Whenever I post nudity, someone walks past Michaels computer

Which has nothing to do with this post but he just IM'd me it and I laughed.

No, this is not me with Jonny, and it's not a future pic of me and Jack. I know, my dates are becoming confusing to you all....

This is me with who I pulled at the wedding.

cute huh?

I feel like that guy I blogged about with the real dolls....

Charity May Begin at Home but Where Does it End?

A young kid just knocked my door. Kooky looking pre teen with bunches in her hair and a wide smile. She held out an envelope.

" Do you want to give a donation to leprosy?"

I looked dubiously at the envelope - did she want skin maybe or a spare limb I had lying around.....

But no, as I already knew as Bethan is participating, she wanted cold hard cash for a sponsored "Get Fit" thingy the school is running to raise money for a leprosy charity.

This is in addition to the many non school uniform days they have with a payment for charity. Comic relief, Sport relief, Jeans for genes, Children in need - the list is endless. Why did I pay the extortionate prices for their monogrammed school uniform when they never seem to wear the bloody things?

Don't get me wrong, I am a donator to charity. I give regular sums to my chosen charities. I even sponsor an agrophobic collie dog called Sam......

I have blogged previously of the charity collectors that run rampage on my City shopping High Street. Dodging the buggers is a fine art I have perfected that involves walking more miles than needed by constantly weaving in complex patterns around them. Yes, I realise the companies think having good looking young men and fresh faced pretty girls smiling at you like they really like you will work and I'm guilty of having a quick ogle, but it wont make me part with my bank details.

It's fairly obvious that I'm not going to give my limited spare cash to just anyone. Which brings me to a point I've been pondering for a while.

Why do normal Americans give money to political candidates campaigns? I don't get it.

I applaud Ryan and Michelle's efforts in canvessing. I appreciate they give up their spare time to support something they believe in. Stick a placard in your front yard or a poster in your window. Go to a rally and throw your panties at Obama. But money?

Of course, the all singing, all dancing campaigns are not something we are used to over the pond. So, we get the stories of how extravagant these campaigns are. We've had stories of Clinton babes spending $7000 on doughnuts, another of a party that bought up every shovel in a snow bound state so only their voters could get to the polling station. We watch the banners and streamers and all marching bands in wonderment really.

And laugh at you.

So, if any American wants to explain to me why you give them dosh to pay for some college intern's doughnut please do.

10 stories that should be April Fools...

But aren’t. Taken from today’s BBC news website HERE (if you want to get to the penguin link)

Here is a round-up of some of the day’s seemingly spoof news stories which are actually true (and one that isn’t).

1. A new pay-per-view funeral service scheme is being launched today. The Daily Mail says the scheme at Southampton Crematorium allows mourners to grieve from home by watching proceedings online.

2. A turtle is addicted to nicotine. He became addicted after picking up the smouldering butts in his owner’s garden, in Kouqian, China, and sulks if he doesn’t get his fix. The Daily Express, which picked up the story from Chinese news agency Xinhua, includes a gob-smacking picture of the turtle doing a rather good impression of Dot Cotton.

3. The menopause is caused by the age-old battle between wives and mothers-in-law, reports the Times. As long as 50,000 to 300,000 years ago, competition for food in a family unit was a battle won by the younger women who fed their offspring, which led to the older women losing their ability to breed. With food hard to find, mothers-in-law tended to help rear the grandchildren rather than have more children themselves.

4. An injection that allows women bigger and better orgasms by increasing the size of the mysterious G-spot is being launched in the UK, says the Sun. The £800 collagen jab takes less than half-an-hour and is given under local anaesthetic.

5. School desks and chairs are to be enlarged to meet the needs of the UK’s ever-heavier schoolchildren, reports the Express. On average British children are a centimetre taller than they were 10 years ago, and there are more obese youngsters, so desks supplied to UK schools will reflect this.

6. Wind turbines or solar panels built by UK companies anywhere in the world could count towards Britain’s renewable energy targets under controversial government proposals, according to the Financial Times.

