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NiftyFiftyShades

~ Failed Domestic Goddess

NiftyFiftyShades

Category Archives: Humour

You know you’re an adult when…

03 Wednesday Aug 2016

Posted by niftyfiftyshades in Etiquette, Humour, lifestyle, Midlife, Uncategorized

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

funny, Grown up, midlife, women

napkinfolding

1. You close your online gaming account and join a bee keeping forum. Bee keeping and napkin folding are your new passions.

 

 

 

 

plumber2. Workmen who come to your house to fix your boiler call you Mrs. “That’ll be an extra 50 euros for the new washer Mrs Ryan”.  None of the familiar terms of endearment, ‘love’ or ‘sunshine’ will be uttered.  It’s the least they could do to address you formally and with respect while fleecing you for every last penny.  “Standards must be maintained” will be your new mantra.

brigjones-icecream3. You could eat a whole tub of Haagen Dazs if you wanted to but choose not to. The only person wagging a finger at you as you reach for the fridge is yourself. You can stuff your face with sweets with carefree youthful abandon but you wont.  The bathroom scales will be ever present in your thoughts. It’s not as much fun anyway when there’s no one to scold you.

4. You say more appropriate things than inappropriate things. This anomaly may reverse in time.  When you’re past middle age you revert to saying more inappropriate things than appropriate, or what I like to call – radical honesty.

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5. You develop an awareness of hygiene that was never present in your teenage years.   You become acquainted with the vacuum cleaner.   It never troubled you before but suddenly the collection of socks under the bed makes you queasy.

sitdown6. You’re fond of a old ‘sit down’.

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7. You develop a cushion fixation. Your shopping habits change.  You still like the odd impulse buy but you’re more likely to find yourself in the haberdashery department of Brown Thomas than looking at Gucci handbags.  Who doesn’t love new cushions?

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8. Buying a new appliance makes you more giddy than a thirteen year old at a Justin Bieber concert. You actually read the instructions on how to care for your new stand mixer.

9. Beer will no longer cut the mustard. You discover the joys of a glass of wine.

 

Wine-instead-os-milk

 

What Your Water Says About You

14 Thursday Jul 2016

Posted by niftyfiftyshades in Drink, food, Health, Humour, lifestyle, Uncategorized

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

Drink, funny, helath, water

imageIf only I lived as a North Korean peasant in the presence of Kim Jung Un. The special one has discovered a new treatment to prevent aging and cancer – water. Water from the sacred Mt Koryong. And the benevolent leader has bottled it for his 27 million subjects to buy.

If like me, you like your water infused with rose petals and oxygen, collected from the tears of water nymphs, regurgitated by the Dalai Lama himself and spit into a bottle, then the following might interest you.

imageAccording to Nth Korean scientists “There are nano-tracks in human’s cell membrane and only smaller molecule water can pass it. Such water is absorbed rapidly into human body to promote metabolism of cells and works as antioxidant to prevent the accumulation of peroxides, retard aging and prevent cancer.”

And the water is indeed sacred, there is a never ending supply. According to reports “Geologists and management officials of the spring water factory have not yet measured the exact volume of water. However, much they pump the water, it never diminishes.”

Its claimed that is has mysterious energies, and cleverly nicknamed ‘clear water’. I suppose ‘murky water’ wouldn’t do.

I suspect Kim himself told his scientists to find the cure for cancer or else face a cruel tortuous death. Low and behold, there it was starting them in the face.. water..

What your choice of water says about you.

imageCoconut Water :– You are a hypochondriac totally taken in by the hype. You’re never more than 5 ft. from a yoga mat and you firmly believe that drinking coconut water will allow you to remain in a Downward Dog position when you’ve passed the 100 year mark. You don’t really like the taste, but that’s the price of being a smug health freak.

Fiji Water :- You like taking selfies of your gym body, you never pass a glass without checking your reflection to confirm that you still have it.

