So then I shut my stupid brain up by browsing the ‘Net for beds and collars and leashes and harnesses and puppy toys and training equipment and puppy friendly, eco-friendly shampoo’s and conditioners and bath toys and towels and rope chews and squeaky toys and glow in the dark jingly things and stuff that would keep a nine week old puppy entertained and happy, so it didn’t think about chewing on stuff I’d rather it didn’t.
Tag Archives: Life In The Suburbs
Genealogy, The Mommy & Predatory Monopoly… Again.!
We played Monopoly with the kids again last night… and this time the girl child cried. I went in with a bang, with double six, double four and double two… bought the properties I landed on, then went to jail… no problem… I left them standing. 😀
Matters Of Communication & The Wrong Shoes
We chatted about the wedding, travel plans and social commitments that are causing me a great deal of stress, and my hopes to see my son when we get to the UK.
Monopoly, Burns & ‘Surprise’ Tattoos
…he’s already gone and had two tattoos done by her without giving me a say in it and now he expects me to allow her to ink me without having a say.
Monday
Wish my neighbours would bugger off and annoy the German’s; they’re at it again, screaming and fighting with each other and slamming doors.
Spring, Liars & Awesome Curry
So much for not having political meetings until March.! The sneaky bastards have arranged a meeting for tomorrow night and for next Wednesday evening.
Pastry, Fucking Pastry & The Namer of Storms
Storm Ciara has decided to pay us a visit. Who makes up these names.? Do they get paid to.? Is there going to be a Storm Colin or a Hurricane Nigel at some point.?
Coughing, Driving and Resisting The Urge
I like to drive even though I haven’t in almost seven years. Bear won’t let me. I have a driving license, he just won’t let me. He won’t add me to the insurance.
The Morning Chorus
If she is doing her housework that early, she can be heard banging her vacuum filter against her wheelie bin to clear it of dust, and then banging the wheelie bin lid down.
Dear Diary... 