Wot, no cheese???

I have decided that it may be wise for the foreseeable future to proceed through life with a bucket on me head......

Yesterday... ah yesterday, all my troubles seemed here to stayyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy! What did I do, well I went to go pick up the chooks grub.... fairly simple procedure... got it, paid, hoofed it into the back of me car and trundled home, got it home hoofed it out and noticed the sell by date had come and gawn.... *sigh* soooo hoofed it back into the car, grumbling over price of petrol and unecessary driving and should I, shouldn't I charge them for this? Quite a cross patch, I shall confess....

Hoofed the blasted sack back outta the car, dropped it with a thud at the feet of an assistant and opened me mouth...
"I just bought this and have noticed it has gawn past it's sell by date.... now.. my chooks are havin enough problems laying at the mo, what with broodiness, and malting and.... and ....." on I went, smiling in a tight lipped obviously pissed off manner.... and he said...
"Um.. I don't work here, I'm just waiting to pay....."

And did I shut up? Noooo cos I didn't cos once embarassed I ramble... for days.... weeks have been known.. so off I went..
"Ohhh well since it's not your fault my chooks aren't laying, you can rest easy tonight.... did you know the vitamin content...." and on and on and on....... til he very politely giggled and found me a shop assistant who was about as much use as a..welll... hyperactive squirrel at a medidation conference......and with noooooooooooo knowledge about feeds whatsoever.... still I got me new bag.... chooks will lay or I shall give them a stern finger wagglin and look at them in a cross yet sympathetic manner.......

I aslo got taken out to lunch by me dad! Which was lurlyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy... and then he had to go pick up a garden table cos a pheasant had broken their last one.. don't ask... life when I was a nipper was plagued with pheasants bouncing about all over the place... remember once being sat on the um.. loo... and a pheasant crash landing through the window.... waited very patiently for me to er.. finish, then wandered out of the loo and out via the front door... mad as hatters pheasants.....

Anyhoo, we arrvied at the EUUuuuuu cos I hate it, Wyevale, ie gift shop... ad he chose his table, deciding he didn't really want me to make him one outta an old hat, sticky back plastic and tarpaulin... no sense of adventure... price tag for table was £89.. got to check out and scanned it, they charged him £139 pounds...
"Erm.. "he said " the table is advertised for £89, why are you charging me £139?"
"Ah..." said the salesman" that price is just for the table top, this price is for the table top plus legs...."
"So you can buy just a table top??????? What the heck is the point of that?????!!!!!"
After several minutes of polite, forceful, non violent yet determined negotiation.... dad got it for the £89... leaving the salesman in a highly embarassed state, with me laughing too hard to contemplate walking for a wee bit....

Give me strength, tis not me that's barmy tis the world!! Whole place has gawned round the twist!!

£19,000!!!!!!!!!

But...but... I know me ISA and I know it's got precisely £2.57, an old toe nail clipping and a used tooth pick in it... not £19,000!!!!!!

I mean.. nooooooo I can't have... um... OOOOOOOOOOooooooooooooooo proverbial penny dropped!!! They must have sent me someone else's statement!!! OOOOooooooo!!! rich bastid.... *sigh*.. pootled off to go tell hubs and he went "OOOOOOooooooooooo!! You gotta write and tell them! Better yet, write and tell the account holder cos he'll be well mifffed..."

I nodded, wisely, feeling the weight of being a responsible citizen, wiping my brow and tutting at the world of banking and data protection, I put pen to paper...

I looked up and asked hubs to get the address off the bank statment for me, and orf he went.. I heard a gasp, a snort, hysterical laughter, then nothing but merry giggling....

"Ohh you daft mare" he cried whilst wiping the tears of laughter from his face
Exscuse me!! I hope you're not referring to me, the responsible citizen as a *dopey mare*????
"Um, so you want the address... ok here you go..it's.

Mr Sample *snort*
Sample Avenue
Sample County
Sample " and promptly fell about the room laffing...

Oh... um.. time for

Well, really... nope it's no good, I can't actually think of an exscuse... bottoms!!!

Mind you, this coming from the man, who took the dawg for a walk, took the lead off, put it round his neck, one end looped through t'other.... and came to the place where you had to put the lead back on... leaned down, clipped the lead onto dawg's collar, who promtly took off , draggin his Lordship along by the neck.... *sigh* now that is stoopid....