Kimberley Anne Better Better Willis I was born. That went well. Not long after, I was walking and talking and stamping and shouting and making my mark on the world. I discovered Mum's typewriter when I was about eight years old and have been fascinated by words and sentences ever since. I continue to stamp and shout, but now with added 'I might blog about this later' notemaking.
“I had a ploughman’s lunch the other day.
He wasn’t very happy.”
Lucky old me, I know lots of clever writers. Each month, a new Guest Writer will grace us with their wit and warmth. Click here to read their words
Here's a selection of my recently published articles
A blog roll of other sites I know and love and wish I’d thought of.
Stimuli // stimuli plural of stim·u·lus (Noun)
Anna Fisher – in 1984 she became the first mother in space, and is currently one of the oldest active American astronauts. Picture first seen on I love science.
Not So Busy Bees
I bang on about bees a lot. We need to save them. Save the bees! You’ll be hungry if you don’t!
For more information about bees, check this out.
not your average Joe.
Hey fact fans, Mayor Ferguson always wears red trousers. It’s a historically accurate portrayal.
You can see more of Joe’s mastermind here
The Star Nosed Mole.
I borrowed from a friend a Spike Milligan book of kid’s poems in order to entertain my sister during a recent weekend. Turns out I was the most entertained – the man is a genius! This is my favourite poem.
‘Twas midnight in the schoolroom
And every desk was shut
When suddenly from the alphabet
Was heard a loud “Tut-Tut!”
Said A to B, “I don’t like C;
His manners are a lack.
For all I ever see of C
Is a semi-circular back!”
“I disagree,” said D to B,
“I’ve never found C so.
From where I stand he seems to be
An uncompleted O.”
C was vexed, “I’m much perplexed,
You criticise my shape.
I’m made like that, to help spell Cat
And Cow and Cool and Cape.”
“He’s right” said E; said F, “Whoopee!”
Said G, “‘Ip, ‘Ip, ‘ooray!”
“You’re dropping me,” roared H to G.
“Don’t do it please I pray.”
“Out of my way,” LL said to K.
“I’ll make poor I look ILL.”
To stop this stunt J stood in front,
And presto! ILL was JILL.
“U know,” said V, “that W
Is twice the age of me.
For as a Roman V is five
I’m half as young as he.”
X and Y yawned sleepily,
“Look at the time!” they said.
“Let’s all get off to beddy byes.”
They did, then “Z-z-z.”
Love This Woman
An ace chart of what to eat when. For more details, check out Eat Seasonably.
How Animals Eat Their Food.
Wrinkly Fingers. Why?
Aside from a built-in timer to get out of the bathtub, the ability for hands and feet to wrinkle after prolonged exposure to water may confer additional (and much more useful) evolutionary advantage.
Research suggests that wrinkled palmar and plantar surfaces act as “tire treads” and allow for heightened grip in wet environments.
Very interesting. Read more at the Evolution Facebook page.
Louis C.K. on smoking pot.
The Lunacy of Ink was born on Valentine's Day 2008... a gift from a suitor who liked my writing and wanted to give me a platform from which to flourish. So I married him. It's mostly a reportage style open diary.... of what I do and wish I didn't when drunk. And sober. With a bit of current affairs thrown in, whenever I feel I have something new to say about Kate Middleton.
I turn 30 on Sunday. Oh no, sorry, 31. I’m doing that thing old people do where they forget how old they are. Young people can never understand it – how can you not know how old you are? Believe me – there comes an age where you too will momentarily forget. The years blur.
How old ought a person be whence first they get their own mobile phone? I’m not keen on today’s technologically advancing world, so if I did bring up a child, I’d want to bring it up outside playing in the mud, not inside pestering me to buy it a smartphone.
But I hear that today’s kiddies don’t want mud as much as they want smartphones. Back in my day, kids didn’t have phones and they – we – were just fine thanks. Continue reading
Spotting the long queue of drunk people waiting for the bouncer to pronounce their admittance to the nightclub, I felt that familiar ‘I hate queues’ feeling one gets when one is faced with a queue one has to join.
However, there are not a lot of nightclubs in the world (one, actually) where I can do this, so I did it. I went straight to the front.
Mum was ever so excited when we declared our engagement. ‘I’ll buy your wedding dress!’ she generously offered. Later, when she started looking into the cost of a half decent dress, Mum was shocked to see some cost as much as £200. I didn’t know how to tell her that her verbal contract was binding and the fact I had my eye on a £1500 dress was neither here nor there.
Something has been troubling me since I became someone’s wife. For 30 years, I ticked the ‘miss’ box without any thought. For eight months, which is how long I’ve been married, congratulations to me, I have had to hover over the boxes, unsure what to do with myself. I am not a Mrs Jones, because I have not taken the lucky man’s name, and I’m certainly not Mrs Willis, because that is my mum’s title. I am not a Miss, because apparently you can’t be a Miss married. And I take umbrage to Ms, because it’s a bit pernickety.
But I wasn’t always this way. I used to like loads of hippy shit. I spent £1 buying 2p once, because I was told the two pence piece had special properties that would prevent my mobile phone giving me cancer. I had my tarot cards read, got pricked with acupuncture needles when I hurt my back and dragged my husband to a palm reader very early on in our relationship when he was still polite enough to let me. Continue reading
Remember a few weeks ago how I waved goodbye to my campervan? That was fun. Since then, I’ve been trying to welcome a new vehicle into my life. But thanks to my unenviable ability to insult every car dealer I’ve tried to buy a car from, it proved harder than I thought.
Growing up, there was, of course, the likes of Monopoly (too long) and Downfall (nostalgic, but really, where are the laughs? And not strictly a board game.)