tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34143042024-03-07T08:57:40.092+00:00Sparky's Diary (www.SparkysDiary.com)<small>Trials, Tribulations & Tall Tales in the life of Half a man Well past his sell by date with Stories based on my Daily 'Incidents', Rants & a 'smidge' of Naughtiness. <br>Written <i>with a touch of Creative Licence & Tourettes</i> in a way once described as <i>"Like Watching him fall Downstairs"</i></small>
<br><small><b>Site Content Copyrighted & Without Prejudice</b></small>SparkysDiary (WhatWindsMeUp)http://www.blogger.com/profile/08374244328169664854noreply@blogger.comBlogger149125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3414304.post-997633915849031282016-09-27T22:11:00.006+01:002016-09-27T22:11:56.117+01:00Be Brave Daddy<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Well, I tried to be brave tonight,</div>
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<br />My daughter was tidying her room (pit)<br />And said there was a spider,<br />I assumed that it was a small, but scary one, so I got the hoover & tube out<br />Went it, had the tube extended, daughters finger on the on/off button,<br />Asked where it was<br /><strong><em>"There" </em></strong>she said, <strong><em>"under there.."</em></strong><br />I looked, and saw a leg, that looked ALOT bigger than she'd intimated,</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZZOThTm9enQLvFpSZ7SBaskpRohG3WesREvzrG5FY1cE0wJvn3g4Z5WVDjee8LHa_HAumL4coWiXZ0djG8HLpO0WMHKXodmCaj6LbhV4QInIKwkBxVpvwcvqtnoDH_HBJdvdE/?imgmax=9999" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="198" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZZOThTm9enQLvFpSZ7SBaskpRohG3WesREvzrG5FY1cE0wJvn3g4Z5WVDjee8LHa_HAumL4coWiXZ0djG8HLpO0WMHKXodmCaj6LbhV4QInIKwkBxVpvwcvqtnoDH_HBJdvdE/?imgmax=9999" width="320" /></a>So I got ready, deep breaths mark, deep breaths..<br /><em><strong>"Be brave Daddy, be Brave!" </strong></em><br />Then.. I Said to her,<br /><strong><em>"When I say, press the button!"<br />"Ok dad"<br />"GO!"</em></strong></div>
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I shoved it under where the spider was,<br />She turned the hoover on,<br />Then I saw it..<br />It.. was.. the size.. of a <u><strong>BUS</strong>!!</u><br />She turned off the hoover and ran.. RAN!!<br />My own daughter abandoned me and I was defenceless!</div>
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<strong>F*cking Hell</strong> <em>(sorry mum)</em> <strong>it was MASSIVE!!</strong><br />
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It started scurrying like Usain Bolt<br />I SWEAR TO GOD, it pushed a bedroom cupboard over (nearly) and am sure the house leaned to one side!!!</div>
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I turned the hoover on again and managed to suck it up the hose,<br />
<br />I SHIT YOU NOT... it was like a fireman's hose thrashing around until it stopped...<br />
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Dead... </div>
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I hope,<br />And now I throw the hoover out the window, and buy a new one!</div>
SparkysDiary (WhatWindsMeUp)http://www.blogger.com/profile/08374244328169664854noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3414304.post-34058859573571703802016-05-19T21:09:00.001+01:002016-05-19T21:09:56.966+01:00Walnut Whip<div>So, as you know, I'm half on one of these "milk-shake" diets at the moment, and after reading this weeks "markisms" you'll know that:</div><div><br></div><div>a) I have 3rd degree scalding water burns all over by hands & face from cleaning my "shaker" with hot water (that's not some sort of "in your endo" euphemism by the way)</div><div><br></div><div>..and</div><div><br></div><div>b) I'm not allowed in the works kitchen anymore..</div><div><br></div><div>Well, I'm getting major sugar cravings now, and the wife (Louise) just clocked me having a sneaky "Walnut Whip"</div><div><br></div><div>...I figured if I was having one, I may as well go for Gold!!</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzWKiPnQKbWYOk6PojiErNc_47GqpBV1G_7HZQUEwBDBBnVKnxq1tr890VEkR9mK3UFvNM3FB9oPqB4BRr22-4horaqU9qa-RvExc_tlKZVQ_llhgVjewMl3LhgC-6iKSh4GEH/s640/blogger-image-790490158.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzWKiPnQKbWYOk6PojiErNc_47GqpBV1G_7HZQUEwBDBBnVKnxq1tr890VEkR9mK3UFvNM3FB9oPqB4BRr22-4horaqU9qa-RvExc_tlKZVQ_llhgVjewMl3LhgC-6iKSh4GEH/s640/blogger-image-790490158.jpg"></a></div><br></div>SparkysDiary (WhatWindsMeUp)http://www.blogger.com/profile/08374244328169664854noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3414304.post-64558386518531685832016-05-17T15:02:00.005+01:002016-05-18T11:51:49.243+01:00Well.. I didn't see that coming!Started having these liquid "shake" lunches, and just come to the kitchen to clean it..<br>
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I'd forgotten what a colleague had told me <u>NOT</u> to do when cleaning them, and well.. did it anyway..</div>
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Filled it half full of BOILING water,</div><div>put the springy agitator back in,</div><div>screwed the lid on,</div><div>pressed down the drinking cap</div><div><br></div>
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..and shook it like a bartender making a cocktail...</div>
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<strong><em>"Ooh, that's warm"</em></strong> I thought as I popped the lid..</div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><u>BOOM!!!</u></b></span></div>
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The content shot out <span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">like a 70's Porn star, o</span>ver everything, Me, the sink and windows!!
