Pants

On a pillow.

But pants is what I am generally....generally pants.

I'm amazed that I've managed to gain a new follower over the past 6 months! By my calculations that means that if I continue in my current state of EPIC blog-apathy then I'll reach the golden '100 followers' in the year 2049.

GO ME!!

So....there are a numbers of reasons why I am attempting another re-launch of the GB SprogBlog Enterprise.

Firstly! I am VERY hungover. To be honest I'm not good for much other than sprawling across the bed, shout-typing gibberish at an unspecified audience across the interwebs.

Ok...so I would be lying if I tried to (unsuccessfully I suspect) convince you that there had been no other hangovers in the last 6 months......there have been more than I can count, but as I say.....circumstances conspire!

Secondly...I am half-banished to the bedroom for creativity purposes.....Ogger's creativity, not mine, my creativity results in photos like the above, so I'm not allowed to do creative very often :(. I say half because Jo doesn't seem to be being very strict with me. I have emerged and rambled at her in a still-drunken manner a few times and she hasn't sent me packing, even when I threatened (offered? I guess it depends on whether you're talking from my POV or Jo's) to hug her. I also say half because it's actually more then 50% voluntary, I am thoroughly enjoying wasting an entire day lounging on my bed....it's for winners!

(as an aside....I'm not sure how much creativity is happening in that living room having just had a visit from Jo to tell me that she's arranged an interwebs date!)

Thirdly. Pants Man. I know you must be eagerly awaiting some kind of explanation in regards to him, but I'm gonna make you wait just a little while longer, cos I'm nice like that. I've been meaning to post for ages, but could never come up with anything half decent to write about (reading this diatribe back...I'm not 100% sure I shouldn't have left it a few more weeks!). After I made Pants Man I realised that maybe this is the kind of idiotic behaviour that I can use as a tenuous base for a blog post of questionable quality. Yet again, GO ME for my misplaced, hungover flashes of insight!

Fourthly.....and possibly most importantly, I appear to have fallen head over heels for a certain young man, again!! He's pretty easy to fall for, funny how life moves in circles sometimes :)

Yes......you've got it. This whole post is a thinly disguised excuse to come on the internet and boast because I'VE GOT A BOYFRAND!

Ahem....ok, that's out of my system now. So, for the sake of the poor guys privacy, I shall refer to him here as 'S'. You may be wondering why relationship = blog, I'm sure he is too, if he's reading this, concerned that I'll be trying to create some kind of real-life docu-blog, he'll be looking for hidden cameras. S is a military boy and so will be spending some very long, and occasionally boring, months away from home. Blogging is the perfect way to keep in touch, plus....he already thinks I'm crazy, so it won't matter when he reads the general kind of idiotic things I get up to day to day.

Don't worry! I'll leave the sappy crap for private emails....unless you anger me, and then you have only yourselves to blame.

You may have figured out by now the idea of Pants Man. Poor S made the mistake of forgetting a (clean) pair of underwear in my room. He's lost them forever now I'm afraid, I have absorbed them into my hovel, placed them on a huggable object and created Pants Man who now keeps me company when S is away.........mehehehehehehehe!!

S - I REALLY bet you wish you'd looked harder for those pants now :D

(Mum, dad, if you're reading this....I'm sorry, you suffer for my art *snort*, art!!)

(S....sorry if you just read that last bit)

I'm in China!

So if you want to know what I'm up to I'll be over on the Travel Blog here :o)

Cheers x

Ready.....Aim......Fire

What does it mean when you visit a strangers house and they invite you to fire a rifle pellet directly into their living room floor? Does it mean you're TOTALLY in? :o)

Unfortunately the lovely chappie in question is a 64 year old bus driver called Ken, I've been single a while, but not prepared to go there quite yet.

The Christmas season is upon us! And in my own inimitable style, I still have half of my Christmas shopping to do and have written next to zero Christmas cards. I was much better when I was living at home and had my sister dragging me out shopping at every opportunity.

I have, however, managed to both amuse and horrify my new manager by decorating my new office:

Yes, I know, tasteful :o). I have also managed to consume an entire box of Lindor almost to myself, and polish of half a bottle of bubbly with Oggs that was presented to me a mere day or so ago. I think as far as achievements go I'm doing quite well. Essential achievements such as wrapping and.......buying in general continue to elude me.