7. You will soon be able to have a tattoo on your teeth, reports the Sun. Steve Heward, the dentist who started the craze in the US plans to set up in Britain.

8. The traditional Chinese martial art T’ai Chi can help control diabetes, reports the Daily Mail. Apparently, researchers have found the flowing movements and deep breathing involved can result in a fall in blood sugar levels.

9. A thief walked out of a busy Norwegian aquarium with a crocodile that was over two feet long, says the Independent.

10. Drinkers have been banned from calling barmaids "love". An outraged Daily Star says new discrimination laws mean landlords that allow punters to chat up staff could be hauled before a tribunal and face unlimited fines.

And finally, a genuine spoof. Have you heard the one about the penguins that can fly? A BBC camera crew filming a colony of Adelie penguins were astonished when they did something "no other penguins can do" and took to the Antarctic skies


If anyone would like to donate to a collection in order for me to put number 4 to the test, I take cash, cheques or paypal. I’m willing to test it out for you guys because that’s just the giving girl I am

I Was Young Once

Despite already being teased for these pictures, I shall blog them anyway so you can all have a go....

Lisa as a chubby one year old with her daddy

Me at about 19

And finally me at Nursing School graduation - I was 21

Sorry Ev no pictures of my ass..

Posh Leather Prince Charming

Media frenzy is at a pitch as the Beckhams return to Britain from LA for gorgeous hunky Mr Beck’s 100th England cap. Mrs Beck was photographed in London shopping in her tiny sized, very tight, leather pants.

Now, on first viewing of these photos I had 2 thoughts

1. Is that hand in front of her foof hiding camel toe??

and

2. When will she stop copying my hair style?

And then I realised - it’s not just my hairstyle shes stealing, and she’s way, way behind me in the leather trouser fashion stakes...

It was 1981, I was 11.

Ant mania had swept the land and I was not immune to their charm. I was Ant crazy. Adam Ant was my first celebrity crush. I had the albums or as Bethan calls them those big black CDs, I had the wall covered in posters. I had the patch sewn onto my jeans (remember them...) and I had THE OUTFIT.

Yes, the outfit.

Black leather(ette) trousers and white blouse with frills to die for. Gaudy long gold(ish) chains. Black boots.

Black eyeliner and a thick white stripe across my nose.

I thought I was the shit.

So, when told I had to go shopping with my mother and my sister I took off my huge can headphones, stopped listening to my Prince Charming and dawdled downstairs. In the outfit.

Older sister stared and opened her mouth. Mother shussed her, sighed heavily and exclaimed they really didn’t have time....

I didn’t really notice they walked 50 yards behind me all day. I just saw the wide beams of fellow shoppers and smiled smugly to myself thinking I must have looked so cool......

and for those who need a nostalgic look back at the 80s gods that were Adam and the Ants, here’s a little taste

Ant mania didn’t last much longer for me and soon I turned my loyalties to Duran Duran. But I still look back at those highly embarrassing times.

Oh and speaking of embarrassing moments - check out The Lounge over the weekend and try to guess which friends you can recognise....

Bunnies and Chicks

Happy Easter

Buns

Hot Cross buns

Hot Cross buns

one a penny

two a penny

Hot Cross buns

if you have no daughters

give them to your sons

one a penny

2 a penny

Hot Cross buns

Having explained to numerous Americans what they are, I thought I’d blog them.

Cut in half and buttered. Toasted they are yummy. We eat them on Good Friday.

The cross on top is supposed to be for that guy nailed to the cross thing yeah?

As for the song - not a clue - as Brian said - You Brits have funny songs.....

And just for fun - when I searched for hot cross buns on photobucket I got this....

