Twos Up

Mention twos up to a homosexual and the instant thought that goes through their mind is probably one that involves double penetration .  In this case all salaciousness can be left with your coat at the door and think only of this being the second day of my blogging history.

I'm having a sleepless night it would seem for a few reasons, but mainly due to my feet deciding that the wee small hours is the time for their performance of Michael Flatley's Riverdance epic. As skilled as it may be to shake your legs around like a funkless chicken I have never been a fan of that art form, and even less so at 3:30 am when all I want to do is sleep. Needless to say Dorothy heard the tip tap of the keyboard and has joined me on the sofa to keep me company, although her contribution so far (and will be all night) is to plonk herself down, arse pointing in my direction and snoring with her usual lulling rhythm. 

This blogging thing is new to me and being one who finds it difficult to open up about the intricacies of my life I am coming at it in a clumsy and vague manner.  You will have to forgive me for that sin (or not, your choice) and please bear with me as I develop a style that I feel comfortable with.  Yesterday's short first foray has had me chuckling to myself, and I am going to expand on why.  I have never been a stalking type primarily because I am quite happy in my own company doing my own thing, but having re-read yesterday's efforts at sharing I have a feeling that I may have come across that way to the person who initially told me to give blogging a go. Two of the three topics I wrote about could quite easily have been taken directly from one of their own blogs. It wasn't the politics. Now it's true that dog shit isn't the most interesting thing to write about but we both are the carers of flat faced dogs who have bowel issues.  In this case he's luckier than I since my own dog has had recurring diarrhoea for a few weeks, whereas his Dorothy (YES. Another gay, another Dorothy) is new to him and hasn't quite managed to learn the clean routine yet. As for the zombie thing, I stumbled upon World War Z on Flim4 (TV Channel) last night and I couldn't resist watching Brad Pitt being heroic in the biggest grossing of his movies.  It is in my most humble opinion the best zombie movie ever. My blogging friend watches and extols the virtues of some series called The Walking Dead. I've never seen it, nor would I wear the franchised T shirts that he does. He has a certain style that can only be described as grubby country girl, in Crocs. As much as I like him and admire his joie de vive I am far from wishing to put him in a stalker's trophy cabinet. The point here is that my life was quite dull yesterday, filled only with housework, dog shit causing more housework and perchance my favourite movie from a favourite hunky actor. I am still chuckling.

What will the rest of my day bring? Ordinarily on Saturdays I would meet up with my mother for lunch and shopping (I rarely buy more than milk since online shopping is so much easier physically) but she's having parcel deliveries and cannot guarantee a time.  I'm also having a parcel delivered at some point but will arrange for a neighbour to take it for me. I think I shall go to Chester, or Flint, or maybe both to hunt down some Ecclefechan tarts.  I tried earlier in the week but was at first looked at with wide eyes when I asked an assistant for them.  She assumed I had sworn at her . I explained what they are and how it is spelled before she scurried off to ask a manager who kindly informed me that Christmas stock arrives on the 1st November. If you haven't tried them you should seek them out (or bake some if you are talented).  At the very least it will give the opportunity to use foul language in public. Phonetically Eck-Ull-Feck-Un.  The tart part I am sure you'll all be aware of.  That's whole sum of my schedule so far but if anything noteworthy crops up I may add an addendum, but probably won't.

I'll leave you with a tart to look at.