yes and we need to see you in wet teeshirt too!!
yes but walkin around marks and sparks with a jack hammer repeatedly chanting I need structure in my life is a bit frightening for other shoppers don’t you think spits - you could leave the hammer at home occasionally?
I’m sure there is a song for that. If I had a hammer …
yes of course a spittie song why didn’t I think of that - don’t answer that question SP or I will never talk to you again!!
You’ll hardly ever see me with a Hammer, I like to Screw whenever possible.
never seen ya screw either - any utubes??
Hold on!!!
funny thing lurv heh - it comes in through the window and out through the window - we get it and then we loose it - we wanna possess it and then share it - we have many of them or only ever one - we win some and lose some!
I think you are saying, an urge can become a scourge, take your pick on the definition, but, that is not love, it’s not that serious!!!
I kept mine. x
I do recall someone climbing through my window in Jersey.
My hubby was away, it was the wrong window he was climbing through!!! He got a surprise from me!!!
Urges??? Could thread topic Spitty. Go on I dare you.
Could have been worse, could have been the Back Door.
that is not love, it’s not that serious!!!
oh really so would you like to define love oh dear one??
It takes years and years, and, you have to jettison the Ego, that’s just for starters.
Another death!
My SIL died.
My BIL is drinking heavily!
What a year!
I will not dwell.
Sorry for your loss Sweetie. It hasn’t been good for you this year so far, but as they say when bad luck strikes, good luck always follows, balance is what life is all about I think, you have to take the bad with the good, so things can only pick up for you from here, hopefully.
Talking of drink, I was talking to an old friend of mine last week in Killarney, he was a devil for the drink, really bad on it. When I bumped into him he was with his wife in the same pub we were in and he was drinking lemonade, he was in great form and looked a hell of a lot better than he did. I kid you not but this is how the conversion went.
Me: “Ah hello there Sean, how are you keeping?”
Him: I’m terrific Jem, nice to see you and your family down here again, your nearly a local now”
Me: Am I seeing things or are you off the drink?
Him: “Yes I packed it in”
Me: “How long are you off it?”
Him: Three years, six months, four days, two hours, (He looks at his watch) and about ten minutes”
Me: Do you miss it?”
What an obviously stupid question, I wished I hadn’t said that, but he just looked at me and the pair of us laughed.
The way I see it is if he can pack it in anyone can, if they have a mind to.
Yes, you are right Jem. But they have to admit they have a problem first.
Loved your story as always. x
But it could have been a lot worse,Sweepmeoffmyfeetikins,had the friend said “Well only for the next two days,twelve hours and eleven minutes…then I’m goin’ t’ get bladdered!”
Leave it to you Pug.
I think he’ll stick it out Pug, he’s a very determined fella. He’s nuts about his wife and his marriage was in trouble over the drink, she was going to leave him, they are both lovely people. It won’t be easy for him though, he drives a truck for one of the big breweries over here so he’s literally surrounded by the stuff every working day.
I see yis had a couple of pages on cats, I’m a week behind you know and am slow on the uptake, if you had a weak behind you’d know all about it.
My old Aunt Eileen was a cat lady, she had about six of them coming and going in and out of her little town house, they were huge, she was a spinster (I’m not sure if one can still say that now, don’t you think they should post out a booklet to folks over 70 to let them know what words they can and cannot say?, Christ knows they can send out enough political shit when there’s an election on) anyway she never married. She had a few bob and she’d buy the finest steak and fresh fish for them.
She lived on her own with the cats, a very independent woman was she, she made a packet over the years investing in stocks and shares, she worked all her live in a Solicitors office.
Anytime I went to visit her the cats would jump on my back from a dresser or the top of the high sofa, they would then sit and stare at me giving me the evil eye, out of the place I thought I’d never get. When she died she left all her money to the church, talk about apples into an orchard.
I’m more of a dog man myself, not really a catman, I don’t trust them, put it this way, if a cat and a dog were drowning and I could only save one of them I’d save the dog.
If a fella comes from Katmandu is he called a Katman? Was Heathcliff a Cathy man?
I believe Donald Trump owns a newspaper in India, the editor is a little skinny fella who sleeps on a bed of nails, the paper is called “Fakir News”
I know I know, eez terrible.