of Karma, or watched it happen to other people?
Thanks to Pooflake for the suggestion
( , Thu 21 Feb 2008, 14:24)
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Salad Cream
Mrs Legless has inspired me to share this 'tale'. All my love goes to my mate Legless and his lovely warm good Greek woman :o)
During the early to mid 90's I did my Shirley Valentine bit and went to live on a Greek island. Fell for the people / lifestyle / philosophy / kultcha / kooysine / language / customs / nuances / the whole kit & kaboodle. My heart truly belonged there, and more importantly, so did my soul. I decided to settle there permanently. Found the most charming apartment by the sea (with it's very own amusing tales - not relevant to this week's Q). One aspect of living there never ceased to amaze me, and not one morning went by when I didn't marvel at the view from my sweary bedroom window. I could open the sun shutters, lie back down on my scratcher, and look out over the Agean Sea to Turkey beyond. Turkey was so close that on a a clear day I could even see the traffic moving along its coast.
So as not to bibble on too much, life was a bow(e)l of cherries! I shared the apartment with my bestest and only English friend (who is now Vice Consul for the island - I remember asking how the hell she'd got that job, to which her reply was, "I applied for the fucker, didn't I?!")
Puppies ensued - again another story in itself - ah, my beloved Gorby....
*sniff*
*bigger sniff*
*fuckin this sleeve just doesn't have enough surface area for the absorbancy required*
During the next chapter, I met my Dream Man, to match the dream life. (Apart from living hand-to-mouth & struggling to buy new underwear.) Stelios was from the mainland, not at all in-bred, oh no, he was bringing new blood to the island.
We fell in love and all that shit & shebang. Come winter time, it was easy enough for me to find / continue work but not so for him. So we moved to his home city on t'mainland, Thessaloniki. By then, he'd proposed and I was up the duff.
Twas a rocky-and-a-half pregnancy, touch and go from one hour to the next if I might have a miscarriage. Had to take hormone tablets to keep my blit -sorry, I mean cervix - closed. Cue hormones, stress, arranging a wedding. decorating & furnishing new apartment.
Then, for no apparent reason, one night I was torn from our bed by the hair, thrown semi-naked into the street and had 27 colours of shit kicked out of me. Where the fuck did that come from? What in spunky bell-end's name had I done to provoke that? Having my head mashed into a brick wall etc.
The embryo/foetus/baby Tourettes had by then been incubating in the proverbial oven for 3 months. Methinks, "If daddy-darling can do this to me in our current state, it is tantamount to beating the baby/child."
Like the Harp lager advertisement, I was off. Time for a sharp exit. Fucked off in quicksticks, belly & I did.
And here follows The Happy Ending....
I'm not sure about karma, but I am a true believer in Fate. I believe everything in a person's life happens for a reason. What doesn't kill you makes you stronger and all that.
If Stelios hadn't pulverised me when he did (2 weeks before our wedding) I wouldn't have left him. Therefore I would never have returned to Blighty. And regained a smidgeon of sanity. And met Davros' Granddad who restored my faith in human nature. Taught me to love and how to be loved, right through to the bone, warts 'n' all. This man really is my true love, my soul-mate in this life. I have never loved anyone, apart from my son (which is a love in a category of its own) so much as I do DG. I love him from the nucleus of every cell in my body. He warms the darkest cockle recesses of my wizened heart like Crabbie's Green Ginger wine on the frostiest of winter's days. I melt when he snuggles up for a snog... just before I close me eyes I see the creases outside his and the loving twinkle within. Makes me wilt fizzingly within his embrase...*
Like so many others, I am the product of a highly disfunctional / fucked up childhood. I remember watching the advertisement for Heinz salad cream in my late teens / early 20's. The one with the Nice Non-dysfunctional family co-operating nicely over a barbeque. Twas always my dream to be part of such a family...
And now I am living that salad cream dream - with my bestest-beloved Davros, the most fab son and the dog with the mostest specialistist needs...
Have just spent the smashingest Sunday and birthday with my very own salad cream family :o)
*should I apologise for being so smushy? Promise to soon resume to my 3.5 tattoo sweary posts?......?
Should I soapy-tit-wank fuckstick!!!
( , Mon 25 Feb 2008, 0:41, 10 replies)
Mrs Legless has inspired me to share this 'tale'. All my love goes to my mate Legless and his lovely warm good Greek woman :o)
During the early to mid 90's I did my Shirley Valentine bit and went to live on a Greek island. Fell for the people / lifestyle / philosophy / kultcha / kooysine / language / customs / nuances / the whole kit & kaboodle. My heart truly belonged there, and more importantly, so did my soul. I decided to settle there permanently. Found the most charming apartment by the sea (with it's very own amusing tales - not relevant to this week's Q). One aspect of living there never ceased to amaze me, and not one morning went by when I didn't marvel at the view from my sweary bedroom window. I could open the sun shutters, lie back down on my scratcher, and look out over the Agean Sea to Turkey beyond. Turkey was so close that on a a clear day I could even see the traffic moving along its coast.
So as not to bibble on too much, life was a bow(e)l of cherries! I shared the apartment with my bestest and only English friend (who is now Vice Consul for the island - I remember asking how the hell she'd got that job, to which her reply was, "I applied for the fucker, didn't I?!")
Puppies ensued - again another story in itself - ah, my beloved Gorby....
*sniff*
*bigger sniff*
*fuckin this sleeve just doesn't have enough surface area for the absorbancy required*
During the next chapter, I met my Dream Man, to match the dream life. (Apart from living hand-to-mouth & struggling to buy new underwear.) Stelios was from the mainland, not at all in-bred, oh no, he was bringing new blood to the island.
