Six not so sexy things men might want to avoid.

band mid-80s
Okay, we’re almost going from the sublime to the ridiculous as far as these photos are concerned. This is me in the band making an awful noise circa mid-80s, Germany.

Ladies! Would you say I’ve covered most things here?

To the majority of the male species:

Farting in front of your girlfriend might be permissible after you’ve been going out a few weeks but it’s a bit of a turn-off when you’ve just met. Not to mention it can be especially awkward when there’s no dog around on which to blame it. You boys are quick to point out what you don’t like to see in a new girlfriend such as the above breaking wind, her clothes, how she wears her hair and make-up, so I guess it’s only fair I give you a few pointers in return.

Got a minute?
Good! Use it to read my list of what not to do in front of the latest lady in your life.

Bare and Share!
Okay! When your lady is in the bathroom getting ready to go out or you’ve had what you deem to be a successful night and she’s getting ready in the morning… say no more… leave her alone to get on with it!

Not so much mysterious but mandatory.

I mean, do you really want to see the new lady in your life flossing her teeth? Plucking those stray little hairs from her chin; upper lip; nipples… what! You thought they came hair-free naturally? And neither would she want you to and certainly not at this stage of the relationship.

Picking!
Don’t pick. Not so much on what she’s wearing although that’s not a good move but I was thinking more along the lines of something else.

Attempting to find my way out of Brest Bretagne airport I was horrified to witness a man pushing his luggage trolley with one hand whilst the index finger on his other was in a vertical stance rooting about inside his nose like he’d lost something and was expecting to find it there. On his face he wore a dazed almost hypnotised expression. Was he perhaps encountering the delights of a nosegasm? It’s hideously disgusting! Don’t do it.

Breaking wind!
I think we’ve covered that. Treading on the proverbial frog is a turn-off but let’s face it we all do it and we wouldn’t be human if we didn’t. However, if you are suffering from an overload of flatulence I suggest you revise your diet. Have a cup of fennel tea, quit blaming the dog, and to help discharge any lingering odours burn a stick of incense or light some scented candles.

She’ll think you’re being romantic.

Espousing virtues!
When it’s about a previous girlfriend keep your endearments to yourself. We don’t want to hear about it. Like you, in the beginning of a relationship, we’re not overly confident whilst doing our best to put across the good vibes and hopefully hiding our less attractive ones. And hearing about the merits of your past conquests will only serve to put an emotional and possibly a physical distance between you and your lady. Wrong direction, right!

Manners!
Make sure you have them. We appreciate, and notice, manners in a bloke.
Be courteous. Open doors and allow the lady to go first. But be polite to others as well. A little courtesy will go a long way.

Personal hygiene!
I know I’ve covered this partially with the nose thing and the trumpet blowing but personal hygiene is a must. Keep your hands clean and all your other bits and bobs too. Nothing turns a woman off more if the bloke she’s about to kiss has breath on him that would challenge that of a yeti. And when in bed, boys, if the scent of sweet roses is noticeably absent and strains of what’s been put on them to make them grow is more reminiscent – be prepared to sleep alone.

And you’d deserve it!

And so ends my list of helpful hints in how to keep that new lady in your life just that little bit longer. So happy hunting and good luck! But basically, boys, just be your friendly and charming self and she should love you just the way you are.

Personally, I can’t be doing with all these dos and don’ts it does my head in.

So, if you need me, I’ll be here farting like a fox that’s just caught sight of a red jacket whilst leisurely plaiting the hairs hanging from my nipples.

Rosemary as a daffodil  Littlebrooke  circa 1965
And here I am again dressed as a daffodil as one does. Mid-60s, Crowthorne, Berkshire.

So, what’s been happening lately?

Organ played by JS Bach, Leipzig

Johann Sebastian Bach’s organ in St Thomas Church, Leipzig, Germany.

JS Bach, St Thomas Church with orbs

And here is one inside the church and I’m sorry to go back to ghosts but I can’t help but point out two orbs one of which is totally prominent. Don’t need arrows for that one but the other is a little harder to spot. It’s large but faint about halfway down the picture to the left of the large white pillar. The church was full of orbs as discovered later when looking at the pictures. Amazing.

