Bitch on the Blog

January 29, 2012


Filed under: Despair — bitchontheblog @ 19:05
Tags: , , , , , , , , , ,

As the casting director of my life’s drama, this minute I am lying prostrate on my own couch. Sweethearts, loosen my corset, pass me some smelling salts, and a script.

In the wake of rich Nick pickings, and truly generous replies from the rest of you on my beef with censorship,  my fields are now lying bracken. Maybe Captain Tom could get his Wuenschelrute out and find me a fecund source of oil. As an aside: That’s the trouble with script writing: One moment you dream of riding on a hand granade, the next, with a mind of its own, the dialogue becomes all slippery. Was it Eddie Fisher who let his hand hang out of a gondola only to find himself that which Venice’s waterways were full of?

I rarely visit my blog’s dashboard since I don’t need statistics to sustain my happyness. However, whilst contemplating how best to deal with mounting back blog, I idled over there and what do I find under today’s four Top Searches: “Men with heaving bollocks”. No bull. Am resolved that, from now on, I will venture over to dashboard at short intervals. It’ll stop me mid stream, if not mid scream.

Whilst my inner Drama Queen is trying to regain some sort of exposure to the natural world, I have gone all Bambi when he first meets Feline. Bashful. My tongue is tied. Why not write my acceptance speech, as to your  “praise” heaped on me, first? Rough draft.

Ignoring the trophe handed to me I shall thank my mother for not having aborted me. I will thank Phil and consorts for many things as yet to be detailed, and now Angola lusts after me. The Goth giving me a leg up. My reputation upheld, my wit shot to bits, caustic and all other acid supplies running low, my well in need of refilling, my status as head of mind nunnery in jeopardy.

In Magnus Magnussum’s spirit I have started, not that that”ll finish me. Where there is fire there will be ashes to rise out of.

Talking of which, and to give the star of this week’s show first billing, never trust a man who will not only drop commentators but litter. I am outraged. Pet hate, John Gray? Make that my Hound of Baskerville:

Nick, I ask you: You, the always upright citizen, dropping litter because there are NO recepticles about and you can’t be arsed to take your garbage back home? Let me ask you a question: Who, the fuck, do you think is going to clear up after you? And if you are going to tell me that that is what you pay council tax for I’ll never talk to you again. Come on. I dare you.




  1. you are a one Ursula!

    Comment by john — January 29, 2012 @ 19:42 | Reply

    • Oh yes she is a one!

      Comment by magpie11 — January 30, 2012 @ 21:41 | Reply

  2. U, if you’re going to attack Nick for giving an honest answer that he has indeed littered (living near two schools where there’s litter anyway) then we need to read about what YOU did that wasn’t so upstanding.

    Comment by bikehikebabe — January 29, 2012 @ 19:44 | Reply

    • I didn’t attack Nick “for giving an honest answer”. I criticized his littering. Fine difference.

      Forgive me for laughing at your logic: “… where there’s litter anyway.” Precisely. Why not add a bit more? Near two schools? Excellent. Set kids an example as you mean them to go on. Later complain about “today’s youth”.

      I am sorry, Bike Hike Babe, but you have rather missed the point of my post. Which was not about Nick. And may I say, by your reaction, I guess you are not averse to a little litter dropping yourself.

      If it makes you happy I will dedicate a whole post on my sins. Not that I think failings can be traded like horses.


      Comment by bitchontheblog — January 30, 2012 @ 04:37 | Reply

  3. Why aren’t you responding to these comments? I know. You are busy writing another post so You move on and hope We forget.

    Comment by gailredhair — January 30, 2012 @ 00:08 | Reply

    • Forget what?


      Comment by bitchontheblog — January 30, 2012 @ 04:38 | Reply

      • Forget that you won’t respond to “what you did that wasn’t so upstanding.” Forget that you attack people.

        Comment by gailredhair — January 30, 2012 @ 15:27 | Reply

        • Um..who is gailrehair?

          Comment by magpie11 — January 30, 2012 @ 22:01 | Reply

          • Sorry…redhair!

            Comment by magpie11 — January 30, 2012 @ 22:03 | Reply

            • Who is gailredhair? Bike Hike Babe’s rather ill tempered and impatient baby sister.

              The one who made Bike Hike Babe aka Cynthia publish, over at Nick’s, the following:

              “Nick, I’m using your blog to post my comment which Ursula blocked (censored) in her Bitch on the Blog.