We fell in love and all that shit & shebang. Come winter time, it was easy enough for me to find / continue work but not so for him. So we moved to his home city on t'mainland, Thessaloniki. By then, he'd proposed and I was up the duff.
Twas a rocky-and-a-half pregnancy, touch and go from one hour to the next if I might have a miscarriage. Had to take hormone tablets to keep my blit -sorry, I mean cervix - closed. Cue hormones, stress, arranging a wedding. decorating & furnishing new apartment.
Then, for no apparent reason, one night I was torn from our bed by the hair, thrown semi-naked into the street and had 27 colours of shit kicked out of me. Where the fuck did that come from? What in spunky bell-end's name had I done to provoke that? Having my head mashed into a brick wall etc.
The embryo/foetus/baby Tourettes had by then been incubating in the proverbial oven for 3 months. Methinks, "If daddy-darling can do this to me in our current state, it is tantamount to beating the baby/child."
Like the Harp lager advertisement, I was off. Time for a sharp exit. Fucked off in quicksticks, belly & I did.
And here follows The Happy Ending....
I'm not sure about karma, but I am a true believer in Fate. I believe everything in a person's life happens for a reason. What doesn't kill you makes you stronger and all that.
If Stelios hadn't pulverised me when he did (2 weeks before our wedding) I wouldn't have left him. Therefore I would never have returned to Blighty. And regained a smidgeon of sanity. And met Davros' Granddad who restored my faith in human nature. Taught me to love and how to be loved, right through to the bone, warts 'n' all. This man really is my true love, my soul-mate in this life. I have never loved anyone, apart from my son (which is a love in a category of its own) so much as I do DG. I love him from the nucleus of every cell in my body. He warms the darkest cockle recesses of my wizened heart like Crabbie's Green Ginger wine on the frostiest of winter's days. I melt when he snuggles up for a snog... just before I close me eyes I see the creases outside his and the loving twinkle within. Makes me wilt fizzingly within his embrase...*
Like so many others, I am the product of a highly disfunctional / fucked up childhood. I remember watching the advertisement for Heinz salad cream in my late teens / early 20's. The one with the Nice Non-dysfunctional family co-operating nicely over a barbeque. Twas always my dream to be part of such a family...
And now I am living that salad cream dream - with my bestest-beloved Davros, the most fab son and the dog with the mostest specialistist needs...
Have just spent the smashingest Sunday and birthday with my very own salad cream family :o)
*should I apologise for being so smushy? Promise to soon resume to my 3.5 tattoo sweary posts?......?
Should I soapy-tit-wank fuckstick!!!
( , Mon 25 Feb 2008, 0:41, 10 replies)
I think we'll re-phrase that to "bloody Greek men" . . .
seeing as Tourette's and I are both of hellenic extraction, and everyone knows Greek women have naaasty tempers!!!!
Hugs to you Tourette's and Davros' Grandad - you both found each other after some nasty false starts.
Happy Birthday for Sunday too !!!
Oh yeah - Stelios - eisai kathiki . . .
(let's see the swear filter block *that* one)
( , Mon 25 Feb 2008, 4:07, closed)
seeing as Tourette's and I are both of hellenic extraction, and everyone knows Greek women have naaasty tempers!!!!
Hugs to you Tourette's and Davros' Grandad - you both found each other after some nasty false starts.
Happy Birthday for Sunday too !!!
Oh yeah - Stelios - eisai kathiki . . .
(let's see the swear filter block *that* one)
( , Mon 25 Feb 2008, 4:07, closed)
Rub it in why don't you.
Now I feel alone and unloved and incredibly jealous :(
( , Mon 25 Feb 2008, 10:03, closed)
Now I feel alone and unloved and incredibly jealous :(
( , Mon 25 Feb 2008, 10:03, closed)
@ Mrs Legless
lol - I love swearing because it is rude and funny!
You're absolutely right though, swearing in Greek is so much more imaginative & sincere :o)
(she just called my ex a chamber-pot / scumbag)
( , Mon 25 Feb 2008, 10:06, closed)
lol - I love swearing because it is rude and funny!
You're absolutely right though, swearing in Greek is so much more imaginative & sincere :o)
(she just called my ex a chamber-pot / scumbag)
( , Mon 25 Feb 2008, 10:06, closed)
Aw.
Wish I could do like that. Luvs to thee and thine. No poly g's neither ay.
( , Mon 25 Feb 2008, 10:53, closed)
Wish I could do like that. Luvs to thee and thine. No poly g's neither ay.
( , Mon 25 Feb 2008, 10:53, closed)
yay, woo, possibly a tad of huopla, but not too much, 'cos that would spoil it.
Yay for snoggage!
( , Tue 26 Feb 2008, 12:55, closed)
Yay for snoggage!
( , Tue 26 Feb 2008, 12:55, closed)
Well, you know what we say in America...
"Fuck 'em if they can't take a joke"
i.e. Kiss my fluffy pink butt, you ungrateful sonovabitch.
What a turd. He and Legless' ex should hook up. Maybe they'd torture each other to death.
Glad you're all right, my dear.
( , Wed 27 Feb 2008, 6:00, closed)
"Fuck 'em if they can't take a joke"
i.e. Kiss my fluffy pink butt, you ungrateful sonovabitch.
What a turd. He and Legless' ex should hook up. Maybe they'd torture each other to death.
Glad you're all right, my dear.
( , Wed 27 Feb 2008, 6:00, closed)
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