Now you see it..............

Popped into Claire Dannel's joint on the way back from ASDA to have a piece of toast. I had done some shopping and put it into the boot of the car, locked and all accounted for, to the last piece.

Upon leaving said daughter's hoose imagine my utter amazement to find that certain items of merchandise were missing, gone, AWOL, flew away, appropriated. This could not be, said he. It was locked when I left it, and locked when I went out to it again.

I spoke to Claire regarding my alarm but she put all things to rights. She explained about the 'Robin Hood Fairy' who takes from the rich and gives to the poor, not everything from the rich but nearly everything. It dawned on me that she had to be right. Not wanting to upset the lah lahs of the fairy kingdom I went back to ASDA and replenished the boot.

Note to self..remember that there are more Robin Hood Fairies at Becky's house than Claires.

Then I just went home and had a Slim Fast bananeeee flavour. I heard there was a new product called 'Slim Faster ya Bass' and comes with a wee letter from brother Pol Pot 'encouraging' customers.

bye mae looves

ASDA's very own Miss Whiplash

I lived through the 'Swingin' Sixties' and still remember the fashions of the day. But one I remember most was the false eyelashes. Even the women wore them. There seems to be a growing trend now for more women to be buying and using them.

I was in ASDA last week and I spied, an ASDA employee, female abt 19, wearing a pair of the longest false eyelashes I have ever seen. And she smells like a walking can of 'Cherry Blossom' They are that heavy her back arches back the way causing her to walk 'dead gallous' like one of those fools from hell in the World Wrestling Federation. They walk down the ramp swinging their huge frames from side to side. And if you've ever watched it have you wondered why they always shout?

I digress, so here's 'Miss Whiplash' strutting her stuff in the deep freeze area. Moving closer I can see white blotches on the lashes. This is glue of course (obviously a new fashion)

Enter a young fellah who has a face that seems to have been slashed several times in a vertical manner. He engages the lovely Miss Whiplash in lighthearted banter and then she kisses him goodbye. That's sweet, obviously 'in a relationship'

Awwwwwwwwww

I notice his face is bleeding now from the early stages of 'The Death by a Thousand Cuts'

I mean, where do you put the 2" long eyelashes when you're kissing your man?

Bye mae looves

Adjel, the wannabe executioner

Imagine this. Rogeeee has low back pain. Hot baths..no good. Heated bean bag..no good. Pack of frozen peas..no good. Aileen Roy rides to the possible rescue with the 'Boots Brand' battery operated, all singing, all dancing ,using smoke and mirrors, electrical ray gun with sticky pads like flies feet.
'Place the pads on the affected parts and 'lightly' raise the electrical output until comfortable, and feel the pains slip away and dissolve'

Cack.

Enter from stage left the 'Silent Amp' aka Adjel who, of late, is somewhat more than keen to disable me using any source whatsoever.
"I'll do it for you Dad, come here, I've seen this on television" (note to self, I remember the last thing she watched was a documentary on illegal Spanish abattoirs)
So, the patches were placed in the strategic places and a light current employed.
"Can you feel anything yet?"
"Not yet mae looves, what number do you have it on?"
"Number one"
"Put it a little higher then"
"Ok"
$%^&*(^%$£"£$%^&*()(*&^%$£$%^&*(*&^%$£$%^&*(*&^%"£$%^&*()(*&^$$^(*)*&%$"£^()&^%$£$%^*&^%$^&*(*&^%^&*(%$£"""£%&()(*&^^**(^%$£67()(^

Have you ever seen a demented caterpillar writhing in a spider's nest? Whizzing around all over the shop? That was me having gone from a healthy number one to a crippling fifteen. So a quick self examination in a mirror revealed four perfect disc like marks in the small of my back, glowing like a bird's eye view of an active Mt St Helens.

I am now sniffing Diet Coke and going back to the drawing board

Bye mae looves

'