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SparkysDiary (WhatWindsMeUp)http://www.blogger.com/profile/08374244328169664854noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3414304.post-19149047849683876892016-03-01T10:54:00.003+00:002016-03-01T10:55:01.400+00:00Pre-Op<b><u>Tuesday 1st. March 2016</u></b><br />
<br />
So....<br />
just been to Hospital for my "Pre-Op", in readiness for knee operation on Saturday,<br />
now... (and I wont go into details)<br />
<br />
On arrival, I'm asked "<i>Have you brought your urine sample?</i>"<br />
which I wasn't aware I needed to bring, to which a teeny, teeny, TINY bottle is shoved into my hand and I'm gestured towards the loo..<br />
and <i>(as you may know)</i> I'm EXTREMELY Bladder shy.. Public toilets, Airplanes and Trains are Murder, cant squeeze out a drop if I know someone's within 50 feet of me,<br />
so APPROXIMATELY an hour later, I manage to bring back hat can only be described as a 'tear-drop'<br />
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<i>(thank god I wasnt at the fertility clinic!)</i><br />
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Pass this to the nurse, doing my checks, etc.. and then passed into another room, to be seen by someone else (I'd assumed the surgeon)<br />
I sits in chair, next to door, when it WHISKS open (narrowly missing my head) to which the attendee goes into panic about, thinking she'd nearly killed me<br />
I 'jokingly' said <i>"ooh, where there's Blame there's a Claim"</i><br />
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<b><log silent stare></b></div>
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<i>"I was joking...."</i><br />
(unfortunately I think that then set the tone for the remainder of the appointment)<br />
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All the way through checking my lungs, heart etc. <i>(not quite sure why she asked me to bend, over though?? perhaps I went into the wrong room?!)</i><br />
she then starts off on a Tirade of abuse about operations at the weekend (a mine is on Saturday)<br />
how its raping the NHS of money, paying private surgeons to do weekend operations<br />
etc etc etc<br />
NOW... don't get me wrong, am absolutely in admiration of Doctors, Nurses and the British NHS and despise the government(s) that have ruined it for the last 20+ years,<br />
however...<br />
its not MY fault that the operation is happening on Saturday, it was supposed to be a Friday?!?<br />
once I explained this to her, she seemed to calm down<br />
<i>"phew"</i><br />
I then asked her <i>"are you the surgeon that will be doing my knee?"</i><br />
thankfully, she said No...<br />
<br />
I had visions of her being mid-way through the procedure, really seeing her arse<br />
and shouting <b><i>"Power to the NHS!" while deftly cutting off my balls!"</i></b><br />
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<br />SparkysDiary (WhatWindsMeUp)http://www.blogger.com/profile/08374244328169664854noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3414304.post-29330874226605443542016-01-08T21:55:00.001+00:002016-01-08T22:07:52.715+00:00Dad... What ya doin??Today's Markism:<div>(8th. January 2016)</div><div><br></div><div>So... Had been to the "loo" and just wrapping up (so to speak) albeit my trousers were still around my ankles, when my NEW glasses, decided to "Acapulco cliff dive" from my head, downwards towards the toilet..</div><div><br></div><div>Now (being an ex-navy seal) my stealth like reaction 'just' managed to divert the glasses from their impending dive into "soup" glancing them off the toilet rim,</div><div><br></div><div><b><i>"Phew!" </i></b></div><div><br></div><div>Was my reaction...</div><div>However, it was shortlived, as from the corner of my eye, a tiny part of said glasses (one of the nose pads) dropped again, bounced around, then..</div><div><br></div><div><b>"Plink!"</b> </div><div><br></div><div>Straight Into the water...</div><div><br></div><div><b><i>"SHITTTTT!!"</i></b></div><div><br></div><div>Just as I was about to start reciting 'Shakespearinan Swearing For Dummies' I heard a teeny, tiny voice behind me..</div><div><br></div><div><i><b>"Dad?? What ya doin?"</b></i></div><div><br></div><div>I must have been a sight, stood there, Ass cheeks out, trousers round my ankles, swearing like a trooper and Glaring at the toilet....