Penguins, Ladybugs and Departed Old Friends

As I’ve blogged before, I’m no Mother Earth. I love my kiddiewinkies but am not the kind of mother that can make a mouse costume out of sticky back plastic, string and 4 tin cans. So when they left primary school I sighed a huge sigh of relief. No more staying up all night to make costumes because I’d forgotten to do them and no Eisteddffods to have to make crafty stuff and Welsh cakes. Well, I mean help but if you’re a mum you know you do the brunt of the work and your kid just holds the tape...

So, I was bloody pissed off yesterday when Bethan came home from school. She had last week off with chicken pox and informed me she had to make a 3D animal by Wednesday as an arts’ project.

And she wanted to do a penguin...

So hastily paper mache a balloon we did. And put it in the airing cupboard to dry overnight. This afternoon after school, we started painting it - and it sank and collapsed - not enough paper mache.

Ideas flew, google was initiated and then Bethan had a bright idea. Well, she stole it from a girl who said she’d made a spider from a tennis ball.

We did a ladybird!

So - a tennis ball, some pva glue and red paint, cotton buds (Q Tips to you guys??), a couple of white drawing pins and a black felt marker later and we ended up with this - courtesy of Jessica’s camera phone as my batteries are gone in my camera

cute or what.....

Also, on the subject of animals, I want to say bye to an old friend who was put to sleep this morning as she had liver failure and was really suffering. My parents’ dog, Black Beauty, a rescue greyhound.

You’ll be missed, especially by your favourite cwtcher and stroker

Night princess

My Small Welsh Army

I spent most of the St Davids/Mother's day weekend in bed with the flu and a bad back. I ventured out of my bed periodically when I needed a back position change. I did put my red PJs on.

But some people made an effort and here they be

Helly

Jenna

Scot

Catch and M2

You all look great - thank you for making an effort. I will amend if more pics come in.

More Politics from a Brit's Perspective

I bloggged the previous blog post on My Space and got a flurry of comments, mostly from my friends across the pond.It's odd that a blog on politics gets a flurry of comments - more than a previous post on men in kilts...

I've been struggling to blog for a while. Willow keeps telling me to blog something fantastically witty like I used to on Grab but I don't seem to have the ideas anymore. I also neglect my blogger blog which I prefer as the myspace blog seems to generate more comments. Although according to my tracker, I mostly generate views on Blogger from people googling big boy or penis. Oh and one googled anal foot sex and arrived at my blog. Suggestions are welcome if theres anything you want me to blog about.

So you prefer politics to kilts? Ok

Here's more British humour - yes with a U - about American politics - Ev e-mailed me this a while ago and while I usually avoid forwarded junk email I did appreciate this one..

Britain is Repossessing the U.S.A.
A Message from John Cleese

To: The citizens of the United States of America:
In light of your failure to nominate competent candidates for President of the USA and thus to govern yourselves, we hereby give notice of the revocation of your independence, effective immediately.

Her Sovereign Majesty Queen Elizabeth II will resume monarchical duties over all states, commonwealths, and territories (except Kansas , which she does not fancy).

Your new prime minister, Gordon Brown, will appoint a governor for America without the need for further elections.

Congress and the Senate will be disbanded.

A questionnaire may be circulated next year to determine whether any of you noticed.

To aid in the transition to a British Crown Dependency, the following rules are introduced with immediate effect:

You should look up "revocation" in the Oxford English Dictionary.
1. Then look up aluminium, and check the pronunciation guide. You will be amazed at just how wrongly you have been pronouncing it.

2. The letter 'U' will be reinstated in words such as 'favour' and 'neighbour.' Likewise, you will learn to spell 'doughnut' without skipping half the letters, and the suffix -ize will be replaced by the suffix -ise.
Generally, you will be expected to raise your vocabulary to acceptable levels. (look up 'vocabulary').

3. Using the same twenty-seven words interspersed with filler noises such as "like" and "you know" is an unacceptable and inefficient form of communication.
There is no such thing as US English. We will let Microsoft know on your behalf. The Microsoft spell- checker will be adjusted to take account of the reinstated letter 'u' and the elimination of -ize. You will relearn your original national anthem, God Save The Queen.