Tap water :- Tap water ceased to be acceptable in 1989. You are obviously very very old….

imageSmart Water:- You’re not that smart but you like to show everyone that you’re tech savvy. You believe the junk science behind electrolytes that replenish lost energy. You want to know what the Ph balance is but don’t understand what it means.

 

Evian :- An acceptable choice for a domestic Goddess. It has the ‘Je ne sais quoi’ factor. Would do if San Pellegrino not available.

imageSan Pellegrino:- Sweet nectar of the Gods.  Lets be clear, this is not merely a bottle of water but an accessory, and we all live by the old adage “Accessories doth mak’eth the woman”. Your Chloe handbag is just the right size for carrying it but you’d rather keep it in your hand.

 

 

imageLidlAldi own brand:- You are the intellectual superior to everyone. You know it makes sense, it’s functional, cheaper and of equal quality to Evian and you can bulk buy when doing your grocery shop. You actually understand the junk science about electrolytes in water. You think Louis Vouton plays for Arsenal and your idea of a perfect holiday is a potholing expedition in Donegal.

Tipperary Spring :- You are a country bumpkin. You prefer a night by the fire knitting Aran jumpers to a night on the tiles.

Water Fountain: – Your homeless, but hey, you have the edge on everyone else, you’re drinking free clean water…

Tap Dancing School - 'We only use tap water.'

Tap Dancing School – ‘We only use tap water.’

Old Bag To Let

12 Tuesday Jul 2016

Posted by niftyfiftyshades in Fashion, Humour, lifestyle, Shopping, Travel, Uncategorized

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

cruise, funny, Handbag, women

 

 

image  My dream of a luxury Caribbean cruise will remain just that, a dream, unless I come up with a cunning plan. Staring out of my rain soaked office window, my mind is elsewhere.  I’m lounging on deck, a Pimms in one hand and my Jamaican Patois  phrase book in the other.  A gentle breeze caresses my bikini body (in my dreams I have a bikini body).  A hot sailor arrives with a cold towel to gently dab away a bead of sweat from my sunkissed forehead…..

img_1770I trawl the internet looking for ways and means of earning a few shillings and turn my fantasy into reality. The internet offers a plethora of suggestions, but one catches my eye.

Handbag Rental:- Yes, there are crazy people out there willing to part with cash for a loan of your handbag.  Initially I find this an amusing idea.  Reminiscing about days of old when I lived at home with my five sisters.  Handbags were exchanged without permission or knowledge.  You could arrive home to find your polo mints and lip gloss strewn across the bed, handbag nowhere to be seen.  Many an argument started with ‘Where the f**k is my bag”.  Ahh! Happy days.  If I had a penny for every time my handbag was commandeered….

image.jpegBut this idea or renting out your handbag intrigues me. A Burberry clutch will get you 35 euros per week.   A Longchamp tote maybe even more. My plan may indeed be cunning. The only drawback is a lack of designer bags in my wardrobe. I might get 50 cent for my old satchel, but that wouldn’t cover the postage.

 

 

 

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAAnd there is that fact that my handbag is a health hazard.

 

img_1769However, it’s a universal truth that any domestic Goddess worth her salt must own at least one decent bag. How else can she be differentiated from the peasants. I do have a lovely Orla Kiely shopper that I’m quite attached to.  I’m not about to let any old tosser (too miserable to buy their own bag) use and abuse it.  I’ll rent out my Primark crossover bag for starters and see how I get on.  There can’t be that much competition, I can’t imagine anyone who owns an Alexander McQueen skull box clutch would be that hard pressed that they’d have to rent it out.

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If the handbag rental goes well, I could rent out all sorts of things. Shoes..I have a pair of runners that need breaking in. I wouldn’t even charge extra for the muck.  Maybe not my good shoes, don’t relish the thought of some slimey old pervert sniffing around my stilettos… Scarves, sunglasses, jewellery, husband. The sky’s the limit.

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I consider other ideas..

