LOSING YOUR LIBIDO

 

Apparently, after much money has been wasted on trials and studies on libido, the conclusion has been reached, the verdict delivered. Viagra does not work for women.  You don’t say! 

What a pity the same scientists hadn’t just asked women, they could have reached the same conclusion, for half the cost in half the time. Yes, we are told Viagra will make no difference to our sex drive and of course, it’s true; we’ve known it all along.

Unlike men, a little blue pill will not make us be magically up for it. It won’t put our sex drive into forward gear, relight our fire, or float our boat.

We know that the desire for sex starts in a women’s brain and works its magic downwards, whilst rumour has it that in men it starts downwards and pretty much stays there.

Luckily for those men whose equipment no longer rises to the occasion, purchase of a quick ‘kick start’ is easy via the Internet, without leaving the comfort of their own home.   Viagra pic H60

For a more personal approach, a visit to a sympathetic male doctor will have the desired effect and before you can say ‘make mine a stiff one’ they’ll soon sidle out of the pharmacy with a cure, boxed and wrapped in a plain paper bag.

Does this mean there is no quick fix solution for the ladies? What really is the truth about women’s loss of libido? How odd that it seems to just disappear. (more…)

THAT’S LIFE!

 

Rosie - Author of Hello Sixty

I love this story of the gentleman who did not, as they expected, leave the bulk of his estate to family and friends, but instead to someone who appears to have just popped round occasionally and cleaned his gutters for free. Predictably, the will has been challenged in court.

Indicative statement from the kindly smiley man who did the good turn…..

H60 Pensioner bequest story Gutter man

‘’I class a friend as somebody who talks to people. His friends and family hadn’t spoken to him in months. At least I was going round whenever I was in the area.

 

 

 

H60 Pensioner bequest, greedy woman

Indicative statement from the sour faced, ‘we woz robbed’  people

‘One or other of us would go and see him every break we had. I had tried to pop in around March and had phoned but there was nothing. We were planning to go on a cruise the next year.

H60 Pensioner bequest story, greedy man. Richard Gittins Champion news

 

 

 

I don’t want to state the flaming obvious here, but maybe there was ‘nothing’ because the poor old bugger was probably already dead.

I’m guessing your ‘cruise’ plans have probably changed now too. Yep, thought so.

 

I hope the court throws out this challenge to the will and tells this pair of chancers to do one.

 ******

H60 Sam Cam's feet.cPA

Poor Samantha Cameron.  She schlepped round town championing the cause for him indoors, and just when she get’s offered a cup of tea and a nice sit down, all anyone is interested in is her ‘unkempt feet’.

H60 Sam Cam feet close up.

Honestly, her feet look freezing cold don’t they, and as we all know, when it comes to time management on a school day, the toss up between ‘shall I wash my chip fat hair, or paint my toenails in case a kind man in a turban offers me a brew’, in my view, there is no contest.

Glad the Daily Fail have got their priorities right.  How about commenting on the fact that Ms Mcleod didn’t take her shoes off.  That’ll be a lost vote then.

Much more of this abuse of the shag pile by the Conservatives, and questions will be asked in the house.

******

 And my award for ‘dramatic over reaction’ goes to the couple who could have accentuated the positive whilst celebrating their wedding, but chose instead to be reduced to sobbing wrecks over something that in the grand scheme of things was in my view, just one of those things.

H60 Mouldy cake cutting picture.

In fact the traumatic turn of events caused the bride to wail,  ‘I had to concentrate on making the first dance as special as I could without having to break down in floods of tears again.

It begs the question, was the first dance song………TRAGEDY!

H60 mouldy cake eyebrows pic

Yes, the bride, the groom, AND his Mother were ALL sobbing, not tears of joy that the brides eyebrows had not disappeared into her hair, or that the grooms trousers had not split, cos he’d clearly not  shifted the pounds in preparation for his ‘big day’, but simply because their calorific cake had gone a bit ‘off’.

The bride ( still wailing ) informed us

H60 mouldy cake miserable pic

   ‘I went into the kitchen to see it and ran outside and   broke down in tears.

My husband was crying because he knew I was going to be absolutely devastated.

