Beach Bummers

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Bitchin' about the beach.

While relaxing on the beach during your vacation, do you notice:

– The people with the highest fat density wear the least amount of clothes?

– Hot-looking beach babes always sit next to you when you have water retention?

– Pasty redheads on sun loungers seem to think they can outsmart solar rays?

– The person who used the beach washroom before you didn’t flush?

– Savage hungry seagulls can hear an ice cream being unwrapped from five miles away?

– All children under seven appear to be on speed?

– No matter where you lay your beach towel, you always end up next to a giant ant colony?

Go away! Go away!– Beach babes always sit next to you when you have bikini-line shaving rash?

– You find sand up your bum even if you’re sitting on a shingle beach?

– The person who used the beach washroom before you had some really bad oysters the night before?

– Fat old women with enormous flabby thighs just can’t stop bending down and picking up shells in front of you?

– Metal detector operators combing the shoreline always look poor?

– Beach babes always sit next to you when you have a hangover that would break Keith Richard?

– When you kick a kid’s sandcastle, their father is always 200lbs larger than you?

– The more wrinkly the man, the tighter the Speedos?

– No matter where you lay your beach towel, you always end up next to an overfriendly drunk hobo called Captain Billy?

– Redhead sunbathers seem to think the best cure for agonizing sunburn is more sunbathing?

– Despite storing them in an airtight box, the main ingredient of your sandwiches is sand? Or ants?

– Women who sunbathe with their legs wide open are usually over 70?

– The person who used the beach washroom before you was Captain Billy?

Beaches are hell. Stay home!


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Rainbow Princess - Glittery!

Make your heart smile with Rainbow Princess’s inspiring viral e-mails!

RP1 - True Friend

What is a true friend?
A friend knows your hopes and dreams
But a true friend knows you inside out!
Your friend isn’t always by your side,
But a true friend will always be behind!

A true friend will always be behind!

A true friend will give as much as they receive
And will always lend an ear, a hand or a tongue!
If you’re grumpy, sad or blue
A true friend will always come for you!

How many friends do YOU have?

Kitty BFF!
Are they special?

Or are they disposable?

Something AMAZING will happen to you and your TRUE FRIEND

TOMORROW! AT 1pm!

Eastern Time, that is.

**It REALLY WILL!**

A good friend will bail you out of jail….
A true friend will be with you in your cell!
And will love to share their bunk with you!

Jail is fun with your best freind!

A true friend is a gift from God!
If you don’t send this message to 5 friends
You will make God ANGRY.

Kitty prays for mercy. Bad kitty.
If you don’t have 5 friends, God is already ANGRY with you.

Send your TRUE FRIEND this message!!!
If they don’t return it, they are NOT your friend.

They are mean and spread LIES. And STDs.
You know that itch you’ve had for a while?

I feel sick.
Send THIS MESSAGE to your NEW true friend instead!

NOW! Otherwise that thing I mentioned that is happening tomorrow at 1pm (Eastern time) won’t happen. I mean it.

Beautiful wishes,
Rainbow Princess


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Stage fright? Me?

When I was five years old I became convinced my best friend’s dad was Frank Zappa. I’m not sure how I came to that conclusion. Their surname wasn’t Zappa, there were no guitars or gold records on the walls of their modest townhouse, and Captain Beefheart never joined us for milk and cookies. But my friend’s dad had a big moustache and long hair just like Frank Zappa, so that was good enough for me.

I made another showbiz pal that summer, when my parents took me camping in Scotland. Leaving aside ethical debates about child neglect and whether Social Services should have been informed, I actually enjoyed spending a week camping in a cold, muddy field. And the reason? Billy Connolly was there!

Every evening, soggy campers would gather in the campsite’s musty clubhouse, order pints of Guinness and settle down for a night of music and comedy. And who was providing the entertainment? Why, a tall Scot in a kilt, with long wild hair and a bushy beard! It must be The Big Yin himself! This was better than playing in Frank Zappa’s back yard.

That was him! I think.One night, Billy announced he was to perform a magic trick and needed an assistant. I must have looked like a ginger midget on speed as I pushed my way to the front screaming “Me! Me! Pick me!” He didn’t really have a choice.

“Helloooo! What’s yur name, lassie?”

I was star struck.

“Erm… I… I can’t remember…”

“Hello, I Can’t Remember! That’s a lovely name!”

Billy winked at the giggling audience. My parents looked worried.

“Would ye like to help me perform a wee trick?”

“I don’t know. Is it with fire? I don’t like fire.”

“Well, yees, it does involve me burning a magic pound note… tell ye what, how’s aboot singing a funny song insteed?”

By this point, stage fright had kicked in.

“I don’t know any funny songs…”

Billy was beginning to panic. His assistant was letting him down.

“I know, I’ll sing a song and you can dance! Can ye do that for me, lassie?”

“I… want… Mummy!”

I ran off the stage in tears. I just couldn’t match Billy Connolly’s wit and charm. I’d ruined his show!

Once I stopped sobbing and calmed down, I begged my parents to take a photo of me and Billy, so I could at least brag to the kids at school. They didn’t need to know about my lackluster stage performance. This would leave little Robbie Jones’ photo of him with Cliff Richard in the dust.

My dad couldn’t understand why I was so obsessed with this campsite entertainer.

“He’s Billy Connolly, Daddy! He’s the funny man!”

My dad smiled, grabbed his camera and wisely kept his mouth shut. I’d find out one day.

Just one thought. How did I, at five years old, know so much about foul-mouthed comedian Billy Connolly? It’s a good thing Social Services never found out.

Jobbies.


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eddie mcjpgThe Lunenburg County Bugler’s top columnist Eddie McMayonnaise shakes his fist and rants about all the things that would get him fired if he wrote about it in the Lunenburg County Bugler.

.As top columnist for the Lunenburg County Bugler I’m not usually one to snark about my fellow journalists. But on the other hand, it’s very easy and there is payment involved.

Have you noticed when the TV or newspaper reports the death of someone, it always says “He passed away at 7:00 am this morning, with his family and friends around his bedside.” Every time! What I’d like to know is:

I'm dead angry!– How come his family knew what time he was going to die, so they could all gather around his bedside?

– Or, had they been standing there for days, impatiently waiting for the old bugger to pop his clogs so they could read the will?

– Or, was there some kind of machine unplugging ceremony involved?
“Are we all here? Right, who wants to flip the switch?”

– Or, do newspapers… lie?
“He passed away at 7:00 am this morning, alone in the washroom with his head jammed down a urinal…” It just doesn’t have the same brevity, does it?

And how come when someone famous dies, we all have to pretend we liked them? “Oooh, I was such a big Michael Jackson fan!” cried my colleague the other day, as she wiped away a tear. “I loved that song he did with Paul McCartney, you know, Ebony and Ivory?

For the record, I only listen to dead musicians. That way I won’t be disappointed when they don’t go on tour.

Oooh, it makes me angry! I’m off to HMV to lick all the Thriller CDs. Toodel-oo!


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