Thoughtful.......

Flowerpot has graciously bestowed this award on me. I'm busy moving all the other awards along the mantleshelf to make room! (you know this is tongue in cheek don't you?)


In truth I can't believe that me/my blog is that popular! Anyway I'm honoured that anyone would think I'm worthy of an award of any kind so I say thank you Flowerpot and I accept the honour with open arms.


I have to nominate five other people who are:-

Bella (the mad) Household of La Bellina Mammina who always has a kind word.

Dave who's words of wisdom make you think about life instead of just living it.

Talj (Talj's Balcony Paradise) such a thoughtful person who is raising money for charity.

Ron (Foot Notes) gives so much thoughtful and useful information on Reflexology and Aromatherapy.

MissUnderstood (A Sideways Look At Womanhood) who recently had to write and deliver a Eulogy for a friend. Go read it but have a box of tissues ready.

I hope you will all acccept the award in the spirit it is given and pay it forward to some other Thoughtful Bloggers.

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And just to make you groan smile.........

Count Dracula is on the pull in Glasgow. He spends the night drinking Bloody Mary's in various clubs and biting on unsuspecting women's necks.

He's heading for home, along Argyle Street sometime before dawn.

Suddenly he's hit on the back of the head. He looks round and sees nothing. He looks down and sees a small sausage roll. Mmmm, he thinks.
What's going on here?

A few yards further on and........BANG. Smacked on the back of the head again! He whirls round as quick as he can - nothing. Again he looks down and there's a small triangular sandwich lying on the ground. How odd!

A few more yards further along the street and........crash. Smacked on the back of the head yet again! He whirls round as quick as he can - nothing. He's getting really angry now. Again he looks down and there's a cocktail sausage lying on the ground. He stands and peers into the darkness of the night. Nothing.

He walks a few yards further along again when he gets a tap on the shoulder. With a swirl of his cape and a cloud of mist he turns as fast as he can. He feels a sharp pain in his heart. He falls to the ground clutching his chest, which is punctured by a small cocktail stick laden with a chunk of cheese and a pickled onion.

On the ground dying, he looks up and sees a young female. With his dying breath he gasps, "Who the hell are you?"

Wait for it...

Are you ready?...

Brace yourself...

This'll make your day...

... "BUFFET, the vampire slayer."