The Cumbernauld Dandy....AKA.. Lee

Anyone who knows me has come to accept the fact that I am not an afficionado in the fashion stakes. I like 'comfortable' wear, the stuff that one could wear to the Local Authority dump (we have a very nice one. I must take Linda there one day on a picnic) and not feel out of place in Sauchiehall Street on a Saturday afternoon.
However, I do have a keen eye on 'The Gentlemen's Market' where up and coming fashions are paraded before all and sundry looking for keen approval.
Well, Lee Zahra is one of them and is a 'Dandy' to watch out for in upmarket mags such as Dyno-Rod Daily, GQ, Frying Fats (weekly), Old Moore's Almanac, Mouse Breeders (monthly), Massey Ferguson Tractor Parts (bi monthly) and many more cutting edge mags.
Consider the ensemble and catwalk as a radio/TV wag would announce it.
Introducer.."And we're here in Lenzie today with all the big names in the modelling circus. We have secured, at a very high cost, the bit between the living room and the foyer (hall) of one Captain Zippy. Our team are here waiting for the big moment when Lee Zahra (modelling name 'Benny the Bolt')is going to make an appearance. One of the panel will be speaking to him soon. Ah, here he comes now, over to you Senga"

Senga..Thankyou. I'm trying to to squeeze through this vast thong to get to Benny..................made it. Benny! Benny?...a word please? Ah super, he can give us a few moments.
Benny...'Ello dahlin'
Senga.'Er quite. Benny, you have rocketed to the absolute periphery of the fashion underworld. Why do you think this has happened so quickly?'
Benny.'I'd like to thank my sponsor 'oo rearly suppawts me'
Senga...'Who is your sponsor?'
Benny.'Harry and Henry THE Haddock and Herring Wholesale Hontroponores'
Senga...'And are they here tonight?'
Benny.'No'
Senga...'So what the hell is that smell?'
Benny.'Well, I'm keeping my fish supper warm'
Senga...'Where?...Oh, I see'

Announcer....'And this is the moment you have been waiting for..please give a very well deserved lacklustre welcome to.......BENNY!!!!'

Addie...'Benny is strutting his stuff hovering between the living room and the hall. He turns half heel to show us what a desperate eye for fashion he has. This 'outfit' was actually collected by Benny from some of the biggest clearing houses in the West of Scotland..Salvation Army; British Heart Foundation; PDSA; Canine Defence League; Be Kind To Worms and The Arches (Glasgow Division)
I'll take time to describe what he is wearing. Very exciting, I think it will be in all of the Paris cathouses within a week...but I digress.
This collection is called 'I didn't know what to wear this mawning, so I thought I'd be smart and casual'
He has a grey pullover (Sally Ann) beautiful crushed shirt (Bottom Drawer) smart jeans (Clothes Line) The effect is stunning! The shirt out of the the back of the trousers but tucked in front can only mean one thing...bordering on the imperfect. A cheeky dig at the world of haute couture.
One more thing to mention is the fashionable accoutrement of having tissue (toilet) paper coming down from under the hem of the troos. Nice, very nice touch.

Please keep a watch at this page to see how Benny gets on introducing 'Royston's Next Top Model'

Bye Mae Looves

My friend the Goblin..........

Just think that all throughout our house there are goblins. Good ones of course. I mean they always do helpful things when your back is turned, and when you least expect it. My family have one and his name is ????? You can guess later. Consider the following examples in a sort of typical day:-

1...Family puts the washing in the wash bag.

As if by magic the washing is done, hung out, brought in, dried off as necessary, and even sometimes put on the beds.

2...Family puts the dirty cutlery plates, knives and forks etc in the sink, along with cheese ridden pot bottoms. You can guess the rest.

Lo and behold, without anyone's knowledge, they're put in the dish washer, cleaned, taken out, put away until needed again. Which is a couple of minutes later.

3...The Goblin is also naughty sometimes. Adjel's room is ALWAYS tidy and clean. I know because she tells me it is; and just before I go to check.......he has sneaked under the door and conjured up a rendition of Hurricane Katrina.

4...When he is having a good day he also mows the lawn, cleans the house, buys in food, cooks etc etc. I like having the little guy in the house. He makes everbodys life so much easier.

Names on a postcard please.

Bye mae looves

Pyjama party in ASDA

There is a growing trend in Glasgow for women who obviously imagine there is a competion called' Royston's Next Top Model'
Rules are simple enough:-

1...You must wear PJ bottoms the would befit an oaf of the first order but look the part in the hills of Afghanistan

2...You must be spray tanned with horse urine to just set the colour right. No other urine will do.

3...You must be brave enough to come out and 'shop' when it's raining and cold.

4...Always bite your fingernails in view of the non interested public.

5...Always have an excruciated worried look on your face.

6...Always walk with arms folded

7...ALWAYS get in the queue for the cashline and ponce around pretending you have money in there that you have actually earned

8...Always have a fag on the go. Not a dog end, too lasse-faire, an extra long one. Preferably one you've rolled yourself with Old Holborn, Golden Virginia or Hearts of Oak

Do all these things and your card is marked for onwards and upwards. Oh, and one last thing, go about with a face like a bulldog chewing a wasp.

