A-D-D?

I'm not sure but I think I have an attention deficit disorder. I see the inside of my brain as a bag of Rowntree Randoms with a compulsive urge to call people monkey face. This is difficult for me as I like things to be tidy and in rows and random doesn't fit in my brain. In the house it's different as I can stack things neatly and can walk away and in most cases come back and they are just how I left them. I say in most cases as I live in a house with two people who have Autism neither of whom have the stacking neatly in rows part! Numbers are important too, I'm not keen on odd numbers. When I wash my hands at work I have to dry them with six sheets of paper towel. I've tried less but it doesn't work and I have to sneak extra ones as if someone is watching me, checking. The stereo/TV volume has to be on an even number, my kids try and wind me up by putting it on an even number but I pretend it doesn't matter then change it when they aren't looking.

Bugger!

I've been distracted and am talking about my obsessive-compulsiveness not my attentionlessness. I spend a lot of time on my own at work, by the nature of the job not because I smell and everyone hates me I must add. I have plenty of time to think and I have great plans during this time, ideas to revolutionise the world or at least a 3 and a half mile radius round my house. My house is number 17 by the way and it isn't a problem that it's an odd number.

Note to self: FUCKING CONCENTRATE!!

So I have these ideas like the bicycle rickshaws instead of taxis idea I had ages ago, did nothing and now the bloody things are popping up all over the place. The problem with that idea was when I first thought of it it was positioned in my brain next to the monkey butlers and consequently the rickshaws had to be ridden by monkeys dressed in dinner jackets. When I said the idea out loud it had its own merits but was a bit unworkable. I had other ideas like the i-pad but that had Pirate issues and was more of an i-patch and came with a free parrot. "Pieces of eight!" Parrots also have even number issues so are okay in my book! Bluetooth was my idea too but that somehow got mixed up with Hollywood and ended up as a dentist porno!

But now I have a new idea! I want to share it with you all and I will as soon as I work out the teething problems and can keep it away from the rubber duck and the plastic saxophone.

Watch this space! Well not this space exactly because that would be stupid and would drive you mental after a few hours. I'll tell you when.

#3 son is a vampire

It's been a bit of an odd week though to have an odd week in this house is quite usual so does two odds make a normal and if so then we had a normal week which is odd which in turn is quite normal. Mmm I'm confused and have lost my train of thought! I keep telling myself not to write the first thing that comes into my head though who would win out of a giant mullet and killer tortoise might have made more sense.
#3 son is a vampire and his vampire friends come round to his room for a secret meeting everyday. Toby is one of them. George might be one too! There is a secret passage into the garden where there is a chest full of money which he used to buy his three screen TV (which has everything on it). He would give me some of his money but it's invisible so quite hard to spend. He doesn't drink blood you know and cant turn into a bat, he's not that type of vampire. Girls aren't allowed in the meetings apart from his mum and Ruby his other mum.
I better go and get him from school, he must be hungry though he doesn't seem keen on garlic at the moment!

I need answers!

I like to answer the bee questions, it's a bit of fun and you make friends. This saves me from latching on to random strangers in the street and following them home. Sometimes they tell the police I'm not their friend and this can become embarrassing.
One thing though, it would be cool if I knew the answer people gave to the bees as I have some questions I would really like the answer to.
Here's a couple; when buying a book on the Internet would you rather have free postage or a discount and pay for the postage? If you knew someone selling something you wanted would you buy it from them even if you had to pay slightly more than if you bought it from a large retailer?
I have an idea in my head that won't go away and I have hundreds of bloody questions but I will stick with these two for the moment. Anyone who has an opinion please leave a comment.Ta!

New begining

I've freshened up the blog and am going to make a conscious effort to blog a little more often that once a year. Note the new widget that Caroline has had made to promote her new book Like Bees to Honey. You can now follow me on twitter, that is if I sign DJ out and don't tweet as her. Widgets and Tweets! Shit I'm getting so bloody technical, next I'll work out how to program the VCR and set the clock on the microwave!

Career choice?

I've just seen a tradesman's van drive past. He is, according to the sign on the aforesaid van, an expert in wall tie replacement and crack stitching.

How do you become a crack stitcher? Why become a crack stitcher? Is there an apprenticeship? Is it something to aspire to?

There are so many things I need to know about crack stitching! Please help!

My Shorts!

Tomorrow I'm getting married! I've spent most of this week washing and ironing (I know I'm going to screw everything up into a suitcase) everything I'm going need while we are away. Today I was checking through to double check everything for the hundredth time and I noticed my shorts were missing. I have a favourite pair, they are blue, comfortable and have lots of pockets that fasten shut so I don't lose all my stuff the moment I sit down.

