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Thing of the Day

The Survey: One Leg Called George


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~My ickle big sis!~

~Andy, everybody's favourite Spunklet! I recommend the shark film~

 
Kelly's eye number 1, two little ducks number 2, what's 3 again?

Hello again, I return to spill my mental guts to you, my usual drivel. And if it posted my last one twice, well that's how much this machine loves me.

So the main event of yesterday was my long-awaited shopping trip with two of my best friends. Why was it long awaited I expected to hear you ask (but you remain depressingly silent)? Because I'm a lazy arse... and it was one of them's birthday on Wednesday so I got to give her her birthday present finally. I think she liked it, it was cute and I think she likes cute. You better, Fiona! But I won't tell you about that, I don't thinky you'd be very interested. But I did have another caffe mocha thing, considering I don't usuaaly have coffee that's more intersting for me. Plus it has hot chocolate and whipped cream in it, so I'll leave you to put 2 and 2 together.

But yesterday we got a letter addressed to a Mr Gaud, and our surname being Field, we thought it was another wrong address. There was a time when we used to get letters for a Mr Patel, but that stopped after a while. So wrongly addressed letters are not new. But this one was from British Gas and informed Mr Gaud/us that they would glady supply Mr Gaud/us with electricity and gas, and, though it did not say as such, discreetly told Mr Gaud/us that it would cost the earth to transfer. Well no thank you! My mother wrote a large note in thick black pen on it telling them that she didn't want their electricity. So onto the next letter we move. This one was from BT and told us that we had requested our line to be changed to a different name and if we didn't request otherwise by the day before yesterday, it would be changed. It was addressed a day before we were supposed to complain by, and was sent 2nd class. Good one BT! But we managed to sort it out, we are not the Gauds. But today someone rang to tell us that Mr Gaud wants to move in again. I don't think so Mr Gaud!

Anything else? Oh yes, the results of my survey. I'm thinking of putting it on it's own page, I have to draw the graph yet. Entitled 'One Leg Called George', it has no real purpose but did no harm.

I might also do a page of 'Thing of the Day', which may be a weird word, things not known by very many people, a quote or perhaps an interesting website. If you want me to advertise your site on this page, send your web address to me at soozawooza@hotmail.com and I'll check it out and think about it. But no promises!

Little note for you, the date of publish is not usually the date of writing. So expect a few days between the writing of posts if they're published one after the other. Toodle pip!

 
Look! Second entry! Has it taken long? How often are these things usually updated? I don't know.

But anyway, here I am, back for more. The crowd bays for blood, but I'm afraid all I can offer is a wet bank holiday and Thorpe Park. Let's start at the start:

So the August bank holiday came sneaking round again. Any excuse to do permanent harm to both yourself and your house for many people, but not us. Oh no, we don't 'do' it ourselves, it's very rarely done at all! But next door were banging and crashing all day (and banging all night) so I retrated to my shed. My shed is not any kind of shack, shrine or secret hideout for my Get Along style gang, it's just a shed, just in case you were wondering. Anyway! I was sitting in there apparently doing maths homework, but you know how it is. So there I was, listening to the radio when I wasn't reading, and they were talking about bombing Iraq (like that's anything new!), and I was considering other great out-of-hand intenational pissing contests. Aside from imperialism, the biggest one has to be WW1, that all-encompassing tragedy stretched over 4 years, which saw men shot for not wanting to die - find me the logic - and aimless running into hails of bullets to gain territory. And all because some trigger-happy twat decided to shoot the rich guy!

But I didn't bother listening much in history class, they only taught us crap stuff like what Roman women wore and how underfloor heating worked, and the Tudors! Oh how I learned about the Tudors! Do I want to hear about some fat old man who gets it regular? No! Do I want to hear about how his daughter burned people for believing in essentially the same god but in a slightly different way? No! I want to learn about Druid sacrifices and Greek gods! I want to know how Ghengis Khan managed to conquer most of Asia and then die by falling off his horse! I don't really care that India was basically enslaved by mad dogs and over-dressed English men, I want to know how India won her inddependence from its far off oppressors! Is curriculum history designed to estrange us from the subject, only drawing us back in with promises of school trips to London? History in school could be so gripping, but so much of it will never be used again as long as we live unless we become historians.

Ah, that's better now that's off my chest. But that is a lot of what I was thinking in my shed. Note how I started off with war and ended with moaning. Is that the story of my life?