Personal Assistant to Millionaire:- Dashing about, organising appointments, booking flights.   Maybe I could be a kind of skivvy to the stars.  I have visions of me collecting George Clooney’s dry cleaning.  I’ll make myself indispensable to him.  George will be incapable of sneezing without my guidance.  In order to get the gig, I’d have to look the part.  Mmm…Maybe I’ll rent a little Gucci clutch bag.

 

 

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Bonkers Food

23 Thursday Jun 2016

Posted by niftyfiftyshades in food, Humour, lifestyle, Uncategorized

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

food, funny

imageIf you’re thinking of moving to LA anytime soon, you need to get with the program. LA based Amanda Chantal Bacon owns Moon Juice, a juice and nut milk shop.  She has a ‘copper cup of silver needle and calendula tea’ every morning.  Last year she wrote a food diary for Elle which went viral.

“At 8am, I had a warm, morning chi drink on my way to school drop off, drink it in the car! It contains more than 25 grams of plant protein, thanks to vanilla mushroom protein and stone ground almond butter and also has the super endocrine, brain, immunity and libido boosting powers of Bran Dust, cordyceps, reishi, maca snd Shilajit resin. I throw in some ho shou wu and pearl as part of my beauty regime.  I chase it with three Quinton shots for mineralization and two lipospheric vitamin B-complex packets for energy”.   Source –Jay Rayner /Twitter

 

If that isn’t enough to put you off your cornflakes…I did some digging of my own and found plenty of similarly ludicrous food fads to make you feel inadequate.

imageAstrologically farmed eggs – That is, eggs that are laid at a certain time to coincide with cycles of the moon. Apparently they are tastier they have ‘bright sunset yellow’ yokes.  This also comes under the heading of Biodynamic Farming, or bonkers farming to you and me, which advocates planting, cultivating and harvesting crops based on moon phases.

image.jpegBog Butter – A farmer in County Cavan has found a large knob of butter. Why has this made global headlines.  Because it’s not just any old butter but 2000 year old bog butter buried by our forefathers and  preserved in a bog.  Now lauded as a wonder food, much sought after due to its rarity.   According to scientists, bog butter provides additional peat infused nutrients. It has a waxy texture and smells of cheese.   Will we read next of Russian oligarchs shelling out millions for it?  One woman’s forward planning I found amusing,  she intends to turn her breast milk into butter and bury it in the Bog of Allen, so that some archaeologist will dig it up and tuck into it in a couple of hundred years time.

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Quinoa – never eat anything you can’t pronounce. Deeply unpleasant glue like grain.  The unpalatable truth is that poor Bolivians can no longer afford it due to soaring western demand.

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imageActivated cashews – if you must have ‘bio-available’ nuts.

From  ‘Nourishing Traditions’ by Sally Fallon

How to activate your nuts…

  1. Dissolve salt in enough water to cover the amount of nuts/seeds you are activating.
  2. In a large bowl place your nut or seed of choice.
  3. Cover with the salt water solution.
  4. Soak for the required number of hours.
  5. Strain and rinse the nuts.
  6. Spread over a dehydrator rack, or baking tray.
  7. Dry in the dehydrator for around 12-24 hours.
  8. If drying in the oven, set the oven at the lowest temperature possible, preferably no more than 65C. Stir or turn them occasionally, for the required drying time.
  9. And the result? A crunchy, delicious, totally bio-available and stress-free, nuts.

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Watermelon spiked with gin – Maybe this one is not so ludicrous.  Cut a hole into the watermelon that is deep enough to pour in a large helping of your favourite tipple. Leave overnight and serve the next day.

