When a spider scurries into a room in which I am stationed, it generally carries on scurrying, blissfully unaware of my presence, the nonchalant little shit. I, on the other hand, start squealing like a stuck Alan Carr, get all of my feet - ALL OF THEM - up off the floor and start frantically searching for my slippers.
It was our own fault that we'd had beans for lunch. And supper. In fact it struck me that beans should never have become a campfire staple. As my son continued to sleep-fart it also struck me that essentially we were sleeping in a highly flammable bag filling up with methane next to an open fire. This not being the most relaxing of thoughts - I decided to get up and douse the fire.
“Women” (pronounced “wee – men”) It seems like they are everywhere these days; shops, barns, even the local barn shop (where
I can remember the day I realised I didn't believe in religion anymore. It was really sunny, and God's love was shining through the trees - only it wasn't God's love, it was just the sun.