Some days, she said they're through, I always knew she'd leave again.
Some days, she lied through her teeth, she'll be back with Keith some day.
I was thinking about crisps today. I was also eating some.
Three o'clock in the afternoon is never a good time to have lunch because it's too near to tea time and if you eat anything then you run the risk of ruining your tea but if you don't eat anything then you feel really fucking hungry. So I had an egg, mayo and watercress sarnie and some crisps.
Who the fuckety fuck thought it would be a good idea to put watercress in an egg mayo sarnie?
Who the fuckety fuck thought it would be a good idea to put watercress in anything?
Who the fuckety fuck thought it would be a good idea to invent watercress?
I aint got a fucking clue.
Anyhoo, I digress. I was talking about crisps. You get crisps, which are fattening and you get get crisps that are fat-friendly, ie they help towards losing weight as part of a balanced diet.
You also get crinkle crisps, which by there very nature, well shape, are more fattening for you as they have more surface area to soak up the fatty things that make you fat. A bit like roast potatoes. The smaller you make them the worse they are for you.
So, my point is, if you get diet crinkle crisps are they better for you than ordinary diet crisps?
As diet crisps help you lose weight, and crinkle crisps have more surface area on them, then theory has it that they must have good stuff on them which will make you lose more weight.
The answer, therefore, is to make bigger, more crinkly diet crisps for all weight-loss wanting crisp addicts.
Everyone's a winner.
I had to go to the Bank today, to pay in a cheque. There were five tills, but only three open (surprisingly) and a big queue. So I stood in the queue and waited. And waited. And waited.
I then noticed it was half past eleven and my car was parked on a meter that ran out at 1150hrs. Twenty minutes, I thought, plenty.
By the time I got to being the next-but-one in the queue it was twenty to twelve. The bank was a five minute walk from my car, but I only had one cheque to pay in.
I thin noticed three other tills, beyond the five (three) I was queuing for. And I saw a sign. The sign bore the legend "Premier and Business Customers Only, Queue Here".
Well, it was a business cheque I was paying in, and the queue was a lot shorter so I could have fucking kicked myslef. But then, the bloke in front of me was served and I was next.
Then I thought, 'I bet these tills are only for "Non-Premier and Business Customers Only' and when I get there I will get told that they cannot take my cheque and will be directed to the quieter tills.
Quarter to twelve and it's my turn. I apprehensively approach the desk, meekly hand over
He seemed to look at the cheque, look at me, look at his screen, look at the cheque, look at me and look back down. I was still holding my breath. He was still looking. I was checking the clock. He was looking. I was holding. The tension was unbearable and my lungs were fit to burst.
Finally, finally he stamped the cheque, smiled and asked me if I required any other service.
I was too out of breath to answer.
I just got back in time for me car.
I've said before (I think, I'll check later) but I am growing a moustache for Movember.
No bastard has sponsored me yet, apart from an anonymous donation of £10 and I'm pretty sure who that was. So take a look. That's me, 8th November, 22 days to go.
If you don't know what it is for, click the link to my Movember homepage, it's top left of this page.
And while you are there, make a donation. Small or larger, it don't matter. Size DOESN'T matter, not in this case, and you can even do it anonymously if you wish.
And boys, don't be afraid to have a good feel down there, purely for health reasons.............