</div><div><br></div><div><i>(My 8 year old, probably scarred for life, and lined up for years of counselling)</i></div><div><br></div><div>Could have been worse, It's not like I was 'cracking one off or anything'</div><div><br></div><div><b><i>"Sorry Hun, Daddy needs some alone time, please go back downstairs"</i></b></div><div><br></div><div>So... I ask myself...</div><div>Are these New glasses THAT important to me, that I need to Violate my hand by "fishing" around in the soup that's in there....</div><div><br></div><div>Well, looking at the remaining nose pad, it would appear to be fairly proprietory, so I figure, I better had..</div><div><br></div><div>(Flash forwards)</div><div><br></div><div>Nose pad (and hand) cleaned etc</div><div>And put back into the glasses, but... </div><div>Nope.. Won't stay in,</div><div>It's broke!!</div><div><br></div><div><b><i style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">"OH... FFS!!"</i></b></div><div><br></div><div>I've just left my daughter with a memory that will haunt her into her teens, disgusted myself by "toilet fishing" and the bloody glasses are STILL knackered!! </div><div><br></div><div>What The Hell????</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU0Pe_3Gx3lrKbASxYjsJxGpys2kePn901DumGeaAL7P1OkblxJZahqovOu5-8UpVROUtoU_riPAFVR0-wWSdk3yGhjm42j6mbZK81qPejEa9WlKmi8za_jVnkGGLBS9zbFyFQ/s640/blogger-image--1241325311.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU0Pe_3Gx3lrKbASxYjsJxGpys2kePn901DumGeaAL7P1OkblxJZahqovOu5-8UpVROUtoU_riPAFVR0-wWSdk3yGhjm42j6mbZK81qPejEa9WlKmi8za_jVnkGGLBS9zbFyFQ/s640/blogger-image--1241325311.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><br></div>SparkysDiary (WhatWindsMeUp)http://www.blogger.com/profile/08374244328169664854noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3414304.post-75081734166174016932016-01-03T15:51:00.001+00:002016-01-03T15:51:37.905+00:00Back seat driver<div>Today is one of the first times in ages that I've been a passenger in the back of my own car</div><div>This VW Golf was ONCE my pride & joy, when it was new; that was before:</div><div><br></div><div>-The youngest christened it with puke on its maiden day out, </div><div>-The eldest broke off the rear drinks holders (now long since lost) swapping seats with his mates </div><div>-Various fluids spilled in the back footwells and leaking bottles left on the back seats</div><div>-Looking like some kidnap victim has been clawing at the inner mouldings on the doors</div><div>-brown stains on the roof lining like Willy Wonka has exploded on the back seat</div><div>-rubbish in every possible hidey-hole</div><div>-etc etc...</div><div><br></div><div>I think I must actually be the father to 2 Goats and not 2 "angelic" kids</div><div><br></div><div>*humf*</div>SparkysDiary (WhatWindsMeUp)http://www.blogger.com/profile/08374244328169664854noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3414304.post-30065391122231091782016-01-03T15:34:00.001+00:002016-01-03T15:34:27.439+00:00What NOT to do with the wife's hairdryer<div>Today's Markism:</div><div>(20th. July 2015)</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisZcP-SQeIMK3g2-rs59XOkePK0JQmO92u0KzzsHrwVqqKpgRbyRYbU_qiGDRPo0EJmbCOeHqePrStmUCdM_yqb6a9-WK8BMXNdL939rXY75jTRda34mQDGLIUtfFJNFM7J0wl/s640/blogger-image-683236444.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisZcP-SQeIMK3g2-rs59XOkePK0JQmO92u0KzzsHrwVqqKpgRbyRYbU_qiGDRPo0EJmbCOeHqePrStmUCdM_yqb6a9-WK8BMXNdL939rXY75jTRda34mQDGLIUtfFJNFM7J0wl/s640/blogger-image-683236444.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>Just burned my leg and ass-cheek trying to "rapid dry" my jeans with the wife's hairdryer</div><div>WHILE WEARING THEM!</div><div><br></div><div>Air was Bastard hot down the pant leg burning the back of my thigh</div><div>And</div><div>Seemed to get one of the copper studs lava hot which "smarted" when it came into contact with my butt cheek!</div><div><br></div><div>(Not even gonna get into the Hot Spicy Dry Roasted peanuts)</div><div><br></div><div><br></div>SparkysDiary (WhatWindsMeUp)http://www.blogger.com/profile/08374244328169664854noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3414304.post-86491403166358321832016-01-03T15:32:00.001+00:002016-01-03T15:32:22.681+00:00Day 1, hour 1<div>Day 1</div><div>Hour 1</div><div>(Working from home)</div><div><br></div><div>Toaster has blown up</div><div>Blows all fuses in house </div><div><br></div><div>But only after making the kids breakfast.. </div><div>Me?? Nope I'm going hungry</div><div><br></div><div>Kids?? </div><div>Only complaint is the TV keeps going off!