New Stop-Smoking Method for Certain Phobics?

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I had something unusual happen to me this afternoon. Something that’s never happened before, something I have never even heard of in my over-40 years on this planet…

When I went for my usual 12:30 smoke break, my lighter wouldn’t light. It’s a disposable one, and it was sparking just fine so the flint wasn’t gone. I could see their was still fluid in it, too. Sometimes a cheapo lighter won’t light when it is too cold, but it was 10 C out, so that wasn’t the problem either.

I kept trying, as you do, while looking around for a fellow smoker to bum a light from if my lighter was truly dead. One two three four five six… suddenly there was a glob of something sticky and wet on my sparking-thumb. It looked like a bloody blackened booger (bogey).

“What the fuck?” said I, as I wiped it off on the wall. On further inspection, there was something slimy and brown on the roller wheel of my lighter. I had a tissue in my pocket and wiped the goop off, and as I did so I saw something inside my lighter.

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In there. (Chapstick tube for scale)

Now, I’ve found pocket-lint in that little space, but I have never seen legs before.

Legs that once belonged to a spider that got sucked up into the wheel and smushed onto my thumb.

I have to wonder how it got in there, and when. Overnight seems most plausible, which means it may or may not have survived a lot of small fires before I sparked it to death. But I suppose it could have crawled inside in the hour since my last cig. Wee spidereen could have fallen into my hi-vis vest pocket, and decided to hide in the smallest place possible.

But in any case: I had a spider just inches from my eyes, nose and mouth that could have – should have! – jumped out to safety onto my face.

If that won’t make any arachnophobic smokers quit, I don’t know what will!

Sadly, I’m rather fond of spiders, and my smokey-treats.

Ruined Aromas

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I’m hoping this will be a comment-heavy post. I think we’ve all experienced what I want to talk about, but I can’t remember anyone discussing it before. So off we go!

‘Ruined aromas.’ By that, I mean when a favourite (or at least pleasant) scent has been destroyed in your heart/mind/nose forever by an association that you just can’t break.

My examples that made me write this:

Back in my mid-twenties, I used to really like a certain spray air freshener. Forget what it was, something totally artificial and weird. Cranberry-mulberry or some shit like that. Thankfully, nothing that is found in nature after what happened to ruin it forever for me. In any case, I liked it, and bought it for light use at home – to cover smoking stink, dirty cat litter wafts, and various and numerable dog-smells.

Until…. someone bought it for use in the bathrooms at work. Now, while our own poo doesn’t smell of roses (if it does, you should see your doctor or change your diet), the smell of a stranger’s shit is just plain disgusting. The smell of a stranger’s shit with half a can of air freshener sprayed on top is worse. Oh so very much worse when that spray is familiar and a scent you used to) like. I tried to enjoy it again at home, and the smell-memory just wouldn’t leave me. Tossed in the bin – and you all know I hate wasting anything.

More recently, we got some lemon-scented antibacterial cleaning spray. It smelled nice; a light lemon scent.

Then the dog shit all over the spare room for two days and our only cleaner had a nice, light lemon scent. Let me say that the two odours didn’t combine well, and now I can’t use the stuff at all anymore without imagining that I also smell dog diarrhoea. You can also thank me for not describing in detail the visuals I also recall on smelling this particular cleaning product.

My disgust seems to center around poo. Hmmm.

While I probably border on being a super-taster, and super-smeller, I am sure that this has happened to you, too. Let’s hear it, and remember you can tell me all the really gross stuff and it will be fabulous!

If You Give a Cat a Lollipop…

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I still have leftover Halloween sweets/candy. Last night I was sitting in front of the fireplace, my Siamese boy Lokii on my lap (as always when fire is nearby), and I had a rare hankering for sugar. I displaced Lokii long enough to grab a Chupa Chup lollipop (or sucker, whatever you call ‘em) from the kitchen, and returned to warm our mutual arses in front of the lovely fire.

Lokii – being a feline stomach on legs – wanted to know what I kept sticking into my mouth. So I let him have a sniff.

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He was interested. The flavour was strawberries and cream, after all.

Most of us have heard that cats cannot taste sweet. So I wonder what, exactly, made him want my sucker so badly? What did he think it tasted like?

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Because he loved it.

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He looks like a demented Orc from the Lord of the Rings films.

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Nom nom nom!

The Man Who Talks to Cheese.

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Hubby has been cooking this evening. He’s now making dinner, but earlier it was a low-carb pumpkin bake thingie.

After his earlier effort, he is now well into his habit of talking to things that aren’t able to answer.

Shall I type up some of the nonsense he is saying? Yes, yes I will:

O M G, W T F, B B Q! (Yes he said each letter)

Well, I’m talking to chicken now, brilliant! (This is because I was teasing him about being the Man Who Talks to Cheese)

Nothing for cats! (He’s cutting up raw chicken; we give the good bits to the cats and whatever is left to the dog)

Spotty, watch your little paw, fucking hell cat! Spotty! Fucking hell dog-cat-whatever-your-name-is.

Not much for kitties but I’m working on it.

