lovely lady lumps

Mum: I put all my summer clothes away in my trunk today.

Me: Is there a lot of junk in it?

Mum: No. It’s very neat.

Lulu: I think there’s a lotttt of junk in your trunk *snort*

Me: Mum. Whatchu gonna do with all that junk, all that junk inside that trunk?

Mum: There isn’t any!

Lulu:Are you gonna make them work work make them work?

Mum: Wha...Who?

Lulu: Mum! What you gonna do with all that ass all that ass inside those jeans?

Me: Mum! Do you drive those fellas crazy, do it on the daily?

my boys

I had to go to the post office and Sainsburys for work (milk, coffee etc) and put the reception phone on answerphone. This means that all calls go through to Maurice and Max:

Max: Jeeeeesus, get back to your desk already. I am sick of fielding your calls. I am not paid to be a receptionist.

Maurice: Doubt Rosie is either

Me: But you two make such pretty receptionists!

Max: *pouting*

Maurice: Well, I do have the legs for it. And Max has the skirt.

Me: Anywayyyyyyy did anyone important call?

Maurice: Yeahh some guy, whatshisname….Dr something…

Me: Noooo!

Max: Yeah. I told him to fuck off!

Maurice: Nah, we just told him you were out with the rugby team.

Max: Pissed

Maurice: Animal

Max: Can’t get the staff

Me: Wow. I love how you guys got my back!

familiar yet really strange

This weekend I drove my mum and dad to the pub.

Dad: It’s a warm feeling knowing that sometimes your children can be fucking useful

On the way I pulled up at a cash point and mum got out. She was wearing a beautiful butterfly dress, leggings and heels.

Dad: Haven’t I done well with your mother? She’s a stone cold fox.

Mum: *getting back in the car* Ro, lets ditch your father and go out on the pull.

Me: oooooooooo you’re gonna feel so bad when I tell you what he was saying about you

Mum: *looking at Dad* Ahhhhhhh sweetie I’ll make it up to you later

Then I went home and cooked dinner for my sister Lu and brother Toby.

Toby was telling me about his friends, Tom and Harry.

Me: So.... does that make you a dick?

working 9-5 what a way to make a living

I really love the people I work with and I love that everyone makes an effort to come out for Friday night drinks. Whether you come for one drink or you are the last to leave.

Me: Ale, are you coming for a drink later?
Ale: No sorry, I'm off to Paris after work.
Me: Cool, bring me back a dashing French man. And a baguette.
Ale: Ok, and would you like me to bring back a baguette for you as well?
Me: Jeez, loweringgggg the tone.

partying like it's 1999

Last night I went to the O2 Arena and saw Prince. I went with So, Hawk and Fiontan and all three of them were wearing purple. I was all, sooooooooo obvious.

Prince was excellent. His stage was just his symbol shape with flashing lights and his dancers were busting out with very Tina Turner-esque moves. The kind of moves that I do in my room on my own when no one is watching.

My only complaint was the people who did not stay in their seats but instead who continually walked up and down the aisles and stairs to get more drinks or whatever. Who does that when the performance is underway?

I really liked the total jobsworth of a security guard who told the lone man standing on the stairs next to his seat that he was a hazard. Excuse you, if there is a fire, that man standing there is not going to be much of a hindrance to me barrelling past.

I also really love when people heckle. When Prince left the stage for the last time I totally joined in the boos. And the 'Prinnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnce.'
I went to the cinema with my younger sister, LuLu, and the screen was fuzzy. All these young children started booing and I totally joined in.

Fiontan entertained me the whole way home with his game of lets make a conversation made up entirely of song lyrics. He also told the funniest story of how he was running for a bus and some guys in a van drove alongside him shouting: ‘you runnnnn like a gayyyyyyy boy.’

Fiontan: ‘And I was only getting the bus home because my gran had told me it was safer than walking!’

orcs in the aisle

I saw Lord of the Rings on stage with M. It was amazing. The staging was a work of art. My only complaint is regarding the FREAKING ORCS in the FREAKING AISLES. At one point they dimmed the lights. And the screaming began. In my head I knew they were just people dressed up but at one point I was trying to climb over M. I am your friend. Until the orcs roam the aisle. Then I will totally sacrifice you so I can run away.