</div><div><br></div><div>(30th. July 2015)</div>SparkysDiary (WhatWindsMeUp)http://www.blogger.com/profile/08374244328169664854noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3414304.post-81183243773569989662016-01-03T15:29:00.001+00:002016-01-03T15:30:08.437+00:00Nice shirt!<div>Had a "stain" incident in the office kitchen today, then while wiping the wall I brought the paint off with it!</div><div>Am sure none of you are surprised?</div><div>Day had already started badly as I'd spilled coffee down my front.. And all down the stairs (which I THOUGHT I'd cleanup up.. But apparently not, so I'll have another go at cleaning that up tomorrow along with a repaint)</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAfyB8xz0zkklPRYHzYStx83HYxHNKFuDJmJEWjHvJjtbSe4MQhFDmybFaGoS8tkBjcME2KKXmES2Gd_3bTbPxCoqda7yLzcovYDqG2zrrs9HwvNG6YhitkgIwr8E-OH7lVMaN/s640/blogger-image-286478331.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAfyB8xz0zkklPRYHzYStx83HYxHNKFuDJmJEWjHvJjtbSe4MQhFDmybFaGoS8tkBjcME2KKXmES2Gd_3bTbPxCoqda7yLzcovYDqG2zrrs9HwvNG6YhitkgIwr8E-OH7lVMaN/s640/blogger-image-286478331.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>So, a Classic day really!</div><div>(18th. August 2015)</div>SparkysDiary (WhatWindsMeUp)http://www.blogger.com/profile/08374244328169664854noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3414304.post-6458078223860668702016-01-03T15:24:00.001+00:002016-01-03T15:24:23.314+00:00Coffee to go?<div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Posh coffee machine just went bonkers on me..</span></div><div>£1.50 in</div><div><b><i>Beep beep beep clink</i></b></div><div>Shows £1.00 credit</div><div>Press the money return button</div><div><b><i>Fizz fizz fizz</i></b></div><div>Screen displays "cleaning cycle" and starts pissing water out....</div><div>Then</div><div>£0.00 credit</div><div><br></div><div>Most unhappy!</div><div>:-)</div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">(3rd. September 2015)</span></div>SparkysDiary (WhatWindsMeUp)http://www.blogger.com/profile/08374244328169664854noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3414304.post-85458173513241561482016-01-03T15:22:00.001+00:002016-01-03T15:22:32.376+00:00Is it bath time already?<div>Today's Markism:</div><div>(8th. September 2015)</div><div><br></div><div>Working from home, and subconsciously for last hour or so I've been scratching my left thigh this it's now red raw..</div><div><br></div><div>So takes meeself to the bath room to put some E45 cream on, left leg up onto toilet seat (in a manly way, not at all like a lady shaving her legs or anything) lean down to right to reach for E45 tub, back up, </div><div><i>"ooh dizzy" </i></div><div><br></div><div>...fall into bath!</div>SparkysDiary (WhatWindsMeUp)http://www.blogger.com/profile/08374244328169664854noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3414304.post-42875115422639980232016-01-03T14:26:00.001+00:002016-01-03T14:27:17.800+00:00WhiteWash<div>Markism:</div><div>(8th. December 2015)</div><div><br></div><div>Thought I was being clever by putting washing up liquid in the washing machine (as I'd run out of detergent)</div><div>Only to notice a box of the "gel packs" on top Of microwave, just.. As I notice the washing machine appears to be full of a Winter Blizzard...</div><div><br></div><div>#GoLieDownMark<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7nwdN_zZ8DHtjHHlJISn8XmHnJX-43O70x_UaLGGFEE8Wtl-1NS03bzVwAyYZ0EnMprZ7EMTvPYjK1WpCQVFhslffSlb02mn1_7VCAiz3Bc7bJSxvSUIqQOPPYzTy_oHEZsvp/s640/blogger-image-518177867.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7nwdN_zZ8DHtjHHlJISn8XmHnJX-43O70x_UaLGGFEE8Wtl-1NS03bzVwAyYZ0EnMprZ7EMTvPYjK1WpCQVFhslffSlb02mn1_7VCAiz3Bc7bJSxvSUIqQOPPYzTy_oHEZsvp/s640/blogger-image-518177867.jpg"></a></div></div>SparkysDiary (WhatWindsMeUp)http://www.blogger.com/profile/08374244328169664854noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3414304.post-49189572513703758152016-01-03T13:58:00.001+00:002016-01-03T13:58:57.929+00:00Lord of my Ring<div>(16th. December 2015)</div><div><br></div><div>So the wife's just said to me..</div><div><br></div><div><i>"Mark.. Go and bang your ring on the kitchen window, that always gets Fudge In"</i></div><div><br></div><div>(Long pause followed my much "snot bubble" laughter)</div><div><br></div><div>What you need to know is:</div><div><br></div><div><b>"Banging my ring" </b></div><div>means tapping my wedding ring on the window frame</div><div>& </div><div><b><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">"Fudge" </span></b>is one of the cats, that's usually attracted to the "tapping" noise</div><div><br></div><div>..honest!