A very personal post written for me which may be of interest 🙂 .
Walking across our Town’s ‘Common’ this morning, making my way toward the war memorial built in remembrance to local fallen soldiers who died in the Great War, each year I think to myself, ‘yes November 11th is the true beginning of winter, cold blustery and not a leaf on the trees!’
Minutes later I stood quietly respectfully and solemly alongside thousands of other town’s folk, me gazing up at the 12 foot high stone cross, and this year as you’d expect I have never seen so many people at our service of remembrance, infact I wasn’t able to watch the wreath laying simply because 15 rows of people stood before me and many more behind, but watching the service isn’t the point to attending each year.
I’m not a particullaly religious person, I don’t go to church or say my prayers but there is something definitely spiritual about standing amongst crowds of people, all deep in their own thoughts of what remembrance Sunday means to themselves………………. and yes the 2 minute silence sandwiched between 2 bugle calls, the one church bell no longer ringing, was a touch emotional in a respectful kind of way.
So what does attending remembrance mean to me? I watch wreaths being laid by our representatives from local armed services, observe the minutes silence but my thoughts are solely remembering my Great Grandfather. He served in the Hampshire Regiment, sailed to Northern France in 1917 where he served as a lowly private yet he didn’t fight in the trenches. Great Grandfather was based near to Ypres in the Somme Region doing ‘his bit for king and Country’ by serving as an army meat butcher……………. no he didn’t see action but soldiers have to eat don’t they.
After the war he returned to his village in Cinderford in the heart of ‘The forest of Dean’, along with his five brothers two of which were injured in battle, then many years later I wrote to my Great Aunt asking if she had any war stories from her father’s time in France, but she could tell me very little except he came home to his butcher’s shop and helped found a local branch of the Royal British Legion. Again many years ago now, my Grandmother once showed me a ‘clipping’ taken from a local newspaper at the time of his funeral, and pictured I could see one hundred flag bearers from the Royal British Funeral paying their respects.
From all accounts my Great Grandfather was a wonderful man, a father, church elder and respected member of his community, and although too old to serve in WW2 he again did his bit serving as an ARP Warden aiding the local Police Force……… So there you are my Great Grandfather is reason I attend our local remembrance each year without fail, and although I never met the man, for two minutes I wonder what horrors he may have seen around Ypres, also what the Royal British Legion personally meant to him.
Above you see a treasure picture borrowed from a much loved family album, incidentally now I’m much older I realise how lucky I am to be able to attach so many of my ancestor’s names to their faces on a photograph, I’ve my Grandmother to thank for that!
Pictured below photographs taken by me yesterday, with flower beds of red plastic poppies also knitted woollen poppies hanging around trees and all knitted by local residents. You’ll also see our war memorial absent of crowds of people.
Pictured below you see several photographs taken (by myself) looking through the front window of ‘Helen and Douglas House Charity shop’ to be more exact. My mother helped with the display, the gas mask belonged to my Grandmother and the ARP Warden’s helmet (just out of view top right) belonged to my Great Grandfather in WW2.
‘Day after day, week after week, month after month, year after year UKIP tells us immigration is to blame for all Britain’s problems, the consequence is we accept the burning images below as to be expected modern day behaviour! So am I shocked and surprised? Disgusted yes but not as surprised as I should be’
I’ve been thinking about British racism quite a bit recently, however before I begin I’d just like to remind you this WordPress has been written with only one rule in mind, Politics is not to be discussed and that includes BREXIT, but this evening I’m going to make an exception.
British people suffer from a chronic brain condition deeply embedded into every single inhabitant of this Island nation, so much so I divide the population down the middle, the majority of white people are to a degree racist and our migrant population whether first second third generation immigrants, they could be Pakistani Indian or West Indian descendants will all encounter racist remarks at some point in their day………… possibly worse than name calling!
You’ll have all watched the Grenfell Tower tragedy in which 72 people lost their lives and you’ll have all seen photos of a miniature cardboard Tower being burnt on November 5th, an unusual tradition where we celebrate Guy Fawkes failed 1605 act of terrorism………… I don’t think he was a Muslim bomber was he?
I had intended to spare you a picture of the burning cardboard Tower, I relented, what can I say apart from I’m utterly disgusted however this isn’t a one off incident. No racism is deeply embedded into our psyche within every Town and City across the United Kingdom, and if any readers living overseas believe BREXIT is about leaving the EU, I’m here to tell you it’s not!
BREXIT was a protest vote against migrant workers coming to these shores by the 100,000, also a protest against uncontrolled immigration over the past 60 years as Politicians never fail to remind us each and every day. Whether Right Wing mainstream, UKIP, National Front, EDL, BNP, White Defence League whichever, they keep spouting speeches with negative vibes and then politicians wonder why we the people dislike foreigners?……………. But perhaps if you live in a Northern City where a steel works, shipyard or car plant has closed, or your Grandchildren cannot afford to buy their first house for the simple reason 900,000 Poles live in UK homes……….. then you’re going to vote BREXIT aren’t you?………….. Holy crap I fear Britain would really burn if we had Donald Trump in charge.
BREXIT is/was a protest vote made by very angry white people who haven’t had their worries listened to, and the story all begins after the end of WWII when yes Great Britain was made up of 95% white faces, so what’s to do? I’ve actually come to a point in my life where truthfully I’m not enjoying living in this Country but at my age I’ll just have to stick it out, save my money and ultimately pass it on to several little people I know. I have no children of my own and everything that I own savings, home, treasured belongings are written into a legally binding Will simply because they will need every penny in a United Kingdom that’s tearing itself apart.
Here’s one final statistic for you because I fear this post could become an angry rant which I don’t want, because if you’ve read my blog you’ll know my WordPress is a happy place with some silliness, photographs, serious thoughts and fun observations………. not forgetting sex and boobs! Where was I? Oh yes one final statistic which encapsulates exemplifies every single problem plaguing this country, apply this analogy across the board. When my sibling left University the State paid his Grant in entirety, in fact the individual finished further education without owing a single penny to anyone! However today in 2018 when a young adult leaves University after three years of Degree education, he or she will have paid all tuition fees leaving them with a debt of £50,000 to be repaid over the rest of their lifetime.
Makes me want to weep!
So you tell me how a University Graduate with very few job opportunities has any chance of saving a deposit for a one bedroom Flat, which will probably cost them £200,000 or £400,000 if you live in London. Total madness and now you’ll probably understand why white people have had enough of migrant workers coming to Britain, buying themselves a home, entitled to umpteen cash benefits, a free education for their children and free healthcare in the form of NHS operations or their own family Doctor………… wouldn’t you vote BREXIT tooo?
Just so as you understand our National Health Service couldn’t exist without cheap migrant labour, seems like we Brits prefer to sit on our asses doing very little and sponging off the State rather than work (not everyone but you get the idea)………….. gives us time to complain about bloody foreigners!
I sit on the bus each evening with tooo much idle time on my hands, I’m bored, worrying about my country’s future and as for BREXIT? I’ve frigging had enough AND the process hasn’t started yet, that madness begins March 2019. So will there be food shortages? Will British industry relocate to Europe in fear of paying import export duties? Or will our F#CKING USELESS POLITICIANS pull their fingers out and do something…….. ANYTHING!!!
So this leaves me with a question which is never far from my thoughts, namely am I a British Racist to? And I have to answer I really don’t know how to answer, I cannot say a great deal about my place of work except to say for the last 28 years I’ve worked daily alongside people from every corner of this Globe, my Department alone probably number’s forty overseas nationals and to a person they are lovely people……………….. not forgetting some rather gorgeous women in there but that’s a whole different blog post, oh hold on I’ve already written those 😉 .
Like I said lovely people all, witty amusing intelligent polite and to a person grateful for the help I give them………….. yet if I was medically ill I could wait nine weeks for an appointment to see my GP, then I’ll sit in the doctor’s surgery gazing up at the electronic sign waiting for my name to appear, but not before noticing Polish looking names being flashed up one after another, AND they’re the reason I have to wait two months to see a GP aren’t they? You’ll have guessed my Town has a large Polish Community, so have we integrated yet? Being truthful not really 😦 , though my Mum chats to a Grandmother but mum will talk to anyone.
So what’s to do? With BREXIT day but four months away everyone is nervous for the future, worried about their jobs and rising food prices (I dread going to the supermarket these days), but worst of all we’ve a f#cking useless Government unable to make sense of this madness let alone come up with any answers, to be fair they try, but I fear the EU will do all they can to stop us leaving! Tooo many bureaucrats enjoying the gravy train and worrying what’ll happen after the British food wagon is uncoupled!
(BTW apologies for my earlier profanities, but hey I’m a little despairing today!)
Usually I’ll finish my posts with a wise pithy or amusing conclusion………. I have none!
Perhaps a little self indulgent self promotion, but hey I’m feeling chatty this evening and I’ve always wanted an excuse to share the video below, ‘On Days Like These’ is the Title music to a very British Movie Classic you may never have heard of……… Michael Caine’s ‘The Italian Job’ possibly one of the greatest British crime films ever made, the tune is sublime and sung by Brit crooner Matt Monro. Have you heard of Matt, he was our very own Frank Sinatra……….. oh and a bus conductor!
The song and video are perfect together, the LamborghiniMiura driving through the Alps is spectacular and the Italian gangster even manages to make smoking a cigarette look cool…… not easy! And not forgetting Michael Caine staring in possibly his wittiest and coolest acting performance ever. Enjoy 🙂 .
Eight months writing for my own little private space on the internet!
Let me explain, I began March 10th 2018 with a fictional erotic tale published on this very personal WordPress I described as ‘Blogging Thoughts Photos & Life’, well 122 randomly themed eclectic writings later and that’s exactly what’s transpired, (not forgetting a sprinkling of saucy sexy admissions) 🙂 Btw I’m quite popular in India which is a constant source of joy.
So I have to be honest and say I’ve not run out of ideas quite yet, I have several posts currently in draft stage however before ‘publishing’ those literary masterpieces (not!) I’ve a series themed The Tower of London. (Yikes I’d better pull my finger out and start them!!!)
Let me enlighten you, 2 weeks ago I visited The Tower of London taking many photographs and seeing as I’m a history buff I’ll be writing factual shorter posts than usual he says! They always begin with dreams of being short but finish 1000 words long, anyways I love them.
The Tower had quite an effect on me, slightly emotional even, my Country’s History has ALWAYS captured my imagination and where’s the harm in admitting I’m proud to be British?…………. Sometimes I feel to be an English male with an ancestry I can trace back 4-10 generations isn’t something to be proud of within a multicultural Britain, a melting pot of ethnicities, if ever there’s a TV program screened with lol tooo many white faces then Twitter suffers a meltdown, a tongue lashing by thousands of mortally offended keyboard warriors, anyways no point harking back to those good old days that (perhaps) never were?
Hmm are you a touch shocked? Well don’t be, try to enjoy your life that’s what I say, people across the Globe live in the moment happy in the knowledge whatever happened pre fifty years ago isn’t worth worrying about! Earning a wage to put food on your family’s table, now that’s important!
Anyways I’m far from being racist (feel free to comment) but I am proud of my heritage so before you read my three unfinished posts, you’ve an English History lesson coming your direction and as always I’ll write from a very personal perspective.
🙂 I hope you’ll enjoy reading (they could be considered ‘slightly dry’) and don’t forget the photos were all taken by me 20/10/2018.
Should I burn in Hell for all eternity admitting I don’t understand why?
I’m a red blooded heterosexual guy, hold on let me rephrase that! I’m a randy heterosexual guy who ain’t laid a lady in ages, and what’s the association with red blood and virility anyway……….. as you may have guessed I’m pretty confused this evening and lol not high on illegal substances!
Mind you if you’d been following my blog closely you’ll know I’m a breasts and ladies man through and through.
Ok apologies for this post before I begin, it’s bound to upset someone, hopefully 😀 ! You’ll have possibly guessed by the Title above I’ve met a guy who wears women’s dresses………… in fact there’s more than one, I cannot say tooo much about my place of employment because well………. many months ago someone at work read my blog who actually knew me! All I will say is the establishment is education related and populated by many academically (highly) intelligent men and women many of whom lack basic common sense, but that’s another story!
Now criticise me in comments please, but I have to be truthfully honest and say I struggle to understand why these two guys spend their working day dressed in women’s clothing? One of them dyes his head purple and wears denim short skirts, the guy in IT dyes his long hair a shocking shade of ‘bubble gum’ pink and totters around in high healed shoes, though I will say he’s the legs to carry off shear black stockings and pencil skirts!………….. I’m not saying I’d ask him out on a date mind but he’s passable for a lady except for the five o’clock shadow come late afternoon!
Now just so as you’re aware I’m not homophobic, I’m an openminded live and let live type of guy okay!……… I’ve a relative in a same sex relationship, two of my old schoolfriends are gay and I’d sleep with two naked lesbian lovers any day of the week!
Being serious for a second, my place of work of course promotes and supports a LGBT community in the form of themed events and social Groups, in fact Cara (he of denim short skirts) is the President, he seems a nice guy, I of course don’t stare at his legs as I politely say………..
“Good morning Cara” or “weather’s turned cold again” or similar pleasantries however I don’t know these two guys other than to say hello………… now feel free to judge me please but Cara doesn’t appear at all feminine, and perhaps my lack of understanding/appreciation is down to my lack of education, but in my defence since age sixteen I’ve worked in male dominated factories and foundries, stereotypical right wing institutions, frequented by bs spouting working class heterosexuals, some racist and all with tooo much testosterone coursing through their veins………… yes I’m ill informed and possibly prejudicial?
(I’m also playing Devil’s advocate.)
I’m also confused, Cara in LGBT literature refers to himself in print as ‘She’ yet I guess he has a willy? One time I actually witnessed him walk into the lady’s cloak room/toilet and that was a shock and a half I can tell you!! But reading her literature and overhearing gossiping tongues I’m VERY aware if I was to say something out of turn and within earshot, he would formally complain and I’d quite probably lose my job……………….. she takes his Trans Gender extremely seriously I just wish he’d the legs for wearing short skirts that’s all 😀 . Confused? I am.
Perhaps I should enrol myself in the LGBT Society to be informed and educated? I’m open minded with a live and let live outlook, but for my sins I have a strong working class upbringing and wasn’t birthed by over sensitive parents.
But I’m not the only person to be confused, it appears to me British society in the broader sense struggles to understand Transgenderism, you have female guests complaining to the Youth Hostelling Association because they’re sleeping, in what they’d assumed, would be women only bunkbeds only to find Transgender men were sleeping within these open plan dormitories…………. a female journalist said she felt vulnerable uneasy and frightened even, but of course the YHA legally has it’s hands tied.
The Transgender community is very vocal, extremely political and I’d guess British Institutions are frightened to say the wrong thing, scared of landing themselves in Court or caught in the ‘crossfire’ of a Twitter ‘shit-storm’, jeez I’m mixing my metaphors once again!
(I realise part two of my recent visit to a heritage steam railway is a little late, it’s a photo blog so nothing tooo heavy but better late than never? Anyways reading part one really will help you understand the narrative of this evening’s post. 🙂 My take is enjoy the photos of a very unique British tourist attraction.)
Below Toddington Station and a very typical railway platform scene, I travel British railway of today and I cannot remember seeing flowering hanging baskets……….. again arranged by volunteer enthusiasts God love them oh and the homemade cakes were lovely.
Below I’d guess this is how a 1940’s railway waiting room would have appeared, a telephone manufactured from Bakelite and a coal burning fireplace to heat the room in winter.
Below photographs taken from within the carriage I was travelling in, yet again built 1940’s with wooden panelling and extremely comfortable it was to! Incidentally heated via steam pipes from the err steam engine!
Below our locomotive taking on water a common sight on all steam railways of the era.