 

LUV, it’s a cake, get over it.  It’s a blessing in disguise. Trying to rock a sad, miserable face is not doing either of you any favours. Move on.

Sometimes life doesn’t go according to plan does it!

Photo’s attributed to:  Richard Griffin Champions News, The Evening Gazette, and the Daily  Mail.

KATIE HOPKINS – TWITTER GRAINS OF TRUTH

Back in January, referring to KATIE HOPKINS, I wrote,

‘I don’t actually give a toss about what people think of me LIKING her, because I do’.

And now I like her even more.   Katie Hopkins picture 3

But I really don’t mind at all if you don’t agree with her opinions, or mine! 

We can still be friends. Right?

Why do I like her?  Well, because most of what she says usually has a grain of truth in it, which, I believe most reasonably intelligent people agree with, but are just too ‘nice’ to say themselves. Whilst others just worry about what people will think of them if they admit to agreeing with her.

One Twitter follower wrote, ‘I tend to agree with 90% of @KTHopkins comments, but I’m scared to retweet them in case I get trolled’!

Well, last night I happened to Tweet in agreement to one of her opinions,  I didn’t get trolled, but what did happen was more people ‘favorited’ my Tweet than ever before, and I gained more followers in 10 minutes than I have in the last 10 months!

It went something like this.

The latest Social Media uproar was caused when she voiced her opinions about patients with dementia, stating, amongst other things, that we treat animals more humanely than humans.

Let’s be honest, this is a view that most people are in agreement with.  Out of love, we can take a chronically sick dog to the vet, and cuddle and whisper endearments to it while we gently send them to doggy heaven.

However, when it comes to our chronically sick human relatives suffering from dementia, we have NO choice, but to force onto them the indignity of languishing in a hospital bed, with absolutely no quality of life, for weeks, sometimes months on end. No ‘good death’ for our nearest and dearest.

But of course people love to take offence at the slightest thing, and very often don’t have the verbal skills to put their point of view forward succinctly, often missing the point entirely.  Which was exactly what happened yesterday.

Twitter KT Hopkins tweet.

 

 

 

 

 

After posting this, I received Tweets back such as ‘not in abattoirs we don’t’ which was, as I pointed out is a slightly different argument and this random offering from a guy in Norwich ‘How long has free pet care being going on’ referring I presume to the ‘free’ NHS care that dementia sufferers are given.

But he, along with many other people were responding emotionally not rationally to Ms Hopkins opinions, which is usually the case.

So if as a result of ‘following me’ on Twitter, the 14 retweets, and 63 favorites,  if you do happen to be reading this, thanks so much, keep on reading, and share the love!

Why do I think what she says usually has a grain of truth in it. Well, while we are in a ‘celeb’ state of mind, as someone once said ‘Let’s look at the evidence’……….

Would I employ you if you were obese? No I would not. You would give the wrong impression to the clients of my business. I need people to look energetic, professional and efficient. If you are obese you look lazy – Katie Hopkins

The only people who will disagree with this are people who ARE in fact obese or those wanting to jump on the coach with the OFFENDED destination.

I absolutely DO agree that if you are obese, you do look lazy, and I for one do not want to be the customer of anyone who is lugging their huge pie filled body around, gasping for breath and  is generally not a very pleasant sight to see.

People make excuses for obesity by saying ‘oh they have tried every diet, but they never work. They are actually a nice, thin person inside, just waiting to get out’.

This of course is total bollocks. Most obese people are just lazy and greedy.

Children are named according to their parent’s intelligence. They are a social marker, an indicator of vocab, manners, ability, and respect – Katie Hopkins

Another spot on observation, which was met with outrage amongst the parents of every Paris, Sheralee, Kyle, Tyler and Whitney.

Your name defines you for life, and also in many respects defines your social status and that of your family. I agree that it shouldn’t….. but it does and always will

I doubt we will ever see a Kayden in the House of Lords, just as Edward would sadly be a sitting target for bullies on a council estate anywhere in the UK.

