Oh hells belles, God's teeth

Oh hells belles, God's teeth & chicken bits.

I should say right now that I have no idea what anyone thinks I'm like. That said, I think people think me a generally cheerful kind of a chappie, and if that's the case, then I'm due a wretched rant.

Before I do, I'd like to share a living-life tip that Fran & I use often, when life is a touch off the rails. It's one of those things that brought us together and keeps us together. It doesn't sound great and it doesn't sound sexy, but stick with me. It's this...lists. It must be something along the lines of, "Count your blessings," but more general. Feeling that life is lacking? Rant yourself a list of everything you want. Feeling lost? Rant a list of all the signs and wonders you want the universe to deliver. Do it in trusted company and it's enormously theraputic. Try it! In fact, that's the point - I'll start you off. I'm feeling in a stupid pessamistic funk at the moment, and so here's a list of everything I want sorted:

• I want to move out of Aylesbury.
• I want all this funk with Fran's parents to be resolved.
• I want a pet squirrel (housetrained).
• I want to know if He would, if Janet offered.
• I want broadband, wireless networking and my PC that's been enhanced courtesy of himself
• I want the morning off work, to do very little with.
• I want to find a decent book to get my teeth into, but I might settle for this
• I want my mini.
• I want world peace.
• I also want a good, old-fashioned war.
• I want to watch My Fair Lady, in French.
• I want to go skydivig
• I want to be Batman.
• and
• I want a 6ft plush-toy bear-cum-armchair, to spend my morning off in.

Phew! Much better. Try it out sometime...