The prizes for the next Top Model are top of the range

1...Getting to wear Liedenhosen at Larkhall's 'Das Kar Boot Sale'

2...Promise of a centerfold photo shoot with 'Farmer's Weekly'

3...Handing out free lemonade in George Square on Hogmanay

4...Pin up girl at 'The Barra's' and finally.

5...Free colouring in book (crayons not included)

So many contenders

Bye mae looves

The real reason why the Titanic sunk

Leaving the elderly lady I made my way to 'Weight Watchers'
I have been a regular attendee for about a year to closely observe folk. Losing weight is totally incidental, it's the fun of it all. Not being cruel but observant it's amazing how different people are in size size and size. The fashions are excrutiating...for example:-

1...Here's the lady who was given a tube of exploding pink lipstick for Christmas. It worked too, the front of her hair is pink, nowhere else, just the lips, half the face and the hair. Either that or she walked into a tub of 'Agent Orange'

2...This one is wearing something what a little 3 yr old girl would wear dressing up with her pals. The woman is about 40 yrs old and looks like she was caught in an explosion in a charity shop

3...This one does a first rate impersonation of 'Jabba the Hut'

And so it goes on.

So I sit and imagine a WW member's cruise on the Titanic, in the Atlantic with an accumulated tonnage equal to half the ship's weight. The party and class for them is portside, they all move there like migrating wildebeest, the ship lists heavily, Captain panics, the ice from all their Cokes and Fantas leaves the glass with precision timing, knocks a hole in the boat, water comes in, ship sinks, people lose lives.
Except the WW class. They just bob up and down until rescue comes.
Sigh

Bye mae looves
































































I lost 6lb if you're interested

Bye mae looves

A dear old soul

Walking through the armpit of Europe (Kirkintilloch) I came upon a wee old woman. She was about 5' - 2" grey hair, a walking stick, glasses, a shopping bag, dark blue raincoat..and a lovely smile. So, what do you do when a good looking woman is passing? Yes, you stop to chat:-

"Hello my darling"
"Oh hello son" (Now when I'm called 'son' I melt)
"Out to spend all your money?"
"No, my grandaughter just had a baby and both of them are really ill"
"Oh dear. Are you away to visit them?"
"No, I'm going to pray to my Lord at the chapel in Union Street"
"Well bless your heart"
"I'll pray and then leave it in his hands. That's all we can do son"
"Yes, I believe that"
"Well bless your heart too"
Now I am nowhere near her calibre in spiritual things. I was humbled by her extreme faith and trust in the God she worships. If I'd have had time I'd have gone with her to her house of worship and prayed with her to the God and Father of us all. I hope her family will pull through

Three strikes (well five) and you're out

It's 'late' in Linda's book. As I write this it is 06.40BST and having nothing better to do at this unearthly hour apart from wishing Dracula night night, I will explain the title.

Strike 1...Alarm on Linda's phone goes, always at 05.00 hrs. I awake before her, as per usual. I don't mind but the phone is always placed in some form of bowl near to the bed. When the phone alarm goes off it sets in motion an Irish Jig causing said instrument to go nuts in the bowl.
So deep in golden slumbers where a bogeyman is under the bath, the cacophany of sound and Hurricane Katrina erupts. I am convinced that this is a mini version of the dawn of time, you know, the Big Bang.

Strike 2...The Matriarch is up looking for 'a brown belt'..."Have you seen it?"
In our bedroom we have what is quaintly called 'sliding doors' They are past their useful existence, and make a screeching sound like a dessert spoon being dragged from tightly clenched molars. Well, I haven't seen it and suggest putting the light on. Light goes on and burns the early morning mist from the corneas.

Strike 3...Having found the brown belt I hear Linda looking through a bag, a bag with zips on, lots of them. The sound of the zips going like fiddler's elbows reminds me of two things 1.. Searching a Goth for drugs. I mean, how many zips do they want on their outer attire? 2...Is she practising to become senile with the zippy thing?

Strike 3...Captain Zippy now goes downstairs. Peace and quiet I thought. The house alarm goes off.

Strike 4...Why does crockery make so much noise? When Linda sorts the dishes it sounds and looks like an old time performer juggling crockery on 'Sunday Night at the London Palladium'

Strike 5...Now bemused by the whole daily start to life I lie there, quietly "Has she gone yet?"
No. Up the stairs she stampedes and into Rodgie's domain.."Could you move the car please?"