              Since you asked, I never litter. I pick up because I was trained. Starting in the 40s Mother had us pick up litter in parks when we did trips out west (western USA) when the word “litter” hadn’t been invented.

              The point of your posts, especially in past years, is to attack people & tell how you hate them. You may tear me apart now. And I don’t believe you will tell “your sins”. I won’t be reading anymore in any case. My loss. You’re smart, well educated, write very creatively.

              I see you have deleted my Gravatar & given me a brown no-face stamp.

              Now I see that this comment was deleted, censored. And you just wrote the world’s longest post about Censorship which you say you don’t do. I read bikehikebabe has “an invalid email address”. Bull


              To which Nick replied

              “BHB – I’m not willing to be a go-between in your argument with Ursula. Please either sort it out with Ursula or keep away from her blog. And please remove the above comment.

              I appreciate that you’re trying to sidestep what you see as censorship, but this isn’t the right place to do it.”

              The very same text Bike Hike Babe sent as an email to all and sundry (namely my “fan club”).

              Bike Hike Babe, I have no idea what you are talking about. Hate, sins, take you apart, brown no-face stamp gravatar? You’ve lost me. I know I shouldn’t be laughing this minute but I am: Even if I were so inclined I wouldn’t know how, neither do I have the time or interest, to tamper with anyone’s gravatar. As far as I can see you show up as normal.

              Cynthia, you should know by now that I am not a hypocrite. I never received that comment of yours. Why didn’t you contact me first? Instead of going “public” pointing the finger once more at big bad Ursula, the Bitch on the Blog, assuming I had “censored” your comment? I don’t take kindly to people who don’t give me the benefit of the doubt, who don’t trust me. Neither do I think it right that you draw Nick into this by using his blog to malign me.

              What’s your purpose, Cynthia?

              You say I “attack” people. What constitutes ‘attack’ is open to each individual’s interpretation. You say I “hate” people. I don’t hate anyone. I love a few people, I like a lot of people, I am indifferent to many, I don’t know how many I dislike since our paths rarely cross.

              Cynthia, our friendship ends here. By all means finish what you started by commenting on this. After that you are not welcome any longer. And no, I won’t block you. I said: You are not welcome any longer. I expect my friends and my critics to trust me, as I trust them. You don’t trust me. So let’s leave it there.


              Comment by bitchontheblog — January 31, 2012 @ 04:14 | Reply

              • Ah! Je comprend.

                Comment by magpie11 — January 31, 2012 @ 16:28 | Reply

  4. Having admitted that I sometimes drop litter, there seems to be an assumption that I drop litter every five minutes. In fact I probably drop litter about once every six months when I can’t find anywhere to dump it and it’s too messy to carry about with me. Every day on the other hand I’m picking up other people’s litter from outside my house, my front garden and my back garden. Mostly, as I have said, sweet and chocolate wrappers thrown by undisciplined children.

    Incidentally, it surprises me to find some people are more indignant about litter than things like drink-driving or doctoring a CV.

    Comment by nick — January 30, 2012 @ 14:42 | Reply

    • Nick, your ‘surprise’ poses an interesting question in terms of moral ethics. Alas, whilst I “know” the answer intuitively I find it hard to translate that feeling or instinct into words. Please do bear with me. I won’t ‘forget’.


      Comment by bitchontheblog — January 31, 2012 @ 08:17 | Reply

  5. Glad you wandered over to your stats page. It’s not there for your eyes only. It has entertainment value and I’m confident you have a generous enough spirit to share the rubbish you find there–recycle, reuse. Hip hip hurrah! 😉

    Comment by Lorna's Voice — January 30, 2012 @ 21:02 | Reply

    • Thank you, Lorna. Whilst generous, and not just of spirit, I have had enough of rubbish. I am talking REAL rubbish. Don’t ask. “From torn bin liners to a stable container – how to enrich your life’s enjoyment in painful baby steps”. Copyrighted.


      Comment by bitchontheblog — January 31, 2012 @ 08:31 | Reply

  6. Oh my goodness…… Luvs, I too cannot stand litter or littering. Mind you the odd banana skin might be deposited in a hedge after a visit to the legalised vampire for my starvation blood test. I feel a post coming on.

    Oh yes…whilst I’m about it: I found all of &pence today (a nice and shiny 5 pence piece and about 35 cams away a rather dull 2 pence piece). I’ve put it in an envelope with the map reference of where I found it and will take it to the police station tomorrow….. I did that once with a £50-00 note and months later was told to collect it as it remained unclaimed.

