Showing posts with label Blogging A to Z. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Blogging A to Z. Show all posts

Monday, April 17, 2017

M is for Mechanophilia

Yep, I wasn't entirely sure what "Mechanophilia" meant either until a few days ago, during a restless night, I popped over to The Daily Mail for my regular dose of dubious news reporting and read this article.

Now if you can't be bothered to read the article. I'll sum it up:

It was about a man who was recently prosecuted for trying to have sex with a Suzuki motorbike. Yes, men don't just do it with sheep. They also do it with bikes, cars and probably the No 43 bus from Paddington to Tottenham Court Road.

I also have it on very good authority from a friend who is a consultant radiologist they do it with a number of other interesting objects. To which I say:

Never buy a second-hand vacuum cleaner.

Anyway,  back to the article at The Daily Mail. Now I imagine when I first read this article I probably reacted something like this:

Then very quickly I felt like this:



Then I went into one of my writer's fantasies and wondered what would happen if the offender encountered one of these:


Then I thought:

What the hell... why don't I just write a story featuring myself a kick-ass heroine who rescues the world from a bunch of crazed mechaanophiliacs   mecaniphicacs   mechani  weirdos who like to shag cars.





So watch this space. I have a feeling my next work could be my ManBooker prize winning novel.


Friday, April 7, 2017

G is for Glasses

Tihs posst waaaaaaas going tto be aboooutttt "gulags  "  so i loook bra iny as I''m worrird peopke mifgt thimk I'm stipid/

Bit i can@T  finnd  my asses.

GLLASSES

('m hopping I wil l fiiiid theeeeeM by tomotoe/

TOMMORROE

Leavvvvvw ideas for H pleass/

fetting old is shhit/

Monday, April 4, 2016

C is for the Christmas Male Office Dancer

So today I am going to talk about a type of man women rarely see: the male office dancer.  In fact, I am going to be quite specific I am going to talk about the Christmas Male Office Dancer which is an even rarer beast. Now Christmas Male Office Dancers are very peculiar creatures and are slightly different to the Male Wedding Dancer and the Male Birthday Dancer in that the Christmas Male Office Dancer is provided with free beer by his employer as opposed to free beer by his mates or relatives. The thought of the Christman Male Office Dancer’s boss footing the drinks bill always tempts the Male Office Dancer into excessive over-indulgence resulting in a devil-may-care attitude. This, in turn, leads to the Christmas Male Office Dancer watering the office plants with vodka martinis, photocopying his arse and sending it to the MD from his boss’s email address, and vomiting in his boss’s wastepaper basket. But, worse than all of these horrors, his over-indulgence leads to what The Christmas Male Office Dancer is famed for – non-stop boogying.

There are a number of common features to the three phases in the Christmas Male Office Dancer’s routine. These are:

Phase One - The Slightly Inebriated Stage

Arms to side, fingers pointing like a cowboy in a wild-west shoot-out, mild hip thrusting. Usually attempting to move rhythmically but actually inflicting heavy bruising on his partner's feet or, if approaching the second stage, inflicting partial blindness. Miming (badly) to I was made for Dancin' by Leif Garrett, Dancing Queen by Abba or, if you're really unlucky, Contact by Edwin Starr. If the opening bars of Contact result in the Male Office Dancer clapping and grinning like the Cheshire Cat it is advisable to:

a) take cover behind the filing cabinets
b) secure the windows and doors,
c) ring for an ambulance.


Phase Two - The Wholly Inebriated Stage

Legs jerking all over the place, arms waving up and down aka John Travolta in Saturday Night Fever, intense hip grinding and thrusting. Frequent screams, whoops and winking whilst rubbing crotch and whispering incoherent beer babble in the nearest woman’s ear. This babble is usually an attempt to get a telephone number or, if the Male Office Dancer is married, a plea for sex in the rear seat of his car – although it sounds more like a precursor to a heavy bout of vomiting. The opening notes of Thriller, Last Christmas or Hi Ho Silver Lining will result in the Male Office Dancer giving rapturous applause or leaping up and down like a pneumatic drill or (worst case scenario) should he have taken a toilet break, running back from the bathroom screaming "This is my favourite song ever!" and grabbing the nearest person. Unfortunately, this is usually either the woman from HR, the lesbian girlfriend of the woman from HR or his boss. He will then pull his victim to the centre of the dance floor and perform wild sexual gyrations whilst telling them that he loves them and wants to have their babies. This usually signifies:

 a) the end of his marriage
 b) the end of his career
 c) a spell in rehab
 d) All three.

