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Warning - Some posts may cause choking, spitting of beverage and /or a severe giggle fit. This advice brought to you by regular reader Louisa.

Monday, 30 November 2009

*is drooling over Dean Winchester*


It's the last day of November, hence the last of my asterisked blog titles. It seems only fitting that I should blog about one of my mojos, because asteriskisms tend to come out in full force when we talk about our man/woman candy. There are a multitude of words that we can asterisk when we come across pictures of our mojos. *nods firmly*


For example, for the picture on the right, you could have:

*drools*

*melts*

*mind wanders*


But there are different levels of asteriskisms when you are dealing with mojos. The above is pretty standard stuff, but aside from the general hotness that is Jensen Ackles, the picture is nothing out of the ordinary. For the next level of asteriskisms, you need something a little more inspiring.


Now, it doesn't have to be anything crude, or even naked (although that idea does rather appeal), it just has to have that little something extra that inspires just a wee bit more drooling. The picture on the left may seem like another fairly ordinary picture, but don't be fooled. Our boy has that twinkle in his eyes that tells you right away that he is a Bad Boy, and you know how most ladies love a bad boy. On the asteriskism front, we are now:

*fans self*

*drools excessively*

*is thinking about taming strategies*




Level Three obviously needs the picture to be taken up a notch or two on the hotness front, so a little nudity is a must. Nothing over the top, just a little tease, of course. Sometimes leaving things covered is far more sexy than out and out nakedness. Here we have the traditional Chest Shot, guaranteed to invoke slightly more naughty asteriskisms. Now we have:





*licks lips*

*swoons*

*is thinking about full body massages*










Level five (no, I'm not deluded, I can count) is the Level of Smut, which I won't get in to here, but before Smutty Level Five, we get lovely Level Four. *winks* Level Four is, by the laws of inevitability, sexier than Level Three, so we need a little bit more than a Chest Shot. The example I'm using is the Butt Cleavage. *grins innocently* Gone are the playful *drools* and *licks lips*, we are now reduced to:

*pulls out whip*

*drags to dungeon*

*has multiple asteriskisms*

So yes, mojos definitely bring out a good variety of asteriskisms, wouldn't you say? And these aren't strictly limited to the ladies either. You men can whip out your asteriskisms as and when the fancy takes you. *coughs*  Make sure you insert a little innuendo too, and you'll be laughing all the way to the imaginary dungeon....

Sunday, 29 November 2009

*is a NaNo winner*



So I guess you probably noticed that I didn't blog yesterday. Well. I had a BRILLIANT excuse! *nods* Friday morning I still had ten thousand words to write if I wanted to complete this year's NaNoWriMo. I was doomed - well, I thought I was doomed at any rate. I'm pretty much all written out for the weekend, but rather than miss two days of blogging, I figured I post all of my status messages from the last two days or so. This covers two really good angles - one, I get to fill a blog, therefore only having my Missed Blog total stay a magnificant '1'. Two, posting my status updates from the last two days will probably explain what happened far better than any amount of rambling that I could possibly come up with. So, without further ado, I present...

Life Through A Facebook Lense (aka posting drivel to fill my blog).

Tara Smith  would
Fri at 07:43

Tara Smith  would like to write 5,000 words today. About as likely as winning the Euromillions tonight (seeing as I haven't entered it), but still, would LIKE to....
Fri at 07:44

Tara Smith  needs to give her daughter breakfast now....
Fri at 08:03

Tara Smith  *is Taffing again*
Fri at 19:43  (accompanied by blog link)

Tara Smith Latest NaNo excerpt (as in wrote in the last half an hour).
Yesterday at 00:30  (accompanied by Facebook Note)

Tara Smith  Hahaha, Ellie was cacking herself here.... it was hilarious! *is evil*
Yesterday at 01:13  (accompanied by photo of daughter trampoline-bungee-ing)


Tara Smith  Yay Tami!!!
Yesterday at 01:27 (accompanied by picture of high-fiving chickens)



Tara Smith  Lordy, I just found a half-decent piccy of myself in my friend's hubby's album! Crikey!
Yesterday at 02:36  (accompanied by link to said piccy)
 

Tara Smith  has checked her emails, done her NaNo sneak-peak duty as promised, cobbled together a drabble for The Burrow's advent calender, and gave the kids their breakfast. On to NaNo writing now, 9,097 words to go!
Yesterday at 10:15

Tara Smith  10 questions about your children....
Yesterday at 10:40  (obligatory procrastinating)