Like is drawn to like, and let’s face it, in the playground of life, George’s parents are highly unlikely to invite Chelsea’s Mum and Dad round for drinks and nibbles and Tiffany’s parents are highly unlikely to invite William’s Mummy and Daddy round for a few cans of Stella and an Iceland Prawn ring.

Grains of truth are only viewed as offensive by those who choose to be offended, say what you like, Ms Hopkins is very often just saying what most of us are thinking. Get used to it.

Do you secretly agree with some of her views?

WE SHOULD ALL BE MORE NOSEY AND NOISY

As a fairly streetwise Mother of two daughters, and Nanny to 4 boys aged from 4 to 12, I still cannot get to grips with the latest reported scale of child exploitation and sexual abuse in England that has apparently been going on over the last decade or more.

Do I think David Cameron’s latest wonderful idea to jail anyone who turns a blind eye to child abuse in the future, will make a difference?  No, I don’t.

People will not be held accountable. One person will of course be sacked, or jailed, to make an example of them, but then it will all just be old news and forgotten.

http://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2015/mar/03/gesture-jailing-professionals-child-abuse-wont-stop-rotherham

After all, how many times, after some poor child has been horrifically treated, have we, as mature Grans and Nans, heard the words ‘ lessons will be learnt, there will be a full enquiry’, but the lessons are never learnt, and history predictably repeats itself.

What I find incomprehensible is that in some of the most tragic cases that have been in the news over the past 5 years or so, teachers, neighbours and extended family seem to have either been blind, deaf or completely stupid NOT to have noticed when a child that they regularly see appears to be unhappy, neglected, or withdrawn.

Why have they not shouted louder, got involved, knocked on doors, made phone calls, anonymously or otherwise, and left NO stone unturned until someone listened, and more importantly,  been seen to take action.

Whilst this is slightly off course, as a dog lover and owner, it is MY job to protect my dog, to ‘read’ him if you like. Is he behaving normally, is he eating, drinking, sleeping, running and engaging with me, and other dogs, as he usually does. Has something upset him, his digestion, is he in pain, limping, biting his feet, or scratching his ears.  If so, I look closer, watch, listen, feel, and do whatever it takes to help him

Shouldn’t that be the same with a child for goodness sake?

Except it’s not is it.  For every news item about an abused or neglected child that makes us gasp at the horror of it all, someone must have heard or seen something.  A happy child jumps and skips, is full of giggles, asks for sweets, and is cheeky. An unhappy child is withdrawn, solemn, scared, asks for nothing and says nothing.

A cared for child looks and smells entirely different to a neglected child.  The warning signs are usually there, but are often simply ignored. After all people don’t usually want to get involved do they?

Instead of making sex education in schools, compulsory for 5 year olds, (which is another bright idea of some other Government idiot), wouldn’t it be a better idea, to educate EVERY child, about shouting very loudly to their Mummy or Daddy, Nanny or Grandad, if they are in any way scared, unhappy, nervous, anxious, about ANYTHING, safe in the knowledge that they will be listened to, they will be believed, and be reassured that none of it is their fault.

Shouldn’t we be spending more time educating every young girl and boy, about NOT keeping some secrets, even if they are asked to do so?  Telling them specifically, who is allowed to undress them, who can help them do personal things, even if it is a hugely sensitive conversation to have.

For older girls, and boys, let’s crank that birds and bee’s lesson up a few notches and talk to them in language they actually understand. Yes of course they need the biological facts, but they also need cold hard facts, if they are to be armed well enough to deal with some of today’s warped human beings.

Most teenagers today are streetwise and know far more than us 60 something’s did at their age, so let’s enhance that knowledge, and teach them how to spot a ‘groomer’ at a 100 paces, and to put their often annoying, trappy little mouths to good use and shout very loudly and make sure someone listens.

I cannot believe that out of the hundreds of vulnerable young girls who have been exploited in Oxford and Rotherham, not one of them told a soul.  Nobody noticed they went missing for days on end; nobody questioned where they were, nobody took a long hard look at any one of them and thought something was wrong.

Didn’t it strike anyone as odd, seeing young white girl’s constantly hanging round with older, Pakistani men?  The policeman walking his patch, an off duty social worker, maybe a solicitor from a local practice? A high proportion of them were ‘in care’, but nobody cared did they.  Really.

