Not the sort of news that I wanted to get.
I’ve just had a ‘phone call from Julian - his partner has been rushed into hospital with Pneumonia, and is seriously ill. That's not the worst part - Quentin has got non-Hodgkins lymphoma, and has only just recovered from a course of chemo.
We'd been planning our normal New Year bash - i.e. out to dinner, go and make idiots of ourselves on the dance floor of our favourite club, and then pile into our normal Balti-hut for breakfast.
That was the plan. But this news has really gone and scuppered everything, and Julian feels that he's let me and the rest of the gang down. OK - I can't speak for the rest of the group that I knock around with, but Jules is a victim of this rotten bug that has put Quentin in hospital.
As far as I'm concerned, my New Year can be re-arranged - all I want is Quentin fit and well - not to mention putting Ricky Martin to shame with the swivelling hips on the dance floor!
Time to call this quits - I said that I would go to the hospital with Jules.
No idea when I'll get chance to put finger to keyboard again, so I'll try my best to keep notes on the ups and downs...
Back when time allows.
Karen
Learning to fly, but I don't have wings
A turkey's idea of Christmas?
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Karen
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Merry Christmas to one and all
Karen
Learning to fly, but I don't have wings
Chilling out before Christmas
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Karen
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There's something magical about seeing someone you love just before Christmas - and that's what I've been lucky enough to do this weekend.
I’d arranged to meet my beloved at the Green Man pub / restaurant, with the idea being that it was a weekend for the pair of us to kick back, shut out the world and spend some time together – with no-one demanding that we pay attention to them.
All I will say is that I’m nicely chilled out, and am ready to face the madness that is Christmas, and that nothing will be able to rattle my confidence.
Time to call this quits – I’ve still got a few bits and pieces to sort out…
Karen
Learning to fly, but I don’t have wings
I’d arranged to meet my beloved at the Green Man pub / restaurant, with the idea being that it was a weekend for the pair of us to kick back, shut out the world and spend some time together – with no-one demanding that we pay attention to them.
All I will say is that I’m nicely chilled out, and am ready to face the madness that is Christmas, and that nothing will be able to rattle my confidence.
Time to call this quits – I’ve still got a few bits and pieces to sort out…
Karen
Learning to fly, but I don’t have wings
Something to sum up Christmas....
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Karen
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Occasionally, you come across a real gem - and I think this is one!
Enjoy.
Karen
Learning to fly, but I don't have wings
*************************************************
A Christmas Story
'Twas the night before Christmas - old Santa was pissed.
He cussed out the elves and threw down his list.
Miserable little brats, ungrateful little jerks.
I have a good mind to scrap the whole works!
I've busted my ass for damn near a year,
Instead of "Thanks Santa" - what do I hear?
The old lady bitches 'cause I work late at night.
The elves want more money - the reindeer all fight.
Rudolph got drunk and goosed all the maids.
Donner is pregnant and Vixen has AIDS.
And just when I thought that things would get better
Those assholes from the IRS sent me a letter,
They say I owe taxes - if that ain't funny
Who the hell ever sent Santa Claus any money?
And the kids these days - they all are the pits
They want the impossible - those mean little shits
I spent a whole year making wagons and sleds
Assembling dolls - their arms, legs, and heads
I made a ton of yo yo's - no request for them,
They want computers and robots...they think I'm IBM!
Flying through the air...dodging the trees
Falling down chimneys and skinning my knees
I'm quitting this job there's just no enjoyment
I'll sit on my fat ass and draw unemployment.
There's no Christmas this year now you know the reason,
I found me a blonde - I'm going SOUTH for the season.
Enjoy.
Karen
Learning to fly, but I don't have wings
*************************************************
A Christmas Story
'Twas the night before Christmas - old Santa was pissed.
He cussed out the elves and threw down his list.
Miserable little brats, ungrateful little jerks.
I have a good mind to scrap the whole works!
I've busted my ass for damn near a year,
Instead of "Thanks Santa" - what do I hear?
The old lady bitches 'cause I work late at night.
The elves want more money - the reindeer all fight.
Rudolph got drunk and goosed all the maids.
Donner is pregnant and Vixen has AIDS.
And just when I thought that things would get better
Those assholes from the IRS sent me a letter,
They say I owe taxes - if that ain't funny
Who the hell ever sent Santa Claus any money?
And the kids these days - they all are the pits
They want the impossible - those mean little shits
I spent a whole year making wagons and sleds
Assembling dolls - their arms, legs, and heads
I made a ton of yo yo's - no request for them,
They want computers and robots...they think I'm IBM!
Flying through the air...dodging the trees
Falling down chimneys and skinning my knees
I'm quitting this job there's just no enjoyment
I'll sit on my fat ass and draw unemployment.
There's no Christmas this year now you know the reason,
I found me a blonde - I'm going SOUTH for the season.
