Things I have learned so far this week:
There are about sixteen thousand miles of railway lines in the UK. This seems an unfeasibly large number of miles given the fact that it can take all day to get from London Victoria to Brighton for example, particularly on a Sunday. You think, given all those miles of track and the general shortness of mainland Britain, everything would be a bit bloody quicker.
Some bees are not naturally gregarious and all up for dancing and hanging out with their mates making artisan honey. Some bees are lonesome souls who are teeny weeny like a new born chick and like to live alone in old snail shells like weird eighteenth century hermits.
If I were a bee, I would be the sort of mad, solitary bee who grew a beard, lived in an old snail shell and refused to socialise, or indeed do anything productive at all. I’d be a fuck you bee.
I am physically incapable of walking past an open packet of Chilli Heatwave Doritos without falling on them and trying to stuff them all into my mouth at once, rather like The Cookie Monster, but with crisps.
Your tractor driving skills will not be impaired, even if you are required to take antacids. This is a relief to indigestion riddled farmers everywhere. Some research (spurious) suggests that your tractor driving skills may actually be enhanced by taking antacids. Let’s do a test. We need one farmer with indigestion, one farmer without indigestion and one farmer who we can give indigestion to which we may or may not cure with antacids. We need three tractors, a large field, Norris McWhirter, a stop watch and a trumpet playing buffoon. GO!
The ocarina has been scientifically proven to be twenty thousand times more irritating a noise when played by a child, than even a recorder, and a recorder is one of the most irritating musical instruments on the planet (when played by a child). It is particularly irritating when you have paid £9 for the privilege of having the ocarina played at you by your triumphant eleven year old who vows to learn Taylor Swift’s entire back catalogue using the power of spit and an ocarina.
The term of abuse ‘Bus wanker’ is very popular in the LE2 area of Leicester at the moment. Popularised largely by me. The word ‘bus’ can be substituted for any other noun you feel like adding. For example, as a friend suggested when I had been trapped in church for many hours over the weekend against my will ‘church wanker’ would also be acceptable. Being behind someone in the supermarket queue who has failed to get their purse out, or even vaguely know where it is, despite having been in the queue for twenty minutes and having no other reason for being in the queue other than to pay for groceries could be a ‘queue wanker’. Currently I am sporting the titles ‘blog wanker’ and ‘post office wanker’. I need badges, prefect style. Feel free to extrapolate wildly and appropriate where needed. It is most satisfying.
My children can still a) surprise me and b) make me tear up, in a good way. This is a strong case for not sending them a) up chimneys to earn their keep or b) to a children’s home, even if they do insist on interrogating me on the nature and function of the scrotum while I am navigating rush hour traffic.
There are two places in the world called Dhakar, one is in Senegal, one is in Bangladesh. They are both spelled differently. Probably not either of them the way I have spelled it. If you wish to visit one, please confer with your sat nav before setting out which one you are in fact heading for. If you get it wrong you will definitely not make the party in time, and you may fail a very important question in the pub quiz of your choice. Similarly if you get Shania Twain mixed up with Jools Oliver in the picture round, the same fate awaits you. Please do not set the sat nav to visit either of these people though, they are very private and they totally have not invited you to their party.
Cats can get hiccups because Derek got the hiccups. I have never seen a cat with hiccups before. It was most impressive. My friend Betty suggested I put a key down her back. I thought this was a better option than getting her to drink a glass of water backwards. She concurred. In the end I went for the time honoured ‘give them a fright’ option and jumped out at her. She tried to bite me and then went off to sit with her hiccups in a corner. Cat hiccup fail.