The Wine Store Con.

Tim was looking forward to stockpiling on Jack Daniels for the Long Weekend, and he didn’t know whether it was seeing Natalie’s smile at the till, or wasting three full days being drunk, and watching TV- what was he wanted most…

He found Natalie sporting a tracksuit for the first time. She let him skip the queue as usual.

Tim has been an open alcoholic since he divorced 4 years ago, so he had given up hopes on finding a job and paying for all those credit cards. The girl looked happy and sad at the same time.

– You okay Natalie?

– Sure I’m okay, just trying to grow a beard for Monday…take these bags of yours, I packed the best deals for you!

– Only nineteen pounds?

– Yep… you might also want a phone voucher?

– What for? to call my imaginary friends?

– You never know! make up your mind quick Tim, the queue…

– ok then, a voucher please…

The bags weren’t so heavy.

Once he got home, he lit the fire, put on the Friday Comedy Shows, and got a nasty surprise…. orange juice! pomegranate juice! carrot juice! AND NO JACK DANIELS!

Instead, a Yoga Mat and a Beginners Yoga Book… now he couldn’t go back to Natalie’s for it was closing already… what on earth was Natalie on about?

“Hey, this yoga book is really beautiful…. I’ll try these out.. ” he was thinking about how to get Natalie sacked from the store at the beginning, but soon started feeling a compelling Love for her, as his body stretched and the knots up his back loosened….

“Gosh, this is kinda cool…”

After the first Yoga Chapter he sipped half the Carrot Juice and had a lovely warm shower, then forgot to switch off the TV set and fell asleep.

The next morning he had had beautiful dreams, and the letterbox opening brutally woke him up.

Through the letterbox someone had slipped cut out local job adverts from local magazines, like they were especially chosen for him….

He went through them.

He picked a few, and with the credit he had bought the night before he rung up five or six, and by 4 pm he had two interviews.

” oh, Natalie”, he thought to himself.

He couldn’t wait to give her the good news he got a job as a concierge at the main Hotel.

He wasn’t thinking of drinking anymore, only about the yoga and carrot juice. In a way, he was still secretly angry at Natalie.

The week after he thought he’d give himself a good boy whiskey treat and went to Natalie’s. To his surprise, a different girl was serving at the till.

– Do you have Jack Daniels?

– Natalie told me we can’t serve you any alcohol…

– But where is she?

– She took a sabbatical year to go to India and get her Yoga Teachers certificate… if you don’t buy alcohol you can give me your number and she’ll be in touch.

– But I could walk into any other store and buy some!

– Nope, Natalie’s got an eye on you…

– okay then, here’s my number…. and can I have three carrot juices please?

– Sure. it’s only five pounds. She winked at him.

– I hope Natalie gets her certificate soon, so I can teach her some Proper Yoga!!!!

The End.

Thanks for sharing!

Weaving Decadence.

If weaving Beauty, Patterns and Snapshots of the Human Mysterious Soul is her day to day job, once a month…. the Artist needs to blend into the World and touch the Ground.

She knows when her big Night is nearby, since her Studio has become like a Squat and she needs to flee, to compete against the sweet bees for the City’s Nectar.

For the World is jealous of her gift, and keeps nagging her dream job and accusing her from Laziness to being a Parasite.

Off she goes with her biker boots, Chanel Rouge and favourite Leather Bomber Jacket to savour the acidity of the traffic. And yes, she’s going to enjoy her night alone.

Four miles she walks under the reckless rain, no umbrella, no lady bag, letting the tides of savageness take her back and forth to the darkest and most prohibited places of the City.

Time has not a Clock here. The raindrops mark the accelerating Rythm of mediocrity.

Mediocrity that pays for her Bills.

In awe, she watches the languishing souls, hungry for the beauty and passion she delivers everyday.

Some stare at her, some try and kick her, but like a ballerina, she keeps pure and uncontaminated by the city’s dirt.

Jettons placed and jokes exchanged, she has captured the Devils work. She is so grateful she has never asked him a single favour.

Before she realises, she is home, and has no idea where all this cash in her purse came from…. yet she is delighted with it.

Her cat stares at her and is wondering when dinner shall be served to him!

She looks around- needs to do her monthly cleaning and start her new sketches.

She has taken revenge over this aggressive World, and she knows, no matter what, her innocence shall never be snatched again.

Slipping into her Hello Kitty pijamas, she cannot see her reflection in the mirror for she had 3 beers, and drops to sleep excited about the happy ending nightmares she is to experience.

