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He Said... She Said...
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Posted:Aug 9, 2006 2:40 pm
Last Updated:Aug 13, 2006 8:43 am
13319 Views
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TO MY DEAR WIFE,
During the past year I have tried to make love to you 365 times. I have succeeded 36 times,which is an average of once every ten days. The following is a list of why I did not succeed more often:
54 times the sheets were clean
17 times it was too late
49 times you were too tired
20 times it was too hot
15 times you pretended to be asleep
22 times you had a headache
17 times you were afraid of waking the baby
16 times you said you were too sore
12 times it was the wrong time of the month
19 times you had to get up early
9 times you said weren't in the mood
7 times you were sunburned
6 times you were watching the late show
5 times you didn't want to muss your new hair-do
3 times you said the neighbors would hear us
9 times you said your mother would hear us
Of the 36 times I did succeed, the activity was not satisfactory because 6 times you just layed there, 8 times you reminded me there's a crack in the ceiling, 4 times you told me to hurry up and get it over with, 7 times I had to wake you and tell you I finished, and one time I was afraid I had hurt you because I felt you move.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
TO MY DEAR HUSBAND:
I think you have things a little confused. Here are the reasons you didn't get more than you did:
5 times you came home drunk and tried to fuck the cat
36 times you did not come home at all
21 times you didn't cum
33 times you came too soon
19 times you went soft before you got in
38 times you worked too late
10 times you got cramps in your toes
29 times you had to get up early to play golf
2 times you were in a fight and someone kicked you in the balls
4 times you got it stuck in your zipper
3 times you had a cold and your nose was running
2 times you had a splinter in your finger
20 times you lost the notion after thinking about it all day
6 times you came in your pyjamas while reading a dirty book
98 times you were too busy watching football, baseball, etc. on TV
Of the times we did get together the reason I laid still was because you missed and were fucking the sheets. I wasn't talking about the crack in the ceiling, what I said was ,"Would you prefer me on my back or kneeling?" The time you felt me move was because you farted and I was trying to breathe!!
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Oh Deer...
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Posted:Aug 8, 2006 1:09 pm
Last Updated:Aug 9, 2006 1:32 pm
13151 Views
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One day the teacher decides to play an animal game. She holds up a picture of a giraffe and asks if anyone knows what it is. No one raises his/her hand. The teacher says "See it's long neck? What animal has a long neck?"
Sally holds up her hand and asks if it is a giraffe. "Very good Sally," the teacher replies.
Next she holds up a picture of a zebra. None of the students holds up his/her hands. "See the stripes on this animal? What animal has stripes?"
Billy holds up his hand and says it is a zebra. "Very good Billy," the teacher replies.
Next she holds up a picture of a deer. None of the students recognized the animal. "See the big antlers on this animal. What animal has horns like this?"
Still no one guesses. "Let me give you another hint, it's something your mother calls your father."
Johnny shouts out "I know what it is, it's a horny bastard."
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Lamb Chops...
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Posted:Aug 8, 2006 1:04 pm
Last Updated:May 30, 2011 1:25 pm
13153 Views
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Mary had a little lamb,
Its fleece was scarlet red.
The reason for this colour scheme
Was the pick-axe in its head.
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Fancy a little B&E?
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Posted:Aug 7, 2006 2:23 pm
Last Updated:Aug 16, 2006 10:57 am
13855 Views
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Tomorrow morning, probably while I munch on my bowl of breakfast cereal (complete with banana), some policemen (and women) will be making an arrest. I know this, as I was told today, after giving my statement.
You may recall, from reading a couple of blogs back, that I was recently the victim of a minor asset relocation. My assets were removed (without my consent) from my home in the early hours of Sunday, 23rd July. Not a lot was taken, but just enough to cause me stress and aggravation. In the two weeks since the incident, I've spent countless hours replacing credit cards, mobile phone, personal documentation, making an insurance claim, taking time off from work to have a little (but rather long) chat with the loss adjustor.
Last Friday, while waiting for the very late loss adjustor (how comes I managed to be home in time, waiting patiently, but his previous case just couldn't be bothered??), I had a phone call from the investigating officer on the case. Rather a nice bloke, very chatty and funny.
Anyway, I digress...
He has been keeping me up to speed on the progress of the investigation into the burglary, and this call was to tell me that they had managed to identify the fingerprints the CSI officer had lifted from the window frame, which my uninvited visitor(s) had left behind. They apparently belonged to a WOMAN!!! 
I was completely taken aback when he told me that! I know some men will find this offensive, but in my mind (and in others, I've discovered), Breaking & Entering is something that is usually done by men. He gave me the name of the woman, asking me if I knew her. I didn't. Was I sure, he asked again. Not a relative, or a cleaner or someone like that. Er... no. I checked with Mr and Master Hansen, and her name rang no bells with them.
The mind just boggles. How do you get into B&E? Are you out on a date one night, when your fella suggests you just swing by a few homes on your way home, and you just help yourself?
