The Weak Willed Woman Reads The News

I am but a weak willed woman.  I cannot resist the temptation of deliciously bad for you food.  I was not made to resist.  I am rubbish.  I have zero willpower.  I am however, fine about it.  No point crying over spilled milk, or in this case, spilled chocolate caramel slice and a Chinese takeaway.  Jason came home early from work. He had taken a half day and come home to take me to Borders for cake and coffee and home via the takeaway to cheer me up because my week so far has not been going well, and next week is the school holidays.  The girls dad has got them tonight, so it was just me, Jason and Oscar, which is as alone as we are going to get for the moment.  I was really, really touched that he’d done something so lovely just for me. I do love that man.

I haven’t really got time to write two blogs today.  I didn’t really have time to write one, but I squeezed one in where laundry should have been, which is why I’m wandering about in my third best tracksuit bottoms, which seem to have bleach splatters down them from where I was overenthusiastically cleaning the loo last week.  Nice.

Anyway.  I wanted to write about my lovely treat, which has cheered me up no end, and I wanted to note down some excellent news stories which appeared in the last few days and which I have been meaning to blog about for some time:

Firstly:

There was a fantastic piece this morning on the Beeb about a woman who had gone to work with a bat sleeping in her bra and hadn’t notice that she had it nestled, snoring gently into her bosom for five hours until it began to wake up.  Apparently it started wriggling around and she thought it was her mobile phone vibrating! Although why a person would keep their mobile phone in their bra, never mind a bat, boggles my mind slightly. 

She said that she had gone home a bit worse for wear and had got up in a rush, whipped the bra from the drawer and just put it on.  The bra had been on the washing line the day before and she thought that the bat may just have climbed in there for a little rest or something!  This is an awesome story.  God knows what the bat thought when it woke up pressed to her mammaries.  I believe she had a rather large FF cup size.  It probably thought it was down a well or something.  I bet its sonar was useless and just kept reverberating around the chasm between her boobs and confusing the poor thing even more.  A tragic tale of woe.  And for those of you who might have been worried, don’t panic.  They released it back into the wild.  It will probably need therapy mind you.  I expect it’s flown over to have a chat with Rolf Harris.

We once found a dead bat in one of my mother’s vases and teased her mercilessly about it for months afterwards.  This makes that incident seem trivial.  That woman will never live down the fact that she had livestock in her bra for over half a working day and failed to notice it.  Nightmare!

Nextly:

A survey has found that the government and nutritionists think that prison food should be enjoyable for staff and inmates.  Why? I mean, it should be enjoyable for staff, but why should inmates have nice food?  Maybe part of their punishment should be that they should eat gruel, much like poor Oliver Twist in the workhouse.  I’m not in favour of bringing back capital punishment and I do think that there should be less than twenty men to a cell, and it would be nice if they had real loos instead of buckets, but I draw the line at nice food.  Blimey, some days we don’t have nice food, and we’ve not done anything wrong.

Hospitals and schools have some of the worst food in the country.  Reports now show that significant numbers of old people in hospitals actually die of malnutrition due to poor food quality and the lack of people to sit with them and make sure they eat and are fed properly.

At the Leicester Royal Infirmary, which is our local hospital, a woman campaigned for two years to allow kids on the childrens ward access to fruit, fresh food and drinks when they wanted them instead of being forced to eat the same food as the adults at the same time, because it suited the catering staff’s rota better.  She funded the campaign out of her own pocket.  So, if there’s any money left after the government have reimbursed her and sorted out the hospitals and schools I might consider it, but until then. Non merci.

After That:

A woman in India has given birth to twins at the age of seventy. Amazing until you read that actually nobody has any idea of how old she is, due to the fact that she has no birth certificate and she can’t remember herself. Apparently she can vaguely remember being nine, but that’s about it.  Now, she looks old enough to be seventy from the pictures, but she’s clearly had a hard life.  On a bad day I can look seventy and I’m only thirty six.  I guarantee you I would look seventy if someone told me tomorrow that the reason I can’t resist chocolate cake at the moment is because I’m pregnant with twins.  That would be very ageing.  Plus, it’s not like she’s rubbing on Olay Regenerative every day is it? What a rubbish story.  It’s like them printing a story about me with the headline: ‘Woman claims to be Roy from Roy’s of Wroxham’, only to then confess that I might be a bit confused about it.  Pooh story.

Some More:

Roller discos are set to be the new big thing in the UK.  The Roller Disco Marketing Board are spending trillions on fantastic adverts of a stick thin woman in faux eighties clothing roller discoing into Big Ben and knocking it down in a hilarious: ‘Ooops! There go my bloomers!’ kind of way.  It’s going to set the UK on fire and make it the centre for roller disco excellence throughout the whole of the Western Hemisphere.  We shall soon see Strictly Come Roller Disco and revivals of Starlight Express by the Dorking WI and I will be rollering the children to school wired up to my Ipod mini blaring out the Nolan Sisters: ‘I’m In the Mood For Dancing…’ It will be great.  Or not….

Lastly:

The number of seventy year olds and olders (??) having sex is growing.  What’s more, they’re enjoying sex.  In fact they’re enjoying sex so much that they’re prepared to tell any random woman with a clip board who says they’re doing a MORI poll that they’re enjoying it.  That’s how much they’re enjoying it.

Well, as reported last week, the number of STD’s in the over 45’s has doubled recently.  Perhaps it’s all the over seventy year olds that are just pushing the numbers up.  I blame hip replacements.  Get rid of hip replacements and make everyone fall apart like they used to and the number of cases of chlamydia will drop like a stone down a well.  God, I’m good.  I think the government should hire me for my own private think tank.

Do you really believe them though? I wonder if they just told the clipboard woman that so they could stop freezing their arses off on the doorstep and get back inside for the last ten minutes of Deal or No Deal and a hob nob. That’s what I’d do.  Plus, can you trust them.  Half of them don’t know where they’ve put their false teeth or what day it is.  They’d probably say yes if she said: ‘Were you personally responsible for the bombing of Hiroshima?’ or ‘Do you know where the thirty nine steps are?’  If they didn’t have their hearing aid turned up properly they’d probably think she was saying: ‘Do you enjoy chess?’  There they’d be dreamily thinking of Gary Kasparov and she’d be trying to block out mental images of wizened bosoms that look like droopy pears in a hanky.  It’s a thankless life being a pollster.  I don’t believe a word of it.