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Football Crazy

13 Monday Jun 2016

Posted by niftyfiftyshades in Humour, lifestyle, Sport, Travel, Uncategorized

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

family, Sport, Travel

 

image.jpegGood news – I’m no longer a golf widow. But wait, hold the celebration, golf has only been replaced with football. The nation grinds to a halt as Euro 2016 fever grips the country.   Himself is off to Bordeaux to worship at the altar of football.  In a couple of days he will set off on a ten day solo road trip across France on his beloved Ducati motorbike (I only recently learned what make it was, previously referred to as ‘a red one’ if asked). Lovingly buffed up and ready for the trip.

image.jpegThank God it’s finally arrived. I don’t think I could take much more of this insanity. To say the meticulous planning of this trip was executed with military precision would be an understatement. I sometimes wondered if the house would ever return to normal.  I look forward to the joys of coming down to my kitchen each morning and not have spare motorbike parts strewn across the counter tops, not have maps spread out across the table, yellow stickers on the fridge or messages from Airbnb every time I open my iPad. Finally, normal family life may resume.

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Check lists made, maps drawn up, a new phone purchased to ensure Google maps working, Airbnb booked months in advance and of course the much sought after golden ticket tucked safely away in his wallet (match tickets reportedly changing hands for 10 times their face value). I’d say he’s ready.

imageLast night we had the trial run. The rucksack packed, unpacked, repacked. I tried lifting it, but couldn’t. “What have you got in there – a few gold bars?, a spare engine?”. On inspection, I wasn’t far off. 90% of the bag consisted of tools for the bike, spare parts, bulbs, barely room for a pair of shorts and a couple of green t-shirts. If only I could pack so light. Just as well I’m not tagging along as I’d never manage with less than 15 pairs of shoes.

Ahh, looking at his happy little face as he gets on his beloved Ducati, his anticipation of a momentous journey, a trip of a lifetime, his pride in being able to join the Green Army, ’twud bring a tear to the eye.

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Poolside Etiquette

09 Thursday Jun 2016

Posted by niftyfiftyshades in Etiquette, Humour, Travel, Uncategorized

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

Etiquette, funny, Travel

imageYou finally arrive at your hotel after a long and treacherous journey, travel weary, exhausted. All you want to do is flake out in the sunshine.  You’ve been promised tropical bliss.  You envisage doing nothing more than sipping Pimms, taking selfies of your feet while idly contemplating George Clooney’s choice of footwear.  You gather up your poolside paraphernalia, shades, sun cream, sarong, book and head down to the terrace only to find the sun lounger Gestapo have reserved all the best ones. The only one left is beside a bin and some howling infants.   What to do?

imageI found myself in this very predicament on a recent holiday. I decided that there was nothing for it but to rise to the occasion and beat the Germans at their own game.

Before toddling off to bed that night, I passed the pool area only to see towels set out on four of the best located sun loungers.  Feeling brave (alcohol may have been involved) I took the towels and tossed them on the loungers by the bins.  Is that evil? Not really, I restrained myself from dumping them in the pool.

imageI awoke to glorious sunshine pouring in through the slit in the curtains early the next morning (6.50 am).  I watched with interest from my balcony as a woman arrived with her towels and proceeded to claim five sun loungers. Not content with that, with military precision she managed to drag a heavy parasol (anchored to a cement base) over to her den, along with a selection of small tables and some ashtrays.  Clearly I’d have to up my game to be in contention for a prized sun lounger.

Any challenge that requires this level of cunning and precision planning is right up my street.  I can easily out maneuver this one.

I made my way to the pool, took two more sun loungers and proceeded to squash them in the middle of the five, placed my towel and my lucky flip flops on them and headed off to breakfast.

imageReturning later, I relaxed into my sun lounger between Gunthar and Greta, oblivious to the glowering looks from either side as I flicked through Good Housekeeping.

Unfortunately, what began a tickle in my throat suddenly developed in to a severe fit of coughing. As it reached a loud hacking rasping crescendo I reached for my better half, taking his hand I gasped “I don’t think that I’m completely over that particularly virulent bout of Spanish flu”.  As my coughing persisted and it appeared that I might expire at any moment, I noticed how much space I seemed to have either side of me.  In fact, this was much better.  I had the best spot all to myself.

A Goddess has standard.  Now, where’s that Pimms?

Am I evil?.

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BBQ Heaven or Griller Warfare?