Images of pedestrians crossing the road in the red lights start flashing by, and her new garments await for the next escapade.

The Artist is fed with Decadence, to process and feed the masses…. who pay for the cats food and biker boots.

The End.

Ladies Singing In The Rain!

Very bad Joke....terrible!
Not worth reading, hehe he...

– Why did Adam punch little holes on to his Umbrella?

To not upset the Rain!!!!

Ha, Ha, Hahaha, Hahaha!!!!!

Good Luck Scarabs are Here….!

please Share!!!!

Dance in your Mind whilst Asleep…

AuburnCopyright2021

AIs remain untalented….

Based on a true story.

Bloggers will be Bloggeresses…..

AND….

AND…..

I will keep my Spa as a secret….well, one of the many Spa secrets we Bloggers like to crash in….!!!!

This is One of our Team’s!!!!

Enjoy reading, sharing, and do contact me for any advice….ill reply once back from Holidays…. I’ll try to promise this!!!

Stay friendly…

AUBURN!!!!

Happiness…? My Definition.

Me and jesusito…

A lady on a plane once told me Hapiness doesn’t exist, its just moments….

Geology lovers like myself…

Some say its making new friends!!!

The American Dream is sill alive…

But I say happiness is letting a child be a child,

Just as my mummy always does, and my daddy too,

My naughty baby book written decades ago…

Never swear and never give up your dreams….

DON’T FORGET TO FOLLOW THIS BLOG, ITS JUST A CLICK AWAY!!!

The End.

Enjoy your summer, and remember, your next best friend might just be a few yards from you… right now…!

SELF PORTAIT…HE,HE..HEEE!!!

Now That’s the end of the story…. tomorrow or after after tomorrow more…..!!!

https://www.amazon.co.uk/Books-Sandra-Zouak/s?rh=n%3A266239%2Cp_27%3ASandra+Zouak

Sorry, its not the end yet… 44 was the year I refreshed my German with gern vergnugen…. Happy 45 to myself!!

Thanks to all the Angellas and Angelitos in the World….. And Beyond…. To Be Continued…..

Born Ginger …… Always a Ginger… We bring Good Luck according to popular belief….

REMEMBER: WE ALL HAVE THE RIGHT TO OUR OWN BELIEFS!!

Sweet rockabybabies to all mothers…Good Night!

The End for now…..

sandra xxx.

Thanks for all you explosively kind wishes!!! and I wish I could reply to each and everyone of you… Good Morning!!!

The Compulsive Guiney Pig…

You see her around

Sometimes talking to herself…

Others up in the Clouds.

…….She loves taking her pills….

Her voice echoes up and down;

Is she happy today…. furious, or just…

Playing the Clown???

……..She loves skipping her pills.….

For only She knows what she’s doing:

Yes she’s half-free,

Like a bird or even a fairy!

……..Is she in love with that Shrink….Or just acting Silly in Town?...

The End.

Thanks for sharing!

More Humor here

Mustard Shampoo

20200407_154806

– “Oh no Frances, don’t do that again! It’s only Tuesday…. What time is it?”

– “Early enough, and listen to this, it says Venus is aligning with the Moon today, and small events stemming from Capricorn’s innate daryness  will pamper you with a stream of luxurious payback…. can you translate this?”

– ” It means I need three spoons of sugar in my coffee today, stewardess!”

– “Oh.. I forgot to tell you, yesterday: we’ve run out of coffee.”

– “aarrrggghhhh…. check inside Tommy’s lottery box- if he’s still snoring…. you might find a couple of free coffee samples, as the horoscope suggests…”

– “I’m afraid I can’t, it says here- geminis  need to emphasise on time keeping today, or else  we may have to face self-piling workload.”

– “ok. Don’t forget the Arabica mild roast on your way back.”

– “I’ll write it on my hand. Bye! Don’t fall back asleep lucky capricorn!”

By a chance of luck, as I reach for my phone…. the battery’ s dead. Frances saved me again, because I had set the alarm  buzz for seven am.

Through the window I watch her walk away in a confident hurry, sporting a purple uniform and her favourite yellow crocs.

–  “Frances, I’m not a Capricorn, I’m a Sagittarius!!!” My words are trashed away by the noisy rubbish truck.

*          *          *

The boss has given us an extra lunch half hour, and once again the receptionist wants me to take her sample-hunting.

– “Let’s have lunch first, I suggest, there’s no queueing at the food stall right now. They said there might be a storm.”

