Glad to see the back of her!!

When I was young I heard this expression many times “I’ll be glad to see the back of her”.  I’m not quite sure if it was my mother or my father or both or even the neighbour that used to say this from time to time and  I used to wonder what it meant.  The sentiment behind it was always unmistakably venomous so one knew that the “she” in question had better get lost real soon.  And it usually was a “her” for some reason;  ” She”, the one that the cat dragged in, the hussy who had better tow the line or else!!! “She” was a troublemaker and one to be wary of, one who it was better to see her back rather than her front.  Seeing her back meant she was going away and was no longer a threat to the general peace and quiet.  Now, seeing her “front” was cause to set off alarm bells; the offending and approaching hazard; double trouble getting nearer and nearer; panic setting in, danger looming larger and larger; Oh, What to do?.  “Can’t somebody turn her around so that we can see her back”!!!

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“How’s she cuttin’?”

What in God’s name and that of his holy mother does that mean?  Or what is she suppose to be cutting? And who the hell is she?  These are just three questions that come out of this rather peculiar question.  So, am I being like the typical Irish man (woman) here?  You know the joke:-

 

SOMEONE NON-IRISH:    Is it true you Irish always answer a question with another question?

MAD IRISH WOMAN:       Who told you that?

 

Well, in the meantime I did a little searching for the term “How’s she cuttin'”  and found out that the cutting refers to a boat cutting through the water.    And we all know what it means.  It means “How are you”.

 

So:

MAD IRISH WOMAN:  HOW’S SHE CUTTIN’?

MAD IRISH MAN:         LIKE A KNIFE

 

Is that good or bad?  Does that mean that the mad irish man is in fine form or has he a splitting headache and he feels he’s being split in two from the head down?

 

I GIVE UP.

 

 

 

a rash a reesh

Now you might have to be Irish to understand this title and even being Irish doesn’t guarantee that you will get the gist of this gibberish.  “Ar ais aris” in irish means “back again” and this play on the words, or this attempt to anglicise the irish words is me trying to be witty or funny.  I know I’m not doing a very good job but I will persist.  

You see, I have a rash on my back and I’ve had it before so I’m trying to say that I have the rash back again.  Get it?  No?  Ah well.  Don’t worry, you’re not alone.  And now I have to attend to my rash and make sure it doesn’t come back a reesh!!

Helpless hopelessness

What a horrid notion to contemplate; Helpless hopelessness or even hopeless helplessness.  It sounds like one should just lie down and die, like that life’s a bitch and then you …….

I know what it’s like to feel helpless but when in that state I never add a double trouble to it and say that I’m also hopelessly helpless.  And if I’m feeling hopelessly lost or hopelessly at the end of my tether I don’t imagine for one minute that there isn’t help along the way.  Nothing is ever as bad as it seems at that moment.  So instead of helpless hopelessess it would be better to think of it as a helpful hopelessness, helpful in that whenever we feel down it serves to help us change our situation and make the hopeless helplessness hopeful again   (if you get my drift)  END OF RANT

words words words

What the blazes does it all mean or is it just utter scutter from the gutter or is it all a mumble jumble of words , words, words.  Don’t you just love them though?   Raucous, boisterous banter and babbling in a bubble of ubiquitous, baffling beauty.

It’s all a load of boloney, these words, I mean.  Crispy crunchy cracked peppery parcels of mulled millet and minced meat, mouth watering and wilting around the fragile fringes of wafer thin tinsel and tongue tied, titilating, tantatlising toffee,  waiting wantonly wondering where and why and when and how in heaven’s name, at the closed gate of  our good and great God, wondering and marvelling at the madness of it all.

Would someone tie her up  and shut her up?  What is she on about?  What the blazes is she babbling on about?  What a load of codology.  Useless, meaningless and pointless words, words, words.

A shadow of himself

Well this photo gives new meaning to the term ” He’s only a shadow of himself” which means that he’s not the same person he used to be due to illness or something like that.  In this case, it doesn’t mean that at all, rather, this is literally a shadow of Mauricio, who I call “himself” from time to time.  It must have been taken by “himself” during that nice sunny frosty weather we had before christmas when he was winding down after the mad frenzy that happens around that time of the year and he had time on his hands to forage around the house , not for food at all but for photo opportunities.

a shadow of himself