How about we, as adults, be more mindful, more nosey, and noisier if we feel, see or hear something that is not quite right. Instincts are not usually wrong.

Never mind about making an error of judgement. Better to do that and take the flack, than NOT say anything, not act on our instincts, our intuition, and leave another youngster in danger for one more second than is necessary.

Or do you think the more common thought process is ‘better not get involved’

 

MARMITE MOMENTS!

Don’t get me wrong, I genuinely enjoy watching Stephen Fry on the telly. I love his wit, admire his knowledge, and I’m no stranger to a bit of QI.

I also love a gay wedding, a lesbian wedding, any kind of wedding. Let’s face it, in my job, I’ve personally sent my fair share of brides and brides, and, grooms and grooms, down towards the ceremony table to seal the deal.

But I won’t lie to you, the picture of him and his ‘much younger man’ brings  out my ‘oh FFS, you’ve got to be kidding’  side.   Stephen Fry and tweet.

Likewise, my cynical reaction is rather than a two become one tweet I’d venture there will be a one will become two tweet, before the ink is dry on the 11 plus certificate…..

Oooops, no sorry, of course I mean the marriage certificate.

It’s an easy mistake to make, let’s face it, the younger groom looks like he’s still in year 11

The picture shows Stephen Fry gazing proudly at his young beau in quite a ‘fatherly’ way, as if he’s just signed a contract for some high profile football team, when in actual fact he’s just signed a contract for a totally different kind of ball game….let’s hope he takes all the ‘pitch’ invasions like a man….

This is one c’leb gay relationship that really makes me feel queasy, as, unlike Elton and David, it’s such a mismatch of everything, and just looks wrong on so many levels.

*****

A bit like Katie Hopkins, I don’t actually give a toss about what people think of me LIKING her, because I do.

Katie Hopkins picture 3

Regardless of public opinion a lot of things she says are what many other people would like to say, but, unlike her,  don’t have the balls to actually say it.

Before, during and after any of the Celebrity Big Brother episodes, Twitter goes NUTS with Tweets of positivity for her.

Mainly people say they are warming to her, or are surprised to say they like her.

Indeed some are actually worried that they like her and want her to win. As I do.

Isn’t it usually the type of people that she aims her criticism at, who are the ones that take the most offence, and ‘hate’ her?

Maybe that’s because a little tad of truth sometimes hurts,…….if the cap fits wear it…….kind of thing.

On Emma Watson’s ‘side boobs’ Katie remarked ‘”Emma Watson needed to give this look a miss. Her sad side boobs are barely there.  To have a ‘sidey’ – you need a boob in the first place.”

( Yes I’d agree with that, wouldn’t you? )

On Paternity Leave:  “Most men would rather boil their heads in breast milk than take 26 weeks paternity leave. At present 75% of men take one week or less.”

( Yes after the novelty of the birth, showing off the new-born, and wetting the baby’s head, I’d say that’s about right too, wouldn’t you? )

On babies themselves: “Babies may be many things – but they are not good company. Most working mums acknowledge babies are boring, even if they have to keep this a secret from the scowling mob of school gate mums.”

( Bright, communicative new Mums, DO find babies boring, they eat, sleep and poo, and don’t make much conversation. Well you can’t argue with that can you? )

Seriously, if you stop listening to other peoples judgements of her, and watch and listen for yourself, you will find more than one opinion of hers that you agree with, but might, not quite, be brave enough to voice yourself.

Pictures courtesy of: popsugar.com and buzzfeed.com

 

CELEBRITY BIG BROTHER 2015

It’s very rare for me to venture into the world of Celebrity Big Brother.

However, as I have genuinely lost the Broadchurch plot, and I was a bit brain dead anyway, CBB seemed the most appropriate thing to watch, given that my powers of concentration were somewhat lacking.

Big Brother House

Let’s see what other brain dead people are up to this evening I thought!

Being female, I am of course capable of doing two things at once, and I had one eye on the telly, and one eye on Twitter, which almost went into overdrive when one of the occupants of the house was asked to leave immediately, instead of going through the normal eviction process.

