I wonder if any Yorkshire people have ever told her to ''put wood in'th oil'' (shut the door).
That would totally flummox her.:D
Picky Yorkshire lass responding - th'oil is Lancashire. We'd be more likely to say t'oil over this side o't'Pennines. Although she is pretty near the border
I'd love her to go to South Yorkshire and see what she made of 'Shut thi gob or ah'll clatter thee'.
I may be wrong but I think the heggggggg thing comes from the Bridget Jones books, I know it's in there & given that Jonesey as taken to likening herself to Bridget lately it seems pretty likely that she is nicking off other writers.
Actually thinking about it, didn't she have a pop at Helen Fielding recently in one of her witterings?
I do feel sorry for poor innocent Sam/Michael. It wasn't his fault that she refused to discipline him or teach him to obey commands, or to keep him under control in any way. It wasn't his fault that he suffered as long as he did because she didn't take him to the vet when she should have. It's not the first time she has put her feelings over an animal's welfare. I wish I could think it would be the last, but I'd be wasting my time.
That woman should not be allowed to keep pets, she has no idea how to treat them, the dogs should have been trained but she obviously has no idea how to. I also have no sympathy for her over the loss of poor Michael, if she has allowed him to suffer, which it looks like she has , that is wicked. I can only say, thank goodness she never had kids. The mind boggles !
Keeping Sam/Michael in a car for eight hours was stupid if not downright cruel. She wasn't actually moving far, so why not ask Nic to look after him overnight and then collect him once she was moved into her new place..
Picky Yorkshire lass responding - th'oil is Lancashire. We'd be more likely to say t'oil over this side o't'Pennines. Although she is pretty near the border
I'd love her to go to South Yorkshire and see what she made of 'Shut thi gob or ah'll clatter thee'.
I stand corrected but in my 51 years in Bradford I never heard it.
After living in the West milands it's great to be back among familiar accents - My vowels are longer and flatter than ever before and I love it when one of my neighbours greets me with "Ow do?"
Pity LJ is a vegan really, ( omelettes and buttery soft leather aside), she could have had a freezer full of mutton and not had all those 3 day fasts where she couldn't afford to eat/had no car to get to the shop.
I recall on big brother she claimed to walk miles every day with the doggies,maybe into the village might have been an idea.She really puts all us humans to shame when she works 23hrs and still does this btw.
I don't have sympathy for the loss of the sheep killer/cat mauler. I recall her attitude when a walker was bitten. How very dare people use a public footpath, they deserve to get attacked by crazy dogs.>:(
Sorry to add again, but just read more of that article.Poor innocent Sam/Michael was threatened by a nasty farmer,but could never harm a sheep. Now she admits he "ate one" before he twigged he could have M&S human food.:rolleyes:
I'm a bit confused, if this is Samslashmichael, he was already 17 in 2014? Or she had 2 sheep worriers amongst her 'puppies' slash husbands slash sons?
I stand corrected but in my 51 years in Bradford I never heard it.
After living in the West milands it's great to be back among familiar accents - My vowels are longer and flatter than ever before and I love it when one of my neighbours greets me with "Ow do?"
That site does say ''Put wood i’th’oil'', so perhaps it's a matter of spelling.
I'm a bit confused, if this is Samslashmichael, he was already 17 in 2014? Or she had 2 sheep worriers amongst her 'puppies' slash husbands slash sons?
It's just that in the dreary before this one she said Sam slash whatever must be ' at least 17'.' According to her in 2014, he WAS 17, which now makes him close 20 years old. His age seems as elastic as Liz's. Or else just another example of making it up as you go along. I am incidentally appalled by your linked article, had forgotten her various excuses for the mutt, including eating a myxi rabbit as being some sort of 'kindness' to diseased rabbits.
It's just that in the dreary before this one she said Sam slash whatever must be ' at least 17'.' According to her in 2014, he WAS 17, which now makes him close 20 years old. His age seems as elastic as Liz's. Or else just another example of making it up as you go along. I am incidentally appalled by your linked article, had forgotten her various excuses for the mutt, including eating a myxi rabbit as being some sort of 'kindness' to diseased rabbits.
We all know she has a selective memory when it comes to - well, everything.
Yes, that article is appalling. She seems to think she's redeemed both herself and the dog by being there when the vet put down the lamb. >:(
In that article she also says" I knew, now, that he had killed the other lamb. This must be the reason he was abandoned by the side of the road. When a dog starts killing sheep, that’s it. "
I do wonder if Sam/Michael/husband/sheep killer were in fact two different animals.
