‘I declare before you all, that my whole life, whether it be long or short, shall be devoted to your service and the service of our great imperial family to which we all belong.
God help me to make good my vow, and God bless all of you who are willing to share in it.’
-From a speech made by the The Queen, aged twenty-one, in 1947.
It used to be silver
Then it was gold
She was always a diamond
Who couldn’t be sold
And now it is platinum
And so it should be
For seventy years
She’s kept dignity
She’s a trooper
And not just of the colour
A Queen by nature
They’ll be no other
She’s one in a million
Top notch – she’s ace
She’s held down this job
With composure and grace
We’ll celebrate
As best as we can
A tonic for the nation
Happy Birthday Ma’am.
‘I’ve won! I’ve won!’
–The Queen (upon learning that England’s cricketers had just won a test against Australia).
‘You should answer that. It might be someone important.’
The Queen (to someone whose mobile phone was ringing during an audience with The Queen).
The trouble with
a pity party is…
there’s only one person at the party
And a party,
that does not make
Neither does it make a wake
Break up the party
Nothing to see here
Time to go home folks.
Break it up!
The party’s over.
Every day is Christmas Day, if you are truly free.
-Me.
When I’m filling a stocking for someone special, I try to fill it with:
-Something to eat
-Something to drink
-Something to wear – usually socks and boxers or both (Obviously thinking about spouse here)
-Something to write in, diary or notepad with pen.
-Some type of useful gadget that needs batteries. I was going to buy a nose/ear trimmer for my spouse but realised I’d never actually seen any stray hairs sprouting from either orifice, in thirty years, and so thought this might be a bit insulting. Turns out he would have welcomed them. I suppose he’s been doing it in secret, trimming, I mean. (An ideal Christmas gift opportunity down the pan).
Some type of exciting but esentially useless gadget, that appeals to men’s little-boy-that-never-grew-up mentality.
Something to drink out of – Christmas themed or other type of drink vehicle filled with socks, marshmallows and/or generic hot chocolate mix. Got him a Batman mug and socks that I secretly wanted. (Christmas is nothing if not about sacrifice).
Something to splash on. (Got to be Brut lotion in his case)
Something out of the box/miscellaneous, unexpected, that doesn’t fit into any category.
Booby prize – Actually, only just thought about this one, as a possible stocking filler idea.
Toiletries- Just the few essential packs of razors and shaving foam.
Mastermind Vintage – A really cheap perfume for men, that smells like sugar, with a tiny bit of musk, which he obviously didn’t like, which he gave to me. Remember these are not the real present/gift items. It’s fun supplementary.
Lambrini Rhubarb – He likes sweet things and he doesn’t normally drink so I thought lightweight, sweet, refreshing and delicious, can’t lose, but again, he passed it onto me. I’m sensing a pattern here. Tastes like melted plastic to me. Like the Christmas Pudding and Custard Stout I bought, which tasted like nothing I’ve ever drank before, and hope I never will again, I thought it would go straight down the sink, and for me to pour alcohol down the sink, it has to be bad, but I drank a can of this, and now I have heartburn.
As usual, everything was last minute for me this year, like the men you see going out at Christmas Eve to buy perfume. Actually, it’s usually the day before, under cover of darkness, at 4.30 p.m, and you can see the pain in their eyes, even in the winter solstice.
I try to include a delicate balance of different useful things, but it was a bit hit and miss this year, more miss than hit. So… I’m going to have a P.S Day. Things forgotten and not purchased through lack of time, energy, indecision, trauma, hot discount store, or some other reason and we’re going to have another Christmas Stocking, in the next few days, a sort of add on, an expansion, like those video games, only with those nose hair trimmers nestling uncomfortably on top.
Merry Christmas Everyone!
I hope your troubles
Don’t hurricane your life
I hope extreme emotional turbulence
Doesn’t undo you.
I hope you overcome
The hurricanes of life
And they don’t define you
Or make you bitter and twisted
Or frighten you
Or unkind you
And make you indifferent
Uncaring
Or apathetic
But as with most things
Hurricanes disperse
I hope your hurricanes
Drift along
Expend energy harmlessly
Into the ocean
And melt off into the mist
Where they can do no harm to no-one
Especially yourself.
Watch it go.
Insults will put you down
If you let them
A jibe here
A stab there
But a criticism
Or an inneundo
Like a rotting wInter leaf
Before spring
Can sail away on the wind
If you’re slow to take offense
It’s tiring to be offended
Day after day
An exhausting round
Of mind games
Of word wars
Of battles that can’t be seen
Blood shed covertly
Will hurt just as much
But they know not what they do
Accept failure of others
Even if they can’t keep their hurt in
Long enough
To keep from hurting you
Sometimes, it’s not personal
If a glass falls
Its many shards will scatter
In all directions
And chances are
One or two willl cross your path
But sometimes, it is personal
Smiles and knives have been sharpened over time
And tipped with poison
With you in mind
Perhaps for many years
And expertedly pointed
At your back
For a well aimed
Well planned
Bullseye!
But whether it’s wrong time, wrong place
Or accidently on purpose
You can nurse a slight all day
And all it does is take away
From what is important
To you and your life.
Things In My Head 