So yesterday I wake up to be told I'm going to Thorpe Park (a reasonabe-sized theme park by most standards, crap by the standards of those people who have holidays in the sun at any spare moment). So yes, I ended up, at 10:00 in the morning, winging my way down the M25 towards Thorpe Park. I won't give you all the trashy details, and I tell you now I did not go in the shop and buy the complete Thorpe Park production line... I still have a rubber from when I went there about 8 years ago. But they've got that new 10 loop rollercoaster, and there's only one word for it: fuck! Sorry for all those easily offended among you, but that is THE only word I could find to describe it. 'Golly' just wasn't forceful enough. But it's got this corkscrew bit that goes round about 5 times, but I swear the whole thing has more than 10 turns! So off I got, surprisingly steadily. Next we went on 'Detonator', which sounds more like something that throws you into the sky than drops you 100 feet down a skinny pole lined with electromagnets. But we duly queued and were duly dropped 100 feet. I was going to scream as it dropped, because it really was worthy of it, but you can't! I couldn't breathe in or out, we were travelling too fast! Adreneline rushed in to replace the oxygen I wasn't getting, but I don't know what my body was thinking, because it just meant I couldn't walk in a straight line. The only other big shocking thing we wnt on was called 'Vortex', but I was more scared of the horrible girls in front of us in the queue spitting on us than of being spun in a large circle 50 feet in the air. It was disgusting! They were spitting little puddles every time the queue stopped! I would have slapped them all one after the other if it wouldn't have got my hand slobbery. Yuck! Then they exchanged belly buttons rings, how nasy does it get?! What next, live organ transplants with grubby hands? Yuck yuck yuck! Thankfully they didn't spit when we were on the ride, and if they did it would have hit them back in the face. Ha I hope it did.

I've written a lot this time, is that a bad thing? Well, it's called an outlet for my mind, this is my mind and my page so I guess you can't complain. Hopefully next time I update this I will have the results of my one-legged survey proccessed, and may have figured out how to do links and stuff on different bits of the page... well, when my sister can help me. I wasn't cut out for all this web design stuff, I just write. But as soon as I figure out how to put my email address on here you can bug me with nice things!

 
Hey, it's me! I'm the weirdo sitting on the kerbstone, I'm the kid in the sweetshop, I'm the guy that delivers your milk... OK maybe not, but I can try! I'm Suz, this is my Blog (don't expect anything too fancy too often) and this is me waffling. Be prepared for a stream of strange, nonsensical words and phrases, some of which may amuse you and some which may make you back away and bolt off in the direction of the Thames Estury (don't do it! Please God no!). So I may as well start with an explaination of who I really am, and I congratulate you if you've stuck with it this long.

Who the hell are you?!

Suz. Not your milkman, but perhaps the kid in the sweetshop, depends where you are.

Will you bite?

Unless I'm provoked, no. Or if you just happen to be made of chocolate, I may have to.

What drives you?

My mum mostly, why?

What, not who, idiot. But what stirs the passion in your soul, what makes you hold your head up and be proud to say, "I believe!"?

OK sonny Jim, no more cola for you! I'm a pacifist, does that count? I believe in the power of knowledge, wisdom and gossip, and have often found that a good sharp slap in the face clears the mind as effectively as a good night's sleep, but it gives more enjoyment to the administrator. How am I doing?

Satisfactory.

You're not the voice of God, so don't push it italics boy.

Handbags!

I'm not going to fight you!

OK. I've seen you in a bad mood. It's like Jekyll and Hyde, but you stay ugly. But anyway! Where are you?

The idyllic suburbs of London, England. The smell of the falling rain, the sight of the children playing in the streets, the sound of the boy racers going over speed humps at 80mph. Bliss!

What makes you different from all the other people I quiz, apart from you being the only one to call me sonny Jim?

Let's say your comment and mine cancel each other out. Well, there's the birthmark on my-

THAT'S NOT WHAT I MEAN AND YOU KNOW IT

Someone's tetchy today! But there's the whole matter of me being unable to conform with what my peers expect me to be, my tastes, my obscure imagination, my love-come-obsession with jewellery and the making of, yada yada yada and if I think of any more I'll tell you.

OK. So what are you doing later on?

Now you're scaring me. Do you actually have a purpose? Or do you just come across people and randomly annoy them?

I'm annoying you?

Not yet, and I won't get annoyed if you stick to the appropriate questions.

Hmmm. So why are you making this Blog?

Because I know there are people out there who will read between the lines and see what I'm really saying and what I'm really getting at, and we can nod knowingly to each other and tell abstract jokes and talk about things most people wouldn't see the point of.

These lines are quite close together, you know.

Alright now you leave. Shoo!