I became flummoxed this morning when sitting on the bus.  A water tower had appeared, seemingly overnight, as if by magic.  It strikes me as odd that I can get the same bus [same as in time, not same as in same one, d’oh!] every morning for six months, sitting in [more or less, we’re very territorial when it comes to seats, us bus users] the same seat each time, and yet never see a humongous water tower en route.  When I saw a a chap jog past the water tower I wondered whether he was a regular fixture and my mind had simply chosen not to see him on past journeys. 

Perhaps it’s simply that neither really exist and I was dreaming.  Or some evil aliens had planted them as a prelude to world domination.  I suspect that by tomorrow my dimwitted memory will forget to remind me to check and by the time I do remember four months will have passed and I’ll be getting a different bus, on a different route, to work. 


This evening we watched the documentary about chavs made by chav wannabe herself Julie Burchill.  We watched it tonight because we video’d it last night.  A-ha!  The only thing I have to say about Julie-Burchill-Chav-Wannabe is that she has no understanding of chav culture, she obviously doesn’t know any ‘real’ chavs [despite claiming to be one], she has a silly voice, she’s the most unintelligent presenter/reporter I’ve ever seen, she hadn’t done any research and she basically made me laugh till my knickers were damp from peeing them.  And that’s not to be taken in a complimentary way Mz Julie-Burchill-Chav-Wannabe: it was an insult.  Very much an insult.  Deservedly so.  And you looked shite in that Burberry skirt.  Chav-ness should be left to the young’uns, not oldies like yourself.  Grow up and smell the shite you come out with. 

And speaking of chavs: Little Miss Chav has said that she’ll make me a little chav Burberry bag tomorrow to go with the cushion she made me. Yay!  And Green Day Lover Two-Toned Hair [definitely not a chav, but definitely owner of a sense of humour] has a little pink Burberry badge with the words chav-ette immortalised on it.  Hmmm, how to surreptitiously steal it …

Enough chav talk … it’s hard not to love ’em when you know how truly vulnerable and in need of each other they are … awww, bless their little blingness …


The Evil One handed me the Baton of Music and I feel compelled to partake.  Especially since I’ve been waiting for yonks for someone to pass it to me … *jumps up and down wildly whilst clapping and making noises like a seal on heat* …

1. Total amount of music files on your computer:

Um.  A fair few?  Before Blessed iTunes came into my life I had just three music files.  Weird Al’s Amish song, the Travis cover of Britney Spears’ Hit Me Baby, One More Time, and Green Day’s Good Riddance (Time of Your Life).  All three of which bring back happy-sad memories.

2. The last CD you bought was:

We know this one … Shelter’s Mantra

3. What was the last song you listened to before reading this message:

Silence is Easy by Starsailor.

4. Write down five songs that you often listen to or mean a lot to you:

i) Goodnight Eliz[s]abeth (Counting Crows).  I only really discovered it recently and now I want it played at my funeral.  Morbid?  Yes, but it’s good to plan these events. 

ii) Good Riddance (Time of Your Life) (Green Day).  Like I said above, it provokes happy-sad memories and has meaning/significance relating to a particular time in my life … 

iii) One of Us (Joan Osborne).  I picked it up on a second-hand market stall and used it in lessons when we were studying God and what he/she means to people who have faith.  It brings back the most amazing memories of teaching and the intelligent, wonderful, yet slightly annoying, teenagers I used to teach.  The sort of kids who knew how to use their brains and whatnot.  I miss them. 

iv) Bright Eyes (Manics and/or any version).  It was released [B-side] at the same time that my paternal nana died in 1996.  It made me sob into my pillow a few times every day.  It always provokes the happy memories I have that involve her.

v) Velveteen (Transvision Vamp).  As a fifteen year old I found it very erotic and yet very poignant.  And at the time it wasn’t even poignant for me.  Nifty, eh?

5. Who are you passing the baton to, and why?

The Baby Brother [let’s get something started over at Blogger] and Susannah because I know that she hasn’t done it yet.  Or I think she hasn’t.  But I can’t be arsed to check since it’s nearly bed-time … *yawn* … Awww heck, do it if you want and you haven’t yet.  Join the fandangly fun …

please God bless the music in each of us and let us bop along to it in our own unique ways xxx Elsabeth

12 comments

  1. Blast. Now I have to do it. No actually I was hoping someone would pass the baton to me. I’m curious to see what my answers will be.I feel creeped out that I gave you a song you want played at your funeral. Yet at the same time it makes me feel important.

  2. I don’t know anyone who likes Julie Burchill. I like Germaine Greer. She’s got balls.Oh, okay then. I’ll waste ten minutes on this Baton of Music thing. Baby Brothers have to humour their older sisters.Lewis.Ps. Did someone say it had snowed?

  3. Bad water tower – just appearing like that, it’s just not on…anyway, I digress – the Chav programme – ohmygawd what a pile – I so wanted to slap Julie Burchill, one for spouting such a load of crap (being a chav is nothing to do with class, it’s to do with not having a brain of your own in my opinion), and two for that squeaky voice!

  4. Yes what is a chav? Now I am feeling a bit daft (to use another british term For some reason I thought YOu’d already done this quiz. Huh? Guess I’m losing it again.

  5. I love music.  How it can take you back to a particular time and place and cause those same feelings to well up inside your belly… well it does for me anyway!
    I miss things too, that I have passed seemingly hundreds of times then one day it catches my eye and I wonder how I missed it.  Though usually it’s b/c my mind is in several other places than the scenery around me.

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