It was never just one sheep killed anyway.
In that article she also says" I knew, now, that he had killed the other lamb. This must be the reason he was abandoned by the side of the road. When a dog starts killing sheep, that’s it. "
I do wonder if Sam/Michael/husband/sheep killer were in fact two different animals.
It was never just one sheep killed anyway.
I thought he was a rescue dog - and here, she's come to realise that he is a sheep killer and that's why he was abandoned in the first place.
I thought he was a rescue dog - and here, she's come to realise that he is a sheep killer and that's why he was abandoned in the first place.
Apparently the late Sam (RIP poor thing), the dog formerly known as 'Michael' had only stumps for teeth, because as Jones explains in some long past Diary or one of her books, the vet said he'd tried to chew through the chains his previous owners used to tether him.
So - don't want to go into gory details - but HOW does a dog with stumps of teeth actually EAT a sheep, or parts thereof? Did he sort of ... um ... suck the animal to death?
In which I decide that it's been far too long since I repeated David's private conversations in print, administer another kicking as regards his attempts to buy me something nice, gratuitously drag his aged mother into matters and once again make it clear that it's Dipstick or No Stick. And as for the assertion that ' I don't make things up', what an absolute joke. Mind you, my sympathy for David is somewhat limited, why on earth has he returned for more? The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over while expecting a different outcome. SURELY this time he's heading for the lawyers to get some sort of cease and desist injunction in place and gives everybody, including her long suffering readers, a break.
Raking in my virtual money since I totes called this.
Liz constantly complaining about EVERYTHING wears thin and yet I still read.
Moves into new building, breaks rules, is told off about breaking rules:
Normal person: cringes with embarrassment, blushes hotly, feels terrible, tippy-toes around a bit resentfully for a week, quietly grumbles inside their flat about stupid rules, wishes they didn't have to abide by stupid rules.
Liz: Points out other tenants' bad decor choices, feels insulted that she wasn't met by a welcoming committee, plans to continue breaking rules because she disagrees with them, will nonetheless whine about subsequent chastisement and eviction.
Gets kind presents from ex after snippy breakup and a few weeks of moping over sad dog scenario
Normal person: Says thank you politely but coolly.
Liz: Looks down on presents, responds with curious nonsequitur about jewellery that implies she only wanted a present if it was jewellery (to send back? To accept along with implied proposal? What?) and nice apology for being a bitch. Waits desperately for response, clearly indicating to The Reader that she wants him back in her life. On receipt of response that is not all "You and only you are the one I love, I should never have lied to you by omitting to mention I spoke to the mother of one of my children with whom I have not been intimately involved in a decade, I have bought a palatial home along with this Cartier ring that I should have sent you earlier. be mine forever", proceed to slag off gifts further and make snide remarks.
I think that one reason I find Liz annoying is that she goes on and on about how dreadful her life has been, while in fact not having a great deal to complain about. Many of us have had similar problems (and have usually responded with more grace): had boyfriends / husbands who weren't perfect, who cheated on us, or bought cheap presents; had parents who couldn't afford the pony (or whatever) we longed for; had pets die; had siblings and/or parents die; and so on. The thing is, none of the things she complains about are particularly unusual for people over 30. She hasn't had to go through things some of my friends have gone through: for instance,
--had a father hacked to death in front of his eyes;
--had a child die of cancer;
--had their mother die of cancer before the child was 12;
--had operations to remove cancerous lumps; had her uterus and ovaries removed in her 30s because of uterine cancer;
--gone through chemotherapy and radiation;
--learned that all the same, it hadn't worked, and she was in fact dying;
. . . and on and on. No limbs removed, no relatives crushed in car accidents, nothing that might put her puny sorrows into some kind of perspective. It's just difficult to have any sympathy for Liz when her life HASN'T REALLY BEEN PARTICULARLY BAD.
In fact, her life would have been pretty good if she didn't have a completely self-destructive tendency to do things like spend outrageous amounts of money; figure taxes were for other people trash men she's slept with in the popular press; insist that the rules (for keeping dogs on a lead, say) are for other people; badmouth various people in her columns, and let her animals suffer too long because she's too damn selfish to have suffering beings put down.
That's it. Start complaining when your life is genuinely unusually bad, Liz. Till then, kindly just put a sock in it.
She seems to have extrapolated a reminder to keep her dogs on a lead around her property to mean the whole of Yorkshire. And the non existent car seems to have reappeared long enough to annoy her neighbours. I do not believe her agents wrote to her in the terms she uses, but since the letter is in quotation marks, it must be true, because she 'never makes things up'.