    Comment by magpie11 — January 30, 2012 @ 21:49 | Reply

    • Magpie, what a good person you are. £50.00? Not surprised that no one claimed it. Whoever lost it either hadn’t noticed (it happens) or thought to himself that no one would hand it in.The few times I’ve lost items (say, my handbag with my wallet, passport, my whole life inside – 18 months ago) and you contact the lost property office they will ask you to describe the item before you can reclaim it. Just to make sure you are the rightful owner. How do you describe a 50 pound note?

      Then, same period, once more being preoccupied with how best to handle my life, having gone to the cash point to draw out £50.00 (!), I took my card and, merrily, went off – minus the cash. And what do you know? Someone ran after me, dosh in hand. Since they were my last £50 I could have kissed her.

      Oddly enough, and it really is odd, I find quite a lot of money. One memorable occasion, Christchurch, Dorset, carpark next to the Priory, putting coins into the meter when there was that ten pound note lying at my feet. I looked around to see if anyone had just parked up. The place was empty. Just cars. No people.

      There is a saying where I come from that if you don’t honour the penny you are not worth the pound. I am so happy when I come across a penny. Not just because I found a penny, but because that poor dropped penny has found a new home. Is appreciated. The day I won’t bend down to pick up that token of luck will be the day I either have a crashing back ache (I never have one) or be old and, by definition, too stiff. It’ll be the moment I cry. Unless of course I go blind beforehand and won’t even see the penny. Stop me now, Magpie, or I’ll paint so many scenarios over lost pennies I’ll make everyone cry.

      Which reminds me: Do you know Beethoven’s “Wut ueber den verlorenen Groschen” Rage over a lost penny? It’s short. And very short tempered too. But then in those days a penny was a lot of money. Or maybe Beethoven was a perfectionist. And perfectionists, even if they don’t give a hoot over a penny, don’t like to be shown up as less than perfect.

      I don’t believe in divine justice as such. However, as to money, I take the mellow road: We lose some, we find some. Whenever I lose some I dearly hope that it makes another person’s day.


      Comment by bitchontheblog — January 31, 2012 @ 05:06 | Reply

      • Crumbs…my typing is treliber! & pence?35 cams away?

        I’m afraid that if I do know the Beethoven piece to which you refer I wouldn’t know that I know because I have no German.
        I suppose the equivalent English saying to yours about honouring the penny would be: Take care of the pence and the pounds will take care of themselves.
        Some people, on picking up a coin kiss it before putting it in their pocket so that it will attract more and then we have the superstition about money in your pocket and viewing the new moon.

        Oh yes describing a £50 note? I suppose that you have to write down the number or memorise it.

        Youngest Magpie fledgling’s girlfriend (of German descent) has a cheque for five pounds from the Bank of England. Something to do with sending them part of a fiver and claiming it . Mind you Nat West have sent her a cheque for 53 pence on the closure of her account.

        I had a similar experience at a hole in the wall involving £200 not so long ago. I walked away and suddenly remembered the money, turned and bumped into a very pleasant young woman waving said cash in my direction. Terrible confusion and blushes all round. If only I was younger.

        I understand that British silver coins of my birth year are the last ones to contain the real thing…a good year that. Since then most things have gone down hill. Chuckle!

        You must have heard my story about the five shillings and the shopping list.

        Comment by magpie11 — January 31, 2012 @ 16:52 | Reply

        • No I haven’t heard (or at least can’t remember) your story about the five shillings and the shopping list. Pray, tell.

          Not that I can’t TELL where your story is going. Childhood trauma. My first mission entrusted with a coin to get some last minute item from the village’s grocers. Naturally I dropped the coin (high value) in snow almost as high as my good little self. Tears before supper? If you want to lose something (including yourself) go where there is snow. The white blanket will blank – alas not memories.


