What if . . .

8 10 2017

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I Should Not, Under Any Circumstances, Be Allowed More Than Two Alcoholic Beverages…

8 10 2017

This is a wonderfully articulate and whimsical blog that I follow. I recommend that you do too!

Some Words That Say What I Think

I like to think of myself as a sensible, graceful, sophisticated human being and like all sensible, graceful, sophisticated people, I know my limits when it comes to drinking alcohol.

I don’t tend to go out drinking a lot so my tolerance for alcohol is relatively low – on average, I only have to consume two drinks before I start to feel the effects.

Once I have had two drinks, I usually recognise that I have reached my limit and my rational mind prevents me from ingesting any more alcohol in an attempt to preserve my dignity.

However, sometimes, I get cocky.

Sometimes, despite prior evidence to the contrary, I become convinced that my body can cope with a further two units of alcohol.

Sometimes, I have a third drink.

This is the first in a series of stupid decisions.

For me, the process of getting drunk starts with denial.

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Starbucks

7 10 2017

 

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This scenario did not exactly play out, but it might have. My mother has an annoying habit of doing just that – pilfering sugar packets and napkins. Plastic knives and forks, and on one memorable occasion, a lot of free T-shirts hastily given out on the occasion of Prince William’s visit here a few years back. You were allowed one; she lined up multiple times and got about four.

I had just had coffee with her and was waiting by the exit, as she visited the loo etc. Another lady was standing at the exit as well, waiting for a friend. Perhaps inspired by irritation, I remarked, to her,  that that was my mother at the condiment station, shoving napkins into her bag. A glorious sight, to be sure.

The lady then said something that made me burst out laughing. She suggested that maybe she could pretend to be the ‘Starbucks police’ and ‘accost’ my mother at the door. Fortunately, I did not give her the nod, and we shared a laugh at such a scene playing out. I did tell my mother of this little incident and she thought it was the height of hilarity. She may be many things but she doesn’t lack a sense of humour.

I can’t say I am entirely guiltless – our kitchen drawer is jam-packed with (cough) souvenirs. At least (trying to justify my actions) I make an effort to be surreptitious about it. My mother makes zero effort at concealment of her actions, to the point that I think she is daring someone to say something.

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More Things We SAY We Did in Childhood

5 10 2017

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Roulette

3 10 2017

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Where do you see yourself in. . .

1 10 2017

I usually enter the New Yorker caption contest – the one where a captionless cartoon is presented, and readers must come up with a clever/funny caption for it. It is voted on, by readers and staff, and a winner is chosen. They receive thousands of submissions. Thousands, which must be sifted through, and collated as: FUNNY/SOMEWHAT FUNNY/NOT FUNNY. I think I know which category they receive the most of.

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I enjoy the exercise of brainstorming, and coming up with captions that match the scenario presented in the cartoon. It taxes the creative side of my brain nicely, if nothing else. I then submit it and check in two weeks to see if my caption won. This would then fulfill a lifelong dream of having a cartoon of mine (sort of) appearing in The New Yorker.

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Imagine my surprise when I saw that my caption was selected (and ultimately won) one week! The scenario: The great Sphinx is inside a typical office, before a man at a desk who is saying something, typical job interview cliche. My caption: WHERE DO YOU SEE YOURSELF IN 20,000 YEARS. I won! Yup. However, someone had submitted the exact same caption. Even that exact number. I had read what I thought was my caption, and in my excitement, did not notice that it was submitted by a lady in California. The injustice of it issued a low pressure system that remained in my brain pan for a few days. Prevailing breezes of sense made me gradually come to the realization that they had obviously come across that person’s submission first, thus negating any similar or exact copies.

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You’re right. It DOES feel better to sit.

I’ll still submit now and then – I’m not THAT jaded. I love the gag cartoon format too much for that. Ever since I was a kid I’d zoom to the Saturday colour comics, my highlight of the week. That might explain a lot, given my lack of smarts in world affairs.

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Ever since you got the romper you never want to stand stiffly in the corner with me anymore.

 





Backing Up

30 09 2017

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