– “What, is that what Francesca read on today’s horoscope?”

– “Don’t be jealous of her. She’s had it hard.”

– “And so have we all. Three samples for me and only one for her!”

– “Hot dogs?”, Asks the food stall lady.

– “Two for me with no ketchup, loads of mustard,  extra napkins and chopsticks please!” Anita’s not pulling her leg.

– “That will be eight pounds fifty, just eight pounds for you.”

– “I ‘ve not got enough coins…. so: Same order please,  but without the hotdogs!”

–  “Ummm… One seventy five, two seventy five, three pounds for you! And a hotdog on the house!”

– “Same for me please.”

– “Look, there’s a new bench there. Quick, grab it girl!”

I hesitate to ask then brave the question:

– “Anita, can I enquire…. why won’t you eat without chopsticks?”

– “They make me feel slender. That’s it.”

– “Oh, must be a precious feeling for a millennial female.”

– “Ok,  Capricorn! it’s beauty goodies time!”

– “But you only had mustard for lunch!”

– “Yes, I needed to make up for the free granola bars they were handing out at the station. Here, I took a couple for your pretty Frances.”

– “Thanks. We ve got twelve minutes left. Put some lipstick on, off we go on a lucky errand….. hey, I said lipstick, not Mustard!”

*          *          *

Anita was sniffing all the new shampoo and conditioner cute bottles, not lending an ear to me.

– “Do you do Mustard shampoo, Madame?”

– “Mustard shampoo? Not as far as I know. But our latest cinnamon edition shampoo and conditioner in one is your closest bet. Let me ask my supervisor anyway.”

Leaving all the bottle lids halfway screwed, Anita looks high on exotic essences.

– “Please Sir, could you be kind enough to fill in our creative suggestion form, and very importantly, your email address, because we are treating you with this season’s sample case.”

–  “But we’re late to work…”

– “No worries – I can quickly  fill it in for you,  because I am impressed with the beautiful shine on your girlfriends hair.”

– “Don’t misspell your email address again!” Anita the spoiler sometimes behaves like she’s my girlfriend.

Mission exceeded, we two colleagues are pleasantly excited  by what items we got inside the gift bags.

We hear a thunderbolt.

It’s raining so heavily we have to stay under the porch, dodging the upset bargain shoppers who only want a square inch of shelter.

The rain grows thicker and cooler. I’ll never forget the next five minutes, when Anita opens the coconut shampoo and the small crowd of shoppers instantly start querring about the product.

Anita wants the stage, and she starts foaming her hair under the storm.

I think they gave us an aphrodisiac instead of shampoo. Passers try and take pictures… but the rain’s too thick.

I cannot recall a sexier scene than my very professional receptionist washing her locks under the violent spring shower. I want to ask her what her sign on the horoscope is.

Anita needs not to feel jealous about any single millennial or trillinial chick. The girls got it.

Before the rain recedes the receptionist’s head is wrapped in a newspaper.

A rain scent still lingers on her- even today,  as all customers keep boomeranging back to our shop.

*           *          *

On my way back after work, I don’t bother to collect free papers to cut out the horoscope for Frances, as I’ve been fed up of doing for the past couple of years. All I can think of is brushing with Anita’s hair. I forget to pop into the supermarket to get a coffee jar for the flat. I even forgot Frances’ gift bag!

*         *          *

The flat door is unlocked and I am hoping it’s not  some burglars coming to steal toilet rolls. There’s sachets of mustard over the kitchen table. Frances treating my Anita again as a gesture of fair competition.

– “Thanks, Frances! Frances, you in?”

She sneaks out from Tommy’s bedroom. I pretend not to notice. The keetle beeps.

– “Who got the coffee?”

– “Tommy won a tenner on the Lotto! Says Frances, bottoming her uniform.

– “Well done.  Can I keep the change?”

The evening is light as usual,  lifting the work fatigue just when it’s time to sleep.

I could have guessed! These geesas  are a couple! No wonder they don’t mind me being three months behind the rent…

What other stuff is to be discovered this week? Do I have to peep on one of Frances’ horoscopes to find out?

*          *          *

Two weeks later, and as I am still scratching the love bite, a couple of emails come in at once.

One from the landlord, and one from the beauty store. Bad news is landlord going on a gap year so wants one years rent ahead, good news is we won the two shampoo recipe contests. I only submitted one- shampoo with rainwater…

Over the phone, Anita can’t believe her luck, and starts laughing and laughing,

– “I made up a mustard shampoo formula, just as a joke….. I didn’t even test it…. can’t believe we won the grand, plus the lifetime supply of beauty products!”