Shhh, I’m coming (whispered to Lokii who also never shuts up) shhh, bits for kitties… Shhh

Oh it’s gonna be less than…oh (garbled) seven minutes…it’s okay. Shhh, coming. (I think this means he heard me light a smoke, which takes me 7 minutes to finish. It was oddly silent so he could hear the lighter spark)

Just wait, alright? Coming. (To Lokii, again) shhh.

Spotty watch your little paw, I’m cutting stuff. Heeeeeeeeee. (Very unmanly giggle)

Fuk fuckit.

That’s my fucking hand, you idiot! Sure didn’t the baby Jesus tell you not to bite the hand that feeds you? Sure no he didn’t.

More for cats, nearly gone…

Alright Spotty that’s it, I’m not going through all this goop. A little more. Oh, Spotty! You want more? That’s it, that’s it. (Calling for the dog) Neko! Oh Spotty you want more? There is no more! Here take that, for fuck’s sake cat! Here.

I’m not spending the evening cutting up human food for cats! Okay Mrs (me), any time you are ready! (Because I’m in charge of the sauce part)

Hope you enjoyed a little glimpse into what it is like to live with a man who talks CONSTANTLY.

Love you anyway, iDJ!

I Am Gunna Do Something Crazy-Fun…

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I have just committed to WALKING ON FIRE next Thursday.

Yep.

I think the first time I saw someone walk barefoot on hot coals was on one of those early-eighties TV shows, That’s Incredible! or maybe Real People. It was probably some “Indian Swami” who laid on a bed of nails for his next trick. I always wanted to know how walking on fire was done – and in less than a week, I’m going to find out!

I am inordinately excited about doing this. Been 43 years on this rock without someone saying, ‘Hey, want to firewalk with me?’ You bet your bippy I jumped at the chance.

My awesome Canadian friend is the one who asked, and so far I am the only taker. Would you walk on fire, if given the chance?

Creative Creepiness

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My three-year Blogavarsary has come and gone, oops!

In honour of missing my big 3: for three years, I’ve been wanting to share something special to me. And for three years, I’ve never found that ’roundtuit’ that I needed.

No more! Tonight is the night. With Halloween so very close, I can’t wait another day unless I want to wait another year. Nope.

I love – love! – to paint three-dimensional objects. I’ve not done it in many years, but I’m going to have to look into doing it again. I miss it – and as you will see – I’m good at it, dammit.

I love painting tiny details; getting it just perfect, no matter how many re-paintings I have to do.

Some of these are ceramics from a shop in Akron, Ohio, and some are cheap plaster kits from a US craft store (probably Pat Catan’s). I love all of them, no matter if they are cute and smily or creepy and realistic.

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These were painted in 1995 (I dated the bottoms). Cute n cuddly plaster stuff! The witches are my favourites and I shout “I found the bitches!” when I unwrap them every year.

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More of the same cutesy set (there are six different ones). Also some of the tiny tiny candle holders which were painted in ’92. There are two of each kind: Frankenstein’s monster, witches, and my favourite of the set, spiders in sneakers and top hats! The pumpkin is ceramic, and I can’t see the date that I made it as there’s a candle in it. I’d say about 1999/2000? I really like it.

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Squeee, my spiders in sneaks and hats! I can’t believe they are in such good shape after over 20 years.

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The pumpkin stack is one of a pair – also plaster – never really liked my work on these as they are too monochromatic. The skull stack is ceramic and newer. I broke it last week. Thank fuck for superglue.

The fairy houses in the back? Not mine. Hand carved by my amazing dad!

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My pride and joy – a huge pumpkin bowl. Ceramic, the inside is glazed hard black and can be used for food. We use it for our candy-dish when giving out treats on the big night.

Halloween Halo

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A quick one – got my iPad back finally and while it isn’t perfect, it isn’t annoying, either.

Poor Neko gets less attention here than the cats (sorry, they are just way more adorable) so I want to share a pic of Herself for a change.

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Okay, so she has laser-eyes. Okay, so I really really need to cut her toenails. Okay, so there just happens to be a skull on the floor behind her… Still, isn’t she dammed cute as she kills that toy?

I’m not dead…

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…but my iPad is. I’m borrowing hubby’s work one to write this, but it has no photos, no history, and it isn’t MINE.

MINE fell on its face and shattered, and it’s been quite the ordeal to get it fixed. My old one also has developed issues and is unusable. I hate this, but what do you do? Might have it back on Tuesday.

So, it’s been three weeks since I’ve been able to do anything bloggy. Thanks for noticing my absence – insert small sarcastic huff here – but I find the WP reader annoying and prefer to get my new blog post updates via email. Which is pointless on an iPhone as I can’t hardly see the damn thing; and typing a comment? fugeddaboutit. Man-hands: I have man-hands. Old-man-hands. Big fat fumbly callused fingers. Trust me. I’d be responding with things like, “Yesssh Iagree nd I also tink thiis harhar har”.

To ease my pain of lack of blogging, I’ve been posting random shit on FB that I’d normally put here. I don’t think my ‘real life’ friends appreciate my randomness as much as you lot, and dammit I sure miss you. I’m sorry, very sorry! that my Precious fell on her face and turned into something full of shards of glass I couldn’t allow into my bed. Oh yes, I read 2-3 books a week on the iPad, too. My constant companion, actually. *sniffle *

I can’t even put up a decent photo to show my shame.