</div>SparkysDiary (WhatWindsMeUp)http://www.blogger.com/profile/08374244328169664854noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3414304.post-64125751684338081102016-01-03T13:51:00.001+00:002016-01-03T13:51:45.635+00:00Tongue tornado<div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic9rJwair93BGDhm9CvucL-dT290eSGmju0TSWsEagxgS-rhFiBESzmIqGyYjhVTWievNaJl83aLCYWPBec4yxBL_iPfLy2zesF1vfryH7ic6_ocx8qLUqo9VBWU4j6CsiGycR/s640/blogger-image--1746818124.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic9rJwair93BGDhm9CvucL-dT290eSGmju0TSWsEagxgS-rhFiBESzmIqGyYjhVTWievNaJl83aLCYWPBec4yxBL_iPfLy2zesF1vfryH7ic6_ocx8qLUqo9VBWU4j6CsiGycR/s640/blogger-image--1746818124.jpg"></a></div><br></div>Today's Markism..</div><div>(18th. December 2015)</div><div><br></div><div>Wifey is out and left some of these tee-lights burning,</div><div>Well.. This one started smoking, so I motioned over, saw the wick was all that was left but glowing and smoking</div><div>Finger in mouth, licky finger and Dabby dab dab..</div><div><br></div><div>However, glowing wick came off on said finger and in blind PANIC, rather than doing.. Well.. ANYTHING ELSE</div><div><br></div><div>I touched the glowing wick (on my finger) to my tongue!</div><div><br></div><div>*SCREECH*</div>SparkysDiary (WhatWindsMeUp)http://www.blogger.com/profile/08374244328169664854noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3414304.post-22903011468422976562016-01-03T13:49:00.001+00:002016-01-03T13:52:40.075+00:00Bag of Ass<div>(20th. December 2015)</div><div><br></div><div>Well..</div><div>I obviously have a strange look about me while wandering round ASDA..</div><div>Just asked one of the attendants where the "bag of ice" might be</div><div>She replied back to me with a horrified look </div><div><b><i>"you want a bag of Ass??"</i></b></div><div><br></div><div>(Big sigh)</div>SparkysDiary (WhatWindsMeUp)http://www.blogger.com/profile/08374244328169664854noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3414304.post-51509563761673701112016-01-03T13:48:00.001+00:002016-01-03T13:50:35.937+00:00Death of a Thousand Pricks<div>Tonight's Markism:</div><div>(Christmas Eve, 2015)</div><div><br></div><div>Wifey & the kids have been to church "Kriss Kringle" service, it's not something I go to, as I'm not particularly religious (that'll come and bit me in the ass when I try to get through those pearly gates) and also while the kids are out of the way, I get to "organise" some of tomorrow morning,</div><div>Anyhoo... Back to my injury!</div><div><br></div><div>Part of the tradition is for the kids to make one of these orange candle thingies, using candles, sweets, from ribbon, cocktail sticks, pins (for the ribbon) & an orange..</div><div><br></div><div>So they all arrived home, I was in the kitchen tidying up and sing the kitchen tee-towel</div><div>Some time later, I had need of said tee-towel, grabbed it, and then SHRIEKED in pain!!!</div><div><br></div><div>Dropping the towel, a myriad of inch long "needles of death" sprinkled all over the kitchen floor</div><div><br></div><div>However..</div><div><br></div><div>About FIVE of the F*cking things didn't,</div><div>WHY?</div><div>Oh.. because they were embedded in my Bloody thumb and Palm, sticking out like a Shitting porcupine!!</div><div><br></div><div>Much swearing and stomping around the kitchen ensued along with accusations at each member of my family in an attempt to find out which BASTARD would do something like that to me!!</div><div><br></div><div>Yes.. I took it personally!!</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp3UFgYig2Nw4EXw820QSwZtZSh4EbiPSs_363auzlWlfrqnee33__tyk4usaUAKkCGPuJShjVsYx6oeZVfKGAddWnPYOrke5V6avGSDMyAEmxE3s3IV1wt1s0CHu7Abz3djYb/s640/blogger-image-492255354.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp3UFgYig2Nw4EXw820QSwZtZSh4EbiPSs_363auzlWlfrqnee33__tyk4usaUAKkCGPuJShjVsYx6oeZVfKGAddWnPYOrke5V6avGSDMyAEmxE3s3IV1wt1s0CHu7Abz3djYb/s640/blogger-image-492255354.jpg"></a></div><br></div>SparkysDiary (WhatWindsMeUp)http://www.blogger.com/profile/08374244328169664854noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3414304.post-66721572937449677492016-01-03T10:49:00.001+00:002016-01-03T10:49:07.553+00:00Pandoras Box<div>Today's Markism:</div><div><br></div><div>Ok, so am in McDonalds with the kids, I'm eating "stodge" cos I have a shitty cold, coughing & sneezing etc etc...