He has in short been given the Celebrity Big Brother boot up his arse.

To be frank, you don’t actually have to watch ANY controversial television programme these days, you can just read around 20 tweets, and get the gist of what’s gone on.

So bloody convenient for us busy, creative people, who need something to write about!

Celebrity Big Brother housemate of 2015, 71 year old Ken Morley, an old timer actor on Coronation Street, has found himself in BIG trouble, because of his very unfortunate choice of phrase.  Ken Morely.

He’s upset or insulted just about everyone in the house, and is judged to be racist, homophobic, sexist, rude, disgusting, despicable and offensive to name but a few.

And I agree with all those opinions, he is guilty as charged.

But the issue for me, and I suspect anyone over the age of 60, is that he probably has NO idea that he is doing or saying anything offensive, and a high percentage of people who were merrily Tweeting away while the programme was being shown, had exactly the same thoughts as me.

I know a lot of ‘Ken Morley’ type men, I reckon many readers of this blog know a ‘Ken Morley’ type man too.  There is usually one in most families.

A bonkers old Grandad or an opinionated Uncle. They are everywhere. Still.

They use the same terminology today that they have been using for 50 years and in my opinion, simply don’t recognise the Politically Correct party anthem.

In the 50’s and 60’s the unacceptable, ‘N’ word that he uttered in two different forms WAS what black people were regularly called, one version was usually used to describe a black person’s colour, the other was a slang term for the same word.  And back then, it was not deemed to be particularly offensive.  Indeed, many black people used to mock their white friends, and call them ‘Chalkey’.

It’s just how it was.   But you know, I know, and the media knows that things have moved on.

These days, it is wholly offensive to use these words.  Despicable Ken knows this too, but he says what HE thinks anyway, and has perfected a curmudgeonly attitude that also says, ‘and if you don’t like it then YOU can bugger off’.

In a way, I have a certain sympathy for him. The look of sheer confusion on his face was SO indicative as he was ‘charged’ with the offending behaviour.

I wouldn’t mind betting that he was just being himself, talking to everyone in the Big Brother house, just as he talks indoors to family and friends, as he has done for decades, he either doesn’t accept he is being offensive, or simply doesn’t care!

His Celebrity Big Brother BIG mistake was underestimating the power of a group of Politically Correct ‘P’ list questionable c’lebs, who trod a fine line between bullying a pensioner, and casting themselves as judge and jury. They clearly felt it necessary to beat the drum very loudly and relentlessly to make some ‘good telly’ for the baying CBB crowds.

In my opinion, and if Twitter is anything to go by, the opinion of many viewers, is that Ken Morley was just as much a victim of offensive behaviour, as those he was accused of offending, BY those he was accused of offending.

Of course not everyone will agree with me, either way, if you’ve been watching Celebrity Big Brother, tell me what you think.

FLUSHED AWAY OH HAPPY DAY!

I think it was that strange, anxious woman, Gillian Mckeith who made a mint out of a book called ‘We are what we eat’

I’m not suggesting anyone would want to resemble Ms Mckeith in any way, all that fainting and falling about in the jungle, was just plain tedious, but after wading your way through a few giant size tins of Quality Street, and having just one more slice of your far too rich Christmas cake you may soon be feeling like a beached whale or, simply be just full of hot air.  Fat stomach

You may in all honesty also LOOK like you’ve eaten too many pies, and you probably have.  Lets just face it, you will be what you have eaten!

Yes in around 6 weeks’ time, you will be turning to the latest edition of your favourite magazines in an effort to find a cure for your lardy arse, and they will advise you to firstly embark on a detox programme to kick-start your digestion, before joining a weight loss club, all of who will be offering you a reduced joining fee as they wish you a Happy New Year.

The detoxing will involve copious amounts of juicing, and swallowing vile concoctions of vegetables, which should never be seen in the same sentence let alone in the same blender.

Then you will be spoilt for choice between Weight Watchers, Slimming World, Herbalife, Lighter Life, and if you are too bloody overweight possibly the Afterlife.

Try to avoid the last option, I can’t afford to lose any of my cherished readers…….

