Election Part II

April 26, 2010

The other day I was busily googling the Monster Raving Loony Party when Mattgreen walked in. He glanced at my screen.

Mattgreen: What are you looking at that for?
Me: I wanted to find out the name of their famous leader.
Mattgreen: It's Screaming Lord Sutch isn't it?
Me: Yes, I've found that out now. Did you know he died?
Mattgreen: No...
Me: Yeah... he killed himself. I never knew that. Also did you know that after he died, the party was the first in history to be jointly led. The leadership election was a tie between some bloke and his cat?
Mattgreen: I did not know that.
Me: Also did you know that some of their policies have actually become law? Like all-day pub opening.. and ...
Mattgreen: Why are you looking at this?
Me: Oh! It was because I was driving home from work today and I saw one of those huge massive billboards outside someone's house. It was bright pink with yellow writing and it reminded me of the Monster Raving Loonies, and it was annoying me that I couldn't remember Lord Sutch's name.
Mattgreen: (disbelieving) You saw a Monster Raving Loony billboard? On your way home from work?
Me: Noooo... it was for those other loonies, you know, UKIP? The ones that have that nutter who's a bit like Jerry Springer, you know, what's his name...?
Mattgreen: Robert Kilroy-Silk?
Me: Yes! That's the guy, now he really IS a raving loony.


April 24, 2010

Whenever anybody shoves anything to do with the election through our door, I keep it. I've got a pile of leaflets from different parties on our dining room table. This is so I can read them over dinner and also so Mattgreen can see them if he's interested.

The other day I noticed that the one from the Liberal Democrats hadn't just been shoved through the door, it had actually been addressed and mailed to Mattgreen.

More worryingly, the one from the Conservatives had been addressed and sent to ME! I pointed this out to Mattgreen with my frowny face on.

Alicey: Where did they get my address from?
Mattgreen: It's because you're a raging Tory.
Alicey: NO. Maybe they share mailing lists with Boden or Ocado. (laughs loudly) I'm only half joking.
Mattgreen: Maybe it's because you looooooooooooooove David Cameron. You and Davey Wavey...
Alicey: Shut up, shut up, shut up!
Mattgreen: You want Dave to ... (deleted for moral decency)
Alicey: I FEEL SICK!

Mattgreen loves it when he manages to make me feel sick. It stems from that time when he was eating melon yoghurt (urgh) and said "try this, it's really nice," and I put a spoonful in my mouth and nearly died.

I expect I'll post more about the election as it's a hot topic in our house, but in the meantime you might enjoy this. It even made Mattgreen shriek, "What are you watching THAT for?" before he saw what it was.

Killer blancmange

April 23, 2010

This morning, our kitchen. I am flicking through 'A Passion for Puddings' trying to decide which one to make this week.

Alicey: Vanilla blancmange with saffron syrup ... it says it serves eight. Can you eat eight of those?
Mattgreen: Yep.
Alicey: (musing) I don't think I ever would've made this if it wasn't one of my new year's resolutions. Blancmange can be dangerous.

By this, I meant that blancmange can go wrong pretty easily, so it's not a recipe I'd make for guests without trying it out first. As I rarely make pudding unless we're having guests, this recipe was unlikely to ever see the light of day.

Mattgreen: Yeah, I was watching something about that on Sky3 the other night. 'When Blancmange Attacks,' I think it was called. Did you know that more people die every year from being attacked by blancmange than from accidents in the home?
Alicey: I think you might have got your stats wrong.

Carrier bag wielding shambler, part two

April 17, 2010

Izzy's been staying at her grandparents all week, so on Thursday Mattgreen and I walked to work together. I was going to the gym after work but because I also had my heavy work bag, I'd put my gym kit into a carrier bag.

As soon as we set off, I palmed off my carrier bag onto Mattgreen.

He took two steps then said, "Hi!" and rustled the carrier bag loudly.
He added, "I love you!" and rustled the carrier bag loudly.
I suggested maybe he should start lurking about in the local alleyway.

He rustled the bag loudly and said in dirty old man voice, "Anyone fancy a game of Agricola?"!


Carrier bag wielding shambler, part one

April 15, 2010

The carrier bag wielding shambler is a certain kind of person. Usually male, he is often found at games conventions, shops or tournaments. He can be middle-aged and overweight or young, weedy and geeky. He will always be carrying a particularly rustley sort of carrier bag, half-filled with random items.

Mattgreen met the original carrier bag wielding shambler and coined the phrase back when we used to play Magic: The Gathering. Since then he has encountered many more and the term is regularly used in our house to refer to such types. Incidentally, Mattgreen has a curious hatred of rustling carrier bags and refuses to use them.

The other day I was coming home from the gym at ten o'clock at night when I spotted a carrier bag wielding shambler up ahead. He saw me, then stopped. He appeared to be waiting for me to pass him, just before the entrance to the underpass. I hesitated, then decided to take a detour to be on the safe side, so I walked up to the main road instead of going past him and into the underpass.

I stood by the main road, trying to think of an alternative route that wasn't loads longer, but couldn't come up with one. I wondered how long I should wait before going through the underpass? Then suddenly a young guy listening to an ipod came past me and headed down the slope towards the underpass.

I thought, 'Great, I can just follow him and he'll protect me from the shambler!' and set off after him. Unfortunately he was walking really quickly and I was having trouble keeping up. The path was quite twisty and I didn't want to be left behind, so I started to hurry slightly. The bloke started walking faster, so I started going even faster too until I was almost jogging after him. It occurred to me that he might think that I was the nutter, hanging around on main roads and then chasing people through underpasses. Luckily the shambler was nowhere to be seen and I got home in one piece. Phew! High drama eh?

More on carrier bag wielding shamblers soon - I bet you can't wait!

Tattoo update

April 04, 2010

Last weekend I had my tattoo re-done. I was adamant that I wanted it done somewhere reputable and the only place that had been personally recommended was Woody's in High Wycombe. So that's where I went.

As an aside, it really was the nicest tattoo place I've ever been to - hygenic, friendly and thoroughly professional. I can't recommend it highly enough - if you're going to have something ON YOUR BODY for the REST OF YOUR LIFE, why the fuck would you have it done in some dodgy skanky little back street? Go somewhere decent FFS!

Anyway, I got there at 9.30am even though they didn't open until 10am because I wanted to make sure I got an appointment. When I arrived I was fourth in the queue - the girl at the front had been there since 8am. By the time the shop opened, there were about a dozen people in the queue which immediately filled the whole day's timetable. Anyone who just turned up speculatively during the day was turned away.

Directly in front of me was an older couple. The man had several tattoos, the lady had never had one before but had decided to take the plunge in honour of their recent wedding anniversary. She was having their initials tattooed on her hip. My appointment wasn't until 1pm so we wandered off round the town and came back at 12.45 when hers was almost finished. I chatted to the man for a while until hers was done, then they said goodbye and went off happily.

The receptionist (who was loud and bouncy and full of enthusiasm, just the sort of girl who I find immensely likeable) waved them off. After they'd gone, she announced to the tattooists and their clients: "Aww, what a lovely couple! They seem very happy together, they're still really into each other. I'd love to be like that at their age!"

One of the tattooists, a quiet guy with a ponytail who had up until that moment been completely silent, suddenly spoke up. He had a heavy European accent and spoke quietly. He said, "I vould like to vatch them..."

The receptionist turned on him in mock-horror. "You FILTHY old man!" she shrieked, "You shut your MOUTH!" The rest of the shop exploded into laughter.

This page is powered by Blogger. Isn't yours?

web counter