Oh! The jiggery pokery!

Knees bent, arms stretched, rah-rah-rah.... ...sorry.

By now, you should have a fair idea that I am a great fan of wordplay, both intelligent and base. In case you aren't too sure what I mean by those terms, the difference comes when you have the reaction of either 'heh - clever' or 'hurr-hurr-hurr'. And just in case you still aren't sure, here's a handy visual guide.

"I see what you did there."                         "He said bottom... pfffff!"

However, I am erratic. Sometimes, it takes me far longer to 'get' a gag - but then there will be times when I am stuck in a manic free-associating mode, and almost everything is twistable. And yes, Julie usually tends toward the latter mode.

That's not to say that everything that comes off the cuff* is 'naughty'. Many people, mostly professional comedians, thrive on firing out barrages of clever little gags (Milton Jones comes to mind), or comebacks to snide comments/hecklers. A lot of what I say, when I want to twist the meaning of another person's sentence, will tend towards the less cerebral, shall we say. The thing is, by doing that, I am training everyone to believe that will be all I would come out with. The my fun really begins; firing off on bizarre tangents, people will start laughing at the joke they expected to hear and then go blank and say, "wait, what?"

If this is sounding familiar to you, I'm not surprised. You've been reading about Julie doing this to me and others for a few years now...

Now and then, though, I screw up. I will say something without really thinking about it and fall foul of my own methods (this recent slip comes to mind)...

Changing the scene a little, now.

Until recently, I was out of work. Now, I have a part-time job in a factory, dealing with soaps, bath lotions and tanning products. As such, we have large cubic tanks of the appropriate chemicals at the start of the line feeding into the bottles. On Monday night, we were dealing with a foaming handwash. While it's cleaner than, say, tanning mousse, it's still a bit of a bugger if it is spilled, because it is incredibly liquid, and moving the tanks around is a process carried out with great care.

When it came to hanging one tank for another, a colleague set to removing the empty tank, while I got the full one. Moving very slowly to avoid sloshing the handwash, it seems I was concentrating more on my work than my words...

Oops.
It was fortunate that my colleague had the empty tank, as he was laughing far too hard to be careful with it. Meanwhile, this was the look our team leader gave me...

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* Hurr hurr hurr...

Daylight rubbery

Time for a little geekery. I am a relatively recent convert to the card game known as Magic; The Gathering.

I won't go into details, just to say that you have to beat opponents using cards featuring fantasy creatures, spells and enchantments. It can be quite competitive, and there are usually a lot of events going on each month. Currently, the Magic community is gearing up for the release of a new set of cards (Theros), one based around the ideas of Greek mythology.

It's been pretty hectic, as there have been a couple of pre-release events over this weekend just gone. In these, we got to see the cards and play with them for the first time in a couple of organised tournaments.

On the Saturday, I played spectacularly badly and wound up last of about thirty people - but at least I had fun. Yesterday was a tad different. For one thing, we were playing in teams of two. For another, me and my teammate actually had the temerity to place second.

Sweet.

Back to the Saturday, though. One player, who was there for both days, was toting around a foot-tall statuette of some Greek-style chappie, all in the name of a little extra luck.* For one match, he was placed against a young lady. Sixteen years of age, looks a bit older and swears like a trooper. Oh, and you can hear her from the other side of a crowded room, which means that little snippets tend to intrude on your thoughts.

...I don't want to know....

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* A pity, then that his team was one of the ones we beat yesterday.... hehehehe...

Man, that's one bitchin' dog!

As mentioned before on numerous occasions, we are fond of dogs and other animals. Unable to own a pet ourselves (house rental rules, lack of funds and unwillingness to leave social animals on their own if we work all day), we will often visit wildlife and rescue centres. Recent trips have taken in The British Wildlife Centre, Raystede Animal Welfare Centre and the Last Chance Animal Rescue centre.

All three are very worthy places; however, LCAR is a very small operation, and very much a shoestring operation. As the name implies, it is very much a place of final hopes for the animals involved. The last time we went, there was a Staffie cross-breed by the name of Roxie. She had been there for a while and was very subdued. I eventually managed to coax her into coming to the fence and I squatted down to get closer and have a little chat with her. She sniffed at me and then allowed me to poke my fingers through the links of the fence (WARNING! NOT TO BE DONE WITH EVERY ANIMAL!).

Picture taken from LCAR site.

We bonded quickly, which was stupid of me really, because it had got Roxy's hopes up and when we had to go, she began to whimper and wail. It broke my heart.

When we visited LCAR the next time, I noticed Roxy's cage still had her details on it, but there was no sight of her. She may not be a puppy any more, but I would seriously adopt her and I can't understand why nobody has yet done so.

Other dogs, however, were not so sweet and friendly. The various Jack Russells were especially vocal. And then there was Tim.

Picture from LCAR site.

