Logic: The Bea Wildered way

Caffeine today: 2 Americanos, 1 expresso and 1 tea. BUT I have also had 1 Redbush Tea annnnnnnnnnnd I actually drank water today too, a whole 2 litres, get me!

As a mostly bewildered person it will not surprise you if I say I have ongoing bewildering issues in my life and odd incidents frequently occur that cause me to look behind bushes for the ghost of Jeremy Beadle. However instead of getting blue about the real reasons why shit happens I have decided to create my own, more positive “Bea Wildered” reasons.

Here are just ten (I could share more with you but the internet isn’t big enough) bewildering ‘things’ where I have decided the truth behind them is just far too depressing, so instead of crying into a bottle of wine I have spun a web of excuses as to why they have happened using the Bea Wildered (BW) school of logic (incidentally, I will probably drink the wine anyway).

Thing 1: I forget words frequently throughout the day and always forget why I walked upstairs.
BW logic: Afterbirth was my brain.

Thing 2: I once put leftover food in the dishwasher and a perfectly good plate in the bin.
BW logic: It was national arse-about-tit day but it was a secret and only I and MI5 knew about it.

Thing 3: We lost our potato peeler (we never did find it) and I had to buy a new one.
BW logic: It was stolen by a millionaire kleptomaniac with low expectations but he/she was so pleased with my potato peeler they have decided to leave their fortune to me in their will.

Thing 4: When I was 5 I farted in school assembly whilst the Deputy Head was preaching about how to turn pages in reading books without tearing them. I thought it was going to be silent. It wasn’t. 100 children laughed. I didn’t.
BW logic: I saved the school from the boring speech we had all heard like a cuhbillion times before and my expressionless not-laughing face was the early onset of an anti-wrinkle technique. It’s now called Botox.

Thing 5: My eyebrows are turning grey.
BW logic: There will be a future trend to draw badgers above one’s eyes and I will be admired by the likes of Vogue and Heat magazine will run a feature on how to get badger eyebrows like Bea Wildered. It will be called “Badger! She’s sexy!” or something like that.

Thing 6: I am 37 and still get lots of spots on my chin, nose, forehead, cheeks (so my whole face) and neck.
BW logic: My husband fears my extraordinary beauty will attract the likes of Daniel Craig who will leave his wife for me and steal me away to live on a beautiful sex island. My poor husband feels he has no choice but to rub a red spot and blackhead bacteria serum into my face whilst I sleep.

Thing 7: I talk to my husband, my husband talks to me. Neither one of us can remember what the other said.
BW logic: We are in the longest ever episode of Doctor Who and our conversations are being stolen by our time travelling alien children who don’t want to be sold online in the future.

Thing 8: It doesn’t matter how long I spend getting ready, how carefully I apply my make up or how much I hairspray my hair, after half an hour of being out my hair always frizzes up and my makeup slips half an inch to the left.
BW logic: My brains are massive and the addition of social conversation (which many a genius finds difficult) pumps the grey matter up to a size my skull cannot handle and therefore it fires through my hair like electricity and seeps out my skin like oil creating an invisible slip.

Thing 9: I frequently go out with my knickers on inside out, t-shirts back to front and sometimes inside out and back to front.
BW logic: I am the first person from Back To Front and Inside Out world to step through a hidden portal into this world. I will become hailed as a miracle and fed cake and prosecco by half naked hot scientist men who adore my cute way of life and live their lives to keep me happy so I stay in this world.

Thing 10: Once upon a time on the way home from the pub in my yoof I drunkenly decided to take a wee behind the local library (a frequented drunken wee stop by my friends and drinking associates at the time). Whilst coopying down in the dark I smelt a very suspicious smell coming from under my shoe, there was no mistaking it, it was a poo. A human poo. Judging by the size and smell of it I would hazard a guess it was probably a very large, sandwich eating, cider drinking male poo. If you’re questioning my judgement then you’ll just have to trust me when I say you just know. When one is unfortunate enough to have it under one’s foot a deep and ancient instinct tells you it’s not a dog poo, it is a person poo. Any doubt was kicked out the next day when I cleaned my shoe in broad daylight. I can confirm this process is not a cure for a hangover.
BW logic: I have reached the depths of my positivity and read all the books in the Bea Wildered school of logic and for the life of me I cannot find a good reason as to why this transpired. Oh well, shit happens!

Bea x







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