Tara Smith  7,896 words to go....
Yesterday at 11:47

Tara Smith  I LOVE themed parties! *steals pic*

Yesterday at 14:14  (more procrastinating, and accompanied by link to said piccy)

Tara Smith  Thanks hun!
Yesterday at 17:47   (accepting of Christmas card animation)


Tara Smith 6,876 words to go....
Yesterday at 18:20

Tara Smith  pussycat, pussycat, where have you been? I've been to Gretna to thwart a wicked queen (step-mother)......
Yesterday at 20:48

Tara Smith  Wicked step-mother thwarted, father saved, heroine on her way back to Cardiff, and 4,866 words to go!! *dances*
Yesterday at 22:02

Tara Smith  "Tara has written 47104 words so far for NaNo
WriMo 2009 ·" - And that's it for tonight, I'm all wrote
out. Only the grande finale to write now, which shall be done tomorrow, oh yes it shall.*nods* Only 2,896 words to go!! Woot!
15 hours ago

Tara Smith  is off to bed. Should have gone up an hour ago, but there we are....
14 hours ago


Tara Smith  1,088 words to go....
3 hours ago

Tara Smith Finished!!!! I wrote a freaking novel!! *faints*
2 hours ago

Tara Smith  Various positions open for readthroughs. The pay is crap (nil), you'll need to be able to decipher Tara-Typos (bad for the eyes), but on the good side, there are only 8 chapters*. (Admittedly, chapter 8 is sort of looong *coughsover30kcoughs*) Job open for selected time only, with priority for Burrowing buddies ;)
27 minutes ago

Tara Smith  For all my NaNo buddies and supporters - we kicked butt!! *glomps all*
22 minutes ago via iHeart  (Tara gave a Boom-Boom-Pow Heart to 29 friends.)

And that's the story of the last 48 hours..... see you tomorrow!!

Friday, 27 November 2009

*is teaching Taffisms*





Oi oi butts! Taffy Tara yer again, like, innit? I've tried to put it off, like, but iznogood. Evah since I blogged about Taffs the ovver week like, I've bin wanting to do anovver one. It's a bluddy nightmare, like, remembering to type Taffish, but itz well funny, so its worf the effort, like, innit?


I fort I'd try and teach me readers a little birrabou Taffisms, coz I only covvahed a tiny bit last time. Fer instance, like, I bluddy forgot allabou 'anallat'. A new reader pointed tha one out fer me, and she was well right, like, innit? I mean, I says it all the time I do. That's anovver one right there - I do.
We says 'I do' at the end of sentences like, don't we? I loves pizza I do. I likes choclut I do. Altogevver like. And we adds the eses at the ends of words like, too, innit.


And I forgot the sheep. That's a ducking crime and 'alf that is, coz even though we don't really like it, we Taffies are usually associated wif sheep. 'Sheep-shaggers', the rest of Britain calls us. Bluddy sheep-shaggers! It's sorta insultin like, to be honest, but we is stuck wif it now.

Anovver fing we always says like is 'then'. But we don't say it like you do, like, we says it at the end of sentences like, innit? Like, if we is phoning our clarts like, we don't say 'where are you?', we says 'where you to then?"  Izallgood.

Now, anovver fing I forgot the last time, was to explain abou clits, like. The fing is, we Kairdiff slags needed a word for each ovver. The boys were good, like, coz they called each ovver 'butt' or 'clart', but we girls were like, 'ang on, butt, we only got 'slags'! We wants anovver name, like, innit? So we fort, worrabou 'clit'? I mean, it's just as good as any ovver name like, innit? So all couples 'ave a clart and a clit. Youknowzitmakezsense (that's anovver word wif like lots of words togevver, like, an its one ov our faves too. Bangin', ain-it?).


Before I forgets again, like, there's one more Taffism I needs to tork to you abou. Now innaminute. That's righ, thats wot we says like. If me doorter says 'Mum, can I 'ave a packet of crips?' (cos we don't say 'crisps', we says 'crips'). I'll say 'You can 'ave some now innaminute'. Or if the clart asks me 'when is fooood gunna be ready?',  I'll say 'It'llbeready now innaminute'.  It's bluddy strange, I know, but that's just wot we does like, innit?


So that's a bit more abou Taffisms, but theres's like lots of ovver stuff to tork abou. The biggest fing I wanted to tell you was that you gorra wotch Taff Wars. Taff Wars is bangin, ducking awesome, like. They has a propa website like, too, but if you is lazy, like, you can search for them on Yootoob. They got lotsov epasodes on there, like, and they're like fullov swearin and rood words like, innit? Bluddy funny, they are, well wicked like, innit.