'Lively' is right. As soon as anyone hoved into view, Tim went berserk, jumping all round his cage and barking his head off. Also walking around was a family (Mum, Dad and two teenage daughters). Unlike us, they definitely were in the market for a pet, and were treating each animal with a little more scrutiny than we gave. When they reached Tim, he began his maniac bark-and-bounce routine, only calming down after he was sure the family were no real threat.

And then we arrived.

After Tim had calmed down once more, I approached the cage carefully. This was no meek Roxy, after all. I did try to be friendly, chatting to him in a calm, happy tone, but all he did was bark himself hoarse.
I moved away, and Julie took my place. For some reason Tim didn't try to assault her eardrums, but quieted down. He still wasn't happy, but he wasn't noisily hyper any more.

I commented dryly that Tim didn't appeared to have come from Thailand...
The family, who had remained nearby, laughed heartily.

Obviously, Julie had meant to imply that Tim was more of a ladies' man... er, dog.

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PS

Raystede currently have a donation drive to help them treat the hedgehogs that they have been treating. If want to donate, then visit the appropriate web page HERE.

A half-half laugh

Some time ago, we were browsing the internet, looking for things to fuel our joint obsession. No, not naughty cigarettes, I'm referring (not reefer-ing) to our shared interest in hedgehogs.

Spike, Julie and their mascot, Reynard.

Originally simply my own mania, once Julie came to the Spiny Side, she quite happily fell in with my ways. We now have a glass-fronted cabinet quite literally crammed with various hedgehog figures - plus an echidna or two - a large amount of plush 'hog toys, and various other related knick-knacks. Reynard even has his own Facebook page, although he hasn't updated it since he got married and went on honeymoo.... what the hell am I even saying? It's a puppet!

Sheesh...

See? I said it was an obsession.

Any way, on a little stroll through the internet, we happened to chance upon a site that sold items of clothing with, among many other things, hedgehog-related images and phrases. We were particularly taken with a cap.

Yes, I know it's 'shopped. They make them to order.

Since I see myself as having many characteristics in common with hedgehogs (small, round and prickly), I thought this would be great for me. And as it happens, they also make one for the ladies. Yes, 'Half woman, half hedgehog'. If you fancy one, you can visit the [Australian] site HERE.

I suggested that we could sport matching titfers;* Julie, however, seemed to want a different cap made...

Famously so. I keep meaning to visit their shows; they're meant to be highly entertaining.

Visit the Ladyboys' site here.

* 'Titfer' = 'Tit for tat' = hat. Cockney rhyming slang, don'tyeknow.

Webcomic - Foot in Mouth Training.

I dislike having headaches. I get far too many of them, despite dietary changes, medication and various other things. The headaches I get generally mean I am unable to concentrate, or I am too light-sensitive to cope with much of anything.
Unfortunately, this includes looking at a bright screen, trying to think of something funny to say.

Having missed out on prep time last night, today's Gem will therefore be a simple sharing of a webcomic.
Safe Havens is a comic all about inclusivity and the inter-relationships of a set of friends and family. Some are dead, others don't rightly exist at this time. Oh and Dodos are back, just like they are in the Jasper Fforde Books. You know what I'm talking about; the book I'm handing out for World Book Night in our free prize draw.*

>ahem<

Where was I - oh, yes.
Safe Havens is one of Bill Holbrook's many  projects, three of which are webcomics. Safe Haven I have mentioned, but there are also On The Fastrack and Kevin And Kell. Oh. You know I said SH was all about inclusivity? Well, it's still not got anything on K&K. Trust me.

At the moment in Safe Havens, one of the central characters is preparing for her wedding. There's a problem, though. She's also due to go on tour, playing the drums as part of a backing band for a best-selling singer. The stress must be getting to her, because her brain seems to have switched off here...

Oooops.
Trust your best mates to treat a slip of the tongue with all the dignity it deserves, too.
Read more at safehavenscomic.com

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*Heh. I know. Subtle, I'm not. There's still plenty of time to enter our free draw, with prizes sent anywhere in the world. Just email us with your name at juliesgems@gmx.com

A beast in a bad place

Eastbourne is a seaside town, and as such has a history of providing activities and places for tourists. One of these places is Princes Park.

It's a pleasant place, with a recently renovated play area for the kiddies, a small lake for model boats and feeding the birds. There is also a bowling green and a small putting course, and a series of nicely planted walkways. On the Eastern side, there is a decent sized grassy area for staging events such as circuses and concerts. When the Olympics were on this year, the council erected a massive screen so people could come and watch various events and ceremonies - all for free.

One of the attractions from days of yore has lapsed nowadays. More commonly associated with Blackpool, Julie recalls that there used to be donkey rides in Prince Park.

Julie also recalls not being too keen on the idea. Her mother, however, seemed to be very fond of it and repeatedly asked the young girl that was Julie then if she would like to have a ride. As I say though, Julie remembers this with fondness, but also a certain determination. She never wanted to ride a donkey, and she never did.
Mind you, she could have phrased it better when she told me about it all.

...no comment.

Pistachios; nuts, not seeds, but very possibly seedy.

