Friday

Climb Every Mountain

Been doing a lot of thinking over the past couple of days... you know, the usual...

...When will the DVD of Little Britain series 2 be available to buy in Canada and when will David Walliams make an appearance in Canada so I can bear his children... why does my cat have to scratch the walls as if they were scratch'n'sniff stickers... why does my hot pepper plant grow like it is going out of style while my supposed green peppers grow to the size of a pea, turn red and then die... why does Suzy Rawn keep ending up in the bottom three... why are boys so complicated... things of that nature.

It is the last ponderance that has caused the most reflection... as if you are all surprised... although the Little Britain one came in a very close second. What can I say, I am a fickle Bea.

What to do, what to do. Well, first of all, I have been trying to come up with a delightfully witty way of telling Insulty McInsult... you remember him. He's the one who insinuated that my singleness was due to the fact that I preferred to actually meet people rather than chat with them over the internet. It has been two weeks now, and besides the encounter last Saturday where he accused me of inviting him to an orgy full of psychotic ugly people, I have not really heard much from him, let alone seen any effort to try to meet in person. If anyone has any ideas on how to write a brilliant "I told you so moron... thank you byebye" type of correspondence let me know and I shall include it. Oh, you're right, I could let it go... and I very well might... I just so like being right dammit!!! And besides, I wouldn't touch this guy with a 10 foot pole at this point... just having a bit of a laugh people... that's all.

Secondly... I am finding the gents that have been coming my way of late just plain boring... Is there no one exciting left out there? I am convinced no, perhaps with the exception of my little English visitor who will be arriving in a weeks' time... So, let me re-phrase that... Is there no one exciting left who actually lives remotely near me? I am convinced no. No exceptions on that one.
Furthermore... well, actually, there is no furthermore. No wait....

If you do not hear from me for sometime, it is because, after two very long minutes of dwelling on how much I, after all my years on this earth, can be so completely lacking in my abilities to understand the male gender... have decided that my only course of action is the enter a convent.

Behold, the (soon to be) new Beatrice:



Ok, so this this isn't me right now, but give it about 40 years or so... you get the picture. I think the most difficult thing for me to give up... besides the lately infrequent pleasures of the carnal nature, will be the swearing. For those who do not know me in person, you may not be aware of this, but in the real world, Bea cusses like a sailor. Every second word is "effing" this, or "effing" that. People at work accept it only because I have told them I have Tourette's but I think some of them suspect otherwise... effing bastards. I clean up the blog because one never knows when small children will stumble across it... bless their effing little hearts. Anyway, it'll be difficult but I think it can be done. Wish me luck everyone!

Sister Beatrice Mary Elizabeth Petty of the Sacred Heart

3 comments:

art said...

Say it isn't so! Bea a nun!?

mollyblogger said...

I know I support most of what you choose to do with your life, but I don't know about this career move, Bea.

To be frank, I don't know if I could live with a nun.

Instead of taking up the cloth, why don't you just take up an all-consuming hobby until you've got entirely no time left for those stupid men and their wily ways...

That's when you'll find one, y'know.

I'm sure Sod would agree.

LuckySpinster said...

when i was a little girl i wanted to be a nun. then i learned i wasn't catholic and i wept.