Archive for March 2007

If Electric Toothbrushes Could Talk

March 28, 2007

Every morning and every evening Kirstie shows she loves me. 
In ways so small – they could easily be missed.
Whenever I brush my teeth – I always find that Kirstie has replaced her (pink) removable head of our electric toothbrush for my (blue) removable head – so that its nice and ready for me to use.
After a while, you could cynically think that she doesn’t change the heads at all – and just brushes her teeth with my (blue) removable head the whole time.
But I know this isn’t the the case.

I know this because, from time to time – very occasionally – when I get to the toothbrush, the removable head hasn’t been changed.
And this only seems to happen when Kirstie is pissed off with me.  Usually, I haven’t a clue over what…  But the (pink) toothbrush head is a clue, or sometimes the very first signal, that something is wrong…  And its always about something “I should be able to guess”.
She says its not true – she is in a hurry sometimes and hasn’t time to even think about my (blue) removable toothbrush head.
But I know there’s something wrong.

Maybe she’s got the arse with me because I never think to change the toothbrush back to her (pink) removable head.

26.JPGNEEDLE RATING… 2.6 (idling)


Guys Never Ask For Help.

March 26, 2007

I touched on a Universal Truth in my last post, and it’s a complaint often levelled against men.
Yet the following situation still crops up:
ME (from outside):
“Honey, could you… Could you get me the screwdriver?”

Which is met with an equally reasonable response.
“Why are you ordering me around?”
“Why don’t you get it yourself.”
Or “Why are you calling me honey?”
Or best still, complete silence.
(Thus communicating that she isn’t  happy with me at the moment, possibly due to reasons entirely unrelated to the screwdriver).

Loft LaddersBut here’s the thing:
Guys Never Ask For Help.

So if you hear something like
“Honey, could you… Could you get me the screwdriver?” in the distance.  You’d better believe that your guy has a car balanced precariously over his head.

Or “Darling, could you…  Could you come and hold the ladder for a sec?”
I guarantee you he is already up it about to drop a great height… along with the contents of your attic.

The urge to discuss and communicate with a response such as
“You know, my thing that I’m doing is just as important as yours” or
“Don’t use that tone with me – I’m not your slave”
is entirely understandable.

But Guys Never Ask For Help.

So maybe… just maybe it might be best to save sharing and discussing feelings for a better time…
Like when you’re with him in the ambulance.
Or holding what’s left of his hand in Casualty.

26.JPGNEEDLE RATING…  2.8  (idling)

Robert Dyas

March 25, 2007

20070327_147robertdyas.JPGThe greatest single aspect of moving has without doubt been the excuse to spend wh-ay too much time in ROBERT DYAS.

Robert Dyas shops to me are like Accessorize and Monsoon are to my girlfriend.  Stuffed full of sockets and leads and gadgets, mainly gadgets.  Not even cool ones.  Just things like kitchen appliances no more complicated than “juicer” or “slow cooker” – things which are there solely to get the job done.

I bet Robert Dyas is a really cool guy to hang around with.  I like to think he’d offer to help hold the spirit level when I’m trying to put up the new Rotary Dryer in the garden.
But I expect he’d be too busy putting up shelves or something.

Hallway light, not fixed, and blown all lights on the floorI tried putting up a light fitting last week, and managed to trip the entire ground floor lighting circuit.  I just needed some time to pace (up and down, in the darkness) and have a little think before diving in again with a screwdriver.

Trying to be helpful, my girlfriend blurted out something  – she knew what she had done the moment she hit the penultimate syllable, and you could actually see the judder in her face as she tried to stop the sentence:-
“Hey, Caroline (my sister) is coming over later.  Maybe Jeff (my brother-in-law) could take a look at it – he’s good at (realises here) el… electrical… things”

The reason she stuttered was that she realised she was effectively saying “why dont you come round Accessorize with me, and pick out some nice hair bands, then we can spend the afternoon trying on clothes “.

My New Clean Drill BitGuys never ask for help.
Accepting help is a last resort.  It’s, pretty much, an admission of failure of one’s gender.  It allows all the other hunters to laugh, and say, you go over there for a bit – we’ll sort it out.

I think Kirstie felt guilty – I found my drill bit in the washing up.  Maybe she cleaned it for me.
Least, that’s what I’d like to think.

30.JPGNEEDLE RATING…   3.1 (increased revs, grating)

Gordon Brown

March 21, 2007

gordonbrown.jpgWe had our first political discussion at our new dining table this morning, and discovered that we both don’t like the stick Gordon Brown gets for being a bit aloof- a bit distant.

We actually think our country should be lead by someone who acts a bit like a Victorian Politician. 

We want a Prime Minister who looks like they’re more likely to use The Birch, not myspace.

26.JPGNEEDLE RATING…  2.1 (idling)