If You Can't Say Anything Nice....

If you speak to me and think I sound like a girly version of Jamie Oliver, that'll be because of my fat tongue, which is engorged due to severe biting of said tongue.

The last few weeks I seem to be permanently in a state of biting my tongue as opposed to letting leash with my opinions as (a) they haven't been asked for and (b) they may result in me being struck off Christmas card lists right, left and centre.

I am in no position to tell others what to do, in fact the idea of me giving career/relationship/life advice is laughable. I am a master of the muddle through. However, in recent weeks I've developed a nervous twitch as I've wanted to start so many sentences with "What you should do..." or "What's wrong with that is..." and the old classic "Your a f*cking idiot, now listen to me..."

I don't think it is any coincidence that this sudden burst of interfering comes with the discovery of, *gasp* a hag hair on my chin. I think I may be going through one of those rites of passage.

Comments

[Kate]

Welcome to my world, help yourself to tea and biscuits:-)

[St Jude]

Biting your tongue seems awfully painful to me. So I just go right on in and say it anyway.

By the way Kate, lovely cuppa and did you bake those bickies yourself?

[La Chat Noir]

Tehee! Love it. As for hag hair, it happens to us all my dear *sigh* x