I'd like to take this opportunity to Say a big Merry Christmas to everyone out there who has held on as a follower during my exceedingly lax year this year! My resolution is to get off my blogging ass and do something fun to write about next year. Next year I will mostly be writing about snow.....ice......snow sludge......icy snow sludge, and then the wonders of finally being able to walk in a straight line with correct posture, instead of like a rather tense, hesitant gnome with a persistent back complaint.

So, Merry Christmas Y'all, and a Happy 2011. I hope the new year turns out to be all you wish for :o)

Oh, Stow, how I love you so

So it's finally happened! Ogs and Sprogs live together.....a recipe for disaster I hear you ask? Will the universe implode? Or wll we simply die of alcohol poisoning?

Neither....I hope.

I moved in yesterday...with the help of my long-suffering father (Thank you Daddeh!). We packed the van in the morning, spending much of it confused that there seemed to be so much less than when I moved in. I'm sure I brought almost 20 boxes home, along with roughly 8 binbags....and all the crap that goes along with it. This time I had 6 boxes, 4 black bags.....and all the crap that goes along with it.

Hmmmmm....one suspects I may be bringing stuff back with me after visits home for quite some time.

I realised the day before moving that I actually didn't have much furniture. I left most of my stuff behind when I moved out of Grants, and so I have books with no bookcase and underwear with no drawers (drawers with no drawers....geddit??? I'm so funny). So I'm currently in a state of slight disarray, but all shall be fixed next weekend when furniture arrives...huzzah.

For now I'm amusing myself by smiling at the cats. I'd say laughing, but that's just mean, because their current behaviour has been brought about by the stress of the move and living in a new house. Having said that, I have to admit that they can be comical.

Mornington has always been a skittish kitty, the phrase 'scaredy-cat' was invented purely for her. She's currently spending most of her time under the bed, but she does venture into the living room occasionally. However, she doesn't seem to like the corridor floor, I think she sees it as hot coles...or shark-infested water, and Jo's room and the living room are at opposite ends of the house. So when you're sitting in the front room, you know when she's coming, she thunders down the corridor at a rate of knots, as Jo said the other day....at least she'll be losing some weight.

Mornington in less-skittish days at Gandhi Close

Sometimes you'll hear thundering and she won't appear, and when you peek out into the corridor she's perched ontop of the kitty scratcher or the 2 cardboard boxes a little further down, like a portly sentinel, presumably to regain her wits before the next assault on the floor. Likewise, you're not allowed to walk past her in the corridor, I suspect she lacks some spatial awareness and is convinced that you'll squish her if you try. This causes her to make a mad dash for whichever room or tower she can reach before you get to her.

Bless her crazy little heart.

Lucy is a little more relaxed, I wish she'd have a word with her errant daughter.

Tarquin has survived so far, presumably because Mornington is too preoccupied at the moment to have noticed his existence. I'm sure within a few weeks he'll be suffering the effects of her appetite.

So far so good people, stay tuned for more adventures of Ogs and Sprogs......oh...I simply cannot wait!

P.S, thank you Nicki for the awesome moving-in gift :D Once I have a good pic of it that I can get my hands on, it'll be posted. Love you x

The Pitter Patter of Tiny Feet?

Nope, more like the trample-clatter of stiletto-clad size tens!

This past weekend saw the fantastic spectacle of the 6th Annual Greenwich Drag Race. I had seen pictures of last years race on a friends profile, and I simply couldn't miss out this year, given my innate fondness of men in dresses.

My sister and I, Oggers, and our mates Ste and Kyle installed ourselves safely in Bar Du Museé on Nelson Street prior to the big event, along with about another 20 of Ste and Kyles friends. You see, it's simply not cricket to turn up to the Drag Race 100% sober....even for the contestants. I had been under the impression that the race would start at 7pm, however, the rumour had circulated that it in fact didn't start until 8pm, they told the Queens that it was 7pm to make sure they turned up on time!

We were still in the bar at 7:45pm, knowing that in all likelihood it still wouldn't kick off until 8:30pm. The area we were sitting in had actually been reserved for another party, but they were loathe to throw us out seeing as we reportedly spent about £1000 between us over 3 hours. Instead, they had blocked off our exit with a sofa, herding us safely into the corner with no hope of escape. So precious a commodity were we, that when we left at 8pm and Ste asked if we could reserve the area to return at 9pm, they accepted immediately and marked the area off.