The apparent taming of Hell's kitten....
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Karen
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Well, Splodge seems to be behaving herself at the moment, and I’m not quite sure why.
She came and curled up on the sofa next to me, and seemed content to snooze without trying to bite / claw me or force me off the sofa so that she could have it to herself.
Why she’s decided to bury the hatchet (or rather claws & fangs) with me is a mystery to me, but who am I to look a gift horse (or in this case - cat) in the mouth.
Whatever the reason, I’m going to make the most of it – but there is no way I’m going to trust her whilst I’m asleep – the only cat that will share my bed for the time being is Fred!
Time to call this quits – I’m off to feed the furry fiends
Back later…
Karen
Learning to fly, but I don’t have wings
She came and curled up on the sofa next to me, and seemed content to snooze without trying to bite / claw me or force me off the sofa so that she could have it to herself.
Why she’s decided to bury the hatchet (or rather claws & fangs) with me is a mystery to me, but who am I to look a gift horse (or in this case - cat) in the mouth.
Whatever the reason, I’m going to make the most of it – but there is no way I’m going to trust her whilst I’m asleep – the only cat that will share my bed for the time being is Fred!
Time to call this quits – I’m off to feed the furry fiends
Back later…
Karen
Learning to fly, but I don’t have wings
Trying to tame Hell's kitten
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Karen
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I swear if I shaved Splodge, I would find the number "666" tattooed under the fur. Mum can't understand why I've taken such a dislike to the evil little swine – but it’s not her feet that are bearing the imprint (and more) of her needle-sharp teeth and claws.
Even poor little Fred isn’t safe from her spite. All he wants is somewhere warm and safe to curl up and sleep for as long as he likes – without spiteful interference.
I keep being told by people allegedly in the know, that Splodge is only reacting like this, because she’s trying to find her place in the bigger scheme of things. Crap. She’s just spiteful!
But, I guess that I should give the evil little sod the benefit of the doubt and try bribing her to be nice to me… I have no idea why she’s taken such a dislike to me, but if I want to be able to walk around the house in bare feet safely, then I’ll have to see how things pan out…
Time to call this entry quits – I’ve got to try and make peace with hell’s kitten.
Back later if I’ve not been ripped to shreds…
Karen
Learning to fly, but I don't have wings
Even poor little Fred isn’t safe from her spite. All he wants is somewhere warm and safe to curl up and sleep for as long as he likes – without spiteful interference.
I keep being told by people allegedly in the know, that Splodge is only reacting like this, because she’s trying to find her place in the bigger scheme of things. Crap. She’s just spiteful!
But, I guess that I should give the evil little sod the benefit of the doubt and try bribing her to be nice to me… I have no idea why she’s taken such a dislike to me, but if I want to be able to walk around the house in bare feet safely, then I’ll have to see how things pan out…
Time to call this entry quits – I’ve got to try and make peace with hell’s kitten.
Back later if I’ve not been ripped to shreds…
Karen
Learning to fly, but I don't have wings
Hell's kitten has invaded my home....
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Karen
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And I'm not happy. Mum and I went to the local cat's protection shelter, where she fell for this little ball of tabby fur, with a white patch on it's head. I said that it looked like a splodge of paint on it's head, and walked out.
Little did I realise that whilst I was outside, Mum was making the necessary arrangements to adopt the spiteful ball of fur that has become the bane of my life (not to mention my bare feet!)
Even though I have voiced my disapproval / dislike of this hellish kitten, Mum has fallen for it's sweet and allegedly innocent appearance - despite the fact that she terrorises Fred - who hasn't got a mean bone in his furry little body.
And before I get suggestions about trying to bribe the kitten into being my friend / that it's only reacting like this because it's scared, etc - forget it. It's a little horror, and I would give anything to have the Pont back - so he could show it (Splodge) who's boss - and it sure as hell isn't Hell's Kitten!
Back when I've fed Fred and the demon....
Karen
Learning to fly, but I don't have wings
Little did I realise that whilst I was outside, Mum was making the necessary arrangements to adopt the spiteful ball of fur that has become the bane of my life (not to mention my bare feet!)
Even though I have voiced my disapproval / dislike of this hellish kitten, Mum has fallen for it's sweet and allegedly innocent appearance - despite the fact that she terrorises Fred - who hasn't got a mean bone in his furry little body.
And before I get suggestions about trying to bribe the kitten into being my friend / that it's only reacting like this because it's scared, etc - forget it. It's a little horror, and I would give anything to have the Pont back - so he could show it (Splodge) who's boss - and it sure as hell isn't Hell's Kitten!
Back when I've fed Fred and the demon....
Karen
Learning to fly, but I don't have wings
An attempt at the Darwin award....
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Karen
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I make no comment on this - mine is but to post such little gems....
Karen
Learning to fly, but I don't have wings
*************************************************
This is a bricklayer's accident report, which was printed in the newsletter of the Australian Workers' Compensation Board.