In light of present day terrorist atrocities blighting every town and city across the globe, my photos below just show how times have changed with these piles of unattended suit cases laying unattended on a platform, I would add this scene is far from being staged for a camera! Watch any black and white movie of the era and this is what you will see stacks of luggage!……….. A security nightmare if ever you saw one.
The heritage railway also has vehicles owned by the train Company on display with the lorry below left painted in GWR dark brown and cream livery……… incidentally I’d never seen a three wheel truck before.
Now for two photographs (below) taken by me gazing out the window at the countryside gently rolling past……….. if you are interested the County is Gloucestershire.
……………. and finally the Railway is also home to heritage diesel locomotives circa 1960’s and my opinion JUST as important to save for future generations to enjoy and travel on.
So yes I’m in total agreement with the rest of the World congratulations are in order, Royals Harry and Meghan are sooon to be proud new parents with a baby Prince or Princess being born next year, and this week’s newspapers haven’t missed pointing out the new Royal baby, all being well, could be born around the time a sooon to be dismembered UK will leave Europe (God help us), but that’s enough of politics.
Mind you historically Britain’s Monarchy and State have always been inextricably entwined, also happy discussion bedfellows so lol please read on.
I’ll freely admit I’m ever so gradually fading into a jaded cynical middle aged man, I must work on that! Though I am an empathetic human being and extremely happy for the two newlyweds and their addition. Incidentally I covered their wedding day in a previous blog (click here for a read) and btw I’m an enthusiastic fan of Duchess Meghan, many months have past now and this stylish American seems have dovetailed rather well into our privileged and dysfunctional first family, quite seamlessly actually!
Put it another way the tabloid newspapers haven’t turned on her yet, just remember the things they said about Lady Di!
But there’s one glaring fact surrounding the pregnancy which has been omitted from News media reporting, yet is a talking point that hasn’t been lost upon the general public at large, put it this way if I were to say to someone at work “Meghan’s having a baby”, chances are their reply would follow along the lines, “so The House of Windsor will have it’s very first mixed race baby then. 😀 ” ……………… the first and final time I’ll use that phrase!
Now hold on, calm yourselves down and hear me out, I cannot tell you how many times I’ve heard a similar remark said in passing or words to that affect, I’d propose we’ve all commented or at least considered it for a second!
What say you my English Readers?
AND no I’m most definitely NOT being racist!!! Meghan’s mother Doria Ragland is rather exotic hence the happy couple’s new baby will be rather exotic, (and our Royals are very big on bloodlines both ‘horsy’ and one’s coloured blue), so yes the media isn’t discussing cultural differences (race) in print but you can bet your life there’ll be plenty of tittle tattling within News studios………… and yes I think it is worthy of discussion if only in historical and cultural contexts.
Feel free to leave your thoughts in comments 🙂 or lol plough on!
I would suggest this happy addition is culturally a big deal in 2018 Britain, if so inclined you could trace our Royal lineage back through this past 1000 years, whether George V, Edward VII, Queen Victoria, Elizabeth I, Edward the Confessor or whichever monarch you care to mention, trace our Royal Family lineage and you’ll see it’s been forever Anglo Saxon and white, and mark my words there’ll be many a British white supremacist who would like TO KEEP IT that way! Well all I can say is tough Britain is culturally diverse and so soon will our Royal Family be.
Anyways enough of all that race nonsense I’ve blogged before saying I’m a big fan of Meghan, she’s popular with us unwashed masses and could be considered one cultural baby step forward for The Windsor’s, and hopefully she’ll birth a healthy new baby.
F#ck knows why they’ve allowed her to visit a Region where the Zika Virus is incubated? Madness.
As an aside did you know two consultant gynaecologists (and no doubt umpteen nurses and midwives) were in attendance for the birth of Prince Louis earlier this year? That’s a privilege not given to pregnant commoner women and I guess the advantage of blue blood coursing through ‘one’s’ veins………..… two medical Consultants for heaven’s sake!
I would hazard a guess for more than one reason the Queen is overjoyed Meghan’s married her Grandson, for one because they appear to be good friends who enjoy each others company, a distant (tenuous) second could be ‘Liz’ is relieved Meghan has joined her inner close family, for no other reason than the race question has been the talk of ‘chattering classes’ for the past couple of years or so, how do I know? I’ve listened and watched the TV discussion programs that’s how!
(Just imagine the new addition could also have ginger hair 🙂 send me to the Tower and chop my head off!!)
Like it or not Britain over the past 60 years is a changed society and many people are unhappy they now live in a multicultural multi faithed country, I’m talking white supremacists an ugly race that blights every democratic country. So for the purposes of this post imagine for a second you opened a gossip magazine and saw photos of the latest Royal family gathering, look hard and you will only ever see white faces, so does this matter? If you want my opinion both No and Yes. No because we shouldn’t judge a person’s worth by the colour of their skin, and Yes because I’m wondering if a British born Pakistani family is of the opinion Elizabeth is their Queen? I’d guess probably not, and personally I don’t mind either way because I’m more perturbed that Meghan’s baby announcement was the lead News story ahead of crucial Brexit negotiations…………. and God help us there.
Early evening thoughts and keep in mind I’m a big fan of Meghan’s, A. Shepherdson 2018
We ALL listen into stranger’s conversations………… don’t we?
I am a people watcher by nature, I was going to write aren’t we all? But I know for a fact some people are so self absorbed they are oblivious to what goes on around them, perhaps a little unfair of me. So yes guilty as charged I can’t help watching people go about their normal lives, nothing creepy mind it’s just that if you find human nature fascinating well you have to observe! Oh and I should qualify that statement with I have a terrible habit for eavesdropping, perhaps an unsavoury character trait but if you’re going to chat to your friend about sexually transmitted diseases, then what’s a guy to do except listen in?
I really can’t help myself however I’m far from blameless in fact I blame this new phenomenon of telling the world your private business fairly and squarely on mobile phones! I can stand next to someone in a bus queue and they’ll happily chat about their lives to a friend consequently I’ve become very attuned to conversations going on around me, and I’ve heard some corkers when sitting on the bus enduring the awful evening commute out of Oxford. But what’s to do? For some unknown reason people seem totally comfortable having intimate mobile phone conversations out loud, however the eavesdropper only hears half the conversation so has to fill in the pauses while the other person answers, but don’t you think eavesdropping is just human nature?
(I’m not a gossip though, oh no tell me a secret in confidence and my lips are sealed)
Recently I overheard a lady explaining to a friend on the phone, how she’d just left a solicitor’s office after a meeting with her ex husband, a guy she described in these glowing terms,
“Thankfully I’ll never have to see his stupid little face ever again”, you get the idea they were divorcing.
I should add the half of the conversation I was listening to was the lady gleefully taking her ex hubby to the proverbial cleaners, the alimony, the furniture, the house she got the lot! Although she had to give him a token lump sum, and by the time she’d hung up I both felt sorry for the poor guy and thanked my lucky stars I am single! Mind you she had a pleasant well spoken voice and a personality you could call ‘bitchy’ but then again she was divorcing an ex hubby so perhaps her attitude was understandable……………….. 😀 hmm do I really want to ever marry?
I’ve lost count of the shear number of Court case conversations I’ve eavesdropped on, you see our County’s Crown Court (second highest Court in the land) resides in the city I commute out of, consequently all I can imagine is people leaving Court at 4pm are SO excited and intellectually stimulated, or are so frigging relieved, they jump on the bus, whip out their mobile and tell friends mothers or girlfriends what went on in Court and the outcome of the case, and again I fill in the gaps. I’ve overheard defendants discuss their knife crimes, wounding, robbery convictions and often accompanied with foul language, not forgetting drug abuse and all absolutely staggering conversations so much more entertaining than reading tabloid newspapers, or soap operas on the TV (I don’t watch TV!) Btw I’m not joking the stories I have heard!!
I’ve also overheard conversations that are so sad and upsetting, bare in mind they’re impossible not to overhear, perhaps when someone sits in their comfy Italian leather reclining seat they’re totally aware the person in the seat behind can hear every word? The other week a young woman from the seat in front of me was chatting to her mother in tears, letting her heart out as daughters do explaining how she could no longer afford the mortgage payments on her house and other bills, and by the time I’d descended the double decker stairs to get off believe me when I tell you 20minutes of sadness and upset had left me in bits. I almost felt like giving the young lady a gift of money (but is that patronising to admit), I’ve even felt guilty that I am lucky to be relatively well off!
I don’t know some people seem do get the rough end of life, so far I haven’t, but I’m afraid I’m unsure I could emotionally handle having my life turned upside down? Perhaps the consequence for my timidity is I’m a guy who doesn’t take a risk……. is still single…… a little unhappy lol.
The most entertaining eavesdrop I’ve had by far lol was again sitting on a bus! A jaw dropping tale where the girl behind who was retelling lurid stories of her slutty behaviour while being on holiday with friends in some Spanish holiday resort, fabulously entertaining that was! You’ll get the gist when I say she was a ‘sleep all day, drink party and sex all night girl’, well turns out she’d slept with a different guy every SINGLE night, good for her, you’re a long time dead!
Jeeze I was so envious………… why didn’t I go to Spain in my twenties? 😀
(Btw I’ll skip the conversation where three girls were comparing their shopping purchases and discussing the pitfalls of wearing bras that are tooo small……………….. honestly I ask you!!! And just the other week the girl sitting next to me was regaling tales of her first leg waxing session to her friend………….. after five minutes or so I had to turn and look at her, I smiled with raised eyebrows, she went red and her friend couldn’t stop laughing………….. either I’ve never noticed this before or times have changed and I’m getting old?)
Oh yes back to the entertaining eavesdrop!
Well on another journey home two teenage (@15) girls were seated across the aisle on the other side of the bus, a row in front of me, and suddenly my attention was pricked so to speak because the two young ladies were chatting about relationships and sex, oh and loudly with plenty of passengers within earshot. Well as you can imagine I’m listening into the conversation and I’d guess all the other commuters would have turned down their mp3 media, stopped reading their paperback novels all ears drawn to the girl’s sex talk. Then mid chatting about their love lives, one girl earnestly said to her friend and I could tell she was rather concerned worried and confused, saying in hushed tones,
“Can you catch STD’s from sleeping with another woman?”
Well I’m all frigging ears mulling over questions like ‘well can a woman catch an STD from sex with another woman?’ ‘And if so which ones?’ And I must admit I was as confused as the two girls! Well to cut a short story even shorter, her friend wasn’t much help and didn’t seem to know?
Then all of a sudden a middle age woman sitting a few rows in front of me, turned around from her seat, leant across to the two girls and answered,
“Yes you can my dear, you can catch STD’s.”
And having shared her caring advice she returned to her seat as if nothing had ever happened, then the worried girl turned to her friend and rather seriously said,
“I’d better get myself checked out then” and with that their conversation stopped or changed subject I cannot remember?………….. Hmm I wonder if she did get checked or have an STI.
Well as you can imagine I was in my element listening in (wouldn’t you be? Btw we all were), however I couldn’t help wondering who the rather brave knowledgeable helpful woman was? I remember thinking she must be a lovely person to bravely come to the rescue of a troubled teenager, perhaps she was a mother with daughters? A school teacher? Or just an example of someone with such great empathy, devoid of embarrassment, that she could no longer remain quiet knowing both the correct STI answer and how important the teenagers understood diseases are exchanged skin to skin.
I was truly touched.
I wouldn’t have had the nerve to speak up possibly because I was pretty confused myself! My brain was listing any number of sexual diseases before settling on Genital Herpes, I’m reliably informed Herpes is very easy to pick up from skin to skin sexual contact, but either way I wouldn’t have had the nerve to pipe up and neither did all the other commuters within earshot…………. hmm perhaps men should never get involved #MeToo and all that.
In life there are those who get involved and help others, and there are those who watch and do nothing? So I’m left wondering which one am I?
(Stating the obvious boys talk loudly over their mobile phones………………. but for some reason I only remember lurid tales told by young ladies 😀 probably because lady’s conversations are FAR more interesting engaging and darn right entertaining!)
Now I have an admission to make (lol said that before!) I began writing this post 14/03/2018 and it’s resided in Draft form ever since, perhaps the reason I didn’t get around to posting is Princess Anya isn’t so much a blog, but more a writing exercise that you could say is themed ‘my take on chatrooms’ .
So what’s to do with this tenuously adult themed tale? Do I publish it? or do I bin it? hmm after much thought I’ve decided to publish and in all honesty I enjoyed reading this tale once again. 🙂
Don’t you think Anya (cartoon replaced photo) could be mistaken for the girl next door? Demure classy intellectual, a college student perhaps? But how wrong you are! Oh so wrong!
As often happens with my WordPress I’ll tack (nautically) from one questionable opinion to the next because they’re enjoyable to write 🙂 , so be aware I’m going to explain why once in a while I’ll watch a certain lady perform in her chatroom! Btw she’s age20 and it’s all legal proper and above board. 🙂
Tell you what! Call this post an antidote to my ‘Crime and Punishment’ tale, and a lot more fun. 🙂
I’ll be totally honest with you and say I dislike watching pornography, (that may surprise one or two regular readers lol) but take note I’m not admitting a dislike of watching porn to gain favour with you lovely readers, and I have no real objection against mentally well balanced adults accessing legal consensually performed pornography, only that watching two naked porn actors going at it like rabbits bores me to frigging tears………….. I prefer doing ‘it’ with consenting 18+ live human beings, most of you will be in relationships and isn’t intimacy connection and a meeting of souls? Far more fun!
Btw this post ISN’T discussing the pros and cons arguments for and against legal pornography, only that watching sex bores me frigging rigid, and yes I’ve changed my moral position to thinking Governments should do all they possibly can to stop children having access to imagery they just don’t understand. (Phew that’s a mouthful)……………….. I don’t have children but I have several relatives who ‘have their own little people!’
So yes I’ll admit to watching the odd adult movie in my lifetime!
A short tale for you! When aged 18 myself and a group of 30 apprentices visited Oxford’s Odeon Cinema in George Street, a very very late viewing mind, to watch a soft porn adaptation of Cinderella, I’ll say NO more except imagine a scantily clothed nubile pretty virginal Snow White, then think seven horny dwarfs, use your imaginations and yes you’ve guessed correct!
Was our ‘soft’ movie worth watching? Yes and no, yes because going out of an evening with fabulous young men were some of the happiest days of my life, the comradery you experience with like minded friends you just cannot put a price on. And no, because the pornography was far from sexy, in fact the ‘plot’ was ridiculous to the point of being hilarious and how she managed position 69 without putting her back out I’ll never know.
Enough of unorthodox fairy tales.
So who is Princess Anya (the lady in the picture)? She is in fact a very VERY successful adult chatroom actress, I’d describe her a classy sensual very much ‘girl next door’ young woman oh and of Indian descent. AND if you’re at all curious I don’t hold the view male paying viewers to her shows are sad old perverts, no! They’re probably decent single guys (mostly), loners or society’s lonely where the internet could be their social life.
Where do I fit into this alternative cyber world of sexual fantasies? Once in a while I’ll pull down the favourites drop down tab on my laptop, where I’ve bookmarked a legal and regulated non spammy secure and safe well known adult website. I’ll fill you in with a little detail, just enough because WordPress may be reading, imagine pages of hundreds of scantily clad young women sitting in a room in their home, any room, in front of a webcam and ‘stripping naked’. Yes you’re there!
Lol I’m one of life’s observers, yes the young women are gorgeous, btw I don’t visit that often note! The girls 18+ are stunning and yes remember masturbation is medically good for one’s mental wellbeing, all good clean fun, but it’s the chat logs on the right hand side that can be addictive viewing full of amusing and intelligent banter and passes ten minutes or so…….. and 😉 what guy doesn’t like watching gorgeous young women undressing, well at least I’m honest!
However I never pay because I’m tight with money.
