Friday, 27 September 2013

Month end

I have just realised it is almost - almost - the end of another month.

Stone the crows, where did the time go?

Aha. Let's see:
  • training with the Moose
  • training with the lovely lads from Rugby Pro Fit Club (there is a trade-off going on here, more about this in a future post)
  • writing business proposals for prospective new clients
  • having video/phone conference calls with colleagues and customers
  • dossing around on Facebook
  • giving free career and business advice and guidance to (at last count) seven different individuals (I should start charging for this really)
  • picking up governor duties with the school
  • wondering how did I end up being the Chair of the Resources and Finance Committee
  • probably because it sounded like a good idea
  • like moving the kids' bedrooms around
  • on my own
  • including dismantling a bunk bed, two wardrobes, a chest of drawers and a desk and then relocating them in their new 'positions'
  • and realising that IKEA has dared to change the width of its wire baskets so that I had to improvise and dig out long-forgotten DIY skills to ensure they fitted in the wardrobe that was a mere *cough* twenty years old
Don't believe me? Look:

Ta-dah

Of course, OH was underwhelmed. He (eventually) came to admire my handiwork and commented that it was "Okay," before asking what was for dinner.

"Svenska köttbullar," I replied.

Just as well he has such appalling language skills. 
He got pizza and salad instead.


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Wednesday, 11 September 2013

Revisiting the archives

Given recent developments, the sudden drop in temperature and my rapidly diminishing enthusiasm for Saturday's event in Hyde Park, I thought a visit to the LCM archives was in order.

You may then understand the 'killer wetsuit' reference.



All together now. "Come back summer!"


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Friday, 6 September 2013

What the eye sees - 'Tats for you' special edition


So, how long? This long. Since snapping and posting, that is.

I have been busy. Get over it.

I have also been prompted by something that OH said about David Beckham's tattoos, and how they are (I quote) "Not as sharp as they used to be and starting to blur at the edges."
So I googled this, as you do. Great excuse for a gratuitous photo.

DB - tats and undies
(c) Daily Mail Snail Fail

Not quite, it would seem, but then again only a matter of time before the skin sags, the wrinkles get beyond botox, and the ink fades.

Let's be clear - I admire some tattoos and am impressed by the creativity and the artwork that goes in to them. Some of the best I have ever seen were in Brazil, truly incredible.

However. Sometimes I do wonder what people were thinking. Or even if they were thinking in the first place.

Here's what I mean:

A rabid bulldog on your inner calf?
Are you proposing to have 'beware of the dog' added to this gem?

Okay, I get it.
It's a sock line.
As in a "pull up to here" marker.

Miss! Miss! What's the time please?

Oh. Your clock is broken?
And you cannot perform an Exorcist manoeuvre to see it anyway?
Hmmm. Bummer.

And the caption is?

Weren't we always told "No guts, no glory"?
Hey ho. He wasn't English speaking anyway.
Risk, smisk. Same thing. Mañana amigo.

And then there was this. Which, whilst pretty impressive, did have me loitering around this fellow's shadow* for a while trying to figure out what it might look like in twenty years' time. 

Answers on a postcard please.

What on earth...?

Methinks Oriental landscape depiction.
Or possibly after-effects of a fart gone terrible wrong.
Note to all: stay upwind.

* In answer to the obvious question: no, there was never any risk of being a) sprung, or b) arrested, because a) I am subtle, and b) I have children and can shout very loudly. Just ask the neighbours.


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