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Welcome to my blog. Brb... I'm making memories (read as: Wine. I'm going to get some wine...)

You're terrible Muriel...

So I rubbed my hands together gleefully when Dalekins informed me that he would be going to a friend’s bachelor party and would be away all of Saturday only to return on Sunday.  Not because I don’t like spending time with him, not at all… that will come when we have been married for 40 years and the sound of him chewing his food makes me want to blat him on the back of his head with a roast leg of lamb (which you then eat to get rid of the evidence *licks fingers* nyom nyom – Just FYI.  No I have not put much thought into this!) where was I…?

Ah yes the idea of some “me” time.

So I had it all planned.  I would go to my book club Christmas breakfast on Saturday morning where I would consume a large amount of champagne, go home, do the scene out of Risky business, you know the whole slide around the house in your socks, shirt and sunglasses thing… only, my house only has tiles in the kitchen and bathroom *narfy face* so it wouldn’t be hectic sliding around or I fear I may break my stoopid head when my socks hit the carpet traction and propel me arse about face!  Maybe just a short trot around the lounge… I don’t care dammit either way I’ll be running around in me knickers cackling like Rumplestilskin doing whatever the hey I want to!

So I did just that.  Had an awesome breakfast then stopped at Woolies and picked up some supplies!

1 X Biltong sticks

1 X Salt & vinegar Onion Rings (Because they’re fuck off awesome!)

1 X wine gums (JUMBO)  – They’re fat free stop judging me!!!

1 X Macaroni Cheese

1 x Bottle of Rose (Not the flower, the wine… I don’t know how to do that little thingy above the “e” ok!)

Got home, cracked open all my snacks and wine and was pleasantly pickled out of my tree watching Muriels Wedding… bliss.

You’re terrible Muriel! *hums Abba*

I eventually wobbled off to go to sleep and starfished across the entire bed, because I freaking cannnnnnn, I had it all to myself afterall.  Until about 2am, when I heard Dales key in the door and him come sneaking in…

Erm… what I asked happened to “sleeping over”..??

He then promptly ruined my Rose buzz by projectile vomeying all over the bathroom (onions I think) and then getting into bed and snoring!

“What the feck…?”


*pokes him hard in the ribs*

Me: “Dale… please blow your nose, you’re snoring or I am going to wollop you so hard in the goolies you’re going to have midget children…!”

Dalekins: “I didn’t do it officer… the sheep told me she was 18!”

Me: “Whaaaa? DALLLLLLLLLLLLLE blow your fucking nose please you’re snoring!”

Dalekins: “Huh… where?”

Me: *throws a box of tissues at his head*

Dalekins: *snoooooooooooooooooorrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrre*

Me: *jumps out of bed dramatically* “FINE you selfish!!! I’ll go sleep in the lounge then shall I, if that’s what you want!!!” *hits him on his head with a pillow*

*fists on hips tapping foot waiting for Dalekins to jump up and blow his nose and stop snoring because of  my threat  and maybe giving me a good night massage to say sorry*

Dalekins: “Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz…………..”


So I throw my pillows on the couch where I did a swat mozzies, pull blanket over me, get hot, swat mozzies, kick blanket off, swear at Dale, swat mozzies, scratch bastard mozzie bite, get hot, get cold until the next morning where I wake up to Dalekins rubbing my arm softly …

Dalekins: “Tashhhhhh” *whispers* “what you sleeping out here for you eeeejit??” *genuine concern on his face*


Anyone for some lamb…?

Christmas HELL

Christmas HELL