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18 September

Y'know the feeling when you've got a penis sheath* traditionally worn by native male inhabitants of some (mainly highland) ethnic groups in New Guinea lying around, and you just don't know what to do with it? No? Well, HoneyDragon does.

*a koteka. Honestly, don't they teach anything in schools these days?

"What practical use could one have in the household for a koteka? I've exhausted the only obvious option, which was to turn the dog into a unicorn. Wtf do I do with a 12" penis sheath?" she cried.

"Fill it with twigs and surround it with pebbly shit?" suggested EmpressKnowsWhereHerTowelIs. Well, this is Mumsnet after all.

"Or you could use it as a penis sorting hat for any Harry Potter themed dinner parties," offered CharlieUniformNovemberTango.

SaucyJack took a practical approach, and suggested using it to "safely transport cucumbers home from Asda".

But it was ErrolTheDragon who asked the most important question: "Why do you have it? Did someone leave it after a party? The story of Cinderella springs unbidden to mind..."

"Because DH came home and said 'here' and handed me a koteka," replied HoneyDragon.  DUH.

"Not suitable for your DH to wear to the office then?" asked BlackAmericanoNoSugar. "Is it the wrong colour for that?"

"DH has been reading, and apparently a giant meteorite is going to hit Earth on 28 September" announced LifeIsChaos. "He's asked me if I think the prediction is real, and thinks we should spend all our time 'cuddling', just in case it is."

Mumsnetters were, on the whole, unruffled by this dire news. 

"Can we just hold on until after the Rugby World Cup please?" bargained Stickerrocks

"Should I set up some sort of out of office reply on my work email?" mused SilverMachine. "Something along the lines of: 'I am currently out of the office due to the extinction of the human race. Apologies for any inconvenience caused. Kind regards.'"

"It better not be true, it's just taken me eight bloody hours to put up DD's new bed, herein known as Bastard Bunk Bed," grumbled tigerscameatnight.

"Honestly. That's the day the roof is going on the new extension! Could they reschedule until next year perhaps? It's not really convenient," fumed MrsFlorrick

If anything is going to stop the apocalypse, you know it's going to be Mumsnetters protecting their DIY/home improvement projects. Pretty sure Nostradamus wrote that somewhere. 

Now from hedgehogsdontbitea tale of passion, endurance, loyalty and boiling resentment water.

"When I left home 25 years ago my parents bought me a cheap Swan kettle. It's been with me ever since. But the fact is, the love has gone. It looks its age. I know I'm shallow to want a nice pretty one that matches my toaster. But the bastard won't die! AIBU if I send it off with the next charity shop collection? Will I have to face the wrath of the God of Small Appliances?â€

"So basically you are saying you want a trophy kettle? You should be ashamed of yourself!" said a disgusted SilverNightFairy.

"Bung the old kettle in a cupboard. Buy a shiny new one. When shiny new one dies within six months, you can have a loving reunion with old kettle. They do say make up sex is the best," advised electricflyzapper.

But CigarsofthePharoahs could sympathise, being similarly trapped in a loveless marriage with her microwave.

"It's sat in my kitchen, its immense bulk taking up more worktop than it has a right to, glaring at me smugly every time I go in. It will probably outlive me."

But heed catfordbetty, for the path to new appliance love doesn't always run smooth. 

"I had a television like that, it lasted for 20 years. I wanted a flat, rectangular HD job like everyone else but the bastard refused to die. Finally, DM said she couldn't hear it properly. That's it I said, I will not allow DM to suffer and went straight out for a Sony Bravia. Turned out DM's actually going deaf and the new TV made no difference."

A lesson for us all there <meaningful nod>.

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11 September

How is it that pastel hued, friendly little kids' cartoons can incite such rage in otherwise level headed reasonable members of society?

"Can I make Peppa into a delicious bacon sandwich?" asked Letmegetanamechange, with a maniacal glint in her eye.

Hoppinggreen, however, had her own axe to grind.

"I hope Ruby off Ruby and Max gets myxomatosis," she said, charitably.

"You lot need to stop picking on defenceless animals and help fund my Kickstarter to send Mike the Knight on a crusade," chimed in NorahBone.

But it seems there's one programme in particular that really gets the collective Mumsnet goat.