4. July 4th will no longer be celebrated as a holiday.

5. You will learn to resolve personal issues without using guns, lawyers, or therapists. The fact that you need so many lawyers and therapists shows that you're not adult enough to be independent.
Guns should only be handled by adults. If you're not adult enough to sort things out without suing someone or speaking to a therapist then you're not grown up enough to handle a gun.

6. Therefore, you will no longer be allowed to own or carry anything more dangerous than a vegetable peeler. A permit will be required if you wish to carry a vegetable peeler in public.

7. All American cars are hereby banned. They are crap and this is for your own good. When we show you German cars, you will understand what we mean.

8. All intersections will be replaced with roundabouts, and you will start driving on the left with immediate effect. At the same time, you will go metric with immediate effect and without the benefit of conversion tables.
Both roundabouts and metrication will help you understand the British sense of humour.

9. The Former USA will adopt UK prices on petrol (which you have been calling gasoline)-roughly $6/US gallon. Get used to it.

10. You will learn to make real chips. Those things you call French fries are not real chips, and those things you insist on calling potato chips are properly called crisps. Real chips are thick cut, fried in animal fat, and dressed not with catsup but with vinegar.

11. The cold tasteless stuff you insist on calling beer is not actually beer at all. Henceforth, only proper British Bitter will be referred to as beer, and European brews of known and accepted provenance will be referred to as Lager.
South African beer is also acceptable as they are pound for pound the greatest sporting Nation on earth and it can only be due to the beer. They are also part of British Commonwealth - see what it did for them.

12. Hollywood will be required occasionally to cast English actors as good guys. Hollywood will also be required to cast English actors to play English characters.
Watching Andie McDowell attempt English dialogue in Four Weddings and a Funeral was an experience akin to having one's ears removed with a cheese grater.

13. You will cease playing American football. There is only one kind of proper football; you call it soccer. Those of you brave enough will, in time, be allowed to play rugby (which has some similarities to American football, but does not involve stopping for a rest every twenty seconds or wearing full kevlar body Armour like a bunch of nancies). Don't try Rugby - the South Africans and Kiwis will thrash you, like they regularly thrash us.

14. Further, you will stop playing baseball. It is not reasonable to host an event called the World Series for a game which is not played outside of America. Since only 2.1% of you are aware that there is a world beyond your borders, your error is understandable. You will learn cricket, and we will let you face the South Africans first to take the sting out of their deliveries.

15. You must tell us who killed JFK. It's been driving us mad.

16. An internal revenue agent (i.e. tax collector) from Her Majesty's Government will be with you shortly to ensure the acquisition of all monies due (backdated to 1776).

17. Daily Tea Time begins promptly at 4 pm with proper cups, never mugs, with high quality biscuits (cookies) and cakes; strawberries in season.
God save the Queen.
Only He can.

John Cleese

Now I Think I get It...

The past few weeks Ive been trying to comprehend American politics. I don't get it. I kinda get British politics to a fashion but Democrats and Republicans and all the campaigning stuff confuses me.

But a fellow Brit has helped me enormously with his short guide and I thought I'd copy it here to help anyone else confused. It's from my favourite singing anaesthetist Suman amateur transplants blog

Oh what a job it is....

So there's this big lump of land over to the west of Ireland... and the rules say that you can't have the same idiot in charge of it for more than 8 years so now the people who live there have to pick someone new to start all the wars. The newspaper people are very happy because they won't have to try hard all year to get any news stories.

There are two main teams, and there are lots of games to play to see who will be the leader of each team.
One side are being very brave because they want to pick someone who's a bit different to all the other leaders before; they are going to choose between a man who's daddy is from Kenya and woman who's husband used to be leader. So really it's kind of a competition to see whether the country is more racist or sexist.

Both of the people who want to be in charge of the team travel around the country and talk a lot. Meanwhile the newspaper, telly & internet people try & make the whole thing more exciting by finding old pictures & stories and by pretending they said or did stuff that they didn't.