Where the hell were they?

I looked everywhere at least twice and they were nowhere to be found. I knew I'd washed them because I'd put them in with my jeans (I'd learnt my lesson about mixing colours and whites and turning all her underwear grey!).

I stood for a while looking out of #3 sons bedroom window contemplating the situation, how was I going to get married without my blue shorts? Then I noticed in the neighbours garden a pair of blue shorts that looked just like mine. I raced downstairs and peered over the fence, they were mine, hallelujah! They must have blown off the washing line and into his garden.

I went next door and he wasn't in, bollocks!

I could wait for him to come back but sometimes he isn't around for days. The other option was to climb over the fence and get them myself. The problem with this plan is most of the fence is six foot high and not the most solid thing in the world. Part of it though is four foot tall on top of a two foot wall, this is where I would scale it!

I stood on the wall and tried to throw my leg over, not a chance! Unperturbed I went to the shed for a step ladder, climbed that then swung my leg over. Success! It was a bit of a stretch but I was over and quickly retrieved my shorts, now to get back. I reached over and lifted the ladder into his garden then scaled it swung my leg over the fence and knocked over the ladder. I wasn't worried about that as I'd be able to snag it with something and get it back. What I was worried about though was my leg that was over the fence couldn't quite reach the wall and my trailing leg couldn't squeeze past the fence post which on the return journey was quite a bit proud of the fence.

Fuck I was stuck!!

No time to panic because the fence panel was creaking like a bastard and wasn't long for this life and if it broke neither was I. I flung the shorts into the garden then tried to grab my foot and pull it free from the post and at the same time lower myself down. It wouldn't go! So I gave one huge pull and found myself in a pile on the patio and apart from a cut on my knee no irreparable damage.

I picked up my shorts, gave them a quick hug and chucked them in the washing machine. The only thing is it's pouring with rain now and I'm never going to get them dry by tomorrow!

Murder Mystery!

Oh my, not been on here for a while!

This is my account of an after school conversation with #3 son, he or the cat may dispute some of it but on the whole it is how I remember it.

Me: Cat get out from under my feet!
Cat: Meep!
Me: #3 son can you take your cat with you to watch TV as she is being a pain?
#3 son: Cat! Cat! Cat! Cat! She's not coming!
Me (wishing I hadn't said the words a soon as they came out of my mouth): If she doesn't move soon I'm going to bop her on the head with this wooden spoon.

I brandish said spoon in a provocative manner.

#3 son: Go on do it, do it!
Me quickly backing down: No, that wouldn't be a nice thing to do and it might make her cry.
#3 son: If I hit you on the head with it would you cry?
Me (foolishly): Nope I'd hit you on the head in return.
#3 son: Then I'd cut out your heart and cut it in two!

Now I knew this is where I should stop but something made me carry on.

Me: Then you'd spend an awful long time in jail!
#3 son: No I wouldn't.
Me: Well what do you think the police would say about the dead body with no heart and all the blood over the floor?
#3 son: They won't find it.
Me: How's that?
#3 son: I'd bury it.
Me: Where?
#3 son: I'd dig a big hole in the garden.
Me: And the blood?
#3 son: Mum will help me clear it up.

Now, should I be worried that he has this all worked out or should I laugh it off?

Me: Well what about your brothers?
#3 son: That's okay me and mum will pick them up.
Me: But what would you tell them about me?
#3 son: I'd tell them you were in the graveyard.
Me: Don't you think they would be upset?
#3 son: Well...erm...

I'm making some progress now...

#3 son: I could take your brain out?
Me: What?
#3 son: Instead of cutting your heart in two I could take your brain out!

Here we go again...

Me: How are you going to manage that, haven't you noticed all the bone on my head that protects it?
#3 son: I could break it with a mallet.
Me: A mallet? Do you have a mallet?
#3 son: No but I could buy one.
Me: How much money do you have?

I asked this as I knew he didn't have much money in the house about 30p in a small tin.

#3 son: One million pounds!
Me: Do you know how much a mallet costs?
#3 son: No, how much?
Me: Probably more than you have in that little tin.
#3 son: And how much is that?
Me: About a small bag of sweets worth.
#3 son: No way! At least five bags of sweets.

Ah, I think feeling smug myself as I had inadvertently steered him away from the topic of my impending murder.

#3 son: You know I could always...

I'm not listening now and start hiding anything that looks remotely sharp and/or knife shaped or anything that looks like a mallet!