Ahem. I am home from work sick. I need to giggle. Come forth, my inner Miss Bates, and produce three things very dull indeed, but sweet enough to make you smile.
Item 1: stumbled-upon facebook status update
Has anyone PLEASE got a flute we can borrow, I seem to have signed *** up for flute by mistake and I do not want to buy one!!! And we’ve been asked to bring one to school!! He’s got no front teeth, he can’t play the flute anyway.
But the mother of all stay-at-home mothers is Charlene, who, by the age of 27, has got six kids, all home-schooled and called some combination of her name and husband Terry’s – Techar, Chartel, Charmar, Cherry, Telsee, and Chantee. There’s another on the way – presumably to be called Terylene…
I mean, (snort), really. It’s just as well that New Zealand have laid down such strict rules for the naming of children: no Lucifers (NZ doesn’t want anything religious), no Justices (there’s a ban on self-titling names, such as “King”) no punctuation, no numbers, no single letter names, and nothing that could be construed as offensive. A lucky escape, then, for youngsters “facing a life explaining that their names really are Mafia No Fear, V8, Anal or 89.”
This lovely, precocious work from a youth called Caleb Yule who lives in Brighton. A pretty video with great soundtrack.
I’m off to get coke, to soothe my stomach…