Released from our upholstered prison, we trotted along to the Rose and Crown, the pub that organises this now-annual event. The Rose and Crown bills itself as a straight-friendly gay pub, I really love that! It was very cool to see policemen and women along with towering drag queens milling around in a huge crowd outside the pub. I spotted at least two brides, one Lady Gaga, a group of air hostesses complete with carry-on and at least 6 wigs that must have exceeded a foot in height.

Now the drag race is only one lap around the block (a large block). You can sympathise, the minimum requirement for the race is a 2 inch heel, and you must start and finish with your shoes on. There are also 2 'Sambuca Stops', where the Queens must halt and take a shot before carrying on. We positioned ourselves where last years Sambuca Stop had been, in the hopes of seeing some entertaining staggering and/or digestive pyrotechnics. Unfortunately they had moved the stops, but we were nicely positioned to see the Queens racing/trotting/walking/staggering into the final straight.

The winner of the Race was really quite impressive, we looked on to see a bride racing towards us, and I mean racing. She had her long white gown held up and out of the way, arms pumping, leaning forward in the manner of a bull running for a red flag. She reminded me somewhat of an over-competitive young mother at a Sports Day, kicking her toddler before her like a football as she 'helps' him win the 10 metre sprint.

She was followed closely by a few others, and then the rest began to come through in a slow flow. There were the joggers, balancing carefully on their 3 inch heels. They obviously hadn't put as much time into running around Greenwich with heels as Miss Bride had. Every competitor got cheers, waves and sips of beer from the crowd as they passed back into view of the Rose and Crown. But the biggest cheer was reserved for the last contestant.

If I remember correctly, she was dressed in a leopardskin top and pink leggings, and one of her heels had broken off, but she was persevering! After a slow walk chatting up a policeman, she 'sped' up, her legs bent so far it looked like she was in a half squat, and taking a tumble every now and again, but she made it over the finish line.

I've never seen anything quite like it in my life, I think I love it, a huge collection of people coming together to celebrate sexual and cultural diversity. However, the thing I love the most is the fact that the police close the roads for the duration of the race. I saw a bus stopped at the end of the road, the unexpected sight they were treated to must be something that will be burnt into their memories forever!

I Hath Returned!!

Back to reality...I've been back at work for a week, and when I think about my 3 months travelling I can't believe I was away for 3 months.

Work has been pretty much ok actually. I think I've been helped along by the fact that everything is changing for everyone at work at the moment. No one really knows what's going on, and so everyone is just as confused as me. Had I been plonked down into exactly the same situation as I left in, it may have been more of a judder, provoking a high-pitched wail of 'Nooooo......not for the rest of my liiiiife!!'

Things have changed since I've been away, new boss, soon-to-be new office, new colleagues.

.....Psychic octopi.......

Really??

Yes, this is what REALLY inspired me to begin blogging again. Paul.

Having been away for 3 months, my sister took the opportunity to tell me about Paul one day at home. There I was, innocently tapping away at the computer, probably wasting another day playing TumbleBugs (awesome....give it a go), when she started.

'There's this octopus'

*I look up, a tad confused. Did she just say what I think she said?* 'An octopus?'

'Yes.....there's this Octopus, his name is Paul'

'Paul...'

'Yes, his name is Paul, and he lives in Germany'

'Ok' *Okkkkkkkkkkk*

'And he predicts the football scores'

'Shhhh...go back to sleep Nicki'

And yet sure enough, there he was on the telly an hour or so later. Apparently, his selection for the finals is going to be shown live on television. I do hope that Paul the Psychic Cephalopod doesn't suffer from stage fright.

I read in the Metro this morning that he has been recieving death threats from angry Argentinians in the form of seafood recipes. One chef having threatened to catch him and 'tenderise' him, before serving up a wonderful calamari I suspect.

Poor Paul...I wonder if he'll survive to enjoy the next world cup, or whether he'll have been squid-napped (oh....that was truly awful, and taxonomically incorrect) and held for ransom by the England football team, in return for their dignity?

I feel sorry for Paul and his future of psychic evaluation and scientific probing. That pod is gonna be SO sick of mussels by next month.

Long Time no See.....Check this out....

Hello Everyboday :D

I haven't updated here in a while...my apologies, but I'm spending 3 months in Asia and blogging over on my travelblog. I can barely keep up there as it is, trying to do two would kill me!

I did however, just have to direct you to the site of a relatively new blogger. He's someone I've known for over ten years, one of the funniest people I've ever met, and he's just begun to write. He's been keeping me entertained with his musings over the past couple of weeks and you should TOTALLY check out his blog, click here, click now! You won't be disappointed :D

B xxx