Lastly, I fort I'd share a few jokes, like. Just to give you an idea of what we Taffies are like, coz I'm tellin you now, butt, they is spot on, like, innit.


Wot do you call a Taff slag who wearz a white tracksuit?
A bride.

Wots the first question ov Quiz Night in yer local vallee pub?
Wot you looking at, butt?

Wot do you call a 30 yer old vallee girl?
Nan.

Wot's the most confoosing day ov the yer for Taffies?
Favver's Day.



And on that note, like, I fink itz best to leave it, like innit. Youknozitmakezsense, anallat.

Later clarts and clits!

Thursday, 26 November 2009

*is listing*



Another day, another scramble for a subject to blog about, consequently another new label. This one comes under the heading of '10 Things....'

Now, this will possibly join the other intended 'serial' labels such as 'Quick Thought' and 'Mojo Moments' (those labels that I had the vague plan of utilizing at least once a month, for occasions such as today when I can't think of a blog subject), but being a procrastinator also qualifies you for forgotten ideas and neglected projects, so I'm not overly worried.

So.....

10 Things.... Not To Say To A Woman.


1 - Are you pregnant?
Who says it: Normally innocent childlings, though sometimes the hubby is the culprit.
When is it said: Usually just after the person notices just how large your belly has become.
Usual reply:  (Spoken) No. (Thought) Do I ask you if you're pregnanat when your belly extends more than it should? (Note, this response is obviously not meant for the children).



2 - Well, now that you mention it, your bum does look rather big in that....
Who says it: Normally the hubby.
When it is said: After the (stupid) question 'Does my bum look big in this?'
Usual response: (Spoken) Oh, thanks for being so honest. (Thought) You asshole! You're supposed to lie!

3 - I forgot your birthday. sorry!
Who says it: The hubby. (Are you sensing a pattern here?)
When it is said: On your birthday. Obviously.
Usual response:  Stoic silence accompanied by a glacial smile (Thought) Unprintable.


4 - I thought you'd prefer something useful.
Who says it: Take a wild guess.
When it is said: Birthdays and Christmas, usually after you have opened a present that you were hoping to be something nice, but turns out to be a blender or some such thing.
Usual response: (Spoken) Er, thanks. (Thought) Next year I'm buying you a spanner, see how you like it.

5 -  Martha! (Or Jane, or Heather, or indeed any female name at all, except for yours).
Who says it: Hubby/boyfriend/partner.
When it is said: In the throes of passion.
Usual reply: Hitting the person over the head with the nearest blunt instrument. If nothing is to hand, pummeling with fists and persistent screeching will suffice.

6 - Hi love, what's for tea?
Who says it: Do I really need to type this bit anymore?
When it is said: To be honest, every day, but I particularly mean those days when you have had a radical haircut, or something similarly appearance-altering.
Usual response: (Spoken, in moment of pique) Fresh air sandwiches without the bread! (Thought) Are you blind?? I mean, SERIOUSLY??

7 - You missed a bit.
Who says it: Really....I think we're past this now.
When it is said: Usually just as you've finished cleaning the oven, or mopping the floors.
Usual response: (Spoken through gritted teeth) Thanks. (Thought) I don't bloody care if I've missed a bit! No more scrubbing for me, unless it includes wiping that smirk off your face!

8 - I didn't realise the time.
Who says it: Umm, let me think...
When is it said: Usually in the small hours of the morning.
Usual response: A grunt, accompanied by a glare and two raised eyebrows. (Thought) Inner grunt and raising of the eyebrows.


9 - I'm not drunk!
Who says it: Blah blah blah.
When it is said: When they are obviously drunk.
Usual response: Pointed glare, then rolling of the eyes.

10 - I'll phone you.
Who says it: Every single man on the planet (ha! got you there!)
When it is said: Every day, for the most part.
Usual response: Hysterical laughter.


And so endeth the list.

Note: I should tell you that not all of these have happened to me. Most of them, but not all. Just saying, like. In case I needed lawyers or something.

Wednesday, 25 November 2009

*is being typically British and talking about the weather*


It's freezing here in Cardiff. We had a so-so summer, with only a few really nice days dotted here and there, and a fairly mild winter so far. Technically speaking, winter generally runs from mid-November until early March, but in this part of the country we have one week of autumn sandwiched between summer and winter, so winter starts earlier.