Phase Three - The Totally Legless Stage

There is very little dancing in this stage which is characterized by vague head movements, mouth opening and closing like a fish, and saliva dribbling from the corner of the mouth. At some point, the Male Office Dancer will collapse onto the floor with other Male Office Dancers of a similar disposition. The sign of impending group Male Office Dancers’ unconsciousness is when they all form a long chain sitting behind each other, legs apart, and rock from side-to-side to the tune of Oops Upside Your Head by The Gap Band. As they start to sway and wave their arms to the beat of the song the hypnotic effect of the motion takes effect and, one by one, they keel over and slip into a deep coma. If this happens it is advisable to:

 a) remove all their car keys
 b) turn off the music
 c) tread carefully towards the exit.

So there you have it: the Christmas Male Office Dancer. A rare but dangerous breed of man. Almost as deluded as Air Guitar Man. (See my letter A!)

Unfortunately, it's not only men who affected by Oops Upside Your Head. Check out this video!




Friday, April 1, 2016

A is for Air Guitar

Okay, so today I am going to talk about air guitars.

So I looked up "air guitar" in the Turley English Dictionary and it gave the following definition:

An imaginary guitar (instrument) played by Homo Stupidus, a subcategory of the male Homo Sapien species.  Air guitar is commonly played by the Homo Stupidus during a mid-life crisis but it can also affect the pubescent male and the geriatric male of the species. The early-onset of airguitaritis (air-g-ti-tis) in the pubescent male usually leads to severe complications in adult life including rheumatism, earache, marriage breakdown and a reputation as a complete twat. Late diagnosis of airguitaritis usually leads to incarceration in a specialist mental health clinic.
Homo Stupidus wearing his standard Friday night attire. Sadly, the love-heart boxers do not attract females only other air-guitarists which can lead to worrying displays of male bonding.

Now,  for all you ladies out there who have had the misfortune to marry a gentleman with an air guitar fetish let me give you my Top Ten Tips for dealing with this unwholesome situation:

1. Divorce your Homo Stupidus. (You know it makes sense.)

2. Have him incarcerated in an asylum on the grounds of mental instability and emotional abuse.

3 Jump up and down on his air guitar whilst singing "Beat it" by Michael Jackson.

4. Send a dubious brown package to Eric Clapton. It does not have to contain Semtex (which is preferable) but just the thought of blowing up Eric Clapton will make you feel a whole lot better.

5. Start performing imaginary cooking, imaginary housekeeping and imaginary ironing. Air-ironing
is particularly effective as a way to disarm the working Homo-Stupidus.

6. Ask your Homo Stupidus if he is also performing imaginary sex because you haven't had an orgasm since 1993.

7. Ask your Homo Stupidus is he would like his air-guitar restringing. If he says "Yes" mark that down in your little black book so your attorney can cite it as evidence in the divorce proceedings.

8. Write a kiss and tell article for The Daily Mail. "My Life Of Hell With A Man Who Preferred His Air Guitar Over Sex" will propel you to instant fame and fortune. You'll be commissioned for your autobiography, a film and make a whole stack of cash. If you're really clever and manage to get an imaginary wizard into your biography you will become even more famous.

9. Stick his head in the oven.

10. Put on your earmuffs and tell him he is not playing loud enough. While he performs even more wild air guitar manoeuvres video him and then post the clip on YouTube with the caption "Man Found Wandering In Borneo Jungle Seeks Mate". Also tweet the footage using the hash tags #fuckingbonkers #saveme

So there you have it. A is for air guitar - accompanied by some sound and ever thoughtful advice from Mrs T.  See you tomorrow!



The Witty Woman Is Still Not Dead

The news is I am not yet dead. But I am now 61. Jesus. That’s on the outside lane to six foot under. However, I haven’t quite reached the st...