Jim Tagged Me

I was tagged

by Jim

Thanks Jim I'll remember this. Next time I'm
in Yankee land I'm coming to git ya.

I'm thinking about:

What I could be doing instead of this...oh
something simple like parachute jumping (without a parachute)...
watching the test pattern on TV, or even watching the
grass grow (now that takes alot of time and patience).

I said:

I've done something like this before, but it was more like a
questionaire whereas you told everybody about yourself.
Gee that was fun too......

I want to:

Run outside naked (now that would be a scary sight.... there'd
be a lot of people in therapy for a long time) and shout
"WHY ME JIM....what did I do to you?????

I wish:

I had this finished as I find this sort of thing a pain in the ass
to do!!!

I hear:

I actually read (not hear) thoughts of those who may be
wondering if they are gonna be tagged by me ("no, no, Warren
don't pick me")...hee hee...who will it be >will it be you??

I wonder:

What I could be doing if I wasn't sitting here wondering what
next to say...hum I know I could be doing the two weeks of piled
up ironing, 'cos that would be just as interesting.

I regret:

I had started blogging (nah not really as then Jim wouldn't of
been able to tag me) so I guess I'm stuck with having to finish
this wonderful piece of !!!!!!!!

I am:

Looking at a episode of "Scrubs" quite a funny and even at times
weird TV show set in a hospital. Fortunately I have this on DVD
so I can re-run it and watch what I've missed while doing this.

I dance:

When listening to good Big Band music. Do you remember Tom
Cruise in "Risky Business" then that's me. I also tap dance.

I sing:

Quite often, altho' I'm told I don't have a good voice (but hey
what do others know). I was actually singing at work today and
the boss said that he told me before and before not to do that as
it gives him a headache, so naturally I have to give him a second
verse, then make a lunge to the door before he gets up to
"beat me." Much laughter as I disappear down the corridor.

I cry:

When I hear sad songs, see sad movies or hear uplifting stories
(I'm a real softy) and find as I've gotten older things "move me"
more than what they did when I was much younger. Hey
everybody knows real blokes (Aussie for men) don't show their
feelings or even ....gasp....cry.

I'm not always:

Loud (as shown at the top of my blog). Peter from Holtieshouse
wrote this. I'm really quiet and shy until I get to know you then
WATCH OUT.

I make with my hands:

Not a lot. Nothing that would change the world, altho' I can
make my bed (sometimes), make my lunch for work, make a nice
hot roast dinner and sew (is that like make) a button on a shirt
(that's with my hands).

I write:

A fairly "mean" (nice but sometimes very long) letter to friends
and family. I once started writting a book (a western) but never
completed it.

I confuse:

Words like attitude and altitude e.g. "why don't you go and jump
in the lake." I sometimes reply "That's not a very nice altitude"
or wait a minute should that be attitude.

I need:

A Song and Dance Man (sounds like a vaudeville act) to Help Me
Through The Night.

I am thankful for:

Jim who tagged me (not) but at least I gave it a go.

That reminds me of a old joke:

A man died and caught the elevator up to heaven. St. Peter
asked his name and when he looked the name up in the good
book he said "My you have been a bad one haven't you, sorry
you can't come in here, you'll have to take the lift downstairs."
Now in front of St. Nick the man is asked his name and upon
looking up the bad book St Nick exclaims, "My you've been a bad
one haven't you....before you can come in here you have some
punishment to do..."
He points to three doors and says "whatever punishment is
going on in there you can have, or go onto the next door, but you
can't go back to the door you've already come out of."
Entering the 1st door he sees hundreds of people standing on
their heads on cut glass. He goes onto the 2nd door and sees
thousands of people standing on their heads on hot coals.
The 3rd and last door and he can't go back to the other two
doors. Inside are millions of people standing in sh*t up to their
waist with a glass of champagne and a cigar in each hand.
He thinks this isn't too bad and gets in. He has just been given
the cigar and champagne when St. Nick walks in and says
"alright smokos over, back on your heads".

That really wasn't the one it reminded me of, it was this one:

A woman goes to the doctors and says "the passion has gone
out of my husbands love making, we just watch some TV, then
go to bed and he turns over and goes to sleep." "Ah, said the
doctor I've just come back from a medical conference in India.
I've got just the thing for you."
With this he takes a flute out of his bag and gives it to the woman.
He tells her that when they go to bed to take out the flute and play
Hava Nagela. That evening they go to bed and the husband turns
over and goes to sleep. She reaches under the pillow and
commences to play Hava Nagela. There is a stirring under the
covers. She plays the tune faster. The covers start to rise. Playing
the tune even faster the covers rise higher and higher. Flinging
the flute aside the woman rips back the covers and there she sees
the husbands pyjama cord rising into the air.

And finally:

I'm almost finished. It's taken me nearly a week to do this, altho'
mind you I haven't spent a lot of time on this, but some of my
answers have taken longer than I thought it would.




I'm not gonna tag anybody as I don't want to
put any body else under the same "pressure"
I was to do this. Nobody did "pressure" me but
I felt I should attempt to do this tag that Jim
so kindly sent to me.