The lift at my work was recently renovated. It took months and was only back in service recently. And I cannot see any improvement except that in feels like it has gone on that programme – Pimp my Ride. Our lift now has flashing green and red lights down the side and talks to you. But it says the wrong thing. Like, you reach your floor and it says: ‘Lift going down, doors opening.’ And it takes about 7 years for the doors to close or it to arrive. I kind of think they had cowboy engineers who were like, we’ll put flashing lights in it AND NOONE WILL EVER KNOW WE CAN’T REPAIR LIFTS.

excuse you rude

Last night I went out to dinner again with M. There is a groovy parade of restaurants in London on St Christopher’s Place. It is a bit like being in Ibiza or wherever it is that club reps stand outside trying to entice you in. But with waiting staff.
So we wandered along and settled on a Spanish tapas place. The waiter, unlike at every other restaurant along the street, was not bothered that we were interested in eating there and, in fact, ignored us until M stood in front of him and asked for a table. The table he gave us was recently vacated and needed cleaning so he said he would be back with a cloth. But he lied and it took another twenty minutes to attract his attention again. What with it taking so long for him to serve us, we decided whilst we had him there, we ordered our wine at the same time as asking him to wipe the table.

Waiter: *really arsily* Do you want me to get you wine or wipe the table?
Me: er…BOTH?

M: Whatssssss hissssss problem?
Me: Dunno, lets smile maniacally at him though to freak him out.

This totally worked and at the end of the meal he smiled back and had a chat with us.

M: Finallyyyyyyyyy
Me: Ha whatever, we got the Dr to tell us he loved us, he was nothing.
M: Yeah, he needed to try so much harder with the hostile…
Me: Needed to throw in a few worthless monkeys etc..
M: God we’re so jaded

Finished a beautiful evening with this exchange with my brother, J.

J: *standing outside bathroom*
Me: Damn, is there a queue?
J: Mums in there
Me: HaHa the door is totally unlocked, I’m going in. Don’t you wish you were a woman?
J: No I just wish I didn’t need a crap

murder on the dance floor

On Friday I went out for birthday drinks for an ex-colleague of mine, Mike. The pub we went to was rammed with people watching the England vs. South Africa…I wanna say Rugby…game. When the game ended, and people were quite pissed, the DJ started playing. I love that at the beginning he was playing ‘cool’ songs and people were nonchalantly standing around, maybe tapping their toes. Then he put on Summer of 69 by Bryan Adams and Livin’ on a Prayer by Bon Jovi and suddenly IT WAS MAYHEM on the dance floor. I think it says it all to say he ended the set with Queens Don’t Stop Me Now. Londoners. We are soooooo easy to please. I forget how much I enjoy dancing. Even though I am terrible at it. I can only dance with a glass of wine in my hand.

On Saturday I wandered my local high street with my parents and younger sister. We went to a second hand bookshop where my dad basically stood in the same place and read Duncan Bannatynes autobiography. But wouldn’t buy it because it was £5. My dad is really thrifty and rarely buys himself anything. He also rarely reads so to find a book that captured his attention in the shop for twenty minutes was impressive. But he left without buying it. Even though he told us he had wanted to read it for ages. Because it was £5. My mum was all: ‘For goodness sake, I’ll buy it for you. Out of our joint account.’ And he continued reading it down the street.

Saturday evening I went to the cinema with my 2 sisters and my sisters boyfriend, Hawk, to see SuperBad. We have taken to buying our own drinks and sweets and smuggling them past the Gestapo security. Adds a frisson of danger to the evening. I loved the film.

Sunday I was meant to go to the Thames festival but I never managed to get out of bed until eleven so I took my little sister to Brent Cross instead. She managed to buy a whole outfit whilst I only bought another black eyeliner.
In the evening I went to the cinema to see 1408 because my friends boyfriend and his friend did some of the electrical work. There is a scene in the film where John Cusacks character waves one of those long lights around – looks like a lightsabre. Apparently it was not John Cusacks hand holding it though. It was my friends. Most obscure claim to fame ever! He also kept the ashtray that was thrown through the window in one scene but sssh. Don't tell anyone.

shake it if you got it

M is arranging a hen party for her friend so after work she decided to head to Ann Summers for supplies. I offered to go with her for moral support. I am a good friend like that.

Before we went we were looking at the Ann Summers website where, amongst other things, you can buy a full sized strippers pole for £160.