The other teams are boring. But the leader of the other big team will probably win overall because everyone will be fed up by the time they have to choose. Or too confused.

Anyway, that's the backstory.

There's a big news website over there that was trying to explain the whole thing a few weeks ago... and must've got bored because by the end of the article they were talking about Amateur Transplants!!

Here's what they wrote.

Welsh World Domination Part 2

Yes, it's that time of year again. I got really excited when I found an ecard and Ive sent it to everyone I have an email for. But if I don't have your email - and if not, why not? - heres a link to the greeting

Happy St David's Day

Oh and send me pics if you wear red, or cwtch a daffodil, or eat leek soup, or drink from a welsh mug. If you missed last years aim for World Domination check out here

College Valentines

I don't like Valentines Day. It's totally over commercialised. When you can buy a Valentines card for your dog, things are seriously wrong. Unless you are fucking your dog and then your problems are far more severe and you need help. Yes, it's true I have no man to spoil and woo me on Valentines Day but that really has nothing to do with it. Call me bitter and twisted if you wish.

Willow and I were discussing our aversion to Valentines Day and I mentioned I once had my very own romantic Valentine gesture. She encouraged me to blog it. So here it is...

I was 16 and in my first year of college. College meant more boys which was fun.

Christmas was the college ball and at this ball I snogged a nice boy. In fact, I think I snogged a fair few nice boys and the night ended with my very drunk boyfriend finishing with me, which saved me doing it, buts thats not what this story is about.

So, after this party we all used to hang out in college. Me, the guy I snogged, my best mate Ali, her cousin Andrew who was his best friend and a few others. Its ironic I can't remember the crushes name but remember Andrews but there you go, teenage girls are fickle. I hardly spoke to Andrew. I remember he wanted to be a pilot. He was, well, just there really.

Time moved on to February. The 14th to be exact. I walked into college and was met by a flustered Andrew who handed me a card and fled. I grinned, expecting it to be from his mate. I had after all spent 6 weeks flirting and using my feminine charms to snare him.

I opened the card. It was handmade. Not this guys style. It was beautiful. Not mushy or overly romantic, just beautiful. I opened it and there was a huge poem written inside. Song lyrics explained Ali, REO Speedwagon, one of Andrews favourites. And the writing was his...

I can't fight this feeling any longer.

And yet I'm still afraid to let it flow.

What started out as friendship,

Has grown stronger.

I only wish I had the strength to let it show.

I tell myself that I can't hold out forever.

I said there is no reason for my fear.

Cause I feel so secure when we're together.

You give my life direction,

You make everything so clear.

And even as I wander,

I'm keeping you in sight.

You're a candle in the window,

On a cold, dark winter's night.

And I'm getting closer than I ever thought I might.

And I can't fight this feeling anymore.

I've forgotten what I started fighting for.

It's time to bring this ship into the shore,

And throw away the oars, forever.

Cause I can't fight this feeling anymore.

I've forgotten what I started fighting for.

And if I have to crawl upon the floor,

Come crushing through your door,

Baby, I can't fight this feeling anymore.

My life has been such a whirlwind since I saw you.

I've been running round in circles in my mind.

And it always seems that I'm following you, girl,

Cause you take me to the places,

That alone I'd never find.

And even as I wander,

I'm keeping you in sight.

You're a candle in the wind,

On a cold, dark winter's night.

And I'm getting closer than I ever thought I might.

And I can't fight this feeling anymore.

I've forgotten what I started fighting for.

It's time to bring this ship into the shore,

And throw away the oars, forever.

Cause I can't fight this feeling anymore.

I've forgotten what I started fighting for.

And if I have to crawl upon the floor,

Come crushing through your door,

Baby, I can't fight this feeling anymore

Can't Fight This Feeling Lyrics Artist: REO Speedwagon

So, is there a romantic ending to this tale of secret love?

Uh, no. I was 16. I shoved it in my bag and pretended it never happened. We said Hi in the corridors as usual, the group eventually grew apart and it was never mentioned again. Yes, I was a bitch but really, it wasn't going to happen.