So far we've had enough rain to replenish the Atlantic ocean. Or so it seems. I can usually forget all about the length of the grass in my front garden between October and April, because it never rises above four inches or so. Not so, this year.  I actually have real green grass in my front garden at the moment (though the back garden still looks like a dying Sherwood Forest). It looks like it will have to be cut again, which is unheard of this side of Christmas,


Still, as I say, it has been exceptionally mild this winter so far. Right up until last weekend. Since Sunday, we have had nothing but rain, wind, and more rain. Of course, it always rains on a Tuesday, because that is the day when I do my weekly grocery shop and have to take a trip into Canton (the nearest shopping area to me). Said trip involves a bus journey, and a fair bit of walking around between the shops that I frequent in my weekly search for a bargain. So of course, it has to rain on a Tuesday, because that is when I am out and about. I call it Tara-Karma (which means nothing works in my favour). Other days of the week are obviously perfectly suited to shopping expeditions (unless I do my shopping on a Wednesday, which of course means that Tuesday is dry, and Wednesday is wet. Very wet).

Anywho, as I was saying, nothing but rain and wind since the weekend. And it's suddenly turned colder than that forgotten bottle of beer at the bottom of the freezer (you know the one, the bottle that you stash when you get home from work in readiness for drinking an hour or so later, only an hour or so later you are eating a meal and have forgotten all about that bottle of beer you stashed so diligently).


And when I say cold, I really mean freezing. Or, as we Taffies like to say, freeeez -en (with emphasis on the 'r', almost a purr, you understand). I have the central heating turned on full, the gas fire burning merrily, and am wearing a cardigan that is possible older than God, but still I am not properly warm. Brrr.

But I actually don't mind the cold. It's much easier to get warm than it is to cool down. I'm one of those miserable people who hates the summer. And I do mean hate. If the sun is shining, you can guarantee that I will be cranky. Everything is just so much more of an effort when it is warm. The walk back from the school every day exhausts me. And I drink so much water that I spend half of the summer having a wee (sorry if that's too much information *snorts*). And if that's not enough reason to dislike summer, then there's also the fact that no matter how many windows you have open, how little you wear to bed, and how high the setting on the fan is, you're still going to feel like you are being cooked when you are trying to get to sleep.


This is why I don't mind the cold. It could be colder than a deep-freeze outside, with the wind blowing a gale, and the rain coming at you from all directions (including upwards, if you live around here), but when you get home you can forget about it. You can make a hot drink, pull the sofa up to the fire, and warm your frozen toes. And if your ancient cardi and heating sources aren't enough, you can grab your duvet and huddle into its coziness.

As an added bonus, if, like me, you are one of those people who puts their Christmas tree up a little on the early side *shifty*, you can also enjoy the wonderful glow that the tree lights bestow on your room of an evening. All year round, the room is just a room, plainly decorated with the obligatory pieces of furniture in their allotted spaces. Now that I've put my tree up, the room is transformed. In the daytime, it's still just a room, but as soon as its dark (around about 4pm now), we have lovely sparkly reflections on our otherwise drab walls, making the room look a little bit like a festive disco.  Although there is no heat coming from the tree, the room feels infinitely warmer.

So yes, I guess you could say that I love winter. I'd happily agree to eleven months of winter every single year, with one month of summer-ness for the kids to enjoy. Although, when I think about it, we get that already....

Tuesday, 24 November 2009

*is confuzzlegasted*


Less than 24 hours ago, I blogged about not being able to blog for the next week, yet here I am. *shifty* The thing is, once you start, it's kind of hard to stop. I feel like I can't leave it in case I disturb my writing mojo, which so far has been pretty accommodating. Don't want to tempt fate (anallat).

Also, the very first comment after my blog about not blogging was *DIES*. That was it. One word. In caps lock. *faints* Not only was it from one of my favorite people in the whole world, it was from my (unpaid) illustrator. Seriously, I can't have her dying on me.


Then I had a message in my Facebook inbox. Another good friend (we have bonded permanently over our love of Remus Lupin, and our shared disgust at the way he was so brutally killed - off page too! - in the final Harry Potter book) informed me that I couldn't possibly NOT blog this week as apparently it was all she had to keep her going through the crappiest week of her life.

What's a girl to do? I simply cannot handle that much guilt, not all at the same time.

