Who doesn’t love a bloody good list? I couldn’t get through a normal week without writing at least twelve pointless, almost never to be actioned but at least it’s out of my head lists just to run my day to day life.
Here is, in a weird metaphysical way, a list of my favourite recent lists
1. The following is a real live list I’ve just found in the Notes app on my phone, to illustrate the grand inner workings of my tortured mind:
That’s right. Eggs. Shite. Milk. Wine. I probably went to Lidl and bought a few gingerbread houses and a petrol strimmer but no eggs, milk or wine.
2. Once I used to have a proper job, with colleagues, pay and everything that reasonable humans demand as their rights. One of those colleagues was running a promotion, which required purchasers of our (delicious, fruit based, family friendly) products to enter a randomly generated code which featured on the pack.
It was only AFTER generating all these codes that we realised it would not really be on brand if any of those random codes randomly spelled out cockwomble or similar, so we had to ask everyone in the office to add EVERY SINGLE SWEARWORD they could conceive of to a great big list to filter them against. I loved that day.
3. In fact, it was much like the list you can find at this link here:
I learned a few new ones from this very list earlier today. Who knew you could make yourself laugh out loud simply by calling someone a fuckmented shitjizzle?! What a time to be alive!
4. Not technically a list, but by far and away some of the funniest things I have ever read in my tiny little life are over on the Sleep Talkin Man blog, where a lady called Karen records and transcribes the frankly amazing things her husband says in his sleep. It is utter brilliance, and made me cry with laughter. “Pith helmet, check. Baby wipes, check. Small box, check. Let’s go midget smuggling! YAY!”. Whilst ASLEEP. Amazing.
I have endless lists in my phone. Losing it would be like losing a piece of my brain, although given that my ‘brain’ is evidently full to the brim with reminders like ‘train tickets, bin, trunking, baby machine’ it probably wouldn’t be the great blow to mankind I imagine.
I write things in the notes that I find funny, like new amusing typos I have made of my own name, Lindsay Butcher (‘Linsday Bitcher’ – like, Monday Tuesday Wednesday Lindsday, Bitcher!), sweet things my children have said to me about my singing (‘Your songs are hurting my brain, Mummy), how to dismantle a jigsaw (‘Let’s RUIN IT UP Mummy!’) and assorted tasks needed to finish our half built house. The number of lists which begin 1. Enslave husband, 2. Force into eternal servitude until plasterboarding completed (most of which are in my mind, but the urgency of the sentiment remains the same) is outweighed only by the number of times I have come home to find a large pile of rubble where a wall used to be.
I know regular readers of this blog love a good list or two, so please consider the comments section open for suggestions. Youngest child is currently ill on the sofa, so I have time on my hands for reading – either that or writing myself another list…
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Dicking about on Twitter here
Pictures of my breakfast on Instagram here.