Before I begin I’d just like to thank very much indeed each and every one out there in bloggy land who takes the time to read and/or like and/or follow my stuff. It is not unappreciated. Honest. Immense apologies if I don’t get around to thanking each blogger personally or swiftly but if I may re-direct you to my other blog (under my real name) as that little entry may go towards explaining the reasons behind that. No doubt I could put the direct link in here but that would mean a good working relationship between myself and computers, ha! I’ll do it this way and give you instructions.

http://rbachholzer.wordpress.com/ and if you are still with me and haven’t been put in a coma my admiration goes out to you. Simply toddle along to last week’s effort entitled “So, that’s how it is, is it?” and sincere thanks once again.

Hello you lot out there. Hope all is well and groovy. I’ve been busy. Absolutely! When one is ill one is being busy being ill which is par for the course so we won’t talk about it… um, what else. I now have a total of seven websites (one main site and six little static ones re-directing you to my main website which is predominantly their reason for being) and three blogs. What do you mean, do I have to?

Yes.

Actually, four blogs counting my book blog but it’s been so long since I’ve even popped by I’m not sure it still exists. Have to hack away at the virtual cobwebs when I do venture on to there. It will become more active once I’ve published and released my autobiography on which I am currently working. Not, actually, but I’m hoping talking about it will expel me into action. Takes time especially when I’m doing other things, being other things, hence the inactivity on the corresponding blog and… phew!

I’m also at the beginning of a new creative venture. Yes, typically, I got this bright idea and in my usual inimitable style have gone into all gung-ho. I’ll let you know how that turns out. It should be fun. In the meantime two words with which to tantalise you: Jewellery. Heavenly. Okay make that three: Designer. Jewellery. Heavenly.

And for my visual trip down memory lane, today I have a picture of JS Bach’s organ if you’ll pardon the expression. Took a trip there to St Thomas Church in Leipzig almost as a pilgrimage. Most emotional. Spiritual and touching. Was very moving.

TTFN. Best, best.
Wolfie.

“Blue Deep Ocean”. Pretty. Pretty. Personally I’m not a huge wearer of jewellery although I quite like to wear the odd one of my bracelets especially when the charms tinkle (good Karma apparently) but that doesn’t stop me from making quality stuff I hope others will enjoy and that which makes them happy.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

“Rose Garden”. Pretty in pink.

Insects, Fiat 500s and naked legs

Rosi and cats

This is me doing my impression of an Afghan hound and succeeding wonderfully. Bremerhaven, Germany, circa 1983. On the left in front of me is Friske and to the right, her sister, Bu. Why are my legs naked? Nothing saucy, I assure you. This was pre-tracksuits and leggings. It was summer, hot, I’d just got home from work, removed my tights and pencil skirt for comfort, and apart from a sort of dressing gown didn’t have what you now call leisurewear. Didn’t exist. On reflection I could have worn some dance leggings in a large size. That didn’t occur to me.

When an insect the shape of a flea, brown in colour and the size of a Fiat 500 invades my space, I do tend to become more than a little concerned. Especially when they, please note I refer to the aforementioned insect-come-car in the plural sense, congregate in the kitchen.

But what occurred last week is the limit. I mean, first it was the invasion of the Mosel worms and now this. Whatever they are! The Mosel insect-come-small-aircraft?

Really, I put up with the ‘Och,’ curses wrong accent. ‘Ach, zat is only zee German Mosel verm, zay are harmless,’ for long enough. Crawling all over the worktops and draining board until I put an end to their excursions by covering the overflow hole with a small strip of masking tape. Ha!

But, I diverse.

I’d left out overnight to drain on the draining board my small amount of clean washing-up. It’s more hygienic that way. Yes, in theory, certainly not when insects-come-small-abode-in-town-with-river-views descend upon it.

I grabbed my new ladle, bright yellow handle, good quality, heat-resistant plastic so not to scratch nice iron frying pan and was about to start stirring my garlic mushrooms when I spied something. I leant in closer only to recoil almost immediately. One of those insects-come-whatever was there right in front of me on my ladle partially squashed and half dead. Horrors! It could have ended up in my meal. Thank you very much!

My ex-husband was bemoaning the fact he hadn’t bought himself one of those snazzy utensils.

That was soon amended.

Until next time be well.
Wear it well.
Wolfie.

PS. Plug time. More about the Mosel verms and other daft tales (and tragically they are all true) can be found in “Musings Amusing”. It’s free! Visit, if you feel like living dangerously, my website as below for more details.

Rosie blog:
http://rbachholzer.wordpress.com/

Working website:
http://www.rosemarybachholzer.co.uk

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