Quote of the Week

This is from one of my oldies...

"I think our brains are the manure to our hair... As you can see (pointing to his bald head), I don't have a lot of manure..."

Hope you've still got lots of manure :)

Like a Virgin

As I was a part of this very funny conversation, I decided to copy it just as it is from my special random friend's blog.  You can check out the original here.


After a waiter (who calls himself the wine specialist) explained the wine list, in great depth, to the table, he began to get annoyed when he realised the table was probably not going to order any wine. To ease the tension the following comments were made:

Diner 1: I'd like the 2003 virgin.

Diner 2: I think she is a little young.


 I will not confirm whether I was Diner 1 or Diner 2, but most people that know me will draw their own conclusions :)


Ps. Is this how a virgin is suppose to look like?

*Madonna from Like a Virgin

Happy Weekend

Since I already felt on Monday that it was suppose to be Friday, I can only say...

Black Comedy

Word of the Week

Shenanigans

Anything that is wild or over the top, something that is considered crazy.
It's also used to refer to shady dealings or actions that aren't necessarily above-board.

This is a pseudo-Irish word meaning tricky or underhanded behavior, mischief.
Mischief, pranks as at Halloween and at April Fool's Day.

Have you been up to any shenanigans lately?

Vintage Random

I am really following a wide variety of blogs these days.  From latest fashion, to beautiful photography and to just plain random.

I recently started following Letters of Note, an awesome blog that posts letters from novelists or singers or just about anyone that was discovered and that they feel needs recognition.  I absolutely love letters...and even though I love receiving emails and love my blackberry and the communication opportunities (or lack of communication as some people might feel) it gives me, there is absolutely nothing like the feeling of a handwritten letter coming from someone you love.  My grandmother and I used to exchange letters and when I was younger I used to have quite a few pen pals.  Sadly with technology growing, that is one of the things that is really becoming less used.  Why would you write a letter of you can send an email or instant message to someone in just seconds?

But after discovering this blog, I have made a decision to start writing letters again and also maybe to share a letter on my blog every now and then.  We will see how long this resolution lasts, but I've promised my grandmother that she will receive a thick, hand written letter from me soon and intend to keep my promise.

To start off this new feature, I will share a letter from Letters of Note.  This is the most random letter I have ever seen and I cannot believe it happened in the 1800's.

You can see the post for yourself at this link.


In March of 1861, renowned novelist Anthony Trollope sent the following letter to a Miss Dorothea Sankey. To this day, it's unknown whether he was joking.



Waltham House
Waltham Cross

March 24. 1861

My dearest Miss Dorothea Sankey

My affectionate & most excellent wife is as you are aware still living—and I am proud to say her health is good. Nevertheless it is always well to take time by the forelock and be prepared for all events. Should anything happen to her, will you supply her place,—as soon as the proper period for decent mourning is over.

Till then I am your devoted Servant

Anthony Trollope

Grateful

The other day one of our residents passed away.   As always this is tragic, not only to the family and to the people that work here, but also for his fellow residents in the ward.

I was talking to one of the residents outside the ward, when the "graveyard angels" (as I like to call them) came to fetch the body.  They are not very subtle in their job, as they throw this Royal Purple throw over the bodies as they wheel them out and man and mouse knows what's going on.  I tried to stand in front of Mr B, so that he wouldn't see what was happening, but unfortunately I misjudged the size of my body.

Mr B sounding a little bit distressed now:  "From which ward is that dead body?"
OT:  "From your ward, Mr B, I am so..."
Mr B: a big smile spreading over his face  "But I am busy talking to you, so that means...that is not me!"
OT:  "No, it's definitely not you, Mr B"
Another lady from the ward walking by...
Mr B: sounding extremely happy now  "It is not you either!"

I guess even in the gravest of situations, we can always find something to be grateful for...