"I'm sorry but I'm going to have Bing put to sleep," said IHopeYouStepOnALegoPiece, to near-unanimous agreement.

"'It's a Bing thing'. No it's fucking not. It's just a thing," glowered TheDrsDocMartens.

"Bing is that child at playgroup who steals toys, runs amok, hits other children and is generally a pain in the arse, while Flop is the parent who watches with a simpering smile as his darling pickle 'expresses' himself," declared BrianCoxReborn.

<rubs back soothingly> That's right, let it all out...

Gather round, gang, GummyBunting has a theory.

"I think it would make the world a better place if children named themselves."

<crowd sits, agog>

"We are given a number at birth (stay with me), then on our fifth birthday we get to pick our own name. I just think the world would be nicer if we had names like Princess Monstertruck and Pants Face."

MidnightVelvetthe3rd was the first to point out the obvious flaw.

"I'm fairly sure it would be something bottom related, Bumface or Pooboy"

"My six-year-old has been insisting that everyone calls him Mittens for about two years now, and shows no sign of abating," said MmeGuillotine wearily.

Still, it's more wholesome than what TimeToMuskUp's husband went by.

"Apparently DH would dress himself as various dictators when he was younger, and had a penchant for Napoleon-style outfits. MIL thinks it was perfectly normal. I feel that a seven-year-old referring to himself as Goebbels is somewhat odd, but he's turned out ok."

Imagine the games of Risk in that household.  

The Labour leadership contest may have done irreparable damage to squigglehead, who shamefully admitted to having a raunchy sex dream about Jeremy Corbyn (or should we say, Phwoar-byn?).

However, she is a bastion of moral fortitude compared with SOME Mumsnetters we could mention.

"I once dreamt I had hot, sweaty sex with Harold Bishop from Neighbours," admitted coveredinsnot

"I've mentioned before about shagging Worzel Gummage but that pales into insignificance after Sunday night's horror. I was having very enjoyable sex with a naked old lady. She was the granny from Gavin and Stacey who got left behind the couch at a Christmas Eve party." We are JUDGING YOU, maras2.

But we'll give squoosh the final word:

"Terry Wogan."

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4 September

Forget Hollywood - the best place for glitzy, sexy celeb encounters is clearly Mumsnet. 

"I served fish and chips to the woman who played Vera Duckworth in Corrie," announced ValancyJane <paparazzi go wild, crowds of screaming teenage girls swoon>.

ThunderInMyHeart added this racy tell-all:

"My substitute GCSE history teacher once shared a student house with Will Young."

Which is pretty damn exciting, but pales when compared to HarlettOScara's upbringing as a child star: 

"My brother and I appeared in a Hoseasons holiday brochure in the late 80s."

NorksAreMessy's anecdote combined expert use of the possessive plural and the most tenuous of sleb connections:

"DH's PA's son's best friend's girlfriend's sister is Robert Plant's girlfriend. I am practically in the band."

"I've seen the red-haired model from QVC shopping in Kingston. Twice!" parried Heelsdown.

But Fairygodfucker's contribution had it all:

"June Brown of Dot Cotton fame once commented favourably on the 'generous proportions' of my then DP's genitalia."

That, my friends, is what you call a showstopper. 

There is something strange going on. This week it transpired that an alarming number of Mumsnetters had attended schools which had randomly burnt to the groundPobspits was the first to come forward:

"It burnt down, and instead of sending us home we had to sit on the playing field and watch. Oh and then my next school burnt down too, but that was at night..."

"My primary school burnt to the ground as well!" chimed in a thrilled shouldnthavesaid.

"My school burnt down too!" added Snowfilledsky. "We got to break up for summer early. They had a footprint as evidence so we all had to take our shoes to the police station."

"My school also burnt down. Apparently, the supposed-but-never-officially-identified culprit is now an airline pilot," added StandoutMop.

Blimey, aren't school memories generally supposed to be whimsical flashbacks to halcyon days, jolly hockey sticks etc? Ah, apparently not: 

"My school organised a mini bus trip to the clinic for anyone who'd had 'relations' with a certain character from the boys' school because there was a huge chlamydia outbreak."

Goodness, Hellotherehowareyoudoing. That makes arson sound a bit passé, doesn't it?

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Last updated: almost 3 years ago