Tag Archives: funny

My daemon (allegedly)

I have posted this video everywhere else so I may as well post it here too! I first found it on the zooborns blog a couple of days ago (there’s a link to zooborns in my blogroll), and Ian posted it on facebook earlier today too. When HD and I were watching it he said he reckons my Daemon is a sloth. Actually I think he might be right.


Watch and weep

This made me laugh so much the tears were rolling down my face:


It appears that lots of people have had the same idea (there are silent nuns, versions from schools and methodist churches and gay men’s choruses and all sorts) and the same choreography, down even to having a particularly short guy second from right. The one I linked to made me laugh the most, but I think that was probably because it was the first one I’d seen (thanks to Ship of Fools, as these things so often are). The one by St Francis de la Sissies is pretty funny too (search on YouTube, it’ll be there). The whole thing I think reminded me a bit of the monks in the “bring out your dead” scene in “Monty Python and the Holy Grail”.

I recommend you watch one or two people in particular – the guy with “of” second from left, and “and” fourth from left particularly tickled me.

Classic headlines

This made me laugh out loud – link found via ScaryDuck:

York Psychic Museum Closes due to Unforeseen Circumstances. (actually the headline is the best bit)

[It also reminds me of a conversation I had when I left one of my old jobs. One of my colleagues (who was, it has to be said in a very understated way, a bit strange) always claimed at every opportunity* that she was psychic. When I told her I was leaving, she said “I knew it – I’m psychic you know”. I mused about how amazing her psychic powers were, and how sure I was (not) that the fact that I’d been moaning about the job from the day I started and always banging on about how I wanted to leave had nothing whatsoever to do with her premonition. Later that day I was telling a (sensible) colleague about the conversation, and without thinking when I got to the bit where she said “I’m psychic you know” I said “I really should have seen that coming”. To which, of course, the obvious response was “well no, you’re not the psychic one are you?” It’s probably lost a lot in translation, but it was hilarious at the time.]

* ie every time the conversation wasn’t about Coronation Street. And then they wondered why I wanted to leave.


I have a bit of a dilemma, and I really hope I can count on the collective wiblog (and wider) creativity out there in that there cyberspace to help me out here.

I mentioned at the beginning of the year that I would join a dating agency. I’ve just been staying with my friend in London who has strengthened my resolve (she’s just this week got together with someone from an internet dating site), and I think I need to get my act together and just get on with it. Certainly from my previous experience a few years back (and deeleea’s experience more recently) it should provide a fair bit of blog-worthy material, if nothing else.

Anyway, here’s my dilemma. The site I’m going to use requires the use of pseudonyms. Now that’s not normally a problem, I usually just use Jack the Lass wherever, but it occurs to me that if you put “Jack the Lass” into Google, at least half of the first page of results are this blog, and given that a/ I may well blog sporadically about the experience, and b/ I’m not desperate to be identified *that* quickly by potential axe-murderers, I think I’d rather use something a bit more anonymous. The other problem with Googling “Jack the Lass” of course is that the other half of the first page of results are a lesbian rock band from Brighton, which given that this is for a dating site may not give quite the right impression (not that there’s anything wrong with lesbian rock bands from Brighton. Some of my best friends live in Brighton).

So what are the alternatives? I do have a rather funky email name, which isn’t Jack the Lass, but to be honest I don’t want to use that because as it’s such a good and random name that nobody else would think of, I’ve not had a single piece of spam and I really want to keep it that way. So that’s out.

I’ve noticed some people use their name (or some other moniker) followed by their year of birth. Unfortunately my year of birth is ’69, which carries its own, uh, connotations. So probably best not use that one.

And now I’m stuck! All suggestions gratefully received in the comments box at the bottom of this entry. Try to keep them clean! (actually I don’t mind rude ones as long as they make me laugh, and as long as you’re not offended when I don’t use them).


My knee hurts. I blame the hats.

[I fell over after I tripped on my flares when I was walking up some steps whilst hat shopping. I’m such a laydee]

In other news, this week the next lot of essay questions were given out. Already I’ve had a student ask me for advice about his essay plan. If only he knew – talk about the blind leading the blind.

Carry On Retreat

Or, The Retreat that Nearly Wasn’t.

I’m not making this up. I was all of 200 yards away from the monastery when I got to a mini-roundabout half-way up the hill. The roads had been great, but this particular roundabout was icy, and when I went to pull away, my car just wouldn’t go anywhere. I couldn’t get a biting point, there was an ominous burning smell, and all I could think was “oh bugger, my clutch has gone”. I phoned the monastery to see if they could bring a van to tow me, but they didn’t have one, but they gave me phone numbers for some local garages (all of whom were closed, it being 6pm and dark and cold).

At this point a guy who was walking home came over to ask if I was alright, he tried to get the car going and agreed that it was probably the clutch. He helped me get it out of the middle of the roundabout, and then went on his way (he was quite cute and I did think about asking for his phone number, but as I’d already noticed a flicker of “aargh she’s a religious loony” across his face when I’d told him I was aiming for the monastery up the hill I gave that up as a lost cause). I then phoned the AA (my membership has lapsed), planning to rejoin and get a tow from them. So imagine my joy when I got an automated message telling me that because they had had so many callouts from members they weren’t taking new members, but I should call back later when things may have calmed down a bit. At this point I had a little cry, and then over the horizon came three men from the monastery. I have to say I wasn’t in the best of moods at this point so probably wasn’t as cheery as I could have been, but after nearly squashing them (they tried to push me uphill) one of them had a brainwave.

He didn’t think it was a clutch problem, but just that my tyres weren’t happy with the ice. So they pushed me to a flatter bit, and got me to start in 2nd gear so the wheels went round more slowly, and lo and behold, I was on my way. The monastery was 3rd on the right they told me, so I chugged up the hill, turned right, went down a bit of a hill ….. and ended up in someone’s front driveway. As I was reversing out they reappeared to tell me I’d turned right too soon, and as I was heading out my wheels did the same thing again (more burning, more swearing under my breath). But they got me started again, and I managed to get myself into the monastery entrance. What they hadn’t told me was that as soon as you get to the entrance there’s a fork, one goes to the car park and the other goes to a dark dead end round the back of the church. Guess which one I took?

By the time I got myself to the car park they were all laughing at me, I was mortified but relieved that it wasn’t the clutch and I was still there in time for supper (hooray!). It then transpired that my principle rescuer was the Rector of the monastery (cue me worrying that I’d sworn in front of him, but I don’t think I did!). When I told my friend what had happened she asked me if they’d been wearing their habits – sadly not, that would have been too perfect, and I would have overcome embarrassment and taken a picture if they had.

I’ll write tomorrow a bit more about the retreat – what can I say except it was too short – I need to do this in a holiday sometime – but it was lovely while it lasted and has given me quite a bit to think about.

On the way home I picked up some match pots, so I shall report in the next week or so how the walls are looking. Thanks for all the decorating tips, I’ve really enjoyed it and found it much more useful than my previous picking-up-decorating-tips method, which is basically looking into other peoples’ windows from the bus and thinking “I like that” or “oh my what were they thinking?” (actually I’m still doing that too, well if people will switch on lights and not shut their curtains what do they expect? 😉 ).

And I’ve loved the apostrophe debate too, particularly Kate who made me laugh out loud. In fact, being told in this very blog that I’m not Jesus and operate to different rules proved to be quite a lightbulb moment (“aaaahh, so that’s why I don’t always get it!”). For what it’s worth, I seem to remember that Chas has a much better beard than me, so is already considerably further to the front of the queue than me in the “who’s most like Jesus” stakes.