So here I sit.

Think I'll wake Rachael up.

Oh Adjie....

Bye mae looves

Homo Sapiens v The nodding dog

Rebecca 'kindly' drove me to Claire's place.

To be fair it was exceedingly kind of her to do that, but I can't remember defaulting on a 'trick or treat.'

It was an interesting experience somewhat new to me inasmuch as I was the equivalent 'nodding dog,' you know the ones you see the parcel shelf of some canine lover?. So why are they there? Is it to distract you or what? And why a nodding dog? Why not a Rabbie with a nodding head at the Wailing Wall? And what is a parcel shelf? I bet some kids are upset at the 'parcel shelf' at christmastime, or the size of it anyway. You've all seen it in some of the upmarket cars, the Rolls Royce with a packet of Kleenex on the back shelf. And why are they there on the parcelshelf if you want to sneeze? That makes as much sense as having a roll of toilet paper in the garage when you're in the Khazie.

I digress, so back to the Homo Sapien equivalent whilst Rebecca is auditioning for 'Crazy Drivers' I never knew it was possible for the human neckbone to stretch from 90 degrees down to 3 degees. Well it is. And the same applies when the car defies gravity when cornering at high speed, you know, left to right and back again. That's okay but several thousand movements and you start thinking your neck and head have turned into a human egg whisk.

In company with a pop star........

The Zahra clan descended upon me minus Lee (the Alpha male)

I have a new name for the little Kayla..'Ziggy Stardust' For one reason and one reason only. It's because you can't see her eyebrows. She has them but 'slow to grow'

I think David Bowie was a dab hand with the Gilette razors though, although I have heard that Bruce Lee was trying to show him some Kung Fu tricks with an open razor, you know the stuff, twirling around and making a noise like a freshly neutered cat (how come in all these films EVERYONE does it) I mean even the oldies and gummers do it and NEVER get tired! And another thing, how come when they get a well aimed boot in their chops they never bleed. Just a shake of their heads, miaow and on with the war.

Of course Mr Bowie has stacks of musical talent which has lasted well over the years whereas Ziggy Mk 2 has only one gift so far which lasts for as long as 43 seconds.

She has a musical butt which, when full of wind plays an amazing rendition (solo) of Trumpet Voluntary. Nice tone as well. and she has a barnet that nowadays Mr Scargill would drool over.

Bye mae looves

On a roll here...........

Anyone out there (all two of my humble followers) understand why any household has more than it's fair share of cutlery? When there are really only three of us living here why do we have 34 knives, 41 forks and 32 spoons?

I'm going to donate surplus to Uri Geller

Bye mae looves

Ancient inscriptions in the airing cupboard

Having absolutely nothing better to do I decided to venture into the airing cupboard and have a gander at the 30 years clothing storage we have. I decided, for an extra thrill to the lacklustre morning, to pull all the sheets out and refold them; bit like linen origami.
So, everything pulled from the cupboard and scattered around Adjel's opium den. Actually, it looks better when there is an organised mess in her room...'matter unorganised' is an appropriate term. THAT'S IT!!!!!!! Adjel's room is a 'black hole'...remember from science lectures..........not even LIGHT escapes! The equation also is that gravity in a black hole is 9,000,000 times more stronger than earth. THIS is why when clothes, bus tickets,contact lens cases, Q tips, bits of toothpaste, hair grips and a host of 'matter here' are removed from the floor, within seconds they are back, but in a different place on the floor.
But I digress. Taking time to examine parts of the airing cupboard I have not seen for a long time (Steptoe and Son would have been extremely proud to have had a look into it) imagine my surprise when I came across an ancient monument; closer examination revealed there were strange markings on it (found out it was the hot water tank) with that polystyrene sprayed onto it. It's about 3" thick.

Inscription No 1....Linda..grounded 24 Oct 1997 - 27 Oct 1997

Inscription No 2...Rachael 7 Sep 2001

Inscription No 3...Brigham Young was here...All is well

On top of all that there were markings of curious workmanship..stars, moons, E = MC squared, noughts and crosses.

Linda is 28 now so I think she's past a 'whisper' in the ear.

'Oh, Adjel!!!'