The male viewers have usernames (note I’m not a member), it’s a chatroom and you know how chatrooms work, they anonymously write a comment, sometimes very funny because they are articulate intelligent men, she’ll laugh reply be playful and a friendship of sorts is struck up. Yes Anya is stringing them along a little, she’s being cheery funny sensual to gain favour and get paid tokens but their conversation surprisingly isn’t disgusting it’s actually entertaining viewing.
Btw virtual tokens are purchased with real money, ‘punished plastic’ if you get my meaning!
Time to time moderators enter the chatroom to check on the appropriateness of behaviour, if some hate writing bully chimes with obscenities the lady blocks him, and by the time Anya has 10,000 men close to uhmm a state of nearing sexual excitement (going by the frenzied chat log), Anya switches Private allowing those who’ve paid $5 in tokens to watch her private performance.
The screen the goes blank, and the room is Private!
And because I’m tight fisted miser I don’t pay to watch, then for the next 15 minutes Anya puts on a masturbation show, is she wrong and disgusting? You decide. And how do I know what goes on in her show? We’ll for one I’m an intelligent guy with an awesomeimagination and two because the viewers continue to write a chat log on the right hand side! And interesting entertaining reading it is to with the guys writing whilst watching Anya’s private performance, and remember these guys are wordsmiths of a sort, articulate and witty, they carry on writing a running commentary of Anya’s bedroom antics positions and use of toys AND the are respectful…………….. Jeeze lol use your imaginations please!! And for those of who you who are a little prim and proper look away now, as Anya performs I’d guess hundreds of men are sat in front of their computer screens watching and w##king.
So what do I make of all these sexy shenanigans? I have absolutely no problem with adult performers and their chatrooms apart from one overriding essentially important caveat, legal moderated chatrooms are fine as long as they cannot be accessed by children.
Goes without saying I’m a moral mentally well balanced good hearted human being soviewing would be fine, and if you could 100% guarantee ALL children cannot access regulated chatrooms on the internet, then I honestly have no problem but again banning pornography is your own moral choice to make. However back in the real world we know children unfortunately do watch, and I guess me saying chatrooms are ok is a pact with the devil if EVER there was one.
I have a relative with little people of his/her own, work it out lol, he/she has parental locks set on all their children’s media devices, flagged up sexual words will filter out inappropriate websites, setting preferences will stop their children seeing unwanted sexual images, they have their own phones but the deal/pact with Mum and Dad is at any time of the adult’s choosing they can take an iPad or phone off the little person and examine their browsing history.
The family pact also states, if preferences and locks have been tampered with, adult web addresses attempted then the device is confiscated and ‘the little people’ are fine with this pact, they also learn that life has rules and consequences and they haven’t reneged on the deal although email has been disabled for non sexual related incidents. The ‘little people’ are learning to be responsible! I’ll finish by saying the parental pact works because the adults in question are intelligent, clever, caring and responsible alas not every parent is either tech savvy or actually cares.
As for beautiful Princess Anya, she is one talented lady oh yes she is a VERY clever young woman (possibly the most shapely firm perky tits I’ve ever seen!) And her bedroom antics are pretty amazing (apparently remember I don’t pay to watch) but more importantly Anya is a bubbly witty playful personable intelligent young woman, she’s a friend to lonely men and her finely crafted skilfully honed feminine charms will seldom be bettered.
I watch her interacting with viewers, observe, listen and read her chat log and I’m convinced she’s a woman who could hold any audience in the palm of her hand, her skillset is exactly the same as any TV evangelist preacher except Anya’s not extorting money from penniless congregations who can ill afford it (she’s not lying to them either). I’d say she is a more honest human being, men pay for her adult service and she gives them what they want, I’d suggest Anya’s a morally genuine person more so than any Politician working in British politics, actually I’m convinced. Hmm perhaps one day she venture into politics, she could, it happens.
So she takes her clothes off for money, who cares? Are her talents wasted? Yes, but she appears to be having fun and making money and I’m ok with anyone living the life they wish as long as it hurts no one.
Now I move onto Patti, she’s a whole different woman all together, age 40 and quite probably a mother herself and again she strips for money! Several years ago I watched a TV program investigating the murky world of strip bars, and interestingly many of the young women were single mothers……………….. judge people at your peril.
Patti is fabulous, I like Patti, she’s your mate’s Auntie or your mum’s best friend lol the dictionary definition of MILF, and to look at her sitting in her kitchen you wouldn’t have guessed she was a sex worker of sorts, unless I’d told you! However the absence of a bra, unfettered large boobs underneath a tight fitting tee shirt kinda gives her job away. Once again when she’s been payed enough well earnt tokens, off come the clothes and Patti ‘performs’ in front of her kitchen sink! And no NO I’m not linking the website.
So now to the question you are ALL hopefully asking, how much money does Anya make performing a 2 hour show? Remember 1hr 45 minutes is chatting and interacting with male viewers, getting them excited, clean chat with no demands bullying or hate, then she’ll set Private, hundreds of $5 tokens will pile in and doing the quick Math I think she made $700 for a 15 minute strip show.
Just imagine $350/hr………….. several times a day! (Most girls won’t earn this)
I should finish by saying I make no personal judgements, Anya is a wealthy young woman, empowered, self employed, she hurts no one so good for her and knowing the direction society is morally taking us, I have a feeling any future mainstream employers won’t care less anyway. Further still I’d guess many of the other performers will be single mothers, and all will be earning money to feed themselves, pay the bills so why not dance naked at least they’re not degrading themselves in porn flicks!
One day I’ll have to pay and watch Anya perform naked with toys, captured by various camera angles with her legs akimbo, trouble is that means spending $5 and I’m as tight as #ssholes. 😀 then again she is beautiful.
One final thought, the question crosses my mind would I want a daughter to perform in chatrooms and the answer has to be no, but if a friend or sister wanted to strip naked on the internet for money (consensually and over age18) then I’d be cool, her life her body I make no moral judgements!
(Original to March 2018, btw I have @ ten more posts in draft…………… I’m feeling a little glum this evening, these wordy essays aren’t what you’d define as blogging)
Mildly adult themed (been a while since I’ve written an adult true tale) and hopefully a fun read!
Now a message for any ‘classy ladies’ who may have read my post title and presumed ‘moi’ has written a tale about two people who fell in love and lived happily ever after, or maybe they’re imagining this is ‘moi’ reviewing a movie newly released at the cinema……… well if you did I’m afraid you’re wrong on both counts, which only leaves a third choice which one hundred percent of men will understand………….. having said all that medical doctors tell us masturbation (had you guessed) is the safest form of sex and more important good for one’s mental health and general well being………… and being serious for a second (for this is a serious post) I wholeheartedly agree pleasuring oneself lifts the spirits leaving you feeling satisfied and relaxed.
Incidentally Urban Dictionary defines ‘Happy Ending’ thus : ‘When a masseuse feels inclined to finish your session with oral sex or manual release’…………… and forget the word inclined that’s what I frigging paid her to do!
Btw my tale for you this evening is themed just for fun 🙂 .
One blustery autumn afternoon in late September, a few weeks ago now! You’d have found me laying naked on my back, not a stitch of clothing on my body, my legs wide apart and a Romanian lady by the name of ‘Dana’ kneeling before me, a truly beautiful gorgeous lady gazing down upon me, a delicious wicked smile across her face oh and the reddest glossiest lipstick you ever did see.
“Do you enjoy giving gentleman hand relief?” I enquired,
and when you ‘come’ to think of it massaging a male client’s back muscles with dextrous skilful fingertips, finishing the massage with one hand gently curled around his erection and gently rolling his testicles between thumb and finger with the other, has to be one of the strangest occupations ever!
“Yes I do honey”, Dana answered with a wicked grin, her lubricated right hand rhythmically stroking my love length and circling my purple helmet with warming palms, the joyous tingles and pleasurable sensations coursing from the tip of my penis down to my groin are near indescribable………… only men understand how gorgeous and beautiful those stimulated nerve endings alter his mind, his breath quickens, his hardness bucks and pulses as he draws ever closer to climax.
I once gleaned from secretive Dana where she’d learnt her gift for massage with an erotic twist from? She said after arriving in Britain as an economic migrant, earning money to pay for a deposit on land back in her native Romanian village, she first stayed with a friend in Birmingham but had no job, no income! Then one day her flatmate suggest they both rent a bedroom, advertise ‘certain services’ on an adult website, both working giving intimate Swedish massages…………. massage ‘services’ you’ll not find on your average Town’s High Street.
Well fast forward her tale several years and Dana rented a bottom floor box bedroom within a back street terraced house in a part of Oxford, a place where you’ll not leave your car unattended………….. put it this way if you did, your car wouldn’t be there when you returned!!!
I’d better shorten my winding complicated tale because you all lead busy lives, just understand whilst surfing the net one evening I happened across this LEGAL adult website giving intimate massages, phoned the mobile number hoping I was speaking to the lady in the photographs and well I became her 4 o’clock afternoon appointment that same day.
You’ll all know by now I’m an honest guy, well the website is legal, the ladies are over age 18 and working independently of their own accord and incidentally Dana stresses she gives no sexual services………… which means neither penetration or felatio……… shame really because as I gazed into her eyes I didn’t half fancy a blowjob!
Well I travelled by bus to Oxford, found my way to the given name of the street, texted her for the house number at 3.55pm, then upon reaching the address told her my name through the intercom beside the front door. A buzzing sound came from said door lock and there standing in the hallway was one of the most beautiful young ladies I have ever seen in my life, slim gorgeous with a beautiful smile and warm becoming blue eyes.
I introduced myself and yes she was even more beautiful than her photos suggested, then followed her through one of the many doors into a dimly lit warm and cosy bedroom………..virtually absent of furniture other than a single bed with duvet, centrally heated, carpeted, very clean and extremely tasteful.
I handed Dana the advertised price and then stood there near speechless looking like a complete and utter lemon wondering what to do next? Until she said,
“Well take your clothes off!”
“All of them?” I rather lamely answered she must have though ‘Jesus I’ve a right one here!’
“Yes all of them honey” she said laughing now, “then take a shower” glancing past me toward an even SMALLER side room (wardrobe) no bigger than a shower cubicle………… err that’s what the cupboard was!
So, and writing here and now this anecdote still makes me laugh, Dana stood there in her fishnet stockings, latex high waisted tight fitting hot pants (no knickers hold that thought!) also a black padded bra revealing two of the most exquisitely shaped high round breasts you ever did see, I’m still smiling because this lady I’d known for sixty seconds stood but a metre close to me inside this tiny bedroom, and I near felt her burning gaze as I slipped down my boxer shorts, I glanced up and yes she was appraising my ‘bits and pieces’ ………… now just be aware I’m a clean bunny who was freshly showered wearing clean underwear, but as instructed I took a shower after being handed a fluffy soft towel.
(Why are Hotel towels always white?)
I should admit at this point Dana’s isn’t the first intimate masseuse I’ve had the pleasure of meeting, one time several years ago I had a finger in the ass prostate tickle but as the days past afterward, I decided the service wasn’t for me…………… yes one for the bucket list but I didn’t enjoy it!
I know I said ‘cutting a long story short’, well now I’m laying naked on her bed face down, a clean towel spread lengthways along the spongy quilt, arms down by my side then Dana places herself sitting on the tops of my legs, her two thighs either side my own and truth be told in a VERY firm vice like grip. Both Dana and I now comfortable I hear her squirt massaging oils into one hand from a bottle, then she began to push her hands deep into the small of my back, gliding them along my spine around my shoulders and all I can say is if you’ve never experienced warm skilful fingers work their magic on tired tight muscles, especially around the shoulders, if you haven’t then omg you haven’t lived! I will add Dana finger’s kneaded pushed and pulled tense muscles but not to worry she brought a true tingling warmth into my skin…………. btw I felt fabulous afterward!
And all the while we chatted about BREXIT, yes you did read right, she’s a working migrant from Romania! I talked about my family, we discussed Oxford architecture and I soon discovered Dana was witty personable friendly qualities you ascertain within minutes of meeting someone new, Dana is an intelligent young lady, then after 15 glorious minutes had passed rather abruptly she said,
“Now turn over!” Having first moved to one side,
followed by a firmly spoken, “spread your legs wide!”
Dutifully I ‘widened’ presenting my bits and pieces in what was a rather precarious position, with Dana finally sitting her bum on her thighs kneeling close between them, and omg you just have to know this goddess of a lady was so beautiful with the prettiest sweetest smile you ever did see……………. and a wicked gleam in her eyes! Like I said she enjoyed jerking men off, maybe the thrill for her was being in control and dominating a man, or perhaps giving hand relief is just a fun way to pay the gas bill? Either way it’s times like these that I’ve never felt more alive.
Dana now wearing a pair of delicate latex gloves from a box, slips them on, cups my testicle sack with the palm of her left hand and curls lubricated fingers around the shaft of my penis with the other, oh and I forgot to add I’ve rarely been so hard erect and engorged before. I’d guess staring at her gorgeous boobs and plunging cleavage was the reason for that…….. oh as for knowing she wore no knickers! Well put it this way slightly parted thighs and tightly fitting hotpants revealed all!!
I should say at this point do I really need to graphically explain the process of hand relief? Men of course understand the ‘process’ and I’d guess all women have serviced a partner, anyways all I will add is Dana possessed a skilful technique she described as luxurious (it was!) Well she worked her dextrous magic, my penis bucking as I’m brought to climax then bingo she directs a stream of warm semen across my stomach……………. any men reading appreciate the joyous heavenly pleasure.
(And with boobs as exquisite as those two you’ll appreciate I even impressed myself!)
So there you are the Swedish massage with intimate ‘happy ending’, and for any ladies reading all I can say is if you’re in search of a well paid fun occupation, you could do worse than train as a masseuse…………….. oh and I forgot to say Dana’s Birmingham flatmate gave her the confidence and now she gives ‘happy endings’ for a living!!!
I have an ADMISSION to make (lol all very dramatic), I wrote this Post way back in, err ‘History’ informs me the date was ‘April 13th’, yes 6 months ago! Well eversince then it’s been in Draft form and short story I reread yesterday and thought why not publish! Thoughtful and yes wordy but I enjoyed creating and that’s why we’re here 🙂 .
An observational brain-teaser of a post for you this evening and perhaps a little over the place but not to worry 🙂 so lol if you’re struggling with my stream of consciousness (wittering’s) keep in mind how wonderful the human brain is! Lol it helps.
Many years ago I heard a rather memorable saying, by chance mind, possibly off the telly who knows? I cannot remember the context or who said it and why, only that I remember this saying still to this day……………….. so lol do you wish to know what it is?
If you’d rather not, click away from this post right now! 😦
Oh you’re still here fabulous. I’m glad because I think my phrase is conceptually a fascinating saying for many many reasons, so here we go accompanied by an imaginary virtual drum roll! Jeeze lol I hope I haven’t built this moment tooo much, not to worry oh and the saying is more of a question where you fill in the answers……………….. possibly several or different from my own?
‘What are the three most beautiful sights to behold in all of creation?’ (I know a real mouthful!) Answer ‘a sleeping Baby, a running Horse and a naked Woman.’
So can you better these?
A sleeping Baby
A running Horse
…………… and a naked Woman.
Don’t you agree all 3 images are gorgeous on the eye? Especially the ‘naked’ woman I think she is quite stunning although the Artist escapes me. (As an aside I go to bed at night naked, doctors say it’s healthier 😀 )
Throughout history all the great artists have painted the female nude, perhaps you’ve the opinion God surpassed himself on that day of creation, I know I’m beside myself with joyous incredulity watching a sex partner take her bra and panties off! And the baby and horse come close.
Where was I? 😀 Oh yes phrases you’ve heard that lodge in YOUR brain forever and ever! Baby horse woman is mine, perhaps name me one of yours.
Have you ever listened into a conversation, overheard people chatting at a bus stop only to hear a phrase or saying that for some unknown reason, becomes hard wired into your brain, lodged in your consciousness, so much so out of all the other hundreds of human voices you’ve listened into that day you’ll remember this ONE phrase for the rest of the day? Perhaps be able to recall and quote it by the end of the week? Or incredibly it will seep back into your psyche at the most inopportune moment for the rest of the year! Life!
