...yes, I think we've figured out what the mental-mater was on about with her fish joke email yesterday. I suspect she may have been trying a witty take on the Carlsberg adverts, as in "Carlsberg don't do fish jokes, but if they did, they'd probably be the best fish jokes in the world." Oh, she's hilarious. She really really is. "MY MOTHER, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!! That's right, for one night only you can suffer my mad maters mental musings! Twitch uncomfortably in your seat! Fidget with mirth!"
There's something you don't hear often enough: Fidget with mirth. Two good names for cats there. And great as a persuasive tactic, "come on, lets go out. I'll make you fidget with mirth..." Actually, I don't like it any more...it can sound suggestive or sinister in the wrong hands. Or mouth, as it were.
Do you know what's worse than a psychic chicken? Yep, you guessed it. A psychic chicken with an attitude problem.
I have severe hotmail related rage*. It keeps turning itself into very large times new roman. Just the font, not hotmail in it's entirety. "HOTMAIL: MORPH!"(morphing action)"GO GO POWER HOTMAIL!!"(cue music) and it won't let me turn off the rich text editor, which is seriously beginning to irritate me now. Grr at you hotmail. I fart in your general direction.
*"Severe X Related Rage": This is catching. Lou-Bee emailed me just this morning to apologise for using this phrase in one of her diary entries...and I suspect the phrase will crop up elsewhere. It's like a disease. Keep an eye out for it.
THE JESUS CAT DREAM.
I had a dream last night in which Flea walked on water. I remember someone saying "it's a bit weird that she's doing that" and I got all enraged at their stupidity and responded with "well, not really...cats don't like to swim.", as if all cats walk on water when the need arises.
Oh dearie me (yes, you heard me. Oh. Dearie. Me. Today I will mostly be being a grandma), this entry is incredibly disjointed. Cohesion? Ptah** I spit on cohesion!
**spitting noise.
ALEX IS OFF HIS DIET!! PRAISE THE LORD!! He has lost a whole two stone in the past month or so, and to celebrate he TOOK ME OUT FOR DINNER! I even had ice-cream. It's sad how excited I get by these little things. I do love going to our local pub though. Last night I heard a conversation that left me totally bewildered and laughing into my cheeseburger (I'm so refined), which featured the words "yeah...you can look up all your old schoolfriends...find out who's died..." Mmm, cheerful! And Alex had the unnerving experience of having to sit facing inane grinning woman, who was sitting silently next to her miserable looking husband, grinning (teeth and everything) at everyone in the pub. Apart from when she was concentrating on peanuts. The peanuts caused a frown. Peanuts - they'll put anyone into a bad mood. Now there's an advertising campaign and a half.
I always have the urge to conclude entries with a closing statement, like a conclusion on an 11 year olds essay. "In conclusion, I liked this book, because it was good." But I can never think of anything clever to conclude with. What am I looking for - some way to bring all these little disjointed birdseed epiphanies (that's not what I wanted to say, I wanted to say "*something* anecdotes", but "birdseed epiphanies" popped into my head and I liked it so we're sticking with that. Why have I felt the need to justify myself again? Before long every single entry is going to be filled with explanatory notes. I'm digressing again...) together? I bet you couldn't remember what the word "together" related to and had to look back over what I'd written. I bet you did.
Seriously now, I'm not actually writing anything with any purpose (or any porpoise), so I AM ACTUALLY STOPPING.
Oh God I want that concluding statement, though.