</div><div><br></div><div>Just took a mouthful of sausage & egg Mcmuffin, with BBQ sauce when that "sneezing" feeling comes..</div><div><br></div><div>Ah, ah, ah</div><div><grab the totally fucking useless McNapkins></div><div>Ah, ah, ah</div><div><oh come on!!></div><div><br></div><div>KA'SNEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEZZZZZZZZZ!!!</div><div><br></div><div>Sausage & egg McMuffin everywhere (napkin about as useful as a chocolate teapot)</div><div>And...</div><div>SHIT LOADS OF BBQ SAUCE UP INTO MY NOSTRILS</div><div>AGONY</div><div>BURNING</div><div>DEATH</div><div>HELL</div><div>PANDORAS BOX OPEN... Everywhere!</div>SparkysDiary (WhatWindsMeUp)http://www.blogger.com/profile/08374244328169664854noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3414304.post-54763114141930295942015-10-25T13:42:00.001+00:002015-10-25T13:42:14.547+00:00Brass Tacks..<div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Very, very DEEP breath & check ones trousers moment there..</span></div><div>Hanging pictures back up after our recent bout of re-decorating, and I just had a proper, PROPER "Shit myself" moment...</div><div><br></div><div>Up a ladder, hanging picture over stairs,</div><div><br></div><div>I had 4 brass tacks for the picture hanger.....</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0Zi_40qXop9QgMzd9OBCsSjAxB-pslylk0nXwYTckYv63NHovdFkixLe1rXAiVgS6O90wMvBPK6PKomKeWcF3CBbtPb6wEsQHPbFgepL8fRc1wZUp845rWKD2UZbFLfY83xCU/s640/blogger-image-626687978.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0Zi_40qXop9QgMzd9OBCsSjAxB-pslylk0nXwYTckYv63NHovdFkixLe1rXAiVgS6O90wMvBPK6PKomKeWcF3CBbtPb6wEsQHPbFgepL8fRc1wZUp845rWKD2UZbFLfY83xCU/s640/blogger-image-626687978.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><br></div><div>And due to this taking much longer than it should I sort of lost count of the brass tacks that I had IN MY MOUTH..</div><div><br></div><div>1 "tap tap"</div><div>2 "tap tap"</div><div>3 "tap tap"</div><div><br></div><div>Annnnd... </div><div>4 err... Where's tack number 4</div><div>Panic set in...</div><div>Where the F*ck is tack number 4??</div><div><br></div><div>Convinced I'd swallowed it,</div><div>Who do you call??</div><div>who do I call first??</div><div>Panic, panic</div><div><br></div><div>Do I go to hospital, after they laugh (surely they've seen this before) what happens?</div><div>It's brass so it won't rust?</div><div>Do I have to have an operation?</div><div>Do I have to check my turds with a knife, fork & magnet for next week?</div><div><br></div><div>(Manly telly tubby moment running up & down stairs)</div><div>Start gagging Mark, cough, cough dammit!</div><div><br></div><div>How do you do a self "Heimlich"</div><div>What to do</div><div>What to do</div><div>Should I run to a neighbour?</div><div>No Mark, your 46 not 12!!</div><div><br></div><div>Then..... PHEW!!!!</div><div>There it is, Under tongue...</div><div>Deeeeeep breaths Mark, deep breaths...</div><div><br></div><div>Now.. </div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div>Do I Sit down, or change trousers??</div>SparkysDiary (WhatWindsMeUp)http://www.blogger.com/profile/08374244328169664854noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3414304.post-31254608415470124072015-05-05T19:30:00.001+01:002015-05-05T19:30:32.776+01:00It's Pissing it Down!<p dir="ltr">So..<br>
I pulls up outside Judo<br>
It's PISSING it down, I tell the boy to leg it inside <u>when</u> some clown stops me (from the comfort of his nice, warm, dry car) to mither me about parking for football<br>
"This is Penketh High School isn't it cos that sign says it is?"<br>
yes (I gotta go it's raining)<br>
"Is the football here?"<br>
I don't know I'm here for judo it's raining!<br>
"Is the football on in this weather?"<br>
I don't know but it's raining and I gotta go!<br>
"Do I know where pitch A is?"</p>
<p dir="ltr">I DON'T KNOW BUT IT'S PISSING DOWN IF YOU HADN'T NOTICED SO PISS OFF!</p>
SparkysDiary (WhatWindsMeUp)http://www.blogger.com/profile/08374244328169664854noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3414304.post-418624699761887542015-04-18T21:09:00.001+01:002015-04-18T21:09:43.639+01:00Wall mounted Tv<p dir="ltr">So...<br>
I've mounted the daughters tv on the wall of her bedroom today along with a new shelf and 2 walls worth of tv aerial cabling nicely hidden inside skirting board trunking and a big bastard cupboard, unfortunately, but not to be unexpected, this... was a Shit as it was all fed into the trunking before realising I'd used a 5 metre cable (too short) so all had to be undone so I could do it again with the 10 metre instead.</p>
<p dir="ltr">Then had to take the TV back off the wall and re mount about a foot lower as the daughter pointed out "Daddy??? I can't really see the program properly when lying on bed!"</p>
<p dir="ltr">(Note to self: check that before mounting the TV if I do this again) as such... I have some holes to fill tomorrow..</p>
<p dir="ltr">All... youll be surprised, pretty much without incident <br>
i.e.<br>
No water damage, <br>
No gaping "fist size" holes (just 3 tiny ones) and No electric shocks!</p>
<p dir="ltr">Only accident(s) were:</p>
<p dir="ltr">*) Taking about 5 hours instead of 2<br>
*) Losing the skin off a knuckle with the metal part of the aerial cable (don't ask),<br>
*) Standing on all sorts of lethal objects that I'd put down in the stupidest of places (Cos her bedroom looked like a tool shed for most of the afternoon)<br>
*) Stabbing myself in the palm of my hand with a sharp pointy screwdriver that's meant to make pilot holes in the wall (not me)</p>
SparkysDiary (WhatWindsMeUp)http://www.blogger.com/profile/08374244328169664854noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3414304.post-78771977493138381042015-02-07T08:33:00.001+00:002015-02-07T08:33:44.579+00:00Kitchen Judo<p dir="ltr">Note to Self:</p>
<p dir="ltr">When talking thru various moves with the boy in preparation for his first Judo tournament..</p>
<p dir="ltr">The kitchen is NOT the best place to practice leg sweeps..</p>
<p dir="ltr">Breakfast juice, toast,plates and milk gets everywhere!</p>
SparkysDiary (WhatWindsMeUp)http://www.blogger.com/profile/08374244328169664854noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3414304.post-11524812977091144552014-12-22T22:04:00.001+00:002014-12-22T22:05:50.037+00:00Bah Humbug..<p dir="ltr">Bah Humbug!</p>
<p dir="ltr">Had a madly destructive day!<br>
After being pissed around in my doctors chemists as they'd lost my prescription then made I'm out that if I'd come and picked it up on Friday then they wouldn't have lost it?!<br>
<i>What.. the.. f*ck?!</i><br>
<i>How the Hell's that my fault?</i></p>
<p dir="ltr">Then went to chippy with the kids and waited 20 mins for my fish after they'd forgotten to put it in, to then be told when I complain that the chips they'd already wrapped would be cold but I should have told them not to wrap until they'd done the fish!</p>
<p dir="ltr"><i>Err . I don't f*cking think so - fresh ones please!</i></p>
<p dir="ltr">I get home and the replacement chips are also cold! <br>
Put them in the microwave and it goes pop<br>
Blowing all the god damn bastard fuses in the house<br>
Brilliant!</p>
<p dir="ltr">Then as the brats are mithering me incessantly about absolutely Bugger All, the TOP comes off the vinegar all over my food<br>
<b><i>Argh!</i></b> </p>
<p dir="ltr">So...<br>
<i>(Deep breath)</i><br>
Drain all the surplus vinegar off my plate and then look to put in microwave..</p>
<p dir="ltr"><i>Oh of course!!</i><br>
<i>I can't f*cking do that can I? as it's broken!</i></p>
<p dir="ltr">So I fanny about with fuses for a while until the red mist overtakes me and..<br>
Well..<br>
The microwave is defiantly broken now as it's been literally THROWN out into the back yard severely DENTED!<br>
And....</p>
<p dir="ltr"><b><i>Gargh!</i></b> </p>
<p dir="ltr">I then need to get a new microwave off Argos but of course.. I forget...<br>
The magic "charging" elf in my house is ME which means that when everyone else in my house wants to use a tablet or laptop etc they always find them charged..<br>
Me however, no such luck..</p>
<p dir="ltr">And can I find a charging cable that fits?<br>
OF COURSE NOT!<br>
So more deep breaths and then into the car to dispose of old battered microwave, Argos and the mad car parking for all the ass-holes who left they're xmas shopping till the last minute cos of course when it's Christmas the WHOLE F*CKING world shuts down doesn't it?!</p>
<p dir="ltr"><b><i>NO IT BLOODY WELL DOESN'T ASS-HOLES!</i></b></p>
<p dir="ltr">Then last but not least to Boots to drag some poor assistant over the counter whilst yelling <i>"I WANT SOME CALM ME THE F*CK DOWN TABLETS NOW BASTARD!"</i></p>