All this is very confuzzlegasting (confusing/puzzling/flabbergasting).*nods* Yes, I make up words, but honestly, sometimes you just have to make up words because one word alone doesn't convey what you want to say.

Confused.

Confused. (More so than usual because I can't get rid of that big red strip above. Hm).

I'm confused mainly because that's the way I am naturally. I'm always confused, it's just my way. I'm a natural Scratches Head On An Hourly Basis kind of girl.

Puzzled.


I'm puzzled because it just adds to the whole confused thing. Confusion is a natural state, but the puzzlement is the elevated version of mere confusion. *nods* (I hope I'm not confusing you).

Flabbergasted.

This is the biggie. You see, I'm really bemused (ohh, I could add that to my word, couldn't I - confuzzlegastemused - too much?) at the way my blog has apparently managed to get a few fans. I'm not new to fans as such. Without trying to sound big-headed, I have a steady fanbase for my fanfics, and at my writing peak two years ago I had hundreds (or maybe tens) of people pestering me for updates on a daily basis. Fans are lovely. Lovely, lovely, lovely. But I never dreamed I would have people reading AND enjoying my blog. I mean, honestly, mostly it is just ramble, with plenty of insanity added to the mix. I knew I'd have a few friends read it, but that would be that. Or so I thought.

Taffing is Good.

Yes, Taffing is very good indeed, like, innit? It seems I have attracted a few more readers since I spouted rood words and Taffed about Kairdiff. I have no idea why this particular ramble interested so many people, but I've definitely noticed my view counter moving a lot faster since I Taffed. Now, to be fair, I'd hazard a guess that almost half of these views are from me. *shifty* I check in every time I'm at the PC. Mostly it's to edit, because every single post has about a gazillion typos, and each edit ups the view count. Then there's the times that I am doing anything at all rather than write *shifty once more*. I pop in, read a few of my older blogs (just to make sure that I am indeed as insane as I thought I was), and check out other blogs from my buddy list.

What was I saying before I digressed? Ah, yes. I'm bemused. I can't get my head around the fact that my blog is attracting readers. It's insane. All the blogs that I read (well, almost all) are informative and intelligent pieces of work, usually passing knowledge on to the reader. Quite obviously, mine is not at all like that. *snorts* Which is why I'm bemused.

And guilty. Yes, guilty. I mean, if people want to read my ramblings, who am I to say 'no'?  I can't let them down, it would go against the grain. As per normal, today's blog doesn't really have anything interesting to say, and most of it probably doesn't make sense, but hey, who cares? Hopefully it will have stopped Ana from DYING (note the use of caps lock), and will have helped LauLau (my fellow Lupin lover) forget about her nightmare week for a few minutes.

And now I don't have to feel guity for missing a day of blogging. That'll do for me.

Monday, 23 November 2009

*is mostly NaNo-ing*



I'm feeling torn at the moment. When I started this blog, I was determined that I would do it properly. That is, I was determined to blog every single day. The content didn't matter too much, as long as it was something. Some days I've blogged twice because I knew I was going to miss the following day (or some such thing), but number-wise, there has been a blog for every single day since I first started.

Currently I'm at the start of the final week of NaNoWriMo, and, as I suspected, I am behind. Not terribly behind, as in Oh My God I'll Never Make The 50,000 Words Goal, but behind all the same. Especially seeing as I really wanted to make 65,000 words. I need 65,000 if I want to attempt to publish it. Okay, at the moment it's far too pants to even consider publishing, but that's the ultimate goal here, and 65,000 words would have been awesome, and given me wiggle room when I went through the editing stage. Cutting sections of text is far easier than adding, and at the rate I'm going I'll definitely need to add a good 10k to my word count.

But never mind. 65,000 words was a personal goal, the official goal is 50,000, and I should - by the skin of my teeth - just about make it. I'm definitely nearing the end of the story, and am currently sitting at 38k. There's enough plot left to fill the last 12k or so, rounding off to a neat 52k if I'm diligent. Word counters are a nightmare, and several times I've thought I had a certain amount of words, only to have the NaNo website tell me it's a few hundred less than I thought. I've been Taffing about that I don't know how many times in the last three weeks.

Anyway, to get back to what I was trying to say earlier on, I am torn. Ideally I'd like to keep blogging every day, but I have a feeling that this week will be swallowed. There may be an odd blog in the middle, but I think it's unlikely. So I shall ramble no more until next Monday (well, my NaNo will be filled with ramble probably, but nobody will get to read that *snort*), and will wave bye-bye for a little while.

Catch you soon!