Toilet humour, boobs and feline dentistry

Toilet humour, boobs and feline dentistry

Why is it that toilet humour never goes out of fashion with the 5-10 years age group?  As a child carer I am constantly bombarded with the same old rhymes year in and year out which becomes more tedious each time.  The current favourite is ‘Milk, milk, lemonade, round the corner chocolate’s made’.  I had not come across this one until about twelve months ago when it was used in a scene on Coronation Street.  Apparently it is an old favourite.  Not at my school it wasn’t, we were far more refined.  One of the nine year olds I look after added an extra dimension to the end of the ditty......... ‘If you look inside the hole, you will find a mini roll’.  Education these days, cannot fault it.

Actually, thinking about it, toilet humour goes through to adulthood with the male of the species.

For some time now I have been meaning to get measured in the chest department so on the recommendation of various people I headed off to a well known underwear establishment, the name of which sounds more like an Italian coffee brand than a bra shop.  Anyway, I wandered in early on Saturday morning and explained my predicament, i.e. not changed bra size in ages so thought I ought to be measured.

A girl of about 12 (in fact I thought she was on work experience) with the obligatory poker straight long blonde hair, orange spray tan and heavy black make up ushered me into a spacious cubicle and explained that the company does not believe in tape measures but in fact just look at a woman to decide what size garment is needed.  A little unorthodox, but hey I was willing to try it out. 

Over the next twenty minutes I tried on several cumbersome garments which ladies in the olden days probably could have used to carry a stone of potatoes home in.  I specifically said I wanted a totally plain bra, no lacy bits, but three lacy creations appeared.  During my time there I was first sized at 34F for the lacy items and bizarrely at 36DD for plain items.  How does that make any degree of sense?  I did keep saying that the contraption of whatever style felt too tight, but apparently that is how they are supposed to be.  I left the shop with a bag containing two plain bras at a cost of £52.

Today I have revisited the store and returned said items.  I saw a different assistant who seemed a little surprised when I told her I like to be able to breathe in my underwear, but she did refund the items without too much bother...............although I had to give my address details on Saturday “for our records so we can trace you in any of our stores” and instead of number 25 I had been entered onto the database as number 3.  The young chap living at number 3 never struck me as being interested in wearing women’s garments, but one can never be sure who lives in the same street.

My cat had her day out at the vets for dental work, arriving home one root and one tooth less but with clean and shiny teeth that would put Simon Cowell in the shade.  I left the vets £207 lighter in the coffers.  I was advised to only give her a little food that evening as her mouth would be sore and she would still be woozy from the drugs.  After three bowls of chicken and a pile of biscuits I eventually told her she would have to wait until the following day for a refill in her bowl........  She spent most of the evening guarding the kitchen door and at the slightest indication of me moving in the direction of the kitchen she scuttled to the fridge and sat staring at the handle willing it to open!

Animals, owners and lack of respect

Animals, owners and lack of respect

It is often reported that we Brits are a nation of animal lovers.  This is something I can identify with as a cat owner, frog rescuer and hedgehog over-winter carer.  However, one thing that really tries my patience is the dog owner who almost daily trots past with a small terrier and allows the mutt to wee up against my fence.  Do I wee up against the dog owner’s fence?  No, I most certainly do not and nor do I intend to take this up as a hobby.  In any case, being a member of the female species it is infinitely more bother to wee outdoors bearing in mind the various layers to be removed to prevent wet trousers or rivers down the inside leg.  Why does this person believe she has a right to use my fence post for her dog’s bladder activities?  Does she pay me a rent for the post? No.  Does she ever attempt to drag the dog away or mop up the yellow peril? No.  Does she ever look embarrassed? No.

Short of electrifying the fence (too time consuming and expensive) what can I do to prevent it?  Speak to my vet friend about sewing the dog’s urethra closed?  Take the fence down?  Sprinkle the area with hot chilli pepper (dog walks on area, licks feet later, goes through roof....)?  None of these solutions are workable.  The only option is to confront the owner...............hmm.........right then, it looks like some serious gardening out in the front garden is needed at a time to coincide with the pooch being paraded around the street.  Ok it may look strange being gloved up with trowel in hand at breakfast time but it must be worth a try.  Watch this space.