Well, it’s all typed somewhere in cyberspace. As for me I need to find a new room. The grand comes in handy.

– “You moving out with Frances?”

– “Nope!”

– “Then come to my block! there’s a free room on the second floor sharing with some dictionary animals…. sure they ‘ll love the mustard shampoo….”

– “Thanks.  I ‘ll check the horoscope and get back to you.”

– “No probs, Capricorn! I’ll be practising on a new sardines moisturising cream formula as a good bye prank to Frances – while you make up your mind…… gosh you really got me into this.”

– “Just to remind you girls once again, I am not a Capricorn, but the lucky Sagittarius…”

The End

Keep the competition happy!

Based on a True Story.

The Feathered Drone

20200324_194557

Alex remained indifferent to the plague all the village was worried about, for he was the village fool…

Errands for you, and you! fix my car, polish Mr Quito’s shoes in three minutes…. only, and only, for a bunch of coloured feathers.

And everybody was fond of him, we could even say proud of him. But why he loved the feathers – people kept on asking each other. There were always jokes going on about Alex’ s feathers, and he didn’t really like that- but nevermind! He always got beautiful ones from friends returning from holidays or business trips.

One morning the fool heard a knock on the door. He was asked to dispose of his feather collection, as a precaution to take against the enigmatic plague going around.

His flatmate Manu managed to agree to give the feathers, only if these would be returned once the disease would receed.

Manu kept checking on him all day, in case he would be upset without his feathers. But on his way back home, he was absorbed by the colourful decorations on his friends’ garden trees, and statues…

– “Isn’t all this festive? Alex has been charging everyone with old curtains… instead of feathers!” For the first time in a month, people were cracking jokes again, distracted at last from the same topic.

A couple of weeks later many folks were happily helping him make his creations, and some ladies even asked them to do their garden doors up.

The sick started to take tiny walks out- just to admire the colourful, crazy new attire their old town was showing.

When the subject was raised at the village neighbourhood meeting, all agreed that, even if Alex had asked for permission prior to putting up the funny decorations, the artwork would be removed after the summer.

In need of nonsense, the people were getting more ideas just to stay away from the taboo subject- from taking the cattle on a stroll to wearing flower diadems- anything to show they were not afraid.

* * *

Mario’s car wouldn’t start after a long day training at the doctor’s surgery, so he called the strong Alex to help push it back home. Once by the porch, he told the fool

– “Make sure you wash and dry all that sweat off before you go to sleep!”

– “No need.”

– “What?”

– “No need.” Mario looked at him, and Alex explained,

– “If I keep the sweat then I will grow feathers!”

The car engine started as a comical sychnonicity of events, for the idea this silly comment had sparked in Mario’s scientific mind made him rush back to the surgery lab, to stay and work on it for the following weeks.

The decorations in town started getting exaggerated and lost their novelty charm. With the plague, they added to the confusion. So down they came.

The fool thought he wanted his feathers back: he walked to the surgery hoping to find Mario, besides there being rumours he wasn’t in town.

Mario was on the phone speaking some foreign, very weird language. Saying something about a “formula“. When he saw Alex, he smiled and rushed inside to get the box of feathers.

– “Aye! My feathers!”

– “We got something even better. Wait here five minutes.”

– “A drone! A drone!” People were clapping. More drones followed. Maybe these were bringing vaccines!

– “I’m going to sleep in my bed now- please Alex, don’t say anything.”

– “I won’t.”

– “Oh, I wanted to ask you…. well, I was slightly curious…. why do you collect feathers?”

Alex put his head down and turned sad.

– The feathers…. my feathers… well, it’s just that maybe one day I’ll get invited to one of those really funny dressing up parties…. so I’m saving up all the feathers for my costume!”

The End.

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The Water Diamonds

Every night

Little diamonds float inside

The glass of water on my bedside table.

They glow with ease

The town is sweet.

I breathe harmony.

Another gift, another day

And as I pray

I am pleased . Because today

I did my best.

If these water bubbles could speak

They would certainly repeat

“Enjoy your rest, pray for the rest.

Although we’re cheap

We have in common:

A peaceful sleep,

We dream we’re free…

And wake up on our feet.”

5F93D960-07C0-4751-ACF2-018C349CECBB

The End.

Thanks for sharing!

AAAANNNNDDDDD…..

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