Weird ad copy just hit my inbox:
“You have to feel sorry for those Tudor types, wandering around in flowing robes, tripping over their skirts with nothing but a flickering candle to guide them in the dark. Thanks to the miracle of electricity, candles can now be used for fashion rather than function, freeing up wax to perform a much more valuable service…Brazilian waxes”
It’s 5.30 and I’ve been up all night/morning working, so I’m wondering whether this is as bizarre as I think or whether it’s just me being a bit spaced out.
Mr Beet and I went to the travel agent to get some quotes for our round the world trip. Still haven’t booked anything though, mainly because we’re now thinking of changing our itinerary to include South America (Chile, Bolivia, Peru) rather than Southern Africa (South Africa, Namibia). Got a decent quote, but I did lose confidence in our travel agent somewhat when she had to use a calculator to add £1,000 to £1,800.
Why is the man advertising waxing and threading dressed like a squirrel?
Oh… he’s meant to be a beaver. I get it. I hope for his sake he’s not one of those exploding Latvian beavers.
I left my hat in Boots today and I went back after work to see if anybody had handed it in.
“Hello, has anybody handed in a hat?”
“What does it look like?”
“It’s a woolly hat and it’s green and grey.”
“I’ll go and look…”
“Ummm…I’m afraid this is all I could find.”
You mean, all you can find is an item that exactly matches the description I just gave you.
It may be that I lose things more frequently than the average person, but I always seem to have odd conversations with lost property people. I once left a tae kwon do flag at my local station:
“Hello, I think I lost a flag here yesterday.”
“Can you describe the flag?”
I don’t know how many flags he had in his small lost property cardboard box. Obviously several.
I think the weirdest one was when I left a glove on a bus. I didn’t need to give a description, I had the other glove to show the lost property person. She took it away and had a look through the lost property and came back with my stripy glove in one hand and a purple child’s glove in the other. No… no, that isn’t it.
In New York last week I chased after a woman who had dropped $50 in the street to return it to her. She said “You’re a good girl – you’re going to Heaven today.” Which, when you think about it, is a really dreadful thing to say to someone. I looked twice before crossing the road in front of those unpredictable NY cabs for the rest of the day!
Facebook has informed that a recently married friend has changed her name. Even though this is a depressingly frequent occurrence, I’m always a bit surprised when people I know make this choice. A quick facebook census shows me that out of 30 married women among my friends (most of whom are university-educated professionals in their twenties):
18 have changed their names
7 have kept their maiden names
1 has gone double-barrelled
3 are married to other women (none of them have changed their names)
1 has conveniently married someone with the same name
Seriously 18 of you – what the hell do you think you are doing? Unless your surname is “Bottomley-Ballsack” or something, then there’s simply no excuse for this kind of behaviour.
My insect bite from last week is still festering away, but also the one I got two weeks before that, which had hitherto been relatively small compared to its ginormous cousin on my thigh, has started to get red and swollen again after 3 weeks. I didn’t like the idea of a bite that’s getting worse after 3 weeks, so I rang NHS Direct for their wisdom.
“Hello, I have an insect bite on my leg that I’m a bit concerned about.”
“OK, bites… bites… Were you bitten by a human or a snake?”
Yes you’re right, now I come to think of it, it wasn’t an insect at all it was a cobra.
Man approaches me in street: “No strings attached.”
Man “Your bag – no strings attached.” He points to my back pack – the chest straps are untied and dangling down.
Man ” Have you heard that phrase? It means single and having fun.”
Man “Your bag just reminded me of that phrase.”
I’m now wondering whether I was inadvertantly giving out some kind of secret signal where undone straps is code for being up for it.
Is it the name of the cake or a serving suggestion?
Because I am neither insane, nor shortsighted enough to mistake a weetabix for a scone.