What was even more annoying was when the WPC who was taking my statement today said that the woman probably wouldn't even realise the value of the stuff she had helped nick. Tell me what woman wouldn't know the value of Louis Vuitton???  One handbag and two purses later (I keep my credit cards separate from my cash, not that it did me any good this time around!), and I'll be very surprised if she hasn't disposed of my gear for a nice tidy little sum.
Still, I'm not going to hold my breath, while I eat my breakfast... but it would be nice to get a call to say they've found my stuff, wouldn't it?
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4
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With This Ring...
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Posted:Aug 4, 2006 1:08 pm
Last Updated:Aug 7, 2006 11:50 am
13161 Views
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On Saturday, 3rd June 2006, a traumatic event took place in my life. I don't wish to elaborate on the event itself, but something happened that day, which came back to haunt me today.
Sometime during the course of that fateful day, one of the bands on my wedding ring snapped. My wedding ring is a Russian Wedding Band, also known as a Trinity Ring, or a Rolling Ring, and it consists of three tri-coloured gold bands.
I remember being shocked that the band had just snapped - I had not done anything that morning that could have damaged the ring in any way.
I showed Mr Hansen the ring later that same evening, as I took it off and placed it on the table. It has remained there since that day.
Today, after a visit from the loss adjustor from the insurance company (more news on the burglary to follow!!), we set about clearing some papers from the table. I went off to watch something on the the TV, and moments later, Master Hansen came into the lounge, asking me when we had fixed my ring.
I stared at him blankly. As far as I knew, the ring had been there since 3rd June, and I had not touched it. I had seen it lying there, in the days and weeks that have passed, but I had never picked it up and placed it somewhere else.
I had not taken it to the jewellers to have it repaired, and Mr Hansen assures me that he hadn't touched it either.
Master Hansen handed me the ring, and sure enough - the break in the band has vanished...
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The Beauty of Birdsong...
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Posted:Aug 3, 2006 2:06 pm
Last Updated:Aug 4, 2006 12:08 am
13174 Views
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I woke early one morning,
The earth lay cool and still.
When suddenly a tiny bird,
Perch on my window sill.
He sang a song so lovely,
So carefree and so gay.
That slowly all my troubles,
Began to slip away.
He sang of far off places,
Of laughter and of fun.
It seemed his very trilling,
Brought up the morning sun.
I stirred beneath the covers,
Crept slowly out of bed.
And gently lowered the window,
And crushed his fucking head.
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How to ruin a weekend...
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Posted:Jul 25, 2006 2:11 pm
Last Updated:Aug 3, 2006 12:12 am
13689 Views
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The weekend started off well. I'd splashed out on some more wool for my scarf-making business, and was coping with the heat (boy, it's scorching out there and has been for days!).
Saturday night I watched Memoirs of a Geisha on DVD (excellent movie and I would recommend it to everyone!!), and must have fallen into bed at about 1.30am. It was another hot, hot night, so we had the windows open.
7.15am the phone rang. In a dazed state I went to answer it, muttering about the insensitivity of calling at that hour on a Sunday morning.
The conversation that ensued is not worth repeating... it was horrible, to be frank. My caller informed me that he was my worst nightmare, and spoke to me as if he knew me. Told me he had seen pics of me naked, and called me a slag. I started panicking, wondering how someone from VisionPersonals.com had gotten my unlisted home phone number. (I experienced some Internet blackmail by an VisionPersonals.com member back in January, and I wondered whether this was him, back for more sick fun).
I told my caller that if he didn't leave me alone, I would call the police. I hung up, and then decided to dial 1471. This is a facility in the UK that tells you the number of the last person who called (if they haven't witheld the number).
Pen poised over paper, I listened to the automated voice repeating the number, and a wave of confusion hit me. I hung up and dialled 1471 again. The same number was repeated.
IT WAS MY OWN MOBILE NUMBER!!!!!
I looked over to where I had last seen my mobile, and was shocked to discover that my handbag was GONE!
Then Mr Hansen's mobile started ringing. The bastard was calling Mr Hansen's mobile FROM MY MOBILE!! Mr Hansen had woken up while I had been speaking on the phone the first time, and so wasn't really up to speed with my horrifying discovery.
Anyway, long story short... during the wee hours of Sunday morning, an intruder managed to squeeze himself through a very small window and remove a key which was in the lock of the door next to the window. He unlocked the door from the outside and let himself in.
Our uninvited guest helped himself to two of my handbags (I have one for during the week, with EVERYTHING bar the kitchen sink in it, and another little bag I use on weekends; a backpack (complete with some knitting I had in there), and my beloved laptop, as well as my mobile. Also in there were a set of house keys AND work keys. I work in finance, and part of my job involves safes, etc. Need I say more???
We called 999 straight away, and the rest of the day passed by in a blur. The police were brilliant, although what he must have thought when I had to tell him about the call, and what was said... I was blushing when I told him about the "intimate" pics that were on my laptop  , but he never batted an eyelid! CSI came around later in the day, and got some decent finger prints. All I can hope is that they nick the bastard who has turned my life upside down!