This is a true story. Had this guy died, he'd have received a Darwin Award for sure....
Dear Sir:
I am writing in response to your request for additional information in Block 3 of the accident report form. I put "poor planning" as the cause of my accident. You asked for a fuller explanation and I trust the following details will be sufficient.
I am a bricklayer by trade. On the day of the accident, I was working alone on the roof of a new six story building. When I completed my work, I found that I had some bricks left over which, when weighed later, were found to be slightly in excess of 500 lbs..
Rather than carry the bricks down by hand, I decided to lower them in abarrel by using a pulley, which was attached to the side of the building on the sixth floor. Securing the rope at ground level, I went up to the roof, swung the barrel out and loaded the bricks into it. Then I went down and untied the rope, holding it tightly to ensure a slow descent of the bricks.
You will note in Block 11 of the accident report form that I weigh 175lbs. Due to my surprise at being jerked off the ground so suddenly, I lost my presence of mind and forgot to let go of the rope. Needless to say, I proceeded at a rapid rate up the side of the building.
In the vicinity of the third floor, I met the barrel which was now proceeding downward at an equally impressive speed.This explained the fractured skull, minor abrasions and the broken collar bone, as listed in section 3 of the accident report form.
Slowed only slightly, I continued my rapid ascent, not stopping unti lthe fingers of my right hand were two knuckles deep into the pulley. Fortunately, by this time I had regained my presence of mind and was able to hold tightly to the rope in spite of beginning to experience a great deal of pain.
At approximately the same time, however, the barrel of bricks hit the ground and the bottom fell out of the barrel. Now devoid of the weight of the bricks, that barrel weighed approximately 50 lbs.
I refer you again to my weight. As you can imagine, I began a rapid descent, down the side of the building. In the vicinity of the third floor, I met the barrel coming up. This accounts for the two fractured ankles, broken tooth and several lacerations of my legs and lower body.
Here my luck began to change slightly. The encounter with the barrel seemed to slow me enough to lessen my injuries when I fell into the pile of bricks and fortunately only three vertebrae were cracked.
I am sorry to report, however, as I lay there on the pile of bricks, in pain, unable to move, I again lost my composure and presence of mind and let go of the rope and I lay there watching the empty barrel begin its journey back down onto me.
This explains the two broken legs.
I hope this answers your inquiry.
Karen
Learning to fly, but I don't have wings
*************************************************
This is a bricklayer's accident report, which was printed in the newsletter of the Australian Workers' Compensation Board.
This is a true story. Had this guy died, he'd have received a Darwin Award for sure....
Dear Sir:
I am writing in response to your request for additional information in Block 3 of the accident report form. I put "poor planning" as the cause of my accident. You asked for a fuller explanation and I trust the following details will be sufficient.
I am a bricklayer by trade. On the day of the accident, I was working alone on the roof of a new six story building. When I completed my work, I found that I had some bricks left over which, when weighed later, were found to be slightly in excess of 500 lbs..
Rather than carry the bricks down by hand, I decided to lower them in abarrel by using a pulley, which was attached to the side of the building on the sixth floor. Securing the rope at ground level, I went up to the roof, swung the barrel out and loaded the bricks into it. Then I went down and untied the rope, holding it tightly to ensure a slow descent of the bricks.
You will note in Block 11 of the accident report form that I weigh 175lbs. Due to my surprise at being jerked off the ground so suddenly, I lost my presence of mind and forgot to let go of the rope. Needless to say, I proceeded at a rapid rate up the side of the building.
In the vicinity of the third floor, I met the barrel which was now proceeding downward at an equally impressive speed.This explained the fractured skull, minor abrasions and the broken collar bone, as listed in section 3 of the accident report form.
Slowed only slightly, I continued my rapid ascent, not stopping unti lthe fingers of my right hand were two knuckles deep into the pulley. Fortunately, by this time I had regained my presence of mind and was able to hold tightly to the rope in spite of beginning to experience a great deal of pain.
At approximately the same time, however, the barrel of bricks hit the ground and the bottom fell out of the barrel. Now devoid of the weight of the bricks, that barrel weighed approximately 50 lbs.
I refer you again to my weight. As you can imagine, I began a rapid descent, down the side of the building. In the vicinity of the third floor, I met the barrel coming up. This accounts for the two fractured ankles, broken tooth and several lacerations of my legs and lower body.
Here my luck began to change slightly. The encounter with the barrel seemed to slow me enough to lessen my injuries when I fell into the pile of bricks and fortunately only three vertebrae were cracked.
I am sorry to report, however, as I lay there on the pile of bricks, in pain, unable to move, I again lost my composure and presence of mind and let go of the rope and I lay there watching the empty barrel begin its journey back down onto me.
This explains the two broken legs.
I hope this answers your inquiry.
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