Why is it deemed acceptable practice to leave a pile of dog poo near to the dog poo bin?  How much effort does it take to bag it and put it in the bin next to the steaming pile?  What happened to having respect in this country for our surroundings?  Bring in Singapore laws - that will shake these people up.  I am grateful that my cat uses her litter tray and not my garden........poo appears, is picked up with loo roll and flushed away. Seeeemples!

My cat is off to the cat dentist this week.  She had a worming tablet at the weekend (something she hates with a passion) and instead of spitting it straight out, she spat a canine out instead.  Root removal and a descale and polish lined up for her on Friday.  Cat dental work makes private dentistry for owners look reasonably priced. 

Having said that, I have now booked to go to a different NHS (yes really, a surgery still taking NHS patients!!) dentist in a few weeks time.  Despite the six lengthy appointments for root canal work at the end of 2010, the tooth has lost another bit and I really cannot be bothered to sit through another six sessions with the chap who, although a pleasant enough dentist, announced he does not specialise in root canal work which is why it takes him so long........Surely it cannot be too tricky?  Drill, stick rod in, drill a bit more, stick rod in, fill gap, job done. 

Still no sign of the missing post and no reply from the Royal Mail to my letter.  I guess it is lost in the post.

Census time again (or plain nosiness by another name)

Census time again (or plain nosiness by another name)

Well, the time has come around again to complete the National Census (or Household Questionnaire as it is headed).  Today’s postman staggered up the path with an armful of purple and white envelopes, complaining about how heavy they were.  I was somewhat bemused at this as there are only four houses on this stretch of the street and he had to reload his bike basket with the spare ones.  Hey ho, perhaps he was trying to be macho.................or just plain daft.  My original hopes that he was staggering under the weight of my still missing Christmas post were dashed again.

Anyway, since the last census times have progressed and there was an online submission option.  Excellent!  I sat down, filled in the required boxes and it took all of six minutes to complete.  However, their flaw in the plan is, unlike online tax forms, you cannot obtain a copy of what you have admitted to, you simply get a confirmation number that you have completed the form.  There is no way back, the form cannot be amended once submitted so anyone who has made omissions has to live with it.  In any case, who is going to check that the information is correct?  I was tempted to state my ethnicity as Gypsy or Irish Traveller just for the fun of it and also to make future relatives question their heritage when tracing the family tree............ However I was sensible and gave the true information.  In any case I am nowhere near wealthy enough to be a Traveller, having seen on the recent Channel 4 documentary series how much they spend, in cash of course, on anything and everything they want.  Perhaps I should look into retraining as a tarmac layer.

I love some of the census questions:-

Question H1 – Who usually lives here? No option for ‘a load of squatters’.

Question H4 – Who else is staying overnight here on 27 March 2011?  Unless I get my tea leaves, crystal ball and runes out, how would I know for sure?

Question 2 (Individual Questions) – What is your sex? Only two options here.  No provision for eunuchs, people going through gender reassignment, those who are born with two sets of sex organs.

Question 31 – Have you ever worked?  This is included for the lazy sods amongst us who appear on the Jeremy Kyle Show to brag about spending their dole money on cannabis, drink and cigs but cannot be bothered to get up off their backsides and look for work.

Question 41 – How do you usually travel to work?  There was no option for ‘I walk down the stairs’.

My long term plan is now to obtain employment compiling the next census form with questions that are useful to the local community, name the criminal fraternity and dodgy MP’s with inflated expense accounts and are published for all to see.  Data Protection Act?  What is all that about then?  Perhaps there could be a section for providing tasty and easy recipes to assist reluctant (make that very reluctant) cooks like me.  How about a question asking who knows the names of the little yobs that continually knock and run from my front door?  I fully expect them to still be doing it by the time the next census is due.  In fact, it will probably be their own kids who are at it by then.  Should I fail in my plan to work on the census team, then there may be an opening for me on Grumpy Old Women – move over Jenny Eclair.

Oh good grief.................I have just realised that by the next census I will be almost retirement age.  Looks like I had better start replying to the emails I keep receiving for powered mobility scooters, incontinence materials and arthritis potions.  I expect the missing Christmas post will still not have arrived by 2021 either.