Luckily, I have an alternative suggestion, tried and tested by me, which will, I guarantee bring immediate relief to anyone suffering from any digestive malfunction, and will deflate more than your ego.

Yes ladies the therapy you require is quaintly entitled ‘Colonic Irrigation’

Stop it with the ‘oh yuk’. If I’ve done it, you can do it.  It’s a piece of cake, nothing to it, you’ll end up laughing in the face of constipation and your free fall farting will be a thing of the past.    Fart pic.

I have to tell you, that in many ways, I am ‘the woman least likely to’ when it comes to matters of any kind of therapy. Retail therapy being the obvious exception.

But recently out of curiosity, and naturally, so that I could bring you ‘first hand’ details of this treatment, I went for it, in a big way, and let me tell you, Miss Intrepid here was filled with the utmost trepidation on entering the beauty salon to await an appointment with a weapon of mass irrigation.

On first sight the equipment is so high tech, that you actually forget just where the tubes are about to be inserted.  Initially, you also fail to realise that the box in the wall, vaguely resembling an empty television screen with a pipe running through the middle is actually going to be very significant as the treatment progresses.

In fact, the entire contents of your bum will pass through this window before your, and your therapists, very eyes.

The question really is, shouldn’t the therapist have therapy, only a mad person would choose to do such a crap job for a living.

My own invasive lady was very professional. As I was a colonic irrigation virgin, she matter of factly explained exactly what would happen and told me to shout if I felt any discomfort.

She then uttered the immortal words, ‘turn on your side and relax’.

Now when women hear those immortal words, it’s usually when someone wants to invade your lower regions with something hard cold and flat, as opposed to something hard hot and throbbing!  Funny that.

The idea of the treatment is to ‘flush out’ your bowels with water, removing food waste that may have been sticking to the sides and lurking there for a zillion years and thus leaving them ‘free flowing’. Digestive system.

This build up of toxins in the digestive system, is believed to contribute to feelings of sluggishness, constipation and colonic irritation goes a long way in getting to the bottom of the problem.  Or should that be the problem of the bottom.

In reality it’s a subtler version of the old fashioned enema, which was regularly freely administered in most hospitals across the land, but these days you have to pay a fortune for the same privilege.

It also has to be remembered that there are differing opinions as to the wisdom of having this treatment.

Some ‘experts’ will tell you that having too many toxins in the body can contribute to life threatening illnesses and so anything that detoxes the system can only be a good thing.

Others will say that during colonic irrigation there is a danger of causing damage to the bowel which will definitely be more harmful than beneficial.

But luckily the choice is yours!

So here’s what happens.  A dual function pipe shaped a bit like a small vibrator is (to put it bluntly), inserted up your bum, it doesn’t hurt at all, and the feeling of discomfort is minimal.

Then, water is gently introduced through the pipe into the lower bowel.  This feels very odd, and gradually you feel as if there is going to be a terrible accident, and huge embarrassment all round, but it doesn’t happen.

After about 30 seconds, the water stops, and then, the contents of your bottom are removed through an outlet valve in the same pipe, so basically, the water comes in, and the crap goes out. Simples.

It travels along the pipe…and THEN……….you see it all travelling through the window of the screen, after which it goes naturally into the plumbing system of wherever you happen to be.

Bizarrely, the therapist then begins to explain what the consistency, colour and general condition of your poo actually indicates.

Words like ‘Oh that’s VERY old waste’ and ‘that’s really healthy stuff there. Look it’s a much better colour‘, are uttered.

I have similar conversations when shopping with a girlfriend and she utters, ‘oh that dress is a bit old fashioned, look that one is much better colour’.

But let’s be honest, there are some opinions you can do without.

The process is repeated about 8 times, and the idea is that you wait longer each time before the outlet pipe kicks in, so that more water is absorbed into the bowel.

You really do feel as if your bum is going to explode and pebbledash the wall, but trust me it cannot and will not happen.

Eventually towards the end the outlet pipe is running clear and there is nothing left to come out. The fact that you have seen all this crap leaving your body actually makes you feel better.   When it’s all over, and the pipe is removed, you just nip to the loo to make sure that there is no water left to come out, which there usually isn’t.