Sorry about the delay, folks; I'm still trying to get back into the swing of things...

When my German friend came for a visit, he arrived bearing gifts - mostly food and drink. It turns out that he had also been informed by a mutual friend that I am rather partial to pistachio nuts, so he bought three bags for me. Two packs had the shells on, but one was salted and the other simply roasted. The third pack contained shelled pistachios. Shelled and skinned, but unroasted and unsalted.

(In answer to your unspoken question, yes, they are meant to be green.
They're also one of the healthiest nuts you can eat and they last ages.)

When I opened the pack of shelled nuts, to see such a vivid green was interesting. Julie was a tad perturbed, until I pointed out that was how they were when free of shell, skin and salt.

I tell you - I nearly choked on my nuts.
Um.
Perhaps I should rephrase that...

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For more information on pistachios, drop by this site.

How not to begin a conversation

(Just a quick note; this doesn't feature Julie at all)

So, a colleague of mine, R, is working away, packing up a few boxes and sending them down the line. He's the only one around at this point. Or he is until B comes along. For a minute or two, they're working side by side and then B offers this as an opening conversational gambit.

At this point, B realises what he has just said and, more importantly, implied about R's bathing regime and starts laughing and babbling an apology at the same time.

Naturally, work places being what they are, everyone got to hear about this in less time than it takes to tape a box closed. It's just as well R is an understanding man with a sense of humour - in fact I think he's enjoyed ribbing B about it quite a bit.

Later on, I asked B what he had actually been referring to. Apparently, you can now buy footballs that have an odour. This smelled a bit off to me, so i thought I would have a look-see for myself via the all-encompassing power of Google.

Not a thing. I may have to call B out on this one...

**UPDATED**

Courtesy of 9Gag, I finally found something that shows B isn't mistaken.

I'm actually intrigued by the instruction to not bounce by the road. Surely that's what you want to buy the ball for...

Fancy a mouthful of perverted prawn?

This weekend is shaping up to be a busy one. Friday night (tonight), we are going to a local production of the Madness-themed musical 'Our House' and then the following morning, it's up to London for a makeover, photoshoot and interview for Julie, regarding the weight loss surgery she had a couple of years ago. It's been an amazing journey and it's done her the world of good, both physically and mentally. Before, Julie would hug the walls and avoid being seen in public, but all of a sudden, she's the most gregarious of people, and I like that a lot.
That aside, because things are going to be a little hectic when we get home from work, it was agreed we would have a take-out the night before, ordering enough for the two nights; this meant all we'd have to do is whack some left-overs in the microwave and have a half-decent meal before heading out again.

For this time around, we decided to have Chinese. Now, if you are anything like us, you probably have a favourite place to go to for your Indian food, the Chinese, pizza, etc... Again, if you are anything like us, you have a benchmark dish. By that, I mean a certain food that you order often enough that you can use it to compare various restaurants and take-outs with. With Indian food, for me, it's chicken biryani. For Chinese food, it's the starter, prawn toast. With prawn (or shrimp. Whatever.) toast, the toast has to be crispy and there has to be a decent amount of topping. I remember I had some once from a take-out my sister used to use and the topping was a smear of rubbery ... something, and the toast was a soggy mess of grease. Guess where I spent much of the next day or so.
This is what a decent bit of prawn toast should look like.

Nice and crispy underneath, plenty of sesame seeds on top and enough minced prawn in the middle to use as a parking block for a 747. Yum! Just don't try moving too much afterwards, OK?
There's only one slight problem with having such a generous portion of prawn; that much juicy, minced filling tends to mean a certain amount of leakage when you bite into a piece. Sometimes, 'leak' isn't the right word. Try, instead, 'spurt'. Or, as Julie puts it...

I am so very glad I wasn't eating or drinking right at that precise moment. How about y... oh, sorry. Here, have a tissue...

A Gem in the hand is worth cash in the bank

As I have said before (and probably will do many more times in the future), a lot of the best Gems appear just as I'm writing the previous one down. This places me in the difficult position of making a snap decision - do I stick with the one I'm jotting down and run the risk of completely losing the new Gem, or do I find a fresh clear bit of paper, hastily scribble the new arrival and hope that I can piece together the previous one from that little I managed to record?
Believe me, it's often a difficult decision and I've lost many grade-A Gems by making the wrong choice.

Today's second Gem falls into the category of 'new arrival'. I can't recall the fate of the Gem this one interrupted, but it was worth keeping for the thoughtful debate it's inspired.

Hmm. It's just possible this Gem should be tagged/labelled as a Freudian Slip, you know. After I managed to get everything written down, me and Julie started talking about the possibility of making money from her little slips. After some discussion, we agreed that the only way would be to print some of them up as one of those little books that everyone seems to get for Christmas (and then either bins or gives to a charity shop).
Alternatively, especially with the rate Julie can chuck these things out, we could have a Gem-a-day calendar...

Any ideas, folks?

Tomorrow, for Frivolous Friday, mo' money, mo' death (oops).