Interesting things found in the Thames today

- A whoopee cushion
- A badminton racquet
- A ping-pong ball with the number 13 on it (kept by me as believed to be lucky)
- A toy car
- A dog's toy
- A sheriff's badge

Camel's Toe volunteered with Thames21, "London's leading waterways charity working with communities to transform neglected and littered rivers".

www.Thames21.org.uk

The Skull

I have a friend called The Skull. All there is of him is a head – in the form of a bare skull, hence the name. Hes white, as skulls tend to be, and he is plastic. He comes from a pound shop in Sydenham. He had a body once but it got lost.  He has a moveable jaw. Another thing about The Skull – he has made me jump a few times in the night because he glows in the dark. I forget he is there. He doesn’t do much day to day. But before I go to sleep I like to scan my room for intruders. Yes, I know this is absurd. But its no more absurd than when you’re watching Jaws and you make sure your foot isn’t hanging off of the sofa in case the shark comes. I just  like to check my room for anything amiss and I feel a pang when I see a little glow in the corner. Ah, its just The Skull.

Anyway, I got a bit irritated with The Skull after a while. As I said, day to day, he does very little so I started to wonder exactly what he was bringing to the table. Lets say we had words about the lack of skeletal contributions to the council tax bill and the tendency of his to eat the last onion (he eats it like an apple) just as I was planning to cook myself a tasty pile of pasta. So I though, sod him, and I threw him away.

I was raged

I threw him down

I put him in the bin

Its time to cull

That sorry skull

That cranium of sin.

So my bony friend took a trip to the town dump. When The Skull found himself sharing a dwelling with 6,000 used sanitary towels and 1,000 copies of undelivered News Shoppers, he cried and cried. He vowed to change his ways; he looked heaven-wards and prayed for redemption. And we must share a connection hitherto unaccounted for, me and The Skull because I quickly came to regret my impulsive actions. I soon came to miss the thrill of his little head, glowing away in an alcove and making me think twice at bedtime.

I took off for the local waste disposal site and set to work. Hours passed and I remained empty-handed. I would not leave as such, I told myself. I would find The Skull.

Night fell and I continued my quest. And, oh, luck was with me for there was The Skull! There he was! On a pile of rubbish, glowing in the dark as he knows how to. And I ran to him. I scooped up that cranium and placed him in my pocket.

I was enraged

I shot you down

I chucked you right away

I dumped you Skull

But life was dull

I’m glad you’re back today

Pub quiz - our team's constantly-evolving name inspired by Joe

1. We have shut down.

2. Joe's bowel should shut down along with the connections round.

3. Joe's bowel is a maniac and should shut down.

4. Joe's boule is a maniac and should be shut down with immediate effect along with the animal round. (Not used yet, to be used next time. Copyrighted, do not steal)

Pussycat Dolls

When I grow up I wanna be famous I wanna be a star I wanna be in movies. When I grow up I wanna see the world drive nice cars I wanna have boobies.

This lyric, misheard maybe, got me thinking about the clothes shop Tammy Girl in Bromley. Tammy Girl was the teenage part of Etam. Etam was a bit like New Look, before that store got ideas above its station. You’d kind of be embarrassed to go in Etam, or its younger sibling for that matter. The name Tammy was unbearably 80s and the time I’m talking about would be 1989 and we were ready to lose the 1980s once and for all.

But there was one draw for me: Tammy Girl sold bras in 28AAA. And practically nowhere else did. So down the narrow staircase I would sneak, grimacing with envy at the white-toothed teenage girls beaming at me from the posters in the stairwell.  Teenage girls who were perfect; unsullied by spots, greasy locks or PMT.  Straight to the back and right there, there was the display of 28AAA bras. One contraption – scandalously- sported pink spots. Oh, how I wanted that one. 13 years old and with about £1 a week pocket money to my name. Not happening.

Now, of course, I ask myself why 28AAA bras weren’t widely available. Actually, I don’t even need to ask why. Its because they are pointless. They are just paying lip-service to a dream. “If I get one, maybe it will encourage growth?” The old joke from teenaged boys - “would you wear a hat if you didn’t have a head? No, then why would you wear a bra?” If my Dad, who always likes to save a few pennies, had known about my plans he would have suggested two plasters. Used probably. Obviously he wouldn’t have been consulted due to this being “women’s stuff”.

But what all this came down to was this: THE SCHOOL SHIRT WAS SEE-THROUGH. And I’m not wearing a VEST like a baby!!! I wanna be a WOMAN. “Be careful what you wish for cos you just might get it” says Pussycat Nicole Scherzinger, later on, in the song quoted above. Everyone gets ‘ it’ eventually. And she didn’t really say “boobies”. Well not out loud. I think she DOES say boobies, really. But only unofficially. Truthfully, she says groupies. But who wants groupies? If you’re a girl band, they’re all gonna be stalkers. But boobies…rewinding to me at 13 and taking a scan of my brain…”hoping I get boobs soon.” ”Has so and so started yet and when am I going to and I hope I’m not the only one who hasn’t.” “Am I interested in boys yet?I should be” “Don’t tell anyone but I was playing with my neighbour’s Sindy dolls the other night” “I think the cat has got worms”.

So, back to the 28AAA bra. I never got it. I would suspect that puberty is such a fast-moving beast that by the time the pennies were saved for that one I would – oh joys- have already been ineligible for that “stupid, small thing”. And probably too busy obsessing over another “stupid, small thing” (my first boyfriend) to care.

Further to our previous letter - deaths abroad

Dear colleague. You have received our memo about dealing with deaths abroad. You would have found attached a standard letter to issue in the case of a death abroad. Regrettably, that letter is to be withdrawn due to it potentially causing offence to the recipient. Please use the link to find the new, approved letter to send if these circumstances arise. Please note the space to include a reference to a romantic partner. It is felt that this will personalise the letter somewhat more than previously.

Dear Mrs ******
It is with trepidation that I pass on the sad news that dear Alexandra expired yesterday. It seems our cherished Alexandra was unfortunate enough to be caught in a volcanic eruption. She was never one for a volcano which makes this all the more tragic. I am pleased to relay that at the time she was partying with Donald Duck; they were very much in love. I hope that alleviates the pain somewhat.
Yours...

Standard letter for a death abroad

Dear colleague. please find this standard letter to issue in the case of a death abroad. Please fill in the blanks with the name of the unfortunate party. Please detach this advice from the body of the letter to avoid causing offence.

Dear Mrs ******
I am terribly afraid to tell you that the great Naomi is no more. We all knew she was never one for speaking much and she was always reluctant to eat more than a morsel. So it seems tragic that that her demise should have happened thus: she was feasting upon a single caper and, rarely for her, voicing an opinion on the price of fish. All of a sudden, a cockerel crowed louder than Vesuvius' eruption. Dear Naomi choked on her caper and was lost from us for good.
Yours..

Unrealistic socks

 I’ve got these socks and its cats with collars on

And these are premium cats

FELINEZ

Its not like I’ve got socks with some demented old mog on

No rabies, tapeworm and no fleas

A sock like that would be shut down straight away

These socks encourage class divide

Its like, woman, girl and lady

People will say “how can you read that into a sock?”

You think too much

But these socks are aspirational

I DON’T FEEL THESE SOCKS REFLECT THE REALITY OF CATS

(And the cats say:

YOU KNOW NOTHING ABOUT US.)