31 Tuesday May 2016

Posted by niftyfiftyshades in food, Humour, lifestyle, Uncategorized

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

Bbq, family, food, funny, women

image.jpegHorray!!  Summer has arrived.  Time to delve into the dark corners of the garage and haul out the bbq, (which gets little use in Ireland I might add).  Time for my man to shine.  I may be capable of turning out the odd gourmet delights in my role as head chef in our household but lets face it, how could I possibly know anything about barbequing, being a mere woman.  No, the barbeque is the mans domain, we all know that BBQ’s are powered not by coal, but testosterone.

imageFirst task, remove cobwebs and lift lid to reveal last years ash and grime. Remove any congealed crumbs or rotten meat the result of having  been stashed away last year in an unclean state. Obviously this is the woman’s responsibility.  Cleaning the BBQ is not manly work. A good half hour vigorous scrub of the grill and we are ready to rock.

image.jpegBuying the food, this is obviously the woman’s job.  Supermarket shopping is not manly work.  The meat may need preparation by the woman  first.  The woman may be assigned other lowly tasks, like tossing the salad, making dips, setting out cutlery, tables, napkins, glasses etc.  The meat should be set out on the tray beside the bbq in preparation for the manly spectacle of placing the meat on the grill.

imageDrinks in the form of beer should be provided to the man.   The woman should ensure that the fridge is stocked with cold beverages as obviously this is thirsty work for the man.

 

 

 

 

 

image.jpegAdmiration for the manly work being done.  While he dons his black apron, brandishing his tongs, pause for a moment to behold this vision of manly lovliness.

imageThe highly technical precision turning of the burgers, the careful examination of the sausage, all essential requirements to ensure even browning.  In the end to ensure no breaches of health and safety, he will make the decision to burn the bejasus out of everything.

 

 

image.jpegFinally, the momentous eating of the by now beyond recognition cremated meat.  Loud noises of approval all round.  The woman may announce loudly to everyone what a treasure her man is, to nods of approval all round.

 

I wonder who gets to clean up afterwards?

 

Signs you’ve given up on life

25 Wednesday May 2016

Posted by niftyfiftyshades in Etiquette, Fashion, Humour, lifestyle, Midlife, Uncategorized

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

midlife, women

imageA picture of a burka clad Anne Robinson in today’s Daily Mail got me thinking.  Some days it’s easier to hide behind baggy clothes.

Maybe you didn’t bother to check in the mirror and failed to notice that you are wearing navy trousers and black shoes but that doesn’t mean that you’ve completely given up on life.  No need to sound the full ‘I’m having a mental breakdown’ klaxon just yet.   A minor blip.  You may allow your crown to slip occasionally, but beware fellow Goddesses, it may be the start of the slide into decrepitude.

If you seek acceptance into polite society you must heed the warning signs.  If you fail more than two of the following tests, you are definitely displaying signs that you’ve given up on life.  You may need therapy to restore order.

imageWearing elasticated trousers.  This shows a complete disregard for society in general.  While ‘Thanksgiving pants’ as worn by Joey in Friends, may be permitted as a vehicle for comedy but in real life are an absolute no no.  Equally, referring to trousers as ‘relaxed fit’ or ‘slacks’, a serious crime against good taste.  If you wear tracksuit bottoms when not exercising, don’t bother with therapy, go straight to the asylum.  Perhaps it might be an idea to keep an outfit on standby, maybe some sort of bee keeping ensemble, it would be preferable to tracksuits.  Anne Robinson’s would do well to heed my advice.

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You bump into someone you haven’t seen for some time and  they proceed to tell you about the fabulous cocktail parties they’ve been and their last holiday in the Cinque Terre.   They ask you ‘What have you been up to’ and you can’t be bothered lying.  You realise that you haven’t been anywhere.  My advice, just say ‘Oh, the usual, extreme ironing, can’t get enough of it’.

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You try to lift your mood with a spot of retail therapy resulting in unwanted purchases.  Dust mop slippers.  I rest my case.

 

 

 

 

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Procrastination.  If this is your mantra “Hard work pays off but procrastination pays off now”.

