Look, it's Christmas, the retail world has gone berserk, the British consumer has gone bonkers and I'm in no mood for jovial banter. I'm having to drag my fingers along the keyboard as we speak.
However, I've decided that my annual festive whinge about, well, festivities of a festive nature, must come to an end. You can just go back and read my Christmas-time blog cerca 2012 and 2013, my feelings haven't changed and I've nothing further to add on the subject. (If you believe that, you'll believe anything!)
So instead, here's what's been on the menu in the daily grind of the lives of my family, and other animals.
Me: "What did you have for dinner at school today Teddy?"
Teddy: "Pork lion and chips."
Note to self, ask teacher is Teddy is displaying any other signs of childhood dyslexia and, if not, report the school catering service to the WWF.
I'm dyslexic but did quite well in my O' Levels (well, when a B was a good grade, those were the days eh!?) and launched myself into the Sixth Form studying Economics, French and English Literature.
After a full year of wasting my teachers' time, my French had not progressed past ordering a cheese and ham toastie and I still didn't have a clue what Economics actually was.
The only good thing about Economics was the size of the text books.
One day while babysitting my friend's younger brothers, a mahoooosive spider decided to wander by the table where I doing my homework (and, well, largely still sat wondering what Economics was all about).
Being arachnophobic as well as dyslexic, I found that one of my Economics text books finally had a purpose in life (or should I say, in death).
Speaking of babysitters, our own babysitter proved to be just as resourceful the other day when he locked himself in our downstairs toilet.
However, I've decided that my annual festive whinge about, well, festivities of a festive nature, must come to an end. You can just go back and read my Christmas-time blog cerca 2012 and 2013, my feelings haven't changed and I've nothing further to add on the subject. (If you believe that, you'll believe anything!)
So instead, here's what's been on the menu in the daily grind of the lives of my family, and other animals.
Me: "What did you have for dinner at school today Teddy?"
Teddy: "Pork lion and chips."
Note to self, ask teacher is Teddy is displaying any other signs of childhood dyslexia and, if not, report the school catering service to the WWF.
I'm dyslexic but did quite well in my O' Levels (well, when a B was a good grade, those were the days eh!?) and launched myself into the Sixth Form studying Economics, French and English Literature.
After a full year of wasting my teachers' time, my French had not progressed past ordering a cheese and ham toastie and I still didn't have a clue what Economics actually was.
The only good thing about Economics was the size of the text books.
One day while babysitting my friend's younger brothers, a mahoooosive spider decided to wander by the table where I doing my homework (and, well, largely still sat wondering what Economics was all about).
Being arachnophobic as well as dyslexic, I found that one of my Economics text books finally had a purpose in life (or should I say, in death).
Speaking of babysitters, our own babysitter proved to be just as resourceful the other day when he locked himself in our downstairs toilet.
While my two sons wet themselves laughing at him from the other side of the door, emptied the sweet tin and watched half an hour of porn, the babysitter finally used his initiative and employed my best eyebrow tweezers to undo the screws on the door handle mechanism and remove it, in its entirety.
And speaking of FaceBook.... OK, so I wasn't actually speaking about FaceBook but I have completely no suitable segue so I'm just winging it.
I recently saw a post regarding the sale of a hoodie aimed at bra-burning divorcees proclaiming heroine status and bearing the printed on words, "Happily divorced, never make the same mistake!"
I have ordered one, but decided to personalise it. On the reverse mine reads:
"Oops, I did it again."
And speaking of tasteless slogans (ah, see, the segue works this time), I've just bought myself a Toyota Aygo despite last month's Go Fun Yourself! blog rant AND went even further by buying my son an item of Hollister clothing DESPITE the poster above the rail bearing the letters WTF?
Dear advertising executives, please think outside the box and ditch the bad language. There must be people out there with fresh ideas in their heads rather than just blindly following the Simon Cowell-style theory that controversy creates headlines and headlines create sales / audience growth and therefore any publicity is good publicity. Or am I being too optimistic?
I'm worried that my social rant has stepped into the realm of my professional opinion and therefore I will continue this 'debate' on my PR business blog over at www.deadlines-pr.co.uk.
So to round off withdewrespect-style, WTF, let's just use a picture of a fit chap with a surfboard.
Dear advertising executives, please think outside the box and ditch the bad language. There must be people out there with fresh ideas in their heads rather than just blindly following the Simon Cowell-style theory that controversy creates headlines and headlines create sales / audience growth and therefore any publicity is good publicity. Or am I being too optimistic?
I'm worried that my social rant has stepped into the realm of my professional opinion and therefore I will continue this 'debate' on my PR business blog over at www.deadlines-pr.co.uk.
So to round off withdewrespect-style, WTF, let's just use a picture of a fit chap with a surfboard.