Need to go and bring in the 'smalls'

Bye for now my lurves

Noises from the loft

It all goes back to my Dad terrifying me near unto death with a 'ghost story.' I was 6 years old and it was one of his rare appearances at home due to ilnesses which kept him in hospital for long periods of time. One dark winter's evening I happened to ask him to tell me a story, you know the type, a common 'Once upon a time' I knew there was trouble brewing when it started out something like 'The monster was hiding beneath the bath, in the dark, with the door shut. He was warm there. And he could hear everything that was said in the house because of his bat like ears. He saw and heard a little boy come into the bathroom, he knew his name was Roger. As soon as he was able the monster was going to leap out with a mighty roar and bite Roger's head off.'
Did you know that if you were able to sneeze with your eyes open they would shoot out of your face at the speed of light? Well, that's what terror does to a person as well.
Dad, always one for finishing a good story then said.."Roger, be a good boy and go into the bathroom and run the water..it's okay..there's nothing.... much..... to scare you."
Which brings me to my story 'Noises from the loft' After a lifetime of night horrors, courtesy of Dad's stories and a little time spent in the police I don't scare easy (lies, if no one is in the house I sleep with the bathroom light on) well, you never know. Three weeks ago I was aroused by tapping in the loft, obviously caused by footsteps perambulating from one end of the loft to the other 'this is the 'Loft Monster' I thought. And on it went..tap..tap..tap, then the mutterings and dark curses, followed by strange glowing lights. Then as I listened more closely the footsteps beat out an old familiar rhythm. I'd heard the sound on the TV before, you know, those documentaries of The German Army marching into France..tap..tap..tap
Yes, I thought as much. It was Obengroupenfueher Linda searching for goodness knows what up there. But that's okay. But at 6am?
What really alarms is that this only happens when the moon is full.
Need to go to the bathroom and see what inadvertent gravity has done to my bladder.

A quiet afternoon

'It was the best of times and the worst of times'
Due to really nice weather here in Lenzie and being completely on my own I decided to take a short break to cope with the rigours of the rest of the day in the hazy sunshine. So I got a respectable covering (dust sheet from the local DIY emporium) to place on the well manicured lawn and lay down.
The smell of freshly cut grass (next doors) caused me to think about being a little boy in the hayfields of Kent. I used to lie down on the grass on the balmy afternoons gazing up at the cloud scudded sky and look for images in the clouds. Usually it was the image of a person I knew. I decided to relive some of those charming moments and closed my eyes for a couple of seconds. Then I looked up and to my utter astonishment I saw in the cloud patterns the face of Leah the Terrible. I closed my eyes again and wanted to see more. Open them again and Leah was still there!!
Mentally referring to my Wainright & Shusters (circa 1821) book of cloud names I knew instantly (My mum incidentally always said I had my head in the clouds) that this was a rare form of stratocumulus.
Then the 'cloud' bellowed in my face 'Papa'
Leah was of course with Rebecca her Mum and little sister Kayla. They too were joined a little later on by their cousins Eilidh, Hannah and Esther, and her Mum Claire. So, a quiet afternoon was spent trying to organise a bag of worms. Some old fashioned games were played 'Hunt the bumble bee' 'Whose squishy banana is this?' 'Guess what I've just trod in?' Outright winner was me because someone had actually found a bumble bee and the kids were last seen running north to The Campsies Hills.
Sitting here now in the conservatory realising that I'm slipping into a coma due to being shattered.

Night night my lurves

At Claire's place

At my eldest daughters place (Claire) Came around for 5 min respite from the cares and woes of life on the retired list, you know, sleeping in to the crack of noon, lounging by the pool. I have this magnetism to kids which is quite appalling, no, appealing..whoops.

I want to know why that as soon as I'm here I'm adopted by the grandkids who feel sorry for me; my car is seen driving off to Asda; I'm hanging the washing out (I didn't know there was a correct way to hang out a dishcloth, facing east with the lower left hand corner facing absolute north and the opposite for the other corner) I had a bit of a job when I started to hang out Robbie's raraskirt.

Back in the house for a little rest from 'the chores' Now I'm quite attached to my face, well, it has been between my ears for nearly 60 yrs, trouble is when Esther's getting changed her butt has an attraction for my face too. It seems that the coordinates have been fixed into my napper. Her butt seems to follow me around the room like one of those paintings. You know the one, some dame has her eye on you and just wont leave you be. And it doesn't matter where you try and hide.

Ah, the coast is clear and I'm offski

Bye my lurves

Roger has been set loose upon the blogging community

As his daughter, that has been asked to set up his new blogging account, I issue a warning to all those who may stumble upon this blog.

Warning!

There you go.