Of course you have and for some reason my brain will NEVER forget Baby Horse Woman and here’s I think why, it’s a natural World conundrum, three living images that are perfect in every way, a question that’s rather profound but perhaps most of all a puzzle that exercises my brain………………. lol over and over again!
Further still, I will run any number of combinations whilst idly sitting on a bus, or deep in thought walking to work! Here’s just a few.
I cannot think of any images more beautiful in all of nature. Not one.
I cannot think of a 4th worthy of inclusion, I’ll rack my brain but I honestly can’t come up with a 4th that deserves inclusion, not one! I’ll run through the order in my brain, are they equally beautiful or is there a 1st 2nd and 3rd?
If there is a 123 then which comes first?
If you were to ask me, lol a naked woman is 1st but I’d guess a mother would say the angelic serenity of her sleeping baby wins hands down.
Conundrum’s such as these can never be answered and you’ll of course have your own that’ll keep your brain ticking over when you’re bored, I have many.
So that’s the phrase hard wired into my brain.
A rather personal story follows which may not be of interest but was fun to write 🙂
The human brain holds a deep fascination for me, I’ve attended lectures given by eminent University Professors, I’ve purchased many books, always watch the latest TV documentaries and perhaps in part my interest is because I suffer from a brain disease! Yep each day I take 3 tablets, twice a day morning and evening, and they suppress electrical activity in such away that neurologists have pinpointed the dose at which they stop me having lol wild limb uncontrollable fits, and yet not tooo strong a mix of chemicals that would stop me functioning as a living human being.
My tablets are a potent mix of chemical compounds, if I take too many in one dose they alter enough activity in my brain, they suppress enough electrical activity to such an extent my eyesight becomes blurred and I’m unsteady on my feet, in effect they temporarily shut down brain functions.
Perhaps now you see why I often talk about my brain lol in a WordPress Post!
Why is it you can close your eyes and across your minds eye see the face of your first girlfriend in picture perfect clarity? Or say (I’m not married) why is it a mother could close her eyes and see a picture perfect photograph of the first occasion she set eyes on her daughter wearing her brilliant white wedding dress? Amazing fascinating and incredible.
Lol and I’ll not even begin to discuss human consciousness and the reason why we believe in supernatural spirits, have blind faith in the concept of an almighty God so much so that when we take our last human breathe, die so to speak why an earth have our brains convinced ourselves we will meet this spirit in an afterlife?
Yep I’m an unbeliever an open minded atheist, I don’t believe in Gods but I TRULLY wish I did because belief gives life a purpose, an end in sight that’s worth living through pain and hardship for, because you’re utterly convinced we’ve been put on earth for a reason? An amazing organ is the brain and that’s quite enough of atheism.
Returning to overheard sayings that remain with you for eternity, btw when you make it to the afterlife I guess your wonderful amazing brain remembers all life’s happy memories, photos of your loved ones and keeps them safe for ever and ever and ever? The amount of dirty legal consensual sexual activities I’ve gotten up to in my life, with ladies btw I’m not talking frigging sheep! Lolol, do they stay with me forever?
AND never ever forget this astonishing organ is the sole reason we enjoy sex! Experts say at the point of ejaculation, dopamine adrenalin serotonin and other mind altering pleasure giving neuro transmitters are coursing through the brain.
(Re. Whimsical Wednesday and a continuation to my earlier dancing themed post)
Theresa May, our ‘British Prime Minister danced herself onto the stage at the Conservative Party conference to………………….. wait for it! To the tune of Abba’s ‘Dancing Queen’.
So I ask you did she pull the stunt off or did she make a complete and utter fool of herself?
I hope the offending video manages to play in your country and hasn’t been blocked, if not go to YouTube!
I’m all against Minister’s of Parliament trying to be ‘hip cool and down with the kids’ whether playing electric guitars, telling jokes or regaling tales of their favourite rock groups it’s cringeworthy to the ninth degree………… however I do think Theresa ‘her of the leopard print shoes’ May just about carried the stunt off, she ‘flips’ and ‘flops’ but I do have a lot of time for Theresa, he says begrudgingly.
Any Minister who manages do remain in charge at The Home Office (Police, prisons, law and order) that graveyard of many a rising political career, and for six frigging years! Must be a skilled manager of people……………… perhaps she has one or two Brexit tricks up her sleeve before March 16th 2019…… here’s hoping!
On the other hand Britain’s about to leave Europe courtesy of Brexit, which is far from a laughing matter but I guess if you’re going to give a key note, much anticipated speech to the Nation then attempting a quirky stunt is worth a punt?
Those who dance are considered insane by those who can’t hear the music
(Coupled with amusing cartoons)
Hold that thought!
Late last evening (very late) and in draft form I wrote what would have been blog #8, a meandering train of consciousness continuing in the vain of parental relationship, more accurately my childhood relationship with my father and the reasons why and more importantly I don’t have children…………. all very serious nonsense!
But sometimes life stories are tooo personal even for WordPress.
Well I reread this morning with a coffee for company and yes lol the essay was cathartic however also ‘whiney’ and self indulgent CONSEQUENTLY it will not be published so probably that’s an end to my Caring for a Parent series, they’ve been thoughtful writing but I’d rather not milk the subject to death, so thank you so much for the feedback I really do appreciate it.
Now returning to Kim’s quotation which I still lol have trouble understanding.
If you can dance! (Alas I cannot and you don’t need me to try either) and btw I’m talking of adults at any age, close my eyes and I can still visualise my Uncle slow dancing at his daughter’s wedding, and even at @50yrs he looked pretty cool, AND more importantly he had married older women dancing with him!!!
(Here’s an honest afterthought, my parents met each other at a dance! Mum said my father couldn’t to save his life and would near twist himself into the floor……… this WAS the 60s after all)
So here’s a question, if you can cut a move on the dance hall floor, whatever the age maybe, is this the easiest way to catch a prospective mate? Or even 😉hook up with after the party’s over?
The hardest thing in the world is to strike up a conversation with a stranger you are physically sexually attracted to, all my life its struck me dancing with he/she is a great way (easier way) to break the ice AND seeing as you’re all holding Kim’s thought, could this be a reason why someone could be single?
If you can dance! Then you are cool.
A. Shepherdson 2018 (Grease photo borrowed from tinternet but note I DO NOT make money from blogging)
I have for you this evening a fun amusing (finger’s crossed) light hearted post not to be taken tooo seriously, and jeez don’t you find time passes all to quickly in life generally, oh and here on WordPress, a week’s passed and I haven’t ‘published’ (for several reasons) but there you are.
So like I said time for a post that’s a little more light hearted and how does the Muppets backing vocals to a Sex Pistols song grab you? Hey? I’d like to theme this post our love of Language and introduce you to a word you may have never heard before.
Frigging! (And yes it’s in the Oxford English Dictionary)
Frigging: My go to Blog word in place of profanity/vulgarity, I’ll even go as far as to say it’s becoming a firm favourite, you’re all lovers of the English Language, so have you ever heard the word and do you know what Frigging means? Have you ever seen it written into a Blog? I tend to use Frigging in place of swearing within my Blog, it’s less vulgar and sound’s awesome dripping off the tongue!
But before I begin, here are the Sex Pistols and quite unbelievably a Muppet cover! I dare you not to smile. 😀
(I do hope the Band’s South London accent translates and you’ll understand the lyrics if not Google! However alas I don’t think the video ‘combo’ is Jim Henson’s but apparently he loved it!)
A second reason for writing this evening’s post is I came to realise after writing for a few months on WordPress my language was appalling, and by that I mean foul language. Oh yes I used f### and s###, as noun verb and it’s descriptive sister in crime adjective far far tooo often, once or twice is ok? Any more and the F word loses all shock value, it’s okay to perhaps emphasise a calamity or the worst of behaviour but unacceptable remembering teenagers may read my Posts? Don’t please 🙂 . AND as my old School teacher used to chastise, swearing is ‘lazy writing’ and I’m inclined to agree.
Not quite acceptable in everyday spoken polite society but if you did say “Frig me” or “Frigging Hell” it’s just about acceptable………… certainly sounds less harsh on the ear than ‘F’.
I first stumbled across Frigging as an 11yr old and I can remember precisely where I was and who said it. By Martin Ashby on a Scout camp in Hampshire 19##. But I’m doubtful anyone reading this post has either used or perhaps ever heard of Frigging? ……………… OMFG I’ve only this second realised I haven’t shared The Oxford English Dictionary meaning with you………….. Frigging means clitoral stimulation or to a lesser extent male masturbation, and now you know the meaning doesn’t it sound rather delicious? Anyways I apologise for revealing so late in this evening’s post.
So there you are, Frigging! I hope to see it written in your blog posts sooon! And btw do not assume I’m a grammatical expert ask me to define verb and I’ll answer FU.
If a sober guy looks at your bosom, tell him to “please stop” and 98% will.
I have a brief tale to tell though before you ask, because I know you are curious! NO I didn’t take these lady’s photos, most definitely not but if you’re a prolific Google imager like myself then you never know what you will discover if you search hard enough.
😋 She fit’s my post!
🤔 Perhaps a cautionary tale though, goes to show ladies have to be very aware of men and their digital cameras, lean forward ‘snap’ and the boobs are on the internet!…………….. But not to worry, I’m using this lady both for a genuine reason and I’m assured she’s an anonymous D list celebrity? Hmm lol “I’m sayin nothin!”
Within my more thoughtful posts I have touched on the serious subject of sexual harassment, with the after #MeToo fallout very much in focus, well I have a true tale which I think throws up some interesting talking points.
Several weeks ago I was chatting to a young lad at work who said he’d been out drinking with three friends the evening before, turns out the sun was shining so all four were sat outside around a wooden table in the Pub’s garden…………. a very British pastime, every Public House will have it’s own small garden or terrace for patrons to enjoy.
So these four lads were quietly drinking beer at their table, all very civilised none were drunk or being rowdy or loud, they were I’m told chatting being sociable and having a laugh. All good fun and every so often a barmaid would visit their table for I guess empty glasses, take a bar food order or bring more drinks, then my friend tells me as the barmaid was leaning over their wooden table handing out pints of beer she said,
“Will you four stop trying to look down my blouse!”,
He went on to give more clarity to his tale, she wasn’t p#ssed the lads and barmaid were on very friendly terms, their interactions were all proper and above board and I’d guess being as she was a barmaid and they were lads I’d guess there was plenty of flirting and light hearted banter, after she’d err told them to stop I’d guess knowing my work colleague there’d have been amused protestations such as,
😉 “WHAT me?” (His words).
With ladles of wounded pride thrown in to good measure, and the way he shared his tale nothing more was said end of, certainly no Police were summoned or the Head Publican called to eject the lads from the premises, no the lady was quite aware they were peeking and for sure the lads were trying to glance down her open blouse…………….. I know for certain most men would!………. Now I realise ‘man hating lesbian feminists’ will disagree with what I am about to say,
“But don’t you think the barmaid handled the situation in exactly the right way?”
Btw I am also a feminist!
If she’d been getting increasingly tired of the lad’s furtive attention wasn’t warning the four 18yr teens enough? Yes the Pub garden is her very own workplace but there wasn’t any need to create a scene, the group and herself were all getting on fine, friendly and no doubt sexuality and the (adult) drinking atmosphere affected everyone’s behaviour, my friend saw the humour and the barmaid let it be known who was in charge……….. everyone had a giggle, the Pub didn’t lose four future paying customers and no scene or drama was created.
Ok I’d agree if you said my example of inappropriate behaviour is unique as every scenario will be, for one a drinking establishment barmaid won’t be any shrinking violet, she’d know exactly the right way to handle groups of leery lads who were overstepping the mark anyways you decide, I’ve met tiny barmaids who could eject fighting men just by a strength of personality.
Never argue with a p#ssed and angry woman, you’ll lose!!!
There of course could be an argument put forward by a certain British Police Commissioner that ladies should dress appropriately because short dresses can lead to unwanted attention, hmm who’s he blaming?
But I have a feeling the majority of right minded thinking adults agreed he was talking out of his arse and I’d hope his wife and daughters, if he had any, would have put him straight namely the fact a woman is assaulted isn’t her own fault, wear an open collared blouse if you wish AND I would add if a guy try’s to look down at your goodies, tell him to “get lost” or “please stop”.
And he will. Also.
If you’re in an underground train carriage and a guy attaches his grubby fingers to your ‘sweet lil ass’, tell him to “keep your hands to yourself!” And shout as loudly as you can so everyone else can hear you!
Confidence is key?
Okay I understand every case of sexual impropriety is different to another and further this blog isn’t a political platform only my own thoughts and observations, so what are mine?
For what it’s worth my own thoughts after hearing my colleagues Pub garden tale, was the barmaid handled herself correctly, the four decent hard working lads were warned and next time would hopefully be less obvious and take greater care when trying to look down a female’s open blouse!
No harm was done discuss!
Finally I’m here to say human beings are sexual animals, a woman will look at a man’s bulge in his trousers, a guy will look at a woman’s cleavage…………… you have to accept because that’s called ‘the way of the world’.
Early evening thoughts and now in comments tell me what you think please. 🤔
I’ll theme today’s post a few thoughts on being safe on the internet because I’ve facts I wish to share. Now I wholeheartedly agree we have to be super careful on the internet, we all know that!
I’d guess we all adhere to the basic rules for internet safety like no names, no addresses, no telephone numbers, no email addresses, no workplace names, no City/Town street addresses, no photographs in fact don’t give any personal information away whatsoever.
As an aside, I read something the other day to the fact an online criminal only needs three pieces of information, three keys to unlock a carefully guarded secure safe and discover every fact about you if they have the evil skills to no how to track you down.
Yes apparently all that’s required are three facts and Jesus if true this is absolutely scary as f###, I’ll enlighten you because you may be curious, but apparently all that’s required are,
1. Your second name. 2. The City or Town you work in. 3. The name of your employer.
And what if someone you know in real life unscrupulously gives away those three sacred pieces of information?
Frigging scary isn’t it! We’re so careful with the information we tell of ourselves, but it turns out from collecting just these three pieces of information, cyber-criminals could potentially unravel your entire life, and the more I look the more I agree 123 is all that’s required.
We were sold a dream the internet is this wonderful tool for pleasure and work, turns out the internet is 90% pornography driven, then there’s the money laundering, dark web, credit card fraud, terror beheading videos on YouTube, FB and fake news and any number of signed for websites giving your personal data away to all and sundry!
A Blog about my mother, 19/09/2018 (and yes I have adapted/borrowed the title from John Mortimer’s autobiography)
Several readers will be aware I have a treasured photo album that I’ve been known to dip into, well above is possibly both my favourite and yes treasured family picture, and truthfully I’ve thought about why so for quite a while now. The lady in the centre is my mother and the year taken, other persons present and occasion are irrelevant, as to the reason I love this is picture, well it’s little more than mum’s facial expression as always she’s listening to someone 100% concentrated on their story, the lady speaking is a relative now long deseased but Mum’s empathy and gift of listening never differs.
Please read on.
Today’s trail of consciousness began ‘# caring for a parent’ but ended as chatting about my mother! Anyways I’ve had lovely feedback from this blog series and I’m back home the consequence is there’s time for afterthoughts……….. Anyways lol my WordPress, and as you know writing exercises the ‘old grey matter’……….. btw you won’t believe what I’ve been up to recently! Look out for a blog titled…….!!
With yet another ( 🤔 long) post appearing in your reader you may have guessed I’m on holiday, well hurricane Ali has touched ground, is denoted as a danger to human life, so rather than paint my garden fence I’d better stay indoors writing and reading blogs!!!