          Comment by Ursula — February 1, 2012 @ 11:44 | Reply

  7. A wickedly added posting bitchontheblog
    and we Goths are very good at it, I mean
    that, I mean… oh you know what I mean?
    Giving a leg up too…

    Have a great Tuesday now…

    Androgoth XXx

    Comment by Androgoth — January 31, 2012 @ 10:54 | Reply

  8. Oh my! Another hornets nest I seem to have stumbled upon.

    As to the original post, I have to give credit to our host for forcing me to use both a dictionary to ensure I totally understood all words as written, and a nice visit to the Google translator to boot. Ursula, you have a way with tags in addition to whatever points you always wish to make in the body of your text. Sticking to the topic at hand, dishonesty is a vague and loosely defined term. Sure we can find stellar examples of egregious breaches of honesty – those are the ones that easy to roil with rage and self-righteous indignation. The problem doesn’t lie there, but in the vast gradient in the spectrum that lies between complete and total honesty and complete and total dishonesty. We are taught from the youngest ages to temper our thoughts and actions in the interest of civil behavior. Look to the child to see an example of unbridled honesty – “Grandpa has bad breath and his clothes smells funny.” “That old woman has a mole on her face with a hair sticking out.” It is the adults who encourage the child to refrain from making those kinds of remarks, accurate as they may be in the interest of civility. Children eventually absorb through observation a good amount of mores and ethics that guide them, and the issue of honesty or dishonesty is meshed and blurred within those set of observed actions continually reinforced.

    For sure, as a member of the human race, I’ve been guilty of dishonesty, both from the perspective of peers and from myself. I’d like to think as I’ve gotten older, the breaches are far less egregious and infrequent, and most certainly warranted by circumstances, but let’s not pretend that any of us is perfect. With respect to litter, I have to admit that as a teen and brazen college kid, I would smoke and flick cigarettes when done with little regard to common courtesy of others property. I no longer smoke and no longer tolerate that kind of behavior (u intentionally omitted – American English you know) from others. So I can act self-righteous, but should note I was once guilty of said infractions. I have found money on the streets, but living in New York City, it was rather pointless to try and find the owner. Almost always, I’ve kept whatever is found if it is money – a fungible commodity. One time, I found a $10 bill near a street crossing post. I was delighted to find it, and yet for some reason as I walked back to my apartment, I felt a tug emotionally and dropped in to the local church and put it in the poor box. I can’t remember what I ever did with all those other chance findings of money, I’ll always remember that feeling I did something right with that $10 bill. I suppose that was worth more than the $10 itself.

    As to the comments, I’ll need a lot more coffee and time to read through and make sense of it all. Besides, I need to prepare for my workday, lest I be accused of dishonesty with regard to giving my employer a fair effort for the pay I receive…

    Comment by Phil — January 31, 2012 @ 14:10 | Reply

    • I am under the weather, Phil. Which is why I wish I were still smoking. More on the love of my life in separate post. Oh dear. Can’t wait. I will swoon.

      Hornets’ nest? I still don’t know how many hornets it takes to kill a horse. Being the niece of a tiny sweet country girl, a farmer’s daughter, my youngest uncle’s wife, a Marilyn Monroe lookalike, only tinier, I hazarded a guess. Many months ago I put forward, say, I don’t know, five [hornets]. As usual I had my facts wrong. Facts are overrated, Phil. Give me a good story any time.

      Work, Phil? Who needs work when you can starve whilst writing posts, comment on those of others and generally try to keep everyone either amused or annoyed?


      Comment by bitchontheblog — January 31, 2012 @ 17:51 | Reply

      • Somewhere in there is a maxim or two about beating a dead horse.

        If only I were able to keep others amused or annoyed, I might consider it a privilege to starve while doing so. I have to agree with you on facts. Why let facts stand in the way of a good story?

        Comment by Phil — February 1, 2012 @ 13:09 | Reply

        • Come on, Phil. Of course, you amuse. However, I can’t imagine you annoying anyone. Not even your wife. Which is saying a lot because, for reasons I had never considered until this moment, potential of irritation between partners appears high. I see older couples in shops and thirty, fourty years down their joint line, aisle 23, they will bicker bicker bicker over nothing. Some of those exchanges quite disturbing; particularly when one of them the top bickerer and the other clearly the hen/rooster bicked. Amounts to mental abuse.

          I’d go shopping with you any time.


          Comment by bitchontheblog — February 3, 2012 @ 10:22 | Reply

          • How about shopping with me sometime?
            Now that could be very wicked depending
            on what shops we are frequenting?

            Have fun tonight and of course be wicked
            over the weekend…

            Androgoth XXx

            Comment by Androgoth — February 4, 2012 @ 00:14 | Reply

RSS feed for comments on this post. TrackBack URI

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

Create a free website or blog at

%d bloggers like this: