My cups runneth over

My husband, who likes to keep abreast of the latest research on women's breasts tell me that a Swedish boffin called Helena Jernstroem, from Lund University in Sweden has just done a study that concluded that drinking more than three cups of coffee per day shrinks women's breasts.

I think this was his way of telling me I should drink a maximum of three cups of coffee per day because he doesn't want my breasts to deflate. And sure, I could do that, but then I would want to kill myself. So what's it going to be, big man, ample breasts or a very cranky wife?

Jernstroem claims that "Coffee-drinking women do not have to worry their breasts will shrink to nothing overnight. They will get smaller, but the breasts aren't just going to disappear."

Thank God for that!

But I mean, come on, which woman is going to take breasts over coffee? Not me, that's for sure. Caffeine is the only legal drug I'm allowed and if that means I end up flat as a pancake then so be it.

What do you say ladies? Coffee Cups or D Cups?

Hello 911? This is a Christian Emergency!

Usually I just think of Christians as something a tad irritating, like a fly scurrying across my forehead and causing me to itch. If they ask me - usually while I am sweating on the Stairmaster - if I have Jesus in my life, I can just brush them away with some comment like, "If God exists then why are most gay men gorgeous and most straight men ugly?" and the Jesus flies will just look shocked, flap their wings and fly away.


But after perusing a site called Christian Nymphos which dispenses advice to couples on how they can spice up their love life without breaking God’s laws, I began to wonder about those poor lost souls who have never stumbled across this useful site where an agony aunt, after having a chin wag with God, has given a free pass to Christians who want to fantasize about Dick Cheney, wear cheerleaders outfits during sex or even to masturbate!

But imagine if you were a Christian who'd never found this site and who was tossing and turning all night, fighting your perverse desires while flicking through the bible trying to find Godly verses to justify their attraction to all manner of things - like their own genitals?

Taking this thought one step further, I don't think it's inconceivable that the emergency services might have been recipients of calls such as this:

Operator: Hello, 911. What service do you require?

Irate Christian: Well, I wish to report a crime ... so police, I suppose.

O: What's happened?

IC: Well, I just came home to find my room mate watching a porno called Sex, Lies and Trousersnakes ...

O: Wow! I so wanna see that movie.

IC: And, er, anyway, well, he was attacking ...

O: A woman?

IC: No, he was, well, I can only describe it as an assault on his penis. He had his penis liberally smothered in Crisco and was rubbing it in a fashion that made him ejaculate, which, as you know, is a violation of one of the bible's premier tenets, 'thou shalt not spill thy seed.'

O: I don't understand, you're saying your room mate was jerking off?

IC: Yes, well, I wouldn't put it so crudely, but yes. (Getting irate) Look, I need reinforcements over here ... I mean, as you know, masturbation is a crime. I want this guy arrested for violating a sacred sacrament.

O: Okay, okay, I'll need your address.

IC: 609 Rampart Street. Get the cops over here soon, I think he's started up again. So you're actually going to arrest this sinner?

O: No, I just haven't seen that movie yet and have heard it's hot! Tell your friend to hang on ... cos I'm coming over!

Irate Christian hangs up in disgust.

Nuts in May

I was just chuckling at Misssy Martin's amusing post about the amount of nutters she attracts, when I started to go down memory lane, thinking of some of the long buried top nuts in my past. And now, like a squirrel, I will unbury a couple for your delectation.

Yes indeed, when I was single I used to attract nutters at every turn. There was the quite attractive man called Felix who tried to seduce my mother and myself (at the same time). Go here if you want to read about that because it is quite something.

But it occurred to me that there was another quite poor seduction attempt in the form of Pete, a rock musician (goes without saying that he lived off rich women and didn't have a recording contract). Now for a long time I didn't meet Pete, just heard about him. Pete was a legend in his own lunchbox. He was friends with my friend Mark and Mark would always tell me about how Pete was a really great guy but that, once pissed, he had a propensity to get his knob out in public. Why, I don't know. He seemed to find it a source of amusement. He would get his cock out in clubs. He got it out in off licences. So anyway, Mark had this nude photo of me on his wall (black and white, artistic, my bum and a washing machine, if you want a copy send me a postal order for four pounds fifty). Turns out Pete saw the picture of my arse on his wall and told Mark, "She has a nice arse. Do you think she'd fancy coming round to my place for dinner?" Mark told me, I told Mark, well, yeah, maybe, (Why? Mark claimed Pete was good at oral sex and also Pete was pretty good looking and I craved some meaningless sex the way you sometimes crave a Chinese), but that Pete would have to phone me first and ask. Well, Pete never did phone me and a few weeks later I ran into him at a club and he said, "Why did you never phone me?" And I said, "Let's get this straight, you wanted to invite me round to your house for dinner but couldn't be bothered to phone me?" To which he replied, "I thought you were going to phone me. Why didn't you?" I said, "Well, apart from the fact that every off licence proprietor in North London has seen your bell end, I'm not that desperate," and huffed off. He looked quite hurt. What a wierdo.

Another nutter who really was a grade A nut was this young guy who, while I was walking about on Hampstead Heath asked me for a light. I gave him one (a light) and we got chatting and the guy said he really liked girls to hug him and would I hug him? I said no. Turns out he was a jew who couldn't have sex before marriage and would make out with girls until he came inside his jeans. I literally could not believe it. Going home with a pair of trousers full of cold jizz. Yuck. In the end I did give him a quick hug because I felt so sorry for him. What a prize nut.

Any memories of predatory super nutters you want to share?

You will hear her screams

I really do adore my friend Daisy, but her daughter, who I will refer to as Child X (age 8) is now so off the charts crazy that I don't know if I can bear to be around her anymore.

Last night my husband, Daisy and Darren, Child X and my two kids were at a restaurant. My kids order chicken nuggets and french fries. When the waitress asks Child X what she wants, she says:

"A New York Strip."

Daisy anxiously: "And no salt and pepper on it or she won't eat it."

Darren: "And no sauce."

Child X: "And medium rare. If it isn't done right you will hear my screams!"

The steak arrives with mashed potato and asparagus.

Child X: "I won't eat that because there's vegetables on the plate."

Me: "So what? The meat isn't even touching the potatoes."

Daisy and Darren remove vegetables onto their plate then proceed to cut up the steak for an eight year old.

What else does Child X eat I hear you ask? Well, believe it or not, Child X only eats steak, strawberries, ice cream and maybe bread?

The father Darren, who is nuts, I believe either forgets to put anything in her lunchbox or just can't be bothered, knowing she won't eat it. So recently the school phoned up and asked why they weren't giving her lunch and Darren replied: "Oh we have a great deal of difficulty thinking of what to feed her."

I believe the school now think they are deliberately starving Child X.

Child X also sometimes eats ice cream for breakfast and screams for up to half an hour until she gets her way.

My point is Child X is a tyrant who has her parents wrapped around her little finger. Child X is also totally selfish and my kids don't like her anymore. I just don't want to tell Daisy directly that Child X is a nightmare, or maybe I should.

I would so like to put Child X into some kind of boot camp for spoilt brats where they make kids eat generic chicken nuggets. I would love to hear her screams .... She needs sorting out that one does. Do you know any annoying spoilt brats and do you dare tell the parents they've raised a Little Hitler?

Miss DIY

FISH DEATH WATCH...TWO OUT OF SIX NOW DEAD....GOGGLE EYED BLACK FISH 'CUTIE' AND GOLDFISH 'SWEETIE' RIP...POSSIBLE CAUSE OF DEATH BODY ODOR WITHDRAWAL

So, we live in a funny quaint neighborhood where neighbors are always putting out stuff with a sign saying “$5 or Nearest Offer” or “Free” and then you lug home the one ski or a fax machine from 1974, and when you have amassed all the crap at your house you wonder whether it was really a fondness for recycling and philanthropy that made your neighbor give away 600 issues of Knitting Monthly or Scrapbooking for Wierdos or whether she was merely a sadist?

Well, the other day my husband and I were driving home at night when we came across a huge fish tank out on someone’s lawn, glowing neon green, with goggle eyed goldfish swimming against a backdrop of psychedelic coral.

“Whoa,” I thought. “I must be tripping.” But I couldn’t have been because I hadn’t taken any LSD (as far as I know). So this was real. As soon as I saw that fish tank I thought, I’ve got to have it. There had recently been some long discussions about what hairless and odorless pets the kids could have and now my prayers had been answered in the form of free fish. To my husband I said, “Do you think it’ll fit in the back of the car?” (It was a 46 gallon fish tank).

“No”

“Stop the car and help me get it into the trunk.”

“But it’s full of water and we’ll never be able to lift it.”

“Kill joy.”

In any case, when we drove up to it, I saw a sign in the gloom which said ‘$160.’

No such thing as a free fish, apparently. So the next day we went round there. There was a red van parked outside with a logo on it that said Miss DIY. As a crazed ruddy faced woman with a head full of wire wool came out of the house, I said to my husband, “Do you think she teaches women how to masturbate?”

He said: “Why don’t you ask her?”

Me: “Hello Miss DIY. We’re interested in your fishtank.”

Miss DIY, wearing a ratty grey t-shirt with sweat stains under the armpits and smoking a cigarette replies, “Well that’s great. But, you won’t believe what happened at two am last night. I looked out the window and saw these two black fellas just lifting up the fish tank and trying to put it into the back of their van. I hollered out at them: Excuse me sweetheart but that tank ain’t free!”

Me: “Some people!”

She rambled on for half an hour, at which point I wondered if she actually wanted to sell the fishtank or whether putting it out on the lawn had just been a ruse to make friends outside of the DIY communitee.

Me: “Look, we’re in a bit of a hurry, can you deliver it to our house tomorrow morning at nine?”

Miss DIY: “No problem. Absolutely. The kids will love it!”

The following day, Miss DIY did not arrive at nine. I wouldn’t have cared, only my husband’s relatives are staying with us and we wanted to drive down to Ocean City and everyone was itching to be off. So at half past nine my husband drove around to Miss DIY’s house and the tank was still on the front lawn. So he knocked on the door, woke her up, loaded the stuff into her van and then she set up the tank in our house. As soon as she arrived she started apologizing about how she was sorry she hadn’t arrived at nine but she had not slept well last night etc etc. Again she would not stop talking. She said she could build us a shelf onto which we could put the water pump etc etc but I think that was going to cost extra so I declined the offer. My daughter Sausage said: “Why is your face red and why are you sweating?” to which she replied “Because I am fat and I smoke and I sweat a lot.”

When she eventually cleared off I thought: there but for the grace of God go I. A friend once said to me before I was married, “You’re too fussy about men. I have a feeling that you’ll end up living with your mother when you’re middle aged.”

I cried for three days.

After I stopped crying, I started to give some serious thought to the idea of getting married, as well as the more practical aspect of marriage i.e. finding a man willing to get hitched.

I don’t think people should necessarily get married, but let’s face it, have you ever met a fifty year old unmarried woman who wasn’t a raving fruitbat? The problem is, okay, so Miss DIY could probably build a kitchen cabinet standing on her head or unplug the toilet with one of those drain snakes, but she was as nutty as squirrel shit. And finally I came to the conclusion that marriage and kids save you from going mad simply because you can only stoke your own raving insecurities and bizarre hobbies for about five per cent of the time. Do you agree?

I REALLY NEED YOU TO VOTE FOR ME IN THE CATEGORY OF HOTTEST MOMMY BLOGGER HERE (kisses, hugs, virtual donuts for all who vote):

Penises can be funny too

Hey dear readers,

Before I talk about celebrity penises, I just want you to know: I love you. I have very much enjoyed tickling your fancy via my blog on many an occasion. And now I need you to scratch my itch and vote for me in the Bloggers Choice Awards here!

Why do I need you to help me out? Well, I'm working on a book project which I'll need to get as much PR for as possible, and I need you to be publicity whores for me. So please pop over and vote for my blog in the category of Hottest Mommy Blogger. Thanks so much.

And now, I can reveal, Arnold Schwarzenneger in rubber. In a new HIV campaign, these lovable penis personalities will be sure to make many women and men rush to the shops! I wonder who the models were for this Belgian ad campaign?



John, or maybe Yoko?



Ice Dick



A Penis with a large afro


Senator Arnold Schwarzenegger


Bill is funny for once when he says "I finally discovered an efficient antivirus!"

VOTE FOR ME IN THE CATEGORY OF HOTTEST MOMMY BLOGGER HERE:

Should Donuts Be Illegal?

Right now, adults and kids in Haiti are subsisting on 'cookies' made of dirt, salt and vegetable shortening because it is the only thing they can afford.



So excuse me if I don't have any sympathy for the Fat Acceptance movement (NAAFA) whose objective it is to battle prejudice against fat people. To NAAFA I say, please stop being ridiculous.

No, I don't think women should aspire to be waifs, and obviously, diets and diet pills are a massive moneymaking con, but does that make it is okay to be fat? Firstly it has massive health risks, but even if it didn't, is it really a good idea to guzzle your body weight in soda every day? In an attempt to legitamize the fact that they are a bunch of lazy slobs who don't want to exercise or control their calorific intake, NAAFA (I need hardly add that this bunch of fruitcakes are based in California) puts forward this manifesto:

"There is one thing that FA blogs have in common across the board: we believe that it is wrong to mistreat someone because they are fat. That’s it."

To which I say, bollocks. Do you want me to start an organization because I am too attractive (TOOSEXY) or my breasts are too large and men stare at them (BOOBIES)? Maybe I should start an organisation for women with blonde hair who are prejudiced against because we are regarded as bimbos (BLONDEPAIN). Or maybe I should start a campaign for people with nice legs. Then I can start a campaign about it (LEGAGONY), go on Dr. Phil and share my agony: "People just look at my legs and don't realize that I have a PhD from Harvard." Or how about starting a campaign for people who are too smart to work at McDonalds (JOBLESSEGGHEADS)?

All I am saying is, grow up. In the world in which we live attractive thin people are top of the heap, fat people are bottom of the heap. If you wish to participate in this world you should play by the rules. If you wish to start an Isle of Fatos where donuts grow on trees, please do so, but please don't ask for special treatment in this world.

Let's wake up and smell the coffee. You are not fat because you have a slow metabolic rate. You are not fat because it is 'glandular' or 'genetic' or you have a food 'addiction'. You are fat because you overeat. Look, I've done it. Reach for a chocolate biscuit every time you feel low. Guess what, it makes you fat.

One of the problems about obesity is that eating huge amounts of food isn't illegal. I watched this program the other day about a 750 lb man who was in some detox hospital type place, where he was meant to lose weight and get better, and his wife was sneaking him in donuts and bags of chips. I said to a friend, who is a dietician, "I couldn't believe they didn't just chuck him out. I mean, he was just killing himself. If a drug addict who was meant to be detoxing smuggled in heroin, he'd be thrown out." And she said, "They can't do that, because donuts aren't illegal."

Quite frankly, this NAAFA organisation is doing fat people a huge disservice. Rather than accepting themselves they should realize that their eating is out of control. And while I'm at it, obese people really should have to pay for two seats on the plane.