The off shoot of writing extended blogs is you often revisit themes you’ve touched on before, well I’ve told you before Dad and I have never been that close, no drama here, no perhaps the reason is we’re kindrid spirits tooo alike and the more I wander this spinning planet the more I’m convinced family genetics denote the path you take through life. I really do question if the choices we make are as random as we like to think, jeez I’ve touched on this before with my post Luck and Chance.
The problems that have enveloped my father I pigeon hole as ‘that’s life, however emotionally I’d have been hit hard if God forbid this had happened to Mum, really hard 😟, she’s the most positive can do person I know, completely selfless, a charity volunteer and because her pre retirement occupation was working with people, Mum is known by virtually everyone in Town (well not quite but you get the idea) her job entailed interacting with hundreds of persons each day as many jobs do.
She has a gift of empathy, her mother also so again family genes are at play, I guarantee if you bloggers reading now, were ever to meet Mum within minutes it would be like chatting to an old friend you hadn’t seen in a while, whereas if I meet someone it’s jeez awkward to begin with, youknow uncomfortable pauses and then I get into the swing, but with Mum friendliness comes easy because she is a people person, always cheerful, always listening, always interested and with an amusing turn of phrase.
Come to think about it so is my sibling (he/she)
And because I am a people watcher through and through, since childhood days I’ve witnessed those intimate chatty conversations with guests in hotels, with mum’s outside schoolgates, days out, golden wedding gatherings, funeral wakes (not fun places are they), you name the setting and she chats to anyone, and as a child it would drive me frigging crazy because sometimes you just want to get away and do whatever.
But now that I’m older I watch near open mouthed asking myself ‘how does she do it?’ Truthfully I can be left dumbfounded and she’s far from encroaching on people’s time, no it’s as if the person Mum is talking to has known her all their lives.
There’s the new-ish circle of friends at the dancing club, she knew not one, now she goes on holiday with them, then there’s the pet activity circle, the retirement dinner club, not forgetting coffee morning circles, the voluntary work, the new and existing neighbours and if you live in America you’ll probably not be aware Britain’s a small island inhabited with 80million people consequently we lock ourselves away in homes encircled by tall fences for privacy, yet mum without being a hindrance or nuisance can be chatting to someone in a driveway just like in the good old Grandmother days.
In fact the family laugh because if mum ever walked our first collie dog and met someone she knew (or didn’t), the dog wouldn’t stand and pause, or sit and wait, no she’d lay on the path on her side and drift into a deep sleep instinctively sensing this would be one long conversation, incidentally the only member of the family she did it with.
And no lol I’m not one of those dysfunctional single middle aged men society labels as mother’s boys, unable to cope having never cut themselves away from a skirt hem of domineering mother’s. No she’s never been overbearing or ruled my life (that’d never ever happen I can tell you and if she knew about my sex life she’d either laugh or whatever….. she won’t). Back on track! Similar to all adult children, when you visit your parents a generation of years are swept away and adorably you’re chastised as if aged 11 all over again………… and this never fails to make me smile….. nothing really changes!
Where was I?
Oh yes weird or dysfunctional mother’s boys, ok that’s unfair! Which has just reminded me of an evening’s phone call towards the end of a 35 degree baking hot week,
“Nice of you to phone and ask how your elderly parents were coping with the heat”, a blend of humour AND serious annoyance in her voice! I think an enquiry had been expected, 🤔perhaps thoughts of a third of British women shedding their summer bras was playing on my imagination…………. Women just don’t go braless in the UK, but weeks of sweating temperatures ensured there were jiggling breasts and pointed nipples as far as oxfords eyes could see, 😢totally out of character but all gone now, and as you know I am a boob man through and through.
Where was I?
My parents and I don’t live in each others pockets, she as I said leads a fun independent life and if I owned a car then yes I should could and would do more, but calling in to chat catchup and listen is a great excuse for not actually doing a great deal of work…………. the point being?
My sibling is busy bringing up daughters, their daily life is busy busy busy, which from the outside appears little more than daily crisis management where the female adult never ever appears to stop working, as I’d guess all mothers can attest . So without donning the role of martyr I realise I will have to be more proactive in the future, my sibling(s?) live many miles away and the burden could/should rest on my shoulders however I’m far from feeling resentful, if these last four days have taught me anything 🤔 interesting days lay ahead.
Blog #6 and yes it’s part of my # series ‘Caring For a Parent’, only this time I’ve titled the post ‘The Three Horseshoes’, btw if you didn’t already know my mum was on holiday with her friends and for the very first time ever I moved back home to look after Dad blah blah blah lol………….. well as of now she’s returned home refreshed, very happy (with me) and likewise I’m back at my home!
You still with me?
I’d like to add I’m not trying to make a point, convey a message, give advice this blog series is what it is an honest window into my life as many bloggers do………. and yes I have surprised myself because mum left the house with these words ringing in my ears,
“You will be patient won’t you?” which was more an instruction than a question, anyways all went well, no drama and no doubt I’ll be doing this all again which is food for thought.
Where was I?
Oh yes ‘The Three Horseshoes’, now please look at my photographs above, the building’s style lettering and swinging board and you may have correctly deduced this is a traditional English Public House, in other words a hostelry that sell beers spirits, a place where people go to enjoy a drink with friends and have a pint of beer and a ‘good old chin wag’………… put the worlds to rights!
I’ll cut a short story even shorter ’cause perhaps readers are thinking I’m getting carried away with my caring abilities, I’m not, these four days have been a learning exercise I’ve never had children so I could consider myself a virgin carer, anyways returning to my tale!
Several mornings a week my mother walks Dad to the bus stop around the corner, sees him onto a bus heading to the centre of Town and he actually recognises the stop he needs to get off at, then he takes the very short walk to ‘The Three Horseshoes’ by himself. Well I didn’t trust this scenario and didn’t want to be the one to frigging lose him, jeez that wouldn’t have gone down well with the sibling so with this in mind I travelled with Dad finally delivering him safely to the Pub!
Joking apart, once inside the daytime barman says, (along with a few funny lines!)
“Sit down in your usual seat ‘name’ and I’ll bring over your buttered teacake and coffee”, at the same time as taking a £5 note and handing back the change, he’s a wonderful guy in my opinion, mum gets half hour to herself Dad gets a little exercise and a change of scene.
Yes I said wonderful man, this guy doesn’t need to do all this, other barmen may say to themselves ‘this pensioner has memory problems, not my problem to look after him, surely he can visit a pensioner day centre rather than my pub!’ Or am I overplaying his generosity and being disingenuous to most Publicans? Many landlords wouldn’t, in my opinion, and yes to me this small kind service reaffirms my faith in human nature please feel free to comment.
Then half an hour later after coffee and teacake have been consumed Dad is still able to find his correct Town centre bus stop and make his own way home………… incidentally you may be curious to know I’d left the pub earlier and he made his own way home……. ‘phew’ another day gone without a hitch!
To be continued with afterthoughts and conclusions?
I’ve created a little controversy on this blog several posts back, but conversation and debate is good just goes to show words possess great power, a lesson Tony Blair should have heeded when he took us to war………… 45 minutes to Armageddon was a premeditated lie that cost many good lives. (Prosecute as a war criminal?)
Moving on, enough of war.
(These blogs are series of thoughts while my mother is away and I’m looking after Dad.)
Why show photographs of a Fish and Chip restaurant you may ask, well Sunday evening come teatime I gave my father two meal options thus,
“Would you like a ‘Charlie Binghams Cottage Pie’ mum left in the fridge, or ‘Fish and Chips’ from ‘The Codfather’ takeaway restaurant on their estate” I err inquired.
And gleefully smiling Dad answered, wait for it, “Fish and Chips please”.
So dutifully off I trot with my day-sack to that very British institution every UK town possesses, and ours as you can see is called ‘The Codfather’ a rather clever take on ‘The Godfather’ and I have a feeling the lady who owns the shop breaks any number of copyrights! She is yes of Italian descent a lovely woman and fabulous restaurateur and YES you did that read correctly.
The poster below hangs on a wall in her shop, caught my eye, I guess many a customer’s eye!
Most definitely a restauranteur.
English ‘Fish and Chips’ is far from easy to cook properly in bulk, in fact I’ve visited many a takeaway where the chips have been cold soggy wet and made from crap potatoes, not her’s this lovely personable lady’s food is severed up golden crispy brown, fish with crunchy batter and cod with the whitest flesh you have seen, consequently customers have to get their early because waiting queues spill out the door into the street……… every evening!
Yes Marlon Brando photos and movie still posters adorn the walls with the added bonus her @25yr old daughter served me, again friendly like her mother (blonde ponies are so becoming) and because the ovens are so hot she wore a low cut green tee shirt exposing an ample cleavage, near spilling out as she leaned forward packing my fish and chips into paper, jeez I gazed straight down when her mother wasn’t looking…………. lol judge me isn’t (appropriate) sexuality the way of the world? Must do wonders for custom from middle aged men! ( 😀 she’s aware)
Anyways enough sexy silliness!
A Pub fact for you, did you know throughout World War 1 an order was past down from the highest echelons of our Government, ordering that’s fleets of trawler-men catch fish as a priority and Fish and Chip shops in towns the length of Britain were to be supplied with cooking oil potatoes and fish, they became a staple hot nutritious meal for land and munitions workers whilst their men fought and died in Northern France.
So the meal should be revered and remembered as a British Institution through and through……….. btw it is 🙂 .
Takeaway meal packed up I payed my £7.50, took them home, plated up and served to a very pleased and happy father, I’m not quite sure if he’s allowed or they have adverse effects when taken with evening medication, 😀 either way I shan’t tell Mum but hey we both enjoyed them.
Then rather heart breaking, after both washing up the dishes he turned to me and solemnly asked a ‘loaded’ question,
“You are staying, you’re not going home are you!?”
Well I’ll be honest and say I’ve heard this said before or similar, you all have, kinda heart breaking because at moments such as these a child realises our lives have turned full circle, by that I mean the parent needs the child rather than the other way round as it was throughout the child’s youth.
We’ve all experienced this, I don’t wish to overplay or symbolize those moments except to say you realise they need you and worry about any possible consequences if you’re not there………….. or probably they just like the company.
The title Blog #4 will hopefully tell you this post is part of a ‘family/relationship/caring for’ blog series.
My parents own a collie cross who as many of you pet owner’s will agree, has become an integral and important loving member of the family, good company for them both she needs exercising and enjoys reminding no begging/pestering us to take her out for walks, owning a dog is a great form of exercise and companionship however isn’t for everyone? Anyways this afternoon I walked the dog around our lake and Town’s nature reserve and took quite a few autumn scene photographs………… I hope you enjoy.
We are lucky and as I’ve hinted at before the majority of Town’s right across the UK have their own small wildlife sanctuaries with woods and lakes, ideal for dog walkers or family’s with pushchairs and maybe joggers…………. saw a lovely ‘bouncy’ lady in tight leggings and green licra today, the sight of pretty ladies always brightens the day especially if she smiles at you 🙂 !
I would like to add a word of caution to owning pets, yes they can be a focal point and comfort but please don’t go getting one on my say so, everyone’s home circumstances are different both ability to care for and give exercise to, plus the cost of food vet bills etc but 🙂 then you all know that.
Unfortunately in the UK our seasons are most definitely changing, the air temperature has dropped by half from a balmy 30 degrees and leaves on the trees are turning rustic browns and golds, oh and as you’ll see horse chestnut fruit is falling to the ground ready for children to collect and play the English game of ‘conkers’.
Hm when I retire one day I’ll buy myself a Border Collie pup
A lady called Lesley, and I doubt she’ll mind me saying she’s also a blogging Grandmother, replied to Caring for Parents #2, in fact she’s replied to several of my posts. Well short and sweet for now, because I’d like to respond to her comment a little later, I’m going to share with you her thoughts as to said post by repeating her reply below, (come on keep up 😀 ) and if you’ve gleaned anything from my blog you’ll know I LOVE thought provoking comment.
Btw my mother’s on holiday and I’ve moved home to look after my father who has memory problems.
So I’m wondering was my Blog #2 clumsily written, who I am, ageist or a combination of all three? Yes to all three and perhaps a little offensive as well however they’re my thoughts transferred to print at the time, so I’ll quote someone I work with by saying,
“No worries all’s good good”.
My mother gleefully phoned this Sunday morning to check up on how things are going and she’s having a wonderful time dancing and sightseeing with her friends, great and btw the weather’s turned overcast. As to the point behind this post series they’re little more than experiences of caring for my father over 4 days, I’ve provoked one very interesting response so I’m very happy and certainly not seeking approval……………. you get the idea.
Lesley’s enlightening reply, I hope I’m this active also positive when I retire……. oh and with a fulfilling ‘adventurous’ sex life!!
Old people’s homes????? Really??? That is agism, my friend!
I live in a 55 and older condo community and I am NOT old!!! BTW, Those communities are so much more economical than keeping up a giant sized home when the kids have flown the coop and the hubby has passed on. No, I am not in my 70’s like your mom, but even if I were, I still wouldn’t consider myself old. I can tell you that the people I know who are in their late 60’s and early to mid 70’s are living vital, full, exciting lives. Heck, all the rock icons are aging and they aren’t over the hill yet.Just watch Mick Jagger in concert!
I’m retired from teaching and each day when I get up, I have my morning cup of coffee,go onto my laptop or iPad Pro, and check my FB page, my twitter account, my blog, my emails, and jot down ideas for the a new chapter in my novel. Then, I usually write an assessment on one of my social media sites of what our ridiculous excuse for a President has done to destroy democracy and move on from there. Sometimes, I write in my blog, while still lingering over my coffee, and other times I get back to work on my novel and plug forward to finish another couple chapters. But, I NEVER watch game shows. I hate them. I may watch CNN, MSNBC or something relevant to see what is happening in the world so I know what is going on before I venture out on my errands. But no silly shows. I do confess I have a weakness for Judge Judy and so I record her and watch when I have a chance.
I am very, very sorry your father is having memory problems. That could happen to any one of us, and he is fortunate to have your Mom and you to help him through it. I don’t envy either of you as that can’t be easy. But that doesn’t mean your parents are old. In fact, people in their 70’s are relatively young. My older brother is 72 and he is still very cool. And my younger sister just retired this year and now we get to see each other much more often. We Iive in different cities but speak daily and talk about our Tai chi classes, download new books to read each month and we drive and meet for lunch to discuss them in a book club we belong to.
But seriously? To reduce the interests of middle aged people to Brain numbing fodder???? I don’t think so!!! Notice I said middle aged not old… or elderly. I told my children I can not be referred to as old until I hit my 70’s but I have decided recently that I am raising that age to 80. Today people over 50 are more computer savvy and more vital than ever.
I am involved with political groups and get together online and in person to change the political climate happening in America. I teach poetry in my grand children’s classrooms. I write lessons for the school board and I am in my 60’s. My profile picture on this site was taken about a couple years ago on my laptop so it is pretty current and I don’t think I look or act like an elderly person. (Well, maybe when I have the flu.) What I am trying to say is…. I call myself a “Junior” Senior. I am still vital, important, and able to contribute to society in a positive way and can still change the world. And so can your mom. Do not underestimate women of a certain age.
I am paraphrasing, but Gloria Steinem said something to the effect that “Men become more conservative as they age and women become more adventurous, open minded, and rebellious. Some day the world will be run a bunch of gray haired ladies!” So my friend, NEVER refer to senior communities as old folks. We love, we laugh, we drink, we dance and we have sex. YES! We still raise hell.
The Peace, Love, and rock and roll generation will never grow old!
Well here I am sitting at my parents house, my Mum’s staying in a seafront Hotel in Eastbourne on a dancing holiday with her girlfriends, she’s 73 years young! Holly the doggy collie is sitting by my side (annoyed because she’s hungry) as I tap away at my laptop on the dining room table, and my father is sat in the living watching the television, ‘Bargain Hunt’ to be exact, one of the many daytime TV shows dished up in a schedule dominated by gardening makeovers, game shows and cookery programs.