I am NOT a happy Helga just right now. This incident has just added to a load that was already wearing me down.  I now have to deal with an insurance claim and the hassle of getting most things replaced. There are some things, though, that can never be replaced, and it is those things that I am truly sore about...
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4
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Do You Remember...
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Posted:Jul 19, 2006 1:35 pm
Last Updated:Jul 21, 2006 2:42 pm
13419 Views
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I've been introducing Master Hansen to one of the few delights I can remember from my childhood. 
When I was a , I can remember my dad listening to Victor Borge, a Danish pianist who moved to the United States. He combined stand-up (or should that be "sit-down" )  comedy with classical music.
If you've never heard of him, and you enjoy a mix of comedy and classical music... I can thoroughly recommend him! 
Master Hansen has been enjoying it immensely, and we've only listened to the first CD so far!
As I type this, I'm listening to Inflationary Language...
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3
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12 Husbands - Still A Virgin...
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Posted:Jul 19, 2006 12:20 pm
Last Updated:Jul 26, 2006 12:47 am
13381 Views
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A lawyer married a woman who had previously divorced twelve husbands.
On their wedding night, she told her new husband, "Please be gentle, I'm still a virgin."
"What?" said the puzzled groom.
"How can that be if you've been married twelve times?"
"Well, Husband #1 was a sales representative: he kept telling me how great it was going to be.
Husband #2 was in software services: he was never really sure how it was supposed to function, but he said he'd look into it and get back to me.
Husband #3 was from field services: he said everything checked out diagnostically but he just couldn't get the system up.
Husband #4 was in telemarketing: even though he knew he had the order, he didn't know when he would be able to deliver.
Husband #5 was an engineer: he understood the basic process but wanted three years to research, implement, and design a new state-of-the-art method.
Husband #6 was from finance and administration: he thought he knew how, but he wasn't sure whether it was his job or not.
Husband #7 was in marketing: although he had a nice product, he was never sure how to position it.
Husband #8 was a psychologist: all he ever did was talk about it.
Husband #9 was a gynaecologist: all he did was look at it.
Husband #10 was a musician: he never had an upright organ.
Husband #11 was a bank teller: he only ever knew how to make withdrawals.
Husband #12 was a stamp collector: all he ever did was... God! I miss him! But now that I've married you, I'm really excited!"
"Good," said the new husband, "but, why?"
"You're a lawyer. This time I know I'm gonna get screwed!"
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Helga & The Woolly Mammoth..
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Posted:Jul 9, 2006 11:17 am
Last Updated:Jul 19, 2006 11:17 am
13823 Views
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I've been busy. Really busy. 
Some of you may recall that back in Autumn 2005 I started a little cottage industry, while trying to deal with the back ache from hell. To alleviate my boredom while stuck in bed for the best part of three weeks, I was knitting scarves. Knitting them as if my life depended on it. Well, it did, in a way. My sanity was hanging by a woolly thread, and the knitting stopped me from going clinically insane. 
Anyway, there was I, knitting, when [blog TheQuietGuy2005] casually suggested I sell the scarves I was knitting. The rest, as they say, was history. The little light bulb in my head wouldn't stop flashing (or was that me, standing in front of the fridge?), and I decided "why the hell not!", and Helga Hansen Originals was born.
Soon I was roping in the help of another member, who was a printer by trade, and I even ventured into web page design, designing a web site to sell my wares. I'm awaiting a more professional web site, being designed by a lazy Hobbit from the Other Side Of The World. Seems said Hobbit is currently making goo-goo eyes at some [blog LilBlondeNZ] who has flown from the Big Apple to spend the rest of her days in Antipodean bliss.
Anyway... why have I been busy? A few weeks ago I was introduced to a brand new way of turning wool into fashionable items that ladies would wear (hey, I'm not being sexist here, but I don't think the fellas are going to want to wear these little bundles of fur, not unless they're desperate to get in touch with their feminine side!).
Since that rather interesting demonstration (TQG was there with me at the time, and I distinctly remember his eyes glazing over!!)  , I've been toying with the idea, and this weekend I was able to bring my ideas to fruition. In two days I've created 5 new scarves, and at this rate, I'll have a whole warehouse before Winter 2006 hits us! I have had loads of fun experimenting, and I don't think I'm done yet.
And J... London Fashion Week still beckons! 
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7
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Seven-Seven
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Posted:Jul 6, 2006 11:14 pm
Last Updated:Jul 9, 2006 11:34 pm
12801 Views
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07 July 2005
Today a nation remembers.
We honour those who died with a two minute silence, and we honour those who survived by never forgetting.
♥♥HH♥♥
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Teardrop Explodes...
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Posted:Jul 5, 2006 2:29 pm
Last Updated:Aug 8, 2007 11:29 am
13629 Views
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The rain trickles down the window pane, as do the teardrops on her cheeks.
She does her crying in the rain... no one knows, and of this she never speaks.
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To link to this blog (helga_hansen) use [blog helga_hansen] in your messages.
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