I went shopping straight afterwards and almost skipped along the road.  At around £80.00 per flush, it is not a cheap option, but I have to say it is one I would repeat often if money permitted.       Colonic irrigation gift token. H60

I had loads more energy and my head felt much clearer, leading me to wonder if maybe my brains are in my arse after all!

It definitely does kick start your digestive process, and you will feel and look instantly slimmer, which will motivate you to crack on and cut those carbs.

All in all it was a successful outcome and I was indeed flushed to excess…….

What do you think, would you give it a ‘go’?

KNICKERS TO YOU!

Well you lot can laugh all you like, but if you are anything like me, you can
often judge your relationship status by size of your knickers.

If you are in the throes of a brand new sizzling relationship, then you are probably at, or in, as it were, the matching skimpies stage.

If quickies are jumping out at you from all corners of your new romantic  life, then getting ‘caught short’ so to speak, in a pair of belly warmers doesn’t bear thinking about.

You are on high alert,  appropriately underdressed, and ready for action at all times.

You’ll have stocked up on, lacy knickers, French knickers, and silky knickers. Cotton gussets no longer feature on your underwear horizon.  Saggy knickers are consigned to the bin, or if you are of a, make do and mend disposition,  rehomed in a bucket under the sink and renamed ‘Duster’.

You must be incredibly old if you feel it is acceptable to use a pair of old drawers as a duster,  unless of course you are over 85.  What’s more, if  someone has put some happy back into your lady bits in the autumn of your life,  then I’d say, fuck dusting your chandeliers,….. swing from them instead.     Ladies knickers

I DIGRESS…..

Then time moves on doesn’t it. Not only do you move into a comfort zone with your new beau, you move into a comfy knickers zone too.  Gradually, there becomes two parts to your undies drawer.

Every day pants, on the left, lace edged, a cheeky bow here and there, comfortable, yet still with a nod to the inner sexy you, but your special occasion, sexy thongs and strings are tucked away on the right, waiting for that waft of ‘come hither’ aftershave, that means, ……..well, you know what it means.

But how long I wonder before you are regularly browsing the ‘high leg, cotton gusset, full pant’ section again, instead of rocking an uncomfortable world wide wedgie!

Yes, I know we’ve all still got our holiday mini’s, and ‘hold your muffin top in’ maxi’s,  but go on, admit it ladies, sometimes you just can’t beat your favourite pair of BIG PANTS!

Knickers Bridget

..

STOP THE HYSTERIA OVER HISTORICAL GROPING!

 

This is not the first time I’ve written about historic cases of sexual assault, which really should be downgraded to…. inappropriate groping by men who should have know better.

I fully expect that there are some women who will totally disagree with my sentiments. But I was pleased to note the voice of reason in an article by Rachel Johnson in last week’s edition of the Mail on Sunday. Rachel Johnson. the good web guide.co.uk

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/debate/article-2780848/RACHEL-JOHNSON-Bad-luck-Charlotte-arresting-old-gropers-just-waste-time.html

Of course, it goes without saying, that rape is, was, and always shall be the most appalling of crimes and I can do no better than echo this statement made by Ms Johnson.

 When it comes to rape and paedophilia, there should be no statute of limitations on sins of the past. Go get ’em, dead or alive, I say.’   And well said her.

But really, how much more taxpayers money is going to be spent pursuing now ageing minor celebrities of yesteryear, for pinching a pretty girls bum or getting a bit too up close and personal with a pair of pert boobs.

How many more wandering hands of the 70’s and 80’s must be now sacrificed so that whoever feels they have been ‘assaulted’ can now get justice for their suffering and move on from whatever terrible thing that has blighted their life.

Have these incidents really been SO terrible, that they warrant ruining a man’s life, just for a thoughtless act of impropriety. Or, as Rachel Johnson advises in her previous column would possibly a swift kick in the balls and a sincere apology to any female he humiliated might be more of a fitting punishment.

