So last week was half term in the UK and I was out and about with the boys attending tennis tournaments and cricket matches so not a lot of writing was done. In fact, a big fat zero! However, in between all the dashing around I did spot this at the bottom of my drive. I need evidence. It rather tickled me. Someone at Sky obviously has a sense of humour – or they’re very overconfident about their customer service. You’d never see a statement like that on a BT (British Telecommunications) van – it would cause riots in the streets. Now here’s my question to you: What should the by-line be on a British Telecommunications (BT) van? Expect some answers from me in due course. In the meantime, for a Mrs T BT rant, I suggest reading this post.

So after a few days break from blogging and the A to Z challenge, I’m back! Now for some of those days I was transfixed by the TV coverage of the UK General Election, but for another three days I was at a tennis tournament with Master Benedict during which I spent two nights in a rather grubby hotel in London. “Grubby” seems a suitable description for that hell-hole of a place. In fact, I could spend the whole blog whinging about it. Briefly; the shower only had two settings (freezing cold/scalding hot) which was made even more difficult to regulate because the handle fell off, the room keys didn’t work, two of our rooms were in another building, they didn’t take credit cards and (horror upon horrors) there was no bacon and tomato ketchup at breakfast. However, instead of whinging too much and boring the pants of you all I

There was a young man called Zachary Who invented a very big battery One day it corroded Ruptured and exploded And blew Zachary into lots of tiny tiny pieces Well I like to experiment with everything on this blog. Poetry is obviously is not my forte. Although perhaps slightly better than my haikus. Oh well. You can’t win ’em all. A is for Arses and Aidan   B is for Bullshit  C is for Chinese Crispy Duck and the Conservative Party.  D is for Diarrhea, Dinosaurs and Depauperation  E is for Eulogy for the Earth  F is for Ferrero Rocher G is for Guns and Girls   H is for Hope and Horny Jelly Men   I is for Igloos, Ignorance and Iguanas   J is for Jason Statham   K is for Kings and Kinkiness   L is for Love, Loss and Laughter, M is for Moaning and Monopoly, N is for No, O is for Oranges P is for Johnny Potato VC R is for Random Musings, S is

What I want to know is how do people in Austria and Germany live with all that unbearable yodelling echoing down the mountains, blasting around your head and giving you 24 hour non-stop migraines? It’s no wonder Hitler was insane. No doubt he spent a tortured youth being subjected to hours of incessant yodelling. It must have been like having severe tinnitus whilst simultaneously having your head trapped between two cymbals. You know, I’m really surprised some great historian like A J P Taylor never came up with yodelling as a suggestion for the cause of Hitler’s insanity. So I’m going to change all that today. Now my historical credentials are excellent as I have a degree in History and this means that no one can challenge my expertise (much). The fact that I haven’t looked at a history book for thirty years should be not be an issue as,

It’s time for one of those really tricky letters; X Now in order to get some inspiration for this post, I went onto one of those online dictionaries to look at words beginning with X. Sadly, this left me rather depressed as I didn’t know most of them which is a tad embarrassing because, at my age, I should probably know more x words other than Xmas and xylophone. Anyway since it’s nearly 11pm and I am too lazy old to absorb new information, I’ve decided  I’m going to simplify the matter and just talk about the letter X all by itself! Hurrah. I love keeping things simple! Okay, so X  by itself is often used as an abbreviation for “Kiss”. Sometimes girlfriends end their texts, emails and letters with a X as a sign of affection but they never do that with a man unless they are in luvvvvvvv

Wizard Whenever I hear the word “wizard” my brain goes numb. But if I hear it in combination with any of the following words: “Harry Potter,” “Hermoine,” Ron Weasley and “Dumbledore” I pray for spontaneous combustion. If I never see or hear the word “wizard” again it will be too soon. Weight Watchers Ugh. For obvious reasons. Wig. A word which strikes terror in every living women. Warhammer Warhammer is a war game played with model soldiers that cost an absolute fortune and is mind-numbingly boring on a par with Monopoly (see my “M” post.) The manufacturers of Warhammer also have the audacity to sell the soldiers unfinished which means long-suffering parents of Warhammer addicts have to spend hours gluing the ruddy pieces together or sponging paint off the furniture. Warhammer – the game every parent loves to hate. Wehrmacht No particular reason. *cough, cough* Whiskers I dislike them on

So let’s talk about voters and voting because it’s been an interesting time lately in the US with Hillary Clinton announcing she is going to run for the presidency and in the UK where we are on the countdown to the next general election on May 7th. In the US it is going to be fascinating to see how women vote and whether Hillary’s gender will influence the way people vote in the same way that colour appeared to do so in the election of Barack Obama. Here in the UK, we are one step ahead in our recognition of female politicians with the reign of Margaret Thatcher as Prime Minister between May 1979 and November 1990. Mrs Thatcher’s policies divided the nation and, over twenty years later, their legacies still ignite the most furious and vitriolic debates. However, there’s no doubt, that whatever the disputes, Mrs Thatcher will remain

Now I’ve been thinking over the blogging A to Z posts I’ve done so far and I’ve realised they’ve been a bit…well…how can I say it? Um… Slipshod. And unintellectual. Yes, that about sums it up. I think I peaked with the lazy posts yesterday because I actually fell asleep whilst writing my T is for for Thongs post. (That’s completely true.) And I woke up at 11.24 pm and all I’d written was a couple of lines and posted a picture. So then I had to find a way to finish the blog post as quickly as I could before I missed the 12pm deadline. So anyway, I feel a bit embarrassed by my lackadaisical manner especially as, on the occasions I’ve hopped around some of the other participating blogs, I’ve found some highly intellectual and informative posts. So I’ve decided that tonight I should write something intellectual too.

Brace yourselves, readers. This could be a shocking post, especially if you have delicate sensibilities, as I have been asked to write about a rather intimate subject. Thongs. In particular, I have been asked to write about this one: As you can see it is a male thong. Well I think so.  It looks like an extra small size though which means it can’t hold anything much bigger than a pork chipolata, Now, first of all, I have to state the obvious and what every respectable woman would say. OH. DEAR. GOD. Secondly, I have to say: IS THIS FOR REAL? Thirdly: PASS ME THE BUCKET. And finally, should you want this thong it is for sale, made to order, on Ebay in the US and so far the retailer has sold 94. And now I must go to sleep with that disturbing that thought that there are 94 men