Bike Hike Babe keeps me unstintingly – and not only with her comments – in laughter thus, no doubt, prolonging my life by more than an hour.
This morning, and call me simple if you must, I was in stitches when receiving BHB’s mail of how to administer a pill to a cat. Only those of us who have been there will recognize what she is talking about. Snide remark – as befits me as the bitch on the blog: No wonder Grannymar has no time for cats, or me come to think of it. Wish I were a dog. In fact Grannymar will, as of now, be known to the world as GMM. An acronym for “GrannyMar Marred”. The tragedy being that the damage is, apparently, beyond repair. Amendment an hour later or so: GMM is rubbish. I prefer GMOABF (Grannymar on a BLOWN fuse).
Don’t worry, Conrad, I will come up with your own claim to fame. Trouble is it’s harder than I realised to bitch. Still, I accepted the job. Looking forward to seeing you at the water cooler. Don’t send your mother instead. Maybe mighty Mayo is willing to give you much needed assistance.
Wait: How about COASF – Conrad On A Short Fuse?
U
Bitch on the Blog 
You don’t have to live up to Bitch on the Blog all the time; and you don’t.
I took some social classes & I learned that in order to like someone, it helps to think of your similarities.
About Grannymar. You both had one child, and no husband at home. You both are funny, but I’ll admit, in very different ways. You both talk funny. In American that means that you have weird accents, you being from England & she, from Ireland. See there, another similarity. You are neighbors, whereas I live on the other side of the world. (I’ll have to look at a globe to verify that.)
it’s hard not to like Conrad when you see that smiling mug of his by his comments. You even like him (later) after he emails you telling you not to muddy up his blog with your comment when he doesn’t agree with you. He’s still a cute teddybear type.
All in all very big thumbs up to your blog!
Comment by Gail — May 14, 2010 @ 15:42 |
Dear Gail, welcome aboard my raft. Choppy waters will be encountered. However, there are no rats around and you are invited to eat at the Captain’s table.
Don’t tell GMOABF that she and I have anything in common. She wouldn’t like it. The chasm between her and me is that Grannymar will sit on the oistrich egg of her being indignant; and overcook it. Some people are like that. I am not – I am incabable of holding a grudge. Why would I otherwise send her the odd ‘nice’ comment only to be promptly deleted? Let’s not forget: As much as she might have felt offended by me she fired some canons in my direction – and never once made one reconciliatory noise. Considering Ramana’s current huffings on various political conflicts one might ask what hope there is for the world if GM and her needles can’t make their peace with me? None. That’s what.
I am sorely tempted to say things which I won’t because I shouldn’t. Funny thing is that I actually like Grannymar in that Grannymar way of hers. If we were door to door neighbours we’d probably get on quite well, having cups of tea at each other’s houses once a month, admiring the garden, needling each other every so often in that sort of underhand friendly way. Fact is that GMOABF does not like ME (and she hasn’t even met me yet). And just as she recently commented that she’d chuck out any husband of hers found wanting, she is clearly a woman of stern principle: Once you’ve blown it with her you’ve blown it. Figuratively speaking: I might bang doors but I always keep them open. That doesn’t make me better than her but – going back to Ramana’s ramblings – I’d make a far better peace keeper in the East than GM. She just barricades. And I never give up – it’s a character trait of mine which, occasionally, drives me to my own despair.
As to Con: I wouldn’t call him a teddybear but I was quite smitten with him (not in the way Lady C needs to worry about). Yet what a disappointment he has turned out to be. Not least his prose getting a little convoluted at some point (though his recent trip seemed to have lightened the load). I could have lived with that. After all, no one is perfect. Wish Con, GM and cavalry would remember that.
Gail, first law of seafaring: Don’t stand up or the boat might rock,
and if you do feel sick find out where the wind is coming from before throwing up. It saves a lot of hassle later.
Yours,
U
Comment by Ursula — May 15, 2010 @ 03:20 |
I thought of you today when I saw a Barsotti cartoon. The big dog was saying to the little one, “Yes, most strangers are nice. We bark at them anyway.”
What do you do for fun when you’re not barking at people? 🙂
Comment by Cheerful Monk — May 14, 2010 @ 23:33 |
Jean, it’s nice to be thought of. Even if in a cartoonish dog way.
What do I do for fun when “not barking at people”? I wish I could wittily confess that I bite. But I don’t. Instead I snarl. In a sort of ‘entente cordiale” way I then dig up my best bone, lay it at the feet of the snarled at in hope of reprieve, before chasing off to find another juicy bone to bury for future use.
U
Comment by Ursula — May 15, 2010 @ 03:57 |
Hey, if you can’t think of anything good to say about Grannymar, why mention her at all? Especially when she’s not around to defend herself. And why should she have to bother anyway?
Comment by Nick — May 15, 2010 @ 07:27 |