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/debate/article-2772320/RACHEL-JOHNSON-DLT-didn-t-need-trial-just-kick-hurts.html

Most of these men, now being hauled off for hours of questioning at police stations across the land, are in their mid-50’s to late 60’s they are around the same age as many of the readers of my blog Hello Sixty.   I don’t know about you, but I have enough trouble recalling where I was, and what I was doing LAST year, let alone 30-40 years ago, which is when many of these incidents allegedly occurred.

How the heck are they supposed to defend themselves against a perhaps bitter female, who simply wants to jump on the main chance Jimmy Savile bandwagon.

How ironic that his name was spelt Savile, with only one L, making him truly ‘vile’. That was indeed one cap that truly fitted!

Of course, it has be acknowledged that there are wildly differing degrees of severity within the ‘sexual assault’ crime. But the word ‘groping’ to me, does not constitute a sexual assault.

If ‘groping’ DOES indeed constitute a sexual assault, then, as a young, petite blonde, I was probably sexually assaulted more times than I care to recall throughout the late 60’s and 70’s, but strangely enough, I’ve got better things to do now than even think about it, and even if I could recall a single face, name, time, place, rather than let any incident ‘blight my life’, I simply slapped a hand, and often a face, and yelled a pretty short and sharp, GET LOST!

Do you agree, or disagree with my thoughts, or have you encountered the odd groper yourself?

 

Photo of Ms Johnson courtesy of TheGoodWebGuide.co.uk

 

SOD OFF INSOMNIA !

From the moment we are born, sleep comes high on the agenda of our life. As babies we are rocked and soothed into a sublime state of peacefulness with chubby tummies full of milky goodness.

As parents, we negotiate with tired, grumpy toddlers, recalcitrant children and moody teenagers, to get them into bed for a ‘good night’s sleep’, which we know will not only restore their good mood, it will, by association, restore our sanity into the bargain.

How ironic therefore, that once our offspring have flown the nest, and we could enjoy our own good night’s sleep, undisturbed by colicky babies, children with nightmares, and noisy teenagers, the insomnia fairy comes calling and like an unwelcome guest at a party, simply will not leave!

If you have trouble sleeping, no doubt you’ve had the same sage advice as me, to follow something called sleep hygiene. A nice warm bath, a milky drink, turn off your technology and get into the routine of winding down before you get into bed.  Follow the rules and you’ll sleep like a baby. Sleeping angel.

Except you probably won’t.

Are you like me, is this what happens next?   Your thoughts suddenly go into overdrive, then you get a quaintly called, ear worm that plays you a random song.  Yes, I’ve endured many a Godly hymn on a loop at a fairly ungodly hour!

Then it’s tossing and turning, plumping up the pillows, going to the loo, throwing covers off, doing some deep breathing, counting sheep or stars, and more than likely going to the loo again, just to be on the safe side.

Nothing works, how frustrating it all is.

The experts tell us to distract our minds. Get up, and go into another room. I wonder what you are supposed to do in ‘the other room’.

Remember the ‘ no technology, no screens’ mantra, which rules out watching Emmerdale on catch up, and attempting The Times crossword is probably best avoided too.

I head for the kitchen. Tea and toast is my preferred middle of the night distraction. I laugh in the face of the minuscular shot of caffeine from Yorkshires finest brew, the way I’m feeling it can’t make me feel any worse!  Toast.

The dog raises his head as the waft of my toast and peanut butter finds his nose, but he’s enjoying a lovely rabbity dream, and carries on snoozing.  Let sleeping dogs lie, and all that.

They say the longest hours are just before dawn, but for me, and some of you, I know the longest hours are ALL the hours you are not sleeping!

Around this point, I often wonder what is the most civilised time to emerge from the bedroom to start the day, and what will I do once I get up.  It’s too early to start hovering, and I’ve already had my breakfast, hours ago when the moon was still shining.

But on saying a cheery ‘Good Morning’ to your nearest and dearest, and commenting on your disturbed night, isn’t it so annoying when some bright spark says to you. ‘You just think you didn’t sleep, you probably weren’t awake for very long at all’

You mutter in a fairly forceful tone, ‘actually, I was awake all night’, but they never believe you.

Does the insomnia fairy rent a room in your house too?