 

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Brandishing a Primark bag.  By all means shop to your hearts content here but don’t flaunt it.  Standards must be maintained at all times. At least have the good sense to conceal it in a Brown Thomas bag.

 

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You fall asleep anywhere.

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You only apply nail polish to your big toe, the others won’t be seen.

 

 

 

 

 

imageYou haven’t seen your bedroom floor in over 3 months due to an assortment of clothes, mugs, books and magazines strewn around. This far exceeds the normal realms of messy.  Nothing screams ‘Look at me, I’m celebate ’  more than going to sleep under a pile of magazines and a laptop.

 

 

 

 

imageWellies.  Only wear if you are a farmer.  Even posh Hunter wellies ceased to be acceptable in 1981 when Prince Charles was snapped wearing them.

 

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Your handbag is a health hazard.  It’s stuffed with tissues, receipts and chewing gum with bits of grit stuck to it.  Your purse smells of the cheese sandwich which you bought two days ago and forgot about.

 

 

You choose vodka

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If you fail the test, you are not the only one suffering from your descent into the abyss,  the mental scars extend to your pooch.

This is a dog who fully understands and supports your ‘I’ve given up on life’ behaviour.

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The Six Stages of Spanx

04 Wednesday May 2016

Posted by niftyfiftyshades in Beauty, Etiquette, Fashion, Humour, lifestyle, Midlife, Shopping, Uncategorized

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

Fashion, funny, midlife, spanx, women

A friend of mine recently posed the question.  Should women of a certain age ditch the silky smalls  and embrace Spanx on a full time basis?

With a family wedding approaching I must use whatever means of deception available to me to ensure smooth lines.  While I’m a great proponent of the big Bridget Jones knickers (my secrets out) I find I’ve reached the stage where I need to progress to something stronger.  I intend taking myself into Brown Thomas’s to seek out some industrial strength elastic.

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For the uninitiated,  let me guide you through  The Six Stages of Spanx.

  1. image.jpegThe Decision:  Will I won’t I?  Weighing up the pros and cons. If you find that your cellulite is visible through thick skirts, or your posterior resembles a lumpy loot bag, well I guess the answer is yes. But then again, you are quite fond of breathing, and would like to continue to breath in the future. The thing is, although they look awful, the latest hi-tech engineered fabric prevents all lumps and bumps from showing through even the flimsiest of clothing. The resulting svelte outline a joy to behold. They make a Primark dress look like Dior (I may be exaggerating a little). Regardless of whether you are overweight or not, we can all benefit from a smooth sleek silhouette. Never mind what you look like underneath, never mind that you will sweat, blister, feel like a stuffed sausage and cease to breath. Pay no heed to the fact that your organs are being squashed or that your legs are numb. These crucial side effects will be duly ignored in the debate. Should you embrace your inner Bridget Jones? You will decide that the answer is YES. Don’t imagine you’d get a look in with the likes of Mark Darcy with an arse the size of small country.image
  2. Choosing:       Beware of some classic mistakes.       Never wear the long cycling short type under trousers. The legs roll up and look unsightly. Never try to overdo it. If you are size 14 don’t buy size 10 determined to squeeze into them. You might succeed in getting them on, but like a biological game of musical chairs, the unwanted wobbly bits have to go somewhere, usually up.       You could end up with an unsightly double chin, or an extra pair of boobs. Also bear in mind that they have to come off at some point. Remember what happened to the style icon herself, Bridget Jones. She wore a corset that rolled up at the both top and bottom, resulting in a perfect not so little roll around the middle.
  3. imageThe Religious Experience: Spanx are a gift from God. Once a devotee, you may never leave home without them again. Spanx worship is a common phenomena.
  4. The Secret: No bungee jumping, rock climbing, foxtrotting, breathing normally. No one must know you are wearing them.  Life must be put on hold to prevent a glimpse of your hidden elastic. No one must suspect your addiction to it.
  5. Admission:    Eventually the enormity of the secret will cause a meltdown and you will admit to wearing them. A friend will notice you are wearing a lot of tight fitting clothes of late and question where the tents have disappeared to. ‘OK..I’m wearing them’ you will snap.
  6. imageWeaning off Elastic: Wearing Spanx eventually leads to a lifelong addiction to elastic. The day may come when you decide to let it all hang out, and you won’t be prepared. An exit strategy should be considered.    I understand that there are programs where you can be weaned off elastic, but none with any great success that I’m aware of.

