ALL MY BORN DAYS what on this warming at a dramatically fast rate (THE POLAR CAPS!) Earth is that saying about?
What I was going to say/type/spew was that for as long as I am alive and come to think about it steady enough of hand* to pour out the drinks (pray be a long time) I don�t think I will ever not over fill a glass. I am an expert in supping from a glass so full it has to stand on a flat surface until I have slurped half an inch (ooooh dirty). If we are talking a little more dry and crisp and placed provocatively in a **wooden section on a shelf in the shop then I am the expert on fizz trickling down glass stems. What you must do in such an emergency is snatch the glass most swiftly lest any escapes and is lost forever. That is not to say that in the right company (and when is it not hmm) you can�t lick that baby right up from wherever it falls.
* Today my three second worry was in the discovering that I felt generally shaky***. Then I thought back to the eight Gin and tonics I drank yesterday and felt much better that I wasn�t just falling apart with no apparent reason.
** Expensive bottles get their own wooden section or a display the function of which is to partition and segregate them from the more special offer, �1.99 bottles.
*** There are general shakes and acute shakes. My father has acute shakes which become noticeable when, for instance, watching him try to pour milk into tea or do anything involving hand eye coordination. My dad is so lovely and funny. Not that it relates to the shakes but I just don�t want to be all �dad is a pisshead�. He has just treated himself to a cement mixer and has asked for a lawnmower for Christmas. Last Christmas he got a mighty fucking sledgehammer. We wrapped it all nicely in pretty paper. I think maybe I am going to ask for one this year.
Today I did some serious damage to two of my fingers. I slammed them in a big old filing cabinet drawer. I know what you are thinking about a puny little filing cabinet but this one is twice the size and twice as mean and takes both arms to pull the drawers open (or one mighty heave from a good arm). I have bruises and blood (ok the blood has been washed away but the bruises are all mine) to prove that my precious little digits are damaged. This comes a week after the very same filing cabinet nearly garrotted me when my necklace got shut in a drawer.
I felt guilty this afternoon because I was looking after a baby and realised the baby monitor volume was down too low during his nap time. Low and behold he was actually awake and not peacefully sleeping - damn that baby sleep so quiet. Thankfully he was happily gurgling away to himself �oowar oowar� (the boy has a somewhat strange love of hoovers). I could just imagine going in and finding a tear stained sobbing infant wide awake feeling alone and unloved. Or even worse a very pissed off infant.
Inkysoso ran out of steam