(Shaking my head in despair lol)
For heavens sake I’ve just watched one where this expert chef ‘cook’ in inverted commas cause I think that’s debatable, shows the viewers how to make Quail curry? WTF………….. daytime TV sucks, and such a great reason for not watching television full stop…………. that’s unfair, let’s say in moderation?
I’m asking you, is this mind numbing brain fodder being served up to residents in old people’s homes up and down the country healthy?………… So sad that intelligent elderly people are placed into these institutions, through no fault of their own and yes I know they receive great care, but I’d guess they have little choice than to watch these shows with chuckling happy presenters and even more excited game players………….. lol ‘Homes Under The Hammer’ is another one, the dictionary definition of light entertainment!
So why am I residing at my parent’s home, and note I’m neither feeling glum resentful or bitter (don’t judge me I’ll return to this theme), no all you really need to be aware of is my father has memory problems, is unable to care for himself and my mother needed a weekend away with her girlfriends so I’m being the dutiful son and moving back home ahh lol…………. no I am most definitely not resentful, she’s having fun and me living with Dad is ok except for crap telly.
Thank the lord for Wi-Fi, the internet takes some tongue lashing and justified criticism but log in and you’ll always find something worthwhile reading, and it’ll lol keep me sane what with reading blogs and keeping up to speed with people’s latest posts oh and watching boxing news videos on YouTube (so funny when Promoters Eddie Hearn and Frank Warren back and forth keep slagging each other off………… viewing life’s not so bad!
Anyways my father’s asked if I’d go down the fish and chip shop for supper…………… to be continued!
You may have read my previous post, the one where I visited a Tiger sanctuary in deepest rural England, well short and sweet after uploading I suddenly had this feeling, ‘do I want to write on WordPress anymore?’
Regular readers will know I’m always very honest, you wanna read lurid tales of me in bed with 60yr old ladies? Look to the right but not tonight.
Do you know looking back, I’ve only just checked and seen last week was exactly 6 months blogging on any platform, a marathon effort AND those lovely people at WP notified me I’d received 1000 Likes, I love Likes, I don’t get many comments but I’ll admit to being a Like whore? But on the other hand perhaps those finishing thoughts had more to do with the Black Dog visiting last week.
So yes 6 months ‘creating’ and well I’m back with a very different post series themed caring for elderly parents, my father to be exact. The point being I have absolutely no idea how these will be received (or how many I write), I’m a positive guy so my thoughts and musings will be positive but as for interesting? Well it’s not a sexy subject is it getting old. Hm perhaps I was a little jaded from posting on average every 3 days for half a year and as blogger’s always tell you ‘this has to be fun or why do it’, then again you don’t know me.
Anyways I have a feeling the TV’s been scrambled by the sound of beeping remote contols so this will be continued………….
I have just returned from seeing my dentist and I’m feeling elated, on cloud nine my brain experiencing a legal chemical induced high and I know why. Anxiety consumed my mind as I pushed through the door into Mr Coull’s dental surgery, if that’s correct phrase, he does the examination cleans what little staining there is on the teeth with a jet of high pressure water, gives them a polish then says ,
“They look fine Andrew”, sporting his friendly smile such a charming man, soon followed with,
“I’ll see you in nine months, take care”.
And minutes later I leave his Practice yes feeling near ecstatic. You’ll all understand why visiting a dentist is so damn worrisome, first any work that has to be done is frigging expensive some people can cancel their annual holiday because a bill can be so expensive, secondly any work done is frigging painful, and lastly this is probably just the beginning of treatment because your teeth are on a downward spiral with dentures on the horizon………… yes I’m near orgasmic.
Examination over I walk straight for the supermarket with adrenalin and dopamine altering my mind and how I view the world, so strange it HAS TO be related to a body’s pleasure giving chemicals? Why else can you one minute be feeling utter sh#t then ten minutes later acting like your veins have taken a syringe of heroin? (Hypothetically speaking)
Anyways that’s not the only reason for tonight’s impromptu post. I had been extra worried today because several weeks ago my father, the one suffering memory problems, had Mr Coull extract umpteen teeth and he had a full mouthful!.
So let’s rewind my tale to first sitting in Hamish’s examination reclining chair, now comfortable I asked him,
“You’re my father’s dentist, several weeks ago you took 10 teeth out, does that mean bad teeth are hereditary and the same will happen to me?”
(Forgot to say I bumped into my Mum in the waiting room she’s broken a tooth! £256 for a crown, forgot to ask her how).
Back to my anxious question,
“Are bad teeth hereditary?”
“No Andrew, I cannot say to much because of patient confidentiality, but your father’s problem stems from drinking tea and coffee laced with sugar”.
I knew this of course in fact I’ve known he drank near hot syrup for the last 40 years”
Hamish Coull continued, “The reason is sugary drinks, however sugar isn’t the problem, let me explain, hypothetically if you ate a whole packet of biscuits straight off your mouth would soon recover as saliva neutralises plaque acid and you’d be back to normal.”
Hmm never heard that one before and he’s my dentist I thought to myself, fascinating insight.
He went further and I’m riveted.
“Regarding sugary hot drinks, the problems begin because it takes about half an hour to drink a cup of coffee, you take a mouthful, your mouth is acid filled for a few minutes and just as saliva is about to kick in, do it’s job, you take another sugary mouthful and as a consequence over that half hour your mouth has been filled with sugar and plaque acid for the whole time”.
“That’s why such a person would have ten decayed teeth taken out in one go!”
And there’s MORE bad news!
“I see the problem starting in young children because they’ll buy a tin of coke and then sip. Sip. Sip, and for ten minutes their teeth never recover from a prolonged acid attack!”
(That’s Sugar Free Coke for me from now on!)
Well all I can say is I wanted to share Mr Coull’s advice to my Readers, because tonight is the very first time I’ve heard the basic reason for tooth decay described in one short brilliant analogy by an expert (who my mum has a crush on!) Seems you can eat a whole packet of biscuits and be fine, but sip sugary drinks for half an hour and all your teeth will rot and be expensively painfully extracted.
I’m openly honest here on my WordPress, tooo honest sometimes, well I’m hoping you’ll have read my story ‘I bit my Pillow!’ and if you did you’ll remember I said I would let you know which parts are true as happened and which parts are fiction!
‘I bit my Pillow!’, I 😀 agree a bl**dy awful title.
When I said we had gay sex and kissed well that was 100% fiction sorry to disappoint, but as I said yesterday parts are true. So just to be clear the sex is drawn from my imagination………… lol I cannot make you believe me but jeeze I hope you do.
So now you’ve read the tale this is how the episode came about btw in the spirit of fairness and honesty this is an old tale I enjoyed re writing.
Many years ago whilst holidaying by myself in central France, late one summer’s evening I found myself sitting alone inside Le Man’s Railway Station waiting room. The tale of how I came to be there is a rather long and tortuous one just understand I’m feeling desperate, my spoken French is embarrassingly appalling, the Station is emptying about to close for the night and I had absolutely nowhere to sleep that night, my only certainty within minutes the Entrance gates would be locked shut and I was soon to experience how sleeping rough on the Street actually feels…………. a truly spine chilling thought and terribly sad for the people who have no choice!
Then with only minutes to spare a middle aged guy appears as if from nowhere, sits down beside me and strikes up a conversation with this weary disorientated very depressed traveller. I was far from feeling sorry for myself, couldn’t understand him and my tired mind was in the grip of fear and loneliness, he invited me to spend the night in his home and I said yes!
I ask what an earth would you do faced with a night living on the Streets? The possibility of being mugged raped beaten up murdered a possibility, or the comfortable certainty of being driven by a rather polite personable guy to his home? Better still an unknown home where he’d provide you with a warm bed to sleep the night in. What’s more he promised on his life he’d drop me back at Le Man’s Station early next morning!
Lol what a friendly treasure, who could say no?
What a predicament what a dilemma, even if I’d been at my strongest mentally the choice would have been challenging, THAT my mind was frazzled and unable to think straight made the decision easy. But if I’d been consciously aware and thinking straight I would have absolutely figured out he was a gay man with ulterior predatory motives, a guy cruising public places late at night looking for single men to take home and have sex with! If I’d been approached on a railway station platform in Britain I would have politely told the guy to,
“Get blank lost!” (I wouldn’t lol but you get my gist)
But this late French evening I thanked my kind Samaritan and let him drive me to his home, from first meeting him to being whisked across the City into his bedroom seemed a mere blur of five minutes, and to this day I cannot understand whether I was stupidly foolhardy or naïve, qualities that have plagued my adult life.
So remember the sex in my tale was fiction all I can admit is I must have been frigging tired because to this day I still don’t no why I went to bed with him?…… Honestly the strangest evening of my life, ask me what went on and well the light dial was turned to a warming dim glow…..…..……, I gazed up at a light flex hanging from the ceiling, then got up and slept on his sofa. (We make bad choices in life get carried away suck it up and move on.)
And I felt wretched for months after, despairingly upset is closer to the truth, I understand why people do dread a terrible dark memory seeping into their consciousness, they drain you of all energy and I did lapse into a deep depression, because well I’m straight! Our meeting confused because I consider myself groomed taken advantage of and tricked into bed, and in those months after I’d gaze at myself in the mirror with feelings of shame knowing I had to face the cold hard fact that I was a naïve guy who can be too trusting…………… but hey show me someone who hasn’t made unfortunate choices and I’ll show you a liar!!
So you get the feeling I hated myself? And note my tale is far from sensationalism, all good story’s are prompted by true events.
And what of today? Thinking back all these years later, that I went to bed naked with a naked guy ‘who fancied me’ is deliciously hilarious, the irony now is every time I think back to our night together I cannot help laughing, where’s the sin in admitting I can be tricked when I know I’m straight and omg what a surreal memory and btw I hope you’re thinking to yourselves ‘whatever!’ 😀
I know I know complete madness going home with a guy I’d never met before, even worse when I came out the shower and he’s standing there naked, jeeze he’d lied to me tricked me groomed me and yes I could have been raped or worse it happens………… I wasn’t. I should add I hope you’re not tooo disappointed to read my plump round ass wasn’t lol violated, anyways all said and done my gay French guy tale will go down as the strangest experience of my life……… I only wish I’d been approached by a kind hearted woman with darker motives!
A. Shepherdson 2018 (Just so as you know I had a blast writing these last 3 posts and 😀 I really hope some readers were left disappointed)
Yes I realise ‘I bit my Pillow’ wasn’t the best title to have been penned by an erotic author……………. lol sorry it was the best I could come up with and yes I am happy to say I’m an author (of sorts). Aren’t we all?
No messing. Short and sweet. I’ll get straight to the point and say my tale called ‘I bit my Pillow!’ is fiction HOWEVER DON’T leave my blog quite yet because parts of that tale are true as happened.
(Btw if you are at all concerned, don’t be, my semi true tale is very tame reading but there is a context and I’ll reveal that tomorrow.)
The gay sex, the passionate kissing, the fingers in my ass never ever happened, though for very unique and quite frankly unusual reasons I did go to bed with the Frenchman in my tale, and yes we were both naked both not wearing a stitch of clothing!
So are you relieved? Or disappointed?
Tomorrow I will to tell you why in heavens name I slept with the guy, and how I came to be in his house taking a shower in the first place! It all makes for a fascinating read to myself, but perhaps not interesting enough to share.
(Btw a nature walk with photos follows sooon!)
Should I be admitting all my honesty here? Perhaps not but hey I’m not ashamed of anything and if you wish to read more well tune in tomorrow.
This post is what it is, me sharing thoughts with MY WordPress, and I will try my best (as always) to keep these shared thoughts 🙂 positive light and interesting…………. call this one a little more serious than usual. (Any comments would be most welcome).
Followers who’ve read my family tales of which I know there are several, may have noticed I’ve never written a single word of my father, I don’t wish to start now except to say ours was a strained relationship (my fault?), dad is/was a good man honest hard working kind and generous but looking back on my childhood and years after I feel he let me down. If my mother read this post she’d be very upset but that’s the way I feel, just remember little more went wrong apart from we didn’t get along…….. and as children often do, admitting we’re perhaps more alike one parent than we care to admit…………… or wish to be true can be hard!
But if there’s any blame to be thrown around then please aim toward me.
Not to long ago I wrote a very honest post titled ‘I only have one real regret in my life’, please read if only to perhaps dwell for a second on loved ones in your own life. Remember I’m a good man who made a mistake after I unconsciously absentmindedly carelessly and knowingly forgot to visit my grandfather in his care home, the reason is little more than apathy and thoughtlessness, well I’m determined it’ll never happen again to someone I love.
My mum’s going dancing with her friends in Eastbourne sooon, she’s 70+ and yes goes out dancing once a week with her girlfriends…………. fabulous what a lady 🙂 .
Well I knew for a fact she’d been enquiring Social Services with a view to finding dad respite care (extreme forgetfulness, we fear he didn’t keep his mind alive and active in retirement), I wasn’t annoyed when I found out because that is mum all over, rather than offload problems onto family members she gets stuck in trying to solve a problem herself. She contacted Social Services unaware to me, was prepared to pay and hadn’t told the family. However no luck, healthcare is stretched to breaking point around here and well cutting a short story even shorter, unknown to me she’d been unsuccessful and cancelled her dancing holiday without telling anyone.
I’m not angry only disappointed, there’s been no grumbling no complaining from me, she told her friends she wasn’t going yet she needs the care break.
At the weekend we had a chat over Sunday lunch (my weekly treat), the whole family is aware my father is unable to look after himself SO the upshot to my tale is, I’m taking time off from work and moving back home for four days to look after him on my own. I’m not going to be chief carer under duress mind, there’s neither reluctance annoyance or intransigence, he’s my father he needs caring for okay yes we’ve never been close but there you no one’s to blame, that’s life!
As for my mother on WP, I’ve only ever written with affection fondness (and watchful)because I love her, without becoming sentimental and weepy mum has been my only real true friend as mothers always are, she’s completely selfless caring loving and remembering back to my youth I now see mum pushed me in the right direction and gifted my sibling and I the tools to go out and make something of our lives.
And here’s a thought, back in the 80s while a ‘fifth former’ at school a teacher handed out application forms on behalf of a local engineering Company, for apprenticeships in trades such as toolmakers pattern-makers mill-rights electricians foundry-men, well I took a form, read it and decided I didn’t want to be an engineer? Goodness knows why but apathy’s me all over, not grasping this was a life changing opportunity, not forgetting I hadn’t a frigging idea as to what I was going to do after leaving school!! Well I showed my father, said I didn’t wish to apply, he didn’t seem to mind either way so I hid the form in a bedroom chest of draws.
End to the matter so I thought.
Next thing I know, the form is laying open on the dining room table and my mum ‘encourages’ me to fill it out with her help, then I guess buys the stamp and posts it……… I didn’t apply under duress, no I hadn’t been intelligent to realise the possibilities an apprenticeship could bring, hiding the application was simple apathy.
(Incidentally the 2/7 cardinal vice I’m afflicted by, the 1/7 being lust…….. jeeze the tales I could tell!! I mean the ones I haven’t already!)
Well to cut a long story short the engineering company contacted me for an interview, I sat a rigorous skills examination and ultimately became 1 of 5 successful boys selected from 160 to be apprenticed for in the trade of ‘one of above’……….. yes at first apathy and thoughtlessness (hmm interesting ) but then I got my sh#t together and earned deserved the position.
And I’ll be forever grateful W. # and Co. Ltd. gave me that chance, I’ve never lost sight 155 boys were unsuccessful and perhaps………. no such is life. But just know I wasn’t the reluctant (trade), those four years training were the most enjoyable happiest days of my life, I was paid a modest wage met fantastic lads and taught a trade by 3 very wise knowing skilled trainers who weren’t adverse to giving justified also unjustified discipline. One trainer’s conduct verging on bullying (he did) but there you are, we now live in a mollycoddled society where everyone feels entitled to God knows how many Rights, and if they feel in the slightest bit underappreciated or hard done by the Firm/Company is in Court and they want compensation………….. my take is sh#t happens, life can be unfair, suck it up, learn and move on!