 

 

 

“However, chances of reaching crucial moment greatly increased by wearing these scary stomach-holding in pants, loved by grannies all over the world”  ..Helen Feilding.  Bridget Jones Diary

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Finding The One

26 Tuesday Apr 2016

Posted by niftyfiftyshades in Etiquette, Humour, lifestyle, Midlife, Uncategorized

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

family, funny, Love, midlife, women

The institution of marriage is a serious business and should never be enterprised lightly or wantonly according to my good friend Mrs. Mills.

A report in yesterday’s Dail Mail claims that an algorithm has been developed to find Mr. Perfect.  Whisky Tango Foxtrot!!

image.jpegWhat to look for in a man? Brave, intelligent, suave, sophisticated, thoughtful, kind, handsome, funny?  Wrong, solvent, hygenic and not afraid of the odd bit of housework .   Find a man who can keep you in the style you would like to become accustomed to who doesn’t have his own personal odour.  Forget GSOH or SWM, when placing your personal ad in The Farmers Journal include HLOD(has loads of dosh) and DS (doesn’t smell).

As an expert on such matters, I feel it’s my duty to share other qualities often overlooked when it comes to choosing your man.  No need to resort to dodgy matchmaking sites making dubious claims while charging an arm and a leg.  Neither internet or algorithms have a place in cupids plans.  Ignore my counsel at your peril.  My advice has over the years prevented many an unsuitable attachment

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  1. imageYou may need a measuring tape for this one. A man may be judged on the length of his sideburns. Sideburns should never exceed 4 cm in length.    I recommend carrying a small ruler or measuring tape on your person on first dates. Immediately discount any potential suitors overstepping the mark. When it comes to the sideburn rule, all severities in (even Bridget has to ask Mark Darcy to reconsider the length of his sideburns).

 

 

image2. The correct level of forgetfulness. A man should never remember anything you say, but still retain the ability to remember anniversaries and birthdays.

 

3. The perfect man should suffer from body dysmorphia, when it comes to his partner that is. He will always view you as ‘a mere slip of a thing’, regardless of your weight or size. The words ‘fat’, ‘chubby’, ‘stout’, ‘well rounded’, ‘child bearing hips’ will never pass his lips. These words will simply fail to exist in his vocabulary.

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image4. A man should never let the side down on the dance floor. The ability to tango or quick step should be held in the highest esteem. This shows an innate talent to interpret and communicate feelings through the physical form. Word of warning though, draw the line at sparkly unitards if your man is over the age of 24. Mr. Fifty loves nothing more than to start the day with an invigorating foxtrot.

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5. A man should be able to hold his whiskey. This comes in useful if you’ve had more than a few ‘lemonades’ and need a steady hand to guide you home.   If just doesn’t work if both you and your partner are a bit on the wobbly side.

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image6. A man should never indulge in excessive grooming. Anything more than a haircut every 6 weeks is vulgar excess.  Remember, the entire household grooming budget is for you.

 

 

 

 

 

 

image7. Never date a man who wears socks with sandals, a clear sign of a deeply disturbed mind.

 

 

 

 

MCDOCEL EC042

OCEAN’S ELEVEN, George Clooney, 2001, © Warner Brothers

7. If your suitor answers to last name Clooney, first name George, discount numbers 1, 4,2 and 5 above. Also 3 and 6. He’ll do just fine.

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Some ideas for personal ads?

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niftyfiftyshades

niftyfiftyshades
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Nifty

Read about my failings as I muddle through midlife

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