SparkysDiary (WhatWindsMeUp)http://www.blogger.com/profile/08374244328169664854noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3414304.post-86926849045028713332014-12-17T22:14:00.001+00:002014-12-17T22:14:29.748+00:00Rail Travel<p dir="ltr">Things I've learned travelling on the train to & from Manchester this week:</p>
<p dir="ltr">1) the morning train from St. Helens is never on time. It's been late every day and the tannoy to "apologise for any inconvenience" is recorded. <br>
I wouldn't care, but it only has 3 stops before here?<br>
And.. taking that already late time into account it's even later arriving at Manchester?!</p>
<p dir="ltr">2) People waiting to get on the trains are just rude!<br>
You can see them eying each other up like "The Good The Bad & The Ugly" or like this train is the last cake on the plate, then when they're jostling as the doors open its like the Bloody Oklahoma land race.<br>
<i>ME: Push me and I'll push you back, it's not like I like you anyway?!</i></p>
<p dir="ltr">3) Once on the train, the jostling and barging continues as people fight for a seat; I will quote Ben Elton (not that I like him) and an old sketch "Double seat, Double seat. . Gotta get a double seat "<br>
<i>ME: Again, push me and you'll end up on someone's lap, I still don't like you! AND Oh.. I'm a biter!</i><br>
<i>:-)</i></p>
<p dir="ltr">4) On Sitting, it's then seemingly customary to put their bags or coats on the seat next to them as a "claim" of possession.<br>
<i>ME: Guess what? I don't mind sitting on your coat, or yiur bag so... you really should move it! </i></p>
<p dir="ltr">5) If you do get a seat and your lucky enough to get one with a table, apparently its ok to stretch your legs out as far as you can to make it uncomfortable for the person opposite you.<br>
<i>ME: Move them cos I like to kick!</i></p>
SparkysDiary (WhatWindsMeUp)http://www.blogger.com/profile/08374244328169664854noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3414304.post-51842478955354800712014-06-04T21:28:00.001+01:002014-06-04T22:05:56.125+01:00Age Concerned? Of course!<div dir="ltr">
<b>Todays Markism:</b></div>
<div dir="ltr">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div dir="ltr">
Nearly nudged a lovely old dear past those pearly gates at lunchtime..<br /><i>
(Not physically, that'd just be sick!)</i></div>
<div dir="ltr">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div dir="ltr">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tqruhGhUgNk/U4-KD6XC5xI/AAAAAAAAPDw/ECU-OEW2KP4/s1600/orange-cone-1280x1024.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tqruhGhUgNk/U4-KD6XC5xI/AAAAAAAAPDw/ECU-OEW2KP4/s1600/orange-cone-1280x1024.jpg" height="141" width="200" /></a>Accidentally knocked over one of those giant, Bright Orange "warning: wet floor" cones at ASDA,<br />
Went with a Hell of a <b><i>"BANG!"</i></b> </div>
<div dir="ltr">
Frightened the shit out of the old dear...</div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
I'm blaming the person I was with (Sarah) She knows what I'm like, and she should have guided me out of its way, am sure the Bastard jumped out in-front of me...</div>
<div dir="ltr">
<i>(The Cone, not the old lady!)</i></div>
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SparkysDiary (WhatWindsMeUp)http://www.blogger.com/profile/08374244328169664854noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3414304.post-51255859904774634912014-05-21T23:26:00.001+01:002014-05-21T23:27:13.774+01:00Heridiius<p dir="ltr">Quite by accident, I Invented a new word just now </p>
<p dir="ltr"><b><i>"Heridious"</i></b><br>
<i>(Pronounced 'Hurgh-Eee-dee-uss')</i></p>
<p dir="ltr">As I was trying to 'deftly' climb the stairs to Bedfordshire just now, (in great pain I might add, as it feels like someone has blow-torched my Achilles tendons having been out for a trot with the boy earlier this evening), I was taken aback at the sight of the "present-wife's" bed socks when my body seemingly gave up on me, went into a frantic spasm, and could no longer continue climbing; thus beset itself to start staggering back down; I was clambering at the banister, narrowly avoiding pulling the cat through the spibdles, whilst gasping for air as I felt like I'd swallowed my tongue...</p>
<p dir="ltr">Hence, instead of what I was 'supposed' to say <i><b>"<those socks are> Hideous!"</b></i></p>
<p dir="ltr">...Out came the alternate </p>
<p dir="ltr"><i><b>"Heridious"</b></i></p>
SparkysDiary (WhatWindsMeUp)http://www.blogger.com/profile/08374244328169664854noreply@blogger.com0