Tag Archives: Aunty Jane

Gay and riding cowgirl


Well, here I am in Christchurch. We have been here a few days already and I am beginning to enjoy myself. But I was feeling pretty down in the mouth, when we first  got here, I can tell you.

But I’ll get to that in the next post.

After arriving in New Zealand we drove straight from the airport to a beautiful suburb on the outskirts of town. And I was in for another surprise. Saul’s sister lives here!

Isn’t that marvellous, girls? And the naughty man never mentioned he had a sibling.

He explained during the drive that for years, the family never mentioned Elizabeth, who picked up the unfortunate nickname of Lizard Breath, which sounds as if as it came from the mouth of some snotty kid with their braces on skew. Apparently it is partly because of her tongue, but mostly because of her being gay.

Well! Really! I thought this was more than a little mean.  I mean, I have always felt I was a gay person; I try to maintain a sunny disposition at all times. But I too can have a bit of a tongue on me on occasion; especially if Saul is spoiling for an argument; he’ll get a swift tongue lashing from me, that’s for sure.

Men must know when they’ve had a sound licking, right girls? Too true!

It turns out however, that Elizabeth is gay, not gay. If you catch my drift, ladies?

I am pleased to report, however that despite initially being ostracized by family and a few, stuffy, conservative friends, and Elizabeth telling  everyone they could go and *Frak themselves,  they had a bit of a rethink and  mended fences. And early next year she and her partner, Bobbi, a 6’ 8” sheep rancher, who could probably kick start a Boeing 747, if she was asked, are getting married!

Anyway, I need to sign off for a while and pop off for forty winks.  We are going to a Country and Western bar later tonight with Elizabeth and Bobbi where they have one of those mechanical bulls.

And we are all going to ride it!

It sounds very exciting, I must say, and Saul suggested I can practice riding Cowgirl on him before we go out. Isn’t that sweet of him?

Bye For Now.

Love, Aunty Jane.

*Frak. Jeremy emailed me and explained that this little word is from a science fiction program called Battlestar Gallactica and all the girls say it. I quite like it! Has a certain ‘chutzpah’, don’t you agree, girls?

When I get home I must ask Jeremy what the word means.  I do know that after all this flying I am pooped, or as Jeremy suggested “totally frakked”.



Men,their balls & proper hygiene.

Hello Peeps! You’ll never guess what I’ve been up to?

I’ve been ‘doing’ Sydney, as the locals say. No, you silly things, I am not doing Saul’s friend, Sydney. Sydney, the city. In Australia. That’s right! And we are soon to board a plane for New Zealand.

We are going to watch some rugby. Saul is so excited. Strange how they get worked up watching other grown men play with their funny shaped balls, hey girls?

First, though, I must apologize for not writing sooner. But Saul, my boyfriend, and I are having such an adventure that truth be told the last thing on my mind was blogging.

Seems odd for a woman of my age to say boyfriend, but he makes me feel like a young girl once more so who cares! You are only as old as you feel. And thank goodness I don’t have to worry about feeling myself much these days. Nothing like a change of oil to encourage a girl to learn how to use a new dipstick am I right?  😉

Anyway, as we have an hour before our flight, and I am the proud owner of a new laptop that Saul bought me in Singapore, I thought I would write a few words just to let you all know I am alive and well.

So, what happened, you are wondering? Well, there I was, sitting at home with my grandson, Jeremy when Saul telephones to say we are going on holiday. He wouldn’t say where, at first, but I managed to wheedle it out of him because I needed to know what to pack. And men are so silly about these things aren’t they girls?

What’s more, Saul has sold his dental practice to his cousin Hymie and decided to retire.

So I get to have him all to myself!

So, our holiday destination?  London!

When we arrived we drove straight to Claridges, Saul’s regular hotel when he’s in town.

That first night we had dinner with that Arab chappy who owns Harrods. He’s a personal friend of Saul’s. I never realised how many famous people Saul knows!

He says he used to be the Queen’s personal dentist although between us I found this a little hard to believe as I have it on good authority from my neighbour, Madge, that the Queen sends her teeth away to be treated, but Saul showed me a mug with the queen’s face on and it turns out that the queen is, in fact, the late Freddy Mercury. Shame, that poor boy!

Well, anyway, before I knew what was happening we were flying to Paris and after one night, we were whisked away to Cairo!

I have never seen so much sand in one place before. And I have been finding sand in my drawers ever since. It is amazing how the stuff just won’t come out, even after several turns in the washing machine.

Which brings me nicely to the topic of hygiene.

Before we left for the airport this morning I had rather a strange call at our hotel.

The lady caller, who had obviously got the wrong number, announced herself by saying “Hi, Jean, this is Ros.”

When I said she must have the wrong number she enquired if this was not the local fanny.

Somewhat taken aback, thinking this was a crank call, I put the phone down at once.

Only later, did I find out that the woman was calling from FANI, which stands for Feminists Are Not Imbeciles; a lesbian activist organisation.

Apparently there are FANI’s in quite a few countries; which is a good thing.

So, girls, remember, if you get the call, please support your FANI.

Oh, there’s the last call for boarding. I must dash. Saul says he hopes to meet a New Zealand hooker after the match. It’s bad enough that Marge’s husband ran off with one. The man is insatiable!

Bye for now.

Love Aunty Jane xx

“Where are my glasses?”

….or coping with memory loss.

My grandson, Jeremy, has a joke he likes to tell. It goes something like this.

Long John Silver stands on the empty deck of his ship and yells,

“Where’s me Buccaneers?”

To which his Parrot replies,

“On the side of y’buccan head y’fool.”

Which lends a bit of credence to that old saying , ”I’d lose my head if it wasn’t screwed on.”

I know it’s certainly true of myself. I couldn’t begin to guess how many times have I have lost something, only for it to turn up in the most unusual place.

Now in the case of my poor neighbour , Marge, she lost something but never got it back. It was her husband, Rodney. She lost him in Sainsbury’s.

It was too terrible and took her ages to get over the shock.

There they were doing the ‘weekly shop’, you how it is, ladies , yes, and had just walked by the hardware section. Marge knows her Rodney has a thing for nuts and bolts and especially assorted screws so she told him to , ”Wait here, okay?” while she went off to check out the pickled fish. After popping some herring into her trolley she went back to the hardware section and Rodney had disappeared. Now she was sure she had left him in this isle as she usually did every week and Rodney would happily while away the time waiting for Marge’s return by fiddling with all the nuts and bolts and other things men love to play with. But as she turned into the isle pushing her trolley -no Rodney. She was distraught and even after an exhaustive search he didn’t turn up.

Yet , after nearly six months she received a postcard from an anonymous person who claimed they had seen Rodney in Sydney with an Australian hooker.  Marge was as distraught as she was baffled as she knew Rodney hated rugby.

Well, my dears, the point of this post is to make sure you keep your mind and your eyes sharp. And it could do no harm if we all learned  a bit about rugby too I suppose. Men and their balls eh?

BFN. All the best. Love Aunty Jane x