I’m digressing now into a rant.
Oh yes the apprenticeship. I’m neither artistic or academic but I enjoy making things, well lucky for me five days a week I was paid to…………… and loved it! I was an intelligent 16 year old, I kept my mouth shut used humour to deflect criticism, listened wasn’t cocky or loudmouthed, lol I’m no angel just know I worked hard, learnt the Machiavellian skills of a politician to gain favour and keep out of trouble, I was a clever cookie, and by the end of four years the Company employed me full time in the trade of……..…….. I adored the job.
Well in summing up I don’t need to remind you readers it was mum who searched and discovered that hidden application form, she stood over me and helped me fill it out, she bought the stamp and posted though to be fair it was my skills talent and tenacity that got me chosen from 155 other boys, lol give me credit for that much 😀 .
But now all these years later I’m wondering what would I have made of my life if I’d listened to my father and just thrown that form away? What dead end job could I be in now? So now that I’ve given you an insight into my very own parental dynamics, my father was a good loving caring and kind man, but in many ways I feel he let me down. Am I being unfair? (On dad perhaps probably yes?) The upshot I’ll move back home for four days, cook clean care for dad and I know this won’t be the last time……….. I’m not annoyed or angry no my mindset is a positive ‘let’s see how it goes’, I’ll take my laptop and probably read and walk the dog hmm on reflection I’ll enjoy those.
I’m not at work. It’s raining outside. So why not write a post?
On any given evening, by the time I’m ready to turn in for bed only one all consuming thought will be on my mind,perhaps I should re phrase, yes I’ll be brooding reflecting on several but only one shocking story will accompany me to sleep.
Brooding is the worst, preparing myself for the next days hassles I’ll face at ‘blank’, a ‘blank’ full of his own self importance, his personality traits verging on narcissistic, classic inflated ego traits with delusions of grandeur and a ridiculous misconception that he is attractive to women. Jeeze at age # and chasing after 18yr old Virginal students (🤔 questionable) is sad to the point of creepy we’ll watch open mouthed staggered with,
“Is he serious they suck up to you for one reason so as he’ll complete their…….” we say to ourselves,
Yes they’ll bring broken bikes into be fixed but little do they know he sniffs the saddles soon after they’ve gone, do women have any comprehension this goes on? Does the thought ever cross their mind that men will put a nose to their saddles hoping to smell intimate feminine odours?
I don’t! Never have! Never will!!!
I’m digressing but a fascinating case all the same.
At the end of the day several thoughts will be on my mind, problems I’ll face tomorrow, hassles I’ve encountered that day, family issues that have to be faced up to, my father’s health is a frigging nightmareand the overriding days disaster that’s hit a part of the globe.
If there’s only one certainty in life it’s that one single awful shocking catastrophe has occurred today! Or as in yesterday, being a section of Italian motorway and bridge disappearing taking 39 people’s lives along with it, the longer I live the more I’m convinced life is but a matter of luck and chance. One of the images of that disaster I’ll probably remember will be that stationary truck stopped but meters from the roads end, 2 seconds later and both lorry and driver would be underneath rubble coming to rest in a stream.
Luck and chance!
Jeeze the number of posts I’ve written in draft themed, life is a matter of how lucky we are to avoid something anything, and how a life s direction can change simply by chance, bump into a lady in the supermarket and 3 months later you could be standing alongside her dressed in white, you about to put a ring on her finger.
Luck and chance!
Thoughts of tomorrows problems, family issues, a world disaster will accompany to bed AND one quirky unusual darn right creepy story that’s been on my mind ever since I first heard this sorry tale as I did today.
The true story, is true because I trust the BBC never to publish fake news, a young Romanian woman’s account of the day she’d been snatched from the street, bundled into a car and driven to the north of England, locked in a suburban house for nine months and forced to prostitute her body for sex.
Yes she’d been seconds away from entering the front door of her house, the key inside the lock then hours later she was having to endure the hellish existence of men she didn’t want having sex with her. From the time she was captured to the day she’d been rescued this European citizen working in London had been in effect raped by 1000 men……… I guess ghoulishly compounded by the fact every penny had been taken by her captors, yes she’d been fed but their slave had been denied medical attention because she’d bled many times.
That human beings are enslaved in third world countries I’d read about, and accepted as drawback of living in an ‘uncivilized’ country, that a young woman is pulled off a busy London street and driven to a house for men’s depraved sexual pleasure was honestly shocking, one because Britain is a prosperous country with laws an excellent police force, two because well Britain is a moral and safe place to live.
Then I had the sudden realisation, a cold shudder down the spine moment, how many more young women are right now living in housing estates across Britain, being raped daily and worse still may never be lucky enough to escape or only when they’re no longer of use!
Hmm scary thoughts as I went to bed, if I had a daughter living alone in a far away British city I may at that very moment make a phone call check, enforce rules, warn and lay the law down………. well I haven’t but you get the idea, but is enslaving human beings a new phenonium in England?
Of course not 200 years ago in Victorian England brothel owners would visit stagecoach stations looking out for young naïve country farm girls, attracted to the bright lights of London hoping to work as chamber maids for nice decent city families. However I’ve read a very different tale of one notorious well-known London madam, an infamous criminal who would meet those coaches arriving from deepest rural England, who would trick the girls into coming home with promises of a safe bed for the night, yet little did they know the bedroom meant years of disease ridden sex work.
So what has all this to do me? Nothing only last night that shocking thought was sex slavery still goes on.
(I haven’t seen Christopher Robin as of yet, I’ve heard it’s very good so I’m 🙂 sure I will)
A home Town (may be mine) every year plays host to the World Poohsticks Championships, and yes I’m rather proud even if the event is just a bit of fun. 🙂 03/06/2018 to be exact.
Btw, The Championships are taken seriously and Money is raised for Charity! (The photo below was taken a few days in advance)
Below E. H. Shepard’s original drawing of Christopher Robin and Winnie The Pooh playing Poohsticks from Pooh Bridge, the photograph of the bridge is to be found on Langel common………. incidentally bridging the River Windrush!
And yes I realise this ISN’T the true Pooh Bridge from literature, but for some reason the ‘Rotary Club’ changed location……….. possibly something to do with car parking issues?…….. No matter the day is fun packed with live music and stalls so no one minds
Now reading the banner at the entrance to the common, lol see I’m not telling fibs 😀 my Town hosts it’s very own World Championships, and I should add walking beside Langel common’s long grasses brought on a sneezing fit………… my (blank) hay fever!
Confused? Then please read on.
(As an aside I met an old friend on the day with her young Granddaughter, even at 70yrs Rosemary’s still a good looking woman, her eyes ACTUALLY sparkled in the sunlight)
Wow to think my English rural Town stages a World Championships is quite something and better still the afternoon’s event has absolutely nothing to do with a Sport involving balls now that’s impressive! On the Sunday of which I speak children descended to the common coming from miles around to play a game first written about in in 1928 by author A. A. Milne, and that children are competing in a game taken straight from children’s literature is something to be truly celebrated……….. don’t you agree?
That the day’s fun has nothing to do with action superheroes, ‘nonsense’ names in AI video games or overpaid Sportspersons and their balls should be applauded.
Now as I said, aficionados will know the game of Poohsticks was originally played on a footbridge across in Posingford Wood, but not to worry, my Town is famous for holding a World Championships and I think that’s fabulous and pretty cool.
(OK lol it’s not quite the Olympics but I DO try hard on my Blog)
Now 🙂 do I really have to explain how the game of Poohsticks is played seeing as you are all writer’s on a blogging platform, remembering Winnie The Pooh and his little band of chums is a classic book written for children? Of course not, you’ve probably read yourself as a child, read it aloud to your children or grandchildren it’s a wonderful story that’s captured imaginations for decades (and many more)…………. hmm I may even read again one day, and why not?
Ok you’ve twisted my arm, I’m at a loose end this afternoon so why not write about Winnie The Pooh without plagiarising that damned Wikipedia! (I’m probably breaking umpteen copyrights showing these pictures but I make NO money from blogging!)
The actual story can be found in the book ‘The House on Pooh Corner’.
Winnie The Pooh Christopher Robin and his friends hang over the rail of one side of the bridge……….. safely I might add!! Each or them holds a stick importantly owned only to themselves, they each drop their stick at the very same time then rush to the opposite side of the bridge, hang over and note SAFELY if you’re ever going to try, then wait and watch until the sticks come into view.
Remember I said each with a stick recognisable to themselves, well the first stick that comes into view wins! And if you yourselves play for heavens sake take care and staySAFE!
Lol aren’t you a tiny bit envious of my Town 😀 seeing as you are all writers? Only joking but the tale is still pretty cool and do you know what, I’m going to throw a stick off the bridge one day on the way to work!!
You’ll no doubt be relieved to hear this isn’t a sex post, instead I’ve a more reflective post this evening.
Yes truthfully I’d like to share with my Blog that I do indeed have only one real regret in life, something I’m not terribly proud of, either way my mind returns to this thought more times than I care to admit…….. and bear in mind I’m not fishing for compliments, I did it and I have to live with myself all I would ask is you readers appreciate the advice.
I’m rather big with blog honesty.
My Grandfather came to a point in the latter years of his own life to sell his house and move into a residential old people’s home and I unconsciously made a choice. He wasn’t instructed to by children or advised to by social services, no he was a practical independent man in good health who came to a decision, a crossroads! One day out of the blue, he decided the day to day life of running a home and cooking for himself had all become a little tooo much, in fact he made the move himself along with children’s help importantly there was NO pressure!
Many thanks to a fellow blogger who’s shown me how important clearly defined categories are to a blog though I think my free theme is a little limited. But not to worry lovely WordPress give it to me for nothing thank you ❤ .
My blog is varied and eclectic content from cooking recipes, nature walks, thoughts, personal photographs and Erotic stories………… yes over the past 4 months I’ve ‘attempted’ to write erotic fiction.
Before I begin this post, I should like to say it’s written with the fair sex in mind (or anyone), and as always I’ve the utmost respect for all women, yet I don’t always understand them .
Lol I’m hoping any mommy’s I follow will be interested in this evening’s post, not so much a philosophical expose of the working’s of my inner mind AND please note I don’t feel I have to admit and share any perverted big dark secret from deep within my consciousness, yes I occasionally write my more adult posts but they’re just for fun.
Love! Yes when I’m discussing my own past partners and the choice is between some slim lithe 18 year old beauty OR a lady with a few miles on the clock I’ll choose the lady 48 years young EVERY single time. Older women have experience and I’m not talking bedroom gymnastics, nope you’ll never pull the wool over a mature lady’s eyes so to speak I think having children puts paid to that, not forgetting moms bs spotting radar is phenomenally fine tuned, accurate. I’ll have to mention at least something of sex, at a push I’d say best of all their tits are less firm and a little droopy the glorious consequence pendulous and squishy to play with in the hand, enough lol.
There’s a phrase in the English language which seemed very apt today, from experience I have to be careful the info I share here, just be aware today and yesterday I met many middle aged women chaperoning their 16 year old children around the ‘organisation’, and yes that apt well known British phrase called yummy mummy’s were everywhere………… I enjoyed today 😀 .
That’s enough silly sex talk Andrew!!! LOL 😀 .
And now to all the 50 year ladies I work with, they’re fascinating creatures who have a smouldering sexuality beneath their calm cool exterior a much used phrase but oh how true, and I can’t help imagining they’re perhaps horny and a little dirty in bed. Hmm I could be wrong but our secretary at work is lusted after by many a young and old man, she’s so efficient she keeps the older guys on their toes just like their wives do at home?………. And if she ever read this post I’d like to say Miss your cleavage and shoulder length bottled chestnut brown hair suits you down too a tee.
However before the middle aged mommy’s of which I speak go and unfollow and block my honest genuine and fun replies to their posts, fabulous tales of their daily lives I enjoy reading I’ll TRY and be a little more constructive from here on in!
So why do I Follow five or so Mommy blogs and note of teenagers NOT toddlers? The reason isn’t creepy and perhaps the mommy’s are curious when every other blog commenter has family’s in like minded situations. The reason is nothing more sinister than I enjoy reading stories of ‘juggling many metaphorical balls in the air’, keeping a balanced sense of humour, tales of stress and hassles of tumble driers that keep breaking down, or trying to bribe the children to dispose of empty bottles of wine in the drive. Then there was Joanna’s tale of a snake that slithered unnoticed in her kitchen, I actually laughed out loud at that one as she described the panic and her near incontinence.
So ladies there’s nothing more to be curious about or understand than I’m a single guy aged 50 without children, perhaps you didn’t wonder lol. I enjoy reading the way you juggle all the many demands on your life and time, and most of all how Claudette demonstrates a parenting skill my mother used to intrigue me with, namely her ability to mind read and foresee the answer to a life problem I hadn’t yet figured out I had!……………… I think that is universally referred to as a mother’s intuition.
That’s my reason for reading oh and not forgetting you are fabulously entertaining writers! Sex bloggers bore me but mommy’s never do 🙂 .
In scene’s reminiscent to the fire storms that engulphed the East End of London during the Blitz, tragically a huge fire has devastated one of Scotland’s most iconic landmarks the Glasgow School of Art’s Mackintosh Building. But fortunately no one was injured and I didn’t know until today that after the significant 2014 fire Brad Pitt had been one of the main contributors to its restoration.
A quote from today’s Spectator – ‘Particularly catastrophic is the reported destruction of the three-storied library on the west side of the building. This was Mackintosh’s crowning glory, a light, airy – but wood-heavy – space dominated by triple-tiered windows.’
Early this morning after 150 firemen and 15 engines finally brought the devastating blaze under control, the fear is the Great Hall and famous Library has been lost forever and ironically the building was undergoing a multi-million pound restoration after the last fire but for reasons which will un fold later, a fire took hold and I fear destroyed this iconic building.
Such a shame and a reminder however much I moan at work about Britain’s perceived ‘nanny-State’ Health and Safety fixation, fire Legislation exists to stop wonderful buildings such as these being burnt to the ground . 😦
Ironically two days ago Britain was marking the one year anniversary after the Grenfell Tower Block Tragedy, scenes so very reminiscent to Glasgow’s fire last night and I do hate days like these when awful events suddenly appear on the TV News whatever country has been hit by a disaster. They’re unexpected and shocking in equal measure and difficult for the human mind to process, so sadly the Library has been lost but at least there were no casualties this time.
Always remember (please try I know this can be difficult) I’m DEFINITLY NOT a sex blogger but I’m no different to every other adult walking this spinning planet, I experience funny urges you all do, so being as I’m an observational ‘writer’ and adults are sexual animals therefore life and love will time to time combine together in a post………….. so if you’re under 18 you’ll find NOT a jot of interest here…………….. incidentally if you’re over 18 you may not either………… but hopefully yes.
So if you’ve been following this Blog closely you’ll understand my favourite’s cowgirl, if you didn’t already realise there are 64 BECAUSE having followed my tales you’ll now know there are 64 so hopefully you should be asking yourself ‘how many have I tried with another human being male or female?’ Oh and be aware you can lose 250 calories missionary and I’ve yet ONE more nugget of adult information for you namely a ladies favourite clothes free fun and games activity is doggy!
I’d bet you didn’t know that or lol perhaps it’s fake news 😀
If you’re unaware, I’ve been near obsessed trying to figure how many I have been enjoying with a lady? Just the other day I was sat in my Doctor’s surgery note absolutely nothing to do with you know whats, and I found myself picking up a magazine from the waiting room coffee table THEN proceeding to jot down this numbered list of how many I’ve tried? I counted 7 but then I thought being sucked is a definite but is spanking a bottom whilst being sucked an on its own position? Or a variation of one theme? Still lol passes the time jotting any type of list whatever that may be, I only hope someone rather intrigued doesn’t ask me what I’m doing!