Me: Imagine having that in your bedroom!!
M: Yeah, you’d be all swinging around it, the ceiling shaking…
Me: Your flatmate going: ‘What’s going on? What’s that noise?’
M: ‘Oh its nothing! I’m just…dancing…’
Me: *CRASH* ‘Don’t come in!! I’m fine!’
M: I can imagine so many bruises
Me: Imagine going to work the next day with a black eye or a broken arm. ‘How did you do that?’
M: ‘Oh, I just…walked into a door!’

So we went to the shop that evening and picked out the bits she wanted. Then we wandered downstairs which is where all the vibrators are kept. And oh my God. One of them looked like you could play Rounders with it.

M: What the hell would you use that for?
Me: Deter burglars?

The best part was the shop assistant in charge of the vibrators on display. There were quite a few people looking at them, picking them up etc and the shop assistant was throwing out random comments like: ‘That one is a best seller, 9/10 women agree.’ But the way he said it was like he was selling toothbrushes or something. Thee most dispassionate flat voiced commentary ever. I lost it a little bit when he was all: ‘Andddddddd that end goes in the anus whilst this part stimulates the clit-orrrr-us.’ I think that means you have been working there too long.

After the sordidness of the sex shop we needed some wine so we found a really cute Turkish restaurant and sat outside. It was a really lovely evening where you have a bottle of wine and then another and you’re best friends and you’re talking about everything…

When we had finished M went to the bathroom. The tables were quite close together and on the one next to us were another two girls. I was happily sitting there finishing my wine when I noticed that one girl had gone to the bathroom and the other was staring at me. And staring. Then she leaned in and said: ‘I think you and your friend should come back to mine. Me and my pal will show you both a good time…’

Me: Erm….

Then M came back I was like, ok lets go!

We got a safe distance from the restaurant and M said: ‘One of the girls sitting next to us totally propositioned me in the bathroom.’

It was a good night.

milk run

Via text:

ME - Hey M, we only have 2 milks left B.C (Before Cereal).

M - Ok I will get some. I know their cereal is sacred!

ME - God forbid they waste away, concentration and focus on their work dwindling, the competition beginning to sense weakness…. I'll get some at lunch if you cant be bothered.

M - I guess we wouldn’t survive the barbarian invasion if we wait with this strategic manoeuvre until lunch!

ME - You are right secret squirrel! I will batten down the hatches, secure the area and await your arrival with the package!

M - Done deal! Keep an eye on our enemy! I'll knock and bark 3x before entering the site.

Me - The reply will be a dot a dash and a dot beep beep. Don’t look back, beware of the red cows. My prayers are with you.

worthless monkey

My boss is a very busy man. This means that he finds it hard to remember names. So he will make one up for you. Not intentionally.

My friend Chris is Steve to him. This is because it is a derivative of his surname. I am so used to my boss, the good Dr, calling Chris Steve that I have begun to accidentally start calling him that myself:

From: Chris
To: Rosie
Subject: Oi!

Stop calling me Steve in front of all the new kids!

Before you know it they'll be as clueless as the Dr is about who Chris is!

Regards,

Steve

The Dr gets very stressed about work and during one of our, numerable, arguments he called me a worthless monkey and said a ten year old could do my job:

From: Rosie
To: Chris
Subject: RE: Oi!

You think you got problems - Dr thinks my name is worthless ten year old monkey. I’d settle for Steve any day.

Regards,
WTYOM

One of my jobs is to keep the office stocked with milk. Tea drinking is serious business here and God help you if there is no milk. GOD HELP YOU. Due to some office renovations the fridge housing the milk is now a long way from my desk. This means it is not so easy to check the milk status. Which means it runs out and the moaning, hair pulling and general weeping and wailing and rendering of garments will follow shortly. This morning I went to check the fridge and met Steve on his way back taking an unopened pint to the kitchen.

Me: Do you know how many cartons are left?
S: Er…no…I didn’t count
Me: Pffft

So I went to count. Then headed to the kitchen happy there was milk and I wouldn’t have to go to the shop.

Steve: So how many were there?
Me: 4. Or 3. Er… I think 3. Or 4. Lets say 3.5.
S: What! 4 or 3? You can’t count!! How many fingers am I holding up??

This email I received later, continuing from the earlier ones, made me laugh:

From: Chris
To: Rosie
Subject: RE: Oi!

Ten-year old?!

I was pretty sure it was more like a three or four year old monkey. Then again, three and four are such similar numbers I often struggle to differentiate between the two.

Counting is HARD!

Steve

Exchanges like this make me happy and I'm writing them here because I am getting very old and forgetful. Nothing to do with all the alcohol I drink AT ALL.