Now I realise how sweet and romantic it was. And I feel bad. So, I'm taking this opportunity to apologise to him. Of course he won't read it. Last I heard he was a pilot....

Random Sit Rep

My Myspace blog is up the creek. I cant get on it to post and noone can get on to read. Not that I have a large fan club but still....

So my update goes here instead of there.

Where the hell did January go? Wasn't Christmas last week? january passed in a blur.

Work has been horrendously busy with far more critically ill people than beds. We did have one thing that amused me. Before I reveal it I must remind you that nurses have a warped sense of humour..

We had a really nice lady in and while she was in her dog died. We told the family not to tell her. One day she kept telling us there was a dog running around the unit but as she was confused and delerious we didn't pay much attention. The next day she sadly died. So I got to thinking - what if when she died she got to wherever and the dog came running up. She'd be wtf are you doing here?....

I did prewarn you I was warped. But the dog running around was kinda freaky thinking about it. Patients usually see dead relatives before they die so who's to say her dog didn't visit?

My first degree module is going well. It's interesting but theres a huge amount of work to get through. As well as writing the assignment, which has a really horrible title, I have to learn how to physically examine 5 systems and swot up on MCQ questions for the exam. Oh and make sure I've shaved my armpits and have a suitable bra on for the practice examinations....

All of which has been hindered by my mum's admission to hospital. She's been in a week and seems to be getting worse not better. As for some of the nurses on her ward - let's just say I've written the complaint and am waiting to see if her care improves before I send it to the Chief Executive. I try to be the daughter not the nurse but I cannot ignore sheer negligence and neglect. Let's hope her care improves when she gets transferred to the Specialist Hospital for surgery. When they get a bed for her of course, which doesn't look like anytime soon.

Wales beat England at Twickers. Woo - nothing beats the glee of beating the English especially at their home ground. Pity it's taken us twenty years.
Which reminds me - less than a month to St David's Day ( March 1st) so still time to dig out, knit, sew, buy, borrow or steal a red top to mark the occasion. And find a daffodil or a leek. I want an even better turn out than last year

I'll end with this

As someone who works with Anaesthetists in ITU every work day I find it hilarious but once again you may not get the medical humour. These guys rock

I See Dead People

Death is a regular occurance in my job. It holds no mystery for me. I have no memory of viewing a dead relative and holding that thought in my head as the one dead person I have seen. Life is a terminal illness and it comes to us all in the end.

I've known for a while that a normal regular funeral would not be for me. No church, no faceless clergyman reminising about my life as if he had actually met me. Yet, funeral homes or crematoriums have not stirred me either. The thought of my family paying obscene amounts of money for a box for me to be burnt or buried in fills me with horror. I know what I don't want but not actually what I want.

Until today.

Discussing the recent death of a patient, our receptionist mentioned that he was having a woodland burial. I was intrigued and trusty Google came to the rescue.

Now I know exactly what I want

Bury me under the bluebells. I found a place near me. Woodland burial

And while Im at it, put me in something like this
Cardboard box. If I'm going to be worm fodder give them easy access. The cheaper the better. Seriously, I'm dead what do I care. I'd rather my kids spent the money on something useful - like vodka or pear cider.

Then again, I like this idea

Decorate the coffin yourself. Or get friends to do it. I'd like to think when I'm dead my mates would come along and set their artistic print on my box...Or I could hold a paint my coffin party.

If I died tomorrow, which I'm not planning, but if I did, I can imagine the drawings. Pear cider, matching underwear, boots.....

So, now I am assured I've got my exit all planned out. Now I just have to sort out the life I have to live until then.

Funeral was easier.....

Hello???

I haven't blogged here this year!

I've been busy. Work is crazy, I've started my degree and my mum's in hospital. I've blogged little things on MySpace but nothing exciting.

But I'm still alive if anyones interested

*watches hay bales roll by*