If at this point reading you’re none the wiser and haven’t an earthly as to what I’m hinting to? Then shame on you for not Following my blog btw I’m ONLY joking! And further still apparently, and read carefully, a ‘Lady of the Night’s’ favourite is yes you’ve guessed doggy, so if you enjoy being uhmm from behind then perhaps keep in mind you could work in the service industry, upmarket because all you reading right now I know are classy men and women!
Hmm after reading this insightful observation of female positional preference, taken from the internet incidentally, and yes after having taken her from the rear I got to wondering why so popular with 51% of the population? I guess crouched on the bed ‘all fours’ means you don’t have some great weight laying on top, not forgetting legs wide akimbo is a rather uncomfortable position to be ploughed into by some dribbling, gasping for air, over excited ‘person’?
But being serious for a second, again I guess because I actually don’t know the answer, I would imagine ladies can absently minded stare at the bed’s headboard without looking him in the face, especially if she had a headache and didn’t feel like it tonight, but she resigned herself to keeping partner content and happy so relented, but at least with doggy you could even read a book, plan next week’s food shop at the supermarket or ask yourself why are my in-laws such frigging hard work?
So yes why not go doggy, forearms pressed deep into the soft spongy quilt cover, allow him to at least touch you by only holding by the waist and MAKE him do all the work, whatever the reason it’s all very sedate, no effort and keeps hubby happy.
Apologies to any readers bored by my meandering adult observational musings, early evening thoughts!
What do you think the female Dutch public’s reaction was to their biking Policemen? Unprintable I guess. 😛
The second part (marked) is a response of sorts to my own peeing Policewoman tale and yes all very serious and depressing, hmm? Was it written this way simply because I woke up that morning morose miserable and lol in a bad move? I was going to scrub and write it again but no I’ll keep it and you choose, however I’ll also add some of today’s thoughts so call this part 1………. jeeze this is a frigging long post but what else you gonna do? Go back to bed and lol play with yourself? There’s a thought!
Today’s part 1
A lovely lady Blogger commented “………this ‘post’ makes me not wanna visit peaceful places……….” and omg I thought to myself ‘no NO we should never change the way we live and enjoy our lives just because once in a while bad things happen’. BUT I understand what she means.
Several years ago a schoolgirl was abducted from the Streets of my home City, in broad ‘early morning’ daylight, then driven to a place she couldn’t recall and subjected to a 4 hour gang rape.
A brazen horrendous crime, a news story that went viral right across the Globe and the public reaction in Oxford was equally as shocking. Street’s emptied of walking pedestrians, Schools instructed parents to drive their girls to School and NEVER let them walk alone and most shockingly of ALL recreation Parks of ‘swings and slides’ had near tumbleweed blowing through them. In the space of one day and for weeks after not a single soul would be seen playing in a Park, no joggers no picnicking mothers my Town was a Ghost Town.
Then life slowly began to get back to normal as life always does and if you remember hearing this Schoolgirl gang rape abduction story, then you may not have heard the girl lied, and yes you DID read that phrase correctly, perhaps she was disturbed or an attention seeker? It turns out several months later she made the whole sorry story up, a complete and utter tissue of lies jeeze the trouble she caused, in fact Thames Valley Police even Tweeted a stark message on their Twitter Feed……..
‘That abduction never happened!’
I already new this because I have a source lol long story! (A mate at work who know a ‘Copper’ 😀 ) But I think my tale proves we should never ever change the way we live our lives, just perhaps take extra care and assess possible risks and eventualities? ……….. So if you want to visit a common GO! It’s a great place to have a family picnic and if you’re really really lucky you may spot a policewoman ‘skirt up knickers down pussy out and peeing’, BUT don’t worry you’ll never see the like of her again! 😦
Part 2. Yesterday’s rather depressingly written serious additional thoughts of sexual crime and punishment.
I hope you got to read Sunday’s post if not click ‘here’ 🙂 and let me first say I know the three tales perhaps don’t sit happily together however they are interlinked, except yes I’d agree an amusing peeing Policewoman tale and a serious sexual assault probably don’t, but being honest I’m ok with the post.
When I first began my WordPress I had only two rules in mind, 1 there’ll be no talk of Religion, 2 it’ll be a Politics free zone, not because I’m someone who sticks their head in the proverbial sand, no because I don’t want to ‘write’ about Muslim fundamentalism and how BREXIT is damaging my Country…………. I guess that’s why my posts are hopefully a fun read and note always honest, but then again lol I reserve the right to talk about Politics Religion or discuss Sex Crime if I wish to. (I don’t!)
So again keeping yesterday’s post in mind, if you really feel like reading that news story, I’m providing the link to my local newspaper ‘here’ and the assault of a woman crossing my local common for no other reason than you maybe interested? But one word of warning, the article is troubling reading because as I explained before, the rapist was bailed to attend Court for raping another woman however two Police Force Regions didn’t share evidence, consequently he carried out this second horrific assault when he SHOULD have been in Prison? I know an awful mistake!…………… Anyways the link is above if you’d like to read.
That an assault happened in a sleepy English rural Town set in rolling Countryside is a stark reminder serious crime ‘can happen to anyone anywhere anytime’, and not just for females I’m more careful about my personal safety than I have been in my life before. Don’t you ever assume the UK is a low crime society, perhaps Downton Abbey and all the other sickly sweet period dramas have you believe Britain is an idyllic land of Countryside rustic villages and only white people! No we’re multicultural therefore the Far Right white are pitted against Muslim fundamentalism, and as for crime levels, jeeze in all my years living here I’ve never known crime levels so high, street robbery and violence are all to regular news events.
(Blah blah blah………. 😀 lol )
But life has to go on, so consequently wherever I go these days I’m aware of my surroundings more than ever. I’ll keep a firm grip of my wallet when in public places, I try to be always within a group of pedestrians and ALWAYS keep half an eye out for young men on scooters, they may either ride up and steal your mobile phone or if you’re in London throw a bottle of Sulphuric Acid in your face! Perhaps I exaggerate but these days you have to be aware.
🙂 Now even if I say it myself that’s a friggin awesome post title! Lol I’ve truly surpassed myself but yikes now I have to write the post…………….. f#ck it’ll never live up to that hype but oh well I’ll tell my true tale.
(A brief Intermission similar to those they used to have at my local cinema when I was a child, Saturday afternoon’s the matinee would stop then ‘old stumpy’ would walk round selling cartons of ice cream and shout at kids to stop throwing sweets at him! Just to explain I’m telling the near indecent exposure tale one hundred percent true and, because I’m ALWAYS honest, I’ll admit her knickers could be an exaggeration but till this day I’m utterly convinced I saw them!)
A few years ago now, but I’m living at this same address so we’re talking quite recently, dead on 6.07 am on a weekday morning I pulled my front door shut, and why such a precise time you may well ask? Well I catch the bus to work 6.25 and it takes me exactly 15 minutes to reach the stop.
My walk to work is an absolutely stunning one though at times can be a little nerve-wrecking but I’ll get onto that in a moment just hold that thought. My 13 minute walk is quiet peaceful and a changed landscape everyday of the year yet I take exactly the same route? The beginning couple of minutes are breath-taking strolling beneath canopies of overhanging trees, leafy in summer cold and bleak in winter, and stunning in the snow. Then I walk alongside the wall of an ancient Manor House, turn left at the Dovecot, pass by an ancient Church then cross open common land with it’s 2 bridges over the river Windrush with woods and trees either side.
I’m unbelievably lucky, some early mornings I’ll watch ducks geese and swans as I cross the rivers, a heron if I’m lucky, and circling over the open fields I’ll quite often see Barn owls swooping down for food and best of all I’m often the only person walking across the common. There’s never another soul in the dark winters and only the odd female jogger her tight ass squeezed into body hugging Lycra in the summer…………. if she’s bouncing boobs then all is right in my world!
However my early morning gorgeous walk can be unnerving in the winter, it’s dark but for a few pavement lights, pitch black in some parts and frigging scary some days especially if my imagination is alive and I’m feeling jumpy. Why so? You may have guessed already, the common is a magnet for men who have sexual propensity to run up to females and expose their genitals, ‘flashers’ I KNOW frigging sick or what, WTF why do it for f#cks sake?
A tragic tale for you, two years ago and on the same day I crossed that open common, I arrive at work switch on my computer to catch the local news only to read a young woman was attacked @3.00am before I’d walked past that same wooded area, it’s always dark because of the closely planted trees.
I know I’m getting off topic, sort of! But it turns out this particular early morning a man dragged the woman from the pavement, into the undergrowth, assaulted her breaking bones in her back then he raped the unfortunate woman. However by breaktime that same morning the case was solved, it turns out minutes after the Police arriving at the crime scene they went directly to a particular known address close by and arrested a convicted rapist who was out on remand soon to appear in Court for the rape of another woman………….. it was written there in black and white, the rapist was allowed out of prison ready to attend Court where he’d be found guilty for whatever and sent back to prison! But he assaulted in the meantime and sentenced life/9 years minimum.
Unbe-f#cking-lievable, you just cannot make this incompetence up!
Anyways returning to my story of walking to work one particular evening and now you understand why I’m both elated by the scenery and nature and nervous that I’ll get beaten up or robbed blind. Several years prior to the serious assault our local Police, in I guess a gesture to calm public safety fears over the number of exposures taking place and because several hours later around 9.30am children walk across the common to get to school, a visible Police presence was increased from zero to quite a few and I’m not being sarcastic there’s only so many Policepersons and FAR too many crimes taking place.
I’ll get to the end of this frigging true tale if it takes all evening lol! So I’m often nervous, the only member of public out and about this early hour, now if you look at my photo below this is virtually the exact spot where I was startled. Suddenly aware of movement and rustling between the bushes and because I’m a fast walker I strode past the noise and commotion half expecting to see a cat or the grey squirrel my mum’s dog chases HOWEVER what do I see but a uniformed attractive Policewoman squatting on the ground her skirt pulled up over her knees halfway up her thighs, knickers down around her ankles (side on so I didn’t see her actually doing ‘it’ or she’d finished) well all I can add is she was as startled as me, our gazes and eyes briefly caught each others, both no doubt WTF? I hurriedly kept walking and just understand there was an awful lot of commotion from those bushes as said Policewoman adjusted her dress! I will be absolutely bluntly honest, the image of her squatting half naked is still kinda sexy!
I realise now the juxtaposition of a story about a rape and a peeing policewoman don’t perhaps sit happily? Hmm, I’ll leave it, they happened but feel free to comment.
(I remember later smiling to myself thinking ‘I’d hope she saw the funny side afterwards’, out hunting for flashers but no instead she flashed a pedestrian. 🙂 )
It’s a strange old world, day after day month after month I take that exact same route through beautiful countryside, passing various wildlife and then one day what do I see but a peeing Policewoman! BUT being deadly serious for a second and please don’t think me flippant, on another day a young woman takes that exact route and is raped! Jeeze we have to take care these days, there’s far too many assaults robberies and knife crime in my Town!
My morning route to work, the common and lane with bushes. (My old photos but I doubt you mind. 🙂 )
Btw this ISN’T a blog discussing and sharing blog tips, I once read what is I think very good advice ‘that there is little more boring than reading a blog about blogging’ and as Julia once replied to me………… ‘we all wing it here’ and so true.
Having said all of that, if you read my previous post (blatant unashamed advertising lol) you may be curious how the said lady blogger reacted? Did she perhaps consider herself a little offended? Perhaps you’re not curious at all but I’m going to tell you the answer anyway.
Seriously though, being over familiar with my writing or annoying someone here would have been awful. 😦
My previous post was/is a response to a lady I follow, you can read Relationship Advice linked ‘here’ and yes a little cringeworthy rereading however it was written with the best of intentions because her post touched my heart. Well to say next day after publishing I was a little worried, jeeze I thought to myself ‘you’ve gone tooo far this time!’ However not to worry she wasn’t offended adding reading had made her laugh and as you may well imagine making someone smile, being a fun read is lovely to know.
Now to my favourite tune, we all turn to YouTube to listen to music videos performed by the artists we love and luckily for us WordPress ‘writers’ we have a resource. Btw take note if you didn’t already know YouTube allow sharing as I didn’t for quite a while. Fortunately if a favourite tune exits on YouTube you can copy and paste a link to one of your draft posts and as if by magic 😮 said video appears just as below……………….. truly amazing.
I’m very much a 1980’s music lover, a little untrue because I’ll listen to any tune originating from any era whatever the genre as long as I like it, however every so often I’ll hear a song that blows me away or for whatever strange reason touches something in my soul? Each and everyone of us has favourite songs, not necessarily because they speak to us emotionally or are special for a poignant reason, no we all have favourite songs because well, they just are!
I hadn’t heard of Gwen Stefani or No Doubt that’s until one Thursday Evening many years ago on BBC’s weekly music show ‘Top of the Pops’. I’d guess the opening seconds of chomping maggots buzzing flies Adam picking that apple in the Garden of Eden captured my imagination, btw an introduction often cut from radio show broadcasts which is quite wrong!
Where was I? Oh yes I clearly remember the beginning with wasps and insects followed by the most incredible tune and performance sung by a very beautiful blonde young woman and yes it very nearly blew me away. Is there any point to me trying to put into words how and why I love the song? Most definitely NO, watch the video and you either understand what I’m saying or lol either you don’t.
Early evening thoughts and musings, I’m quite frankly amazed no photos exist of my mum carrying myself or my sibling, then again in the days before digital cameras people just didn’t take photos!!
I do believe I have a soft spot for heavily pregnant women, seeing a woman with child is guaranteed to make me smile and gladden my heart, and I’m afraid I cannot help staring, my gaze is almost magnetically drawn to her bump especially if rather large (36 weeks) I just cannot help myself looking! Perhaps my incredulous gaze lasts tooo long? If it does that’s only because visualising a living human being inside a woman is difficult to get my mind around, very thought provoking indeed!
A short story, walking across the common the other day, I could see in the distance a heavily pregnant naturally slim woman coming toward be and before I truly realised what I was doing I found my eyes drawn to looking at her bump more in fascination than anything remotely creepy, God only knows what she thought of me but perhaps she experiences smiles and rather bemused slightly shocked facial reactions throughout her whole day? If so then that must be lovely. (Not forgetting I thought to myself ‘her back must be killing her!!!’)
The only trouble is, as with the lady I bumped into, without fail I always feel the urge to say “madam you look absolutely beautiful carrying your baby”, it’s on the tip of my tongue but of course these days you cannot go around paying compliments to women you do not know! But perhaps you can? I don’t know, perhaps if one’s smile is genuine, and the compliment made comes from a good and genuine place, then perhaps paying a compliment is socially acceptable. Then again would she mistrust my motives or think admiring her pregnancy rather tooo intimate especially coming from a single guy? Either way I’ll remember her imagine across my mind for hours on end, days even, conceptually a woman bearing a child is a miracle you don’t see everyday……… unless you’re a paediatrician.
(Btw that’s absolutely true, I’ll be able to picture the image of the lady and her prominent ‘bump’ for days after. Quite beautiful.)
But of course I never compliment her, I smile, perhaps catch her eye with mine, you know that ever-so brief connection we’ll make with another human being when we’re not isolated inside the bubble that is our own little world………………. early evening thoughts. 🙂
(Fifteen minute intermission whilst I enjoyed a hot shower, the ONLY place to think btw!)
Ok I agree telling a woman you don’t know from Eve that she looks stunning is farrr tooo intimate, lol one doesn’t but I’d be interested to know if staring at her bump and smiling is acceptable?
I very much doubt BBC Journalist Alexandra Vanotti would mind me sharing her photo on this Post, she didn’t mention Copyright in her ‘post natal depression article’ and it is a lovely picture. 🙂
By A. Shepherdson 2018 (with borrowed photos from Google and Alexandra Vanotti)