The farticle is just the nth rehashing of her standard pet peeves, I.e. 'impoverished' childhood and stay at home mother who did not fully prepare her for a life on Fleet St, ungrateful co-workers, idiot husband, useless boyfriend, with another celebrity and her children used as the hook for another run round those blocks. Really pathetic so-called journalism.
When you open it, don't be put off if the text appears to be blanked out - just scroll down, tick 'no thanks' to the survey offered, and the text will appear. Particularly interesting is the long comment underneath - from which it sound as though the Richmond place wasn't, shall we say, in the most salubrious state. And the comment about three cats with badly matted fur is awfully upsetting.
It's just a rehash of her perpetual moans - childhood, Fleet St, Marie Clair, husband, boyfriend, everybody hates me when I am so kind. Added extras of digs at nurses (why?) and workmen. Sprinkle in some loveless, barren (sic) and alone whinge and you have the article,
Jane Alexander points out that it's a really good idea to get to know one's neighbours and be on good terms with them. But when it came to Jones and neighbourly relations, she writes: 'Yet Jones firmly ignored hers. One poor soul finally took the initiative and went over, pot of jam in hand, to say hello. She was greeted with an irritated frown. ''I can't talk to you now, I'm doing a photo shoot,'' Jones said, firmly shutting the door in her face.'
Anyway, looks like Jones has got off to a bad start with her new neighbours after only a few hours' residence - 'puppies' barking in the garden in the wee small hours, mis-parking her car, dogs not on leads. 'Abuse' to put a dog on a lead? Give me strength!
I imagine the neighbours know already who's moved in near them and are reading her drivel and I bet they'll love her crack about their taste in ornaments! And I want to know about the CATS - I see they got a mention in today's Dreary. Surely she didn't bring all seventeen with her (if indeed she ever really did have that many).
By the way, did anyone notice that she used the word 'nothing' five times. It's reputed that she gets at least a pound a word, so that's a fiver ... talk about padding out a load of utter bilge - nice work if you can get it!
Comments
Picky Yorkshire lass responding - th'oil is Lancashire. We'd be more likely to say t'oil over this side o't'Pennines. Although she is pretty near the border
I'd love her to go to South Yorkshire and see what she made of 'Shut thi gob or ah'll clatter thee'.
I may be wrong but I think the heggggggg thing comes from the Bridget Jones books, I know it's in there & given that Jonesey as taken to likening herself to Bridget lately it seems pretty likely that she is nicking off other writers.
Actually thinking about it, didn't she have a pop at Helen Fielding recently in one of her witterings?
That woman should not be allowed to keep pets, she has no idea how to treat them, the dogs should have been trained but she obviously has no idea how to. I also have no sympathy for her over the loss of poor Michael, if she has allowed him to suffer, which it looks like she has , that is wicked. I can only say, thank goodness she never had kids. The mind boggles !
My gran used to say it and she was from Leeds.
This site says it's a Yorkshire phrase. Scroll down. http://www.southyorkshiretimes.co.uk/whats-on/arts/yorkshire-day-47-words-and-phrases-you-would-only-ever-hear-in-yorkshire-1-7384766
From a picky half Yorkshire lass.
I stand corrected but in my 51 years in Bradford I never heard it.
After living in the West milands it's great to be back among familiar accents - My vowels are longer and flatter than ever before and I love it when one of my neighbours greets me with "Ow do?"
I'm a bit confused, if this is Samslashmichael, he was already 17 in 2014? Or she had 2 sheep worriers amongst her 'puppies' slash husbands slash sons?
That site does say ''Put wood i’th’oil'', so perhaps it's a matter of spelling.
It was Michael/Sam in 2008.
http://www.dailymail.co.uk/home/you/article-1037269/Liz-Jones-diary.html
It's just that in the dreary before this one she said Sam slash whatever must be ' at least 17'.' According to her in 2014, he WAS 17, which now makes him close 20 years old. His age seems as elastic as Liz's. Or else just another example of making it up as you go along. I am incidentally appalled by your linked article, had forgotten her various excuses for the mutt, including eating a myxi rabbit as being some sort of 'kindness' to diseased rabbits.
We all know she has a selective memory when it comes to - well, everything.
Yes, that article is appalling. She seems to think she's redeemed both herself and the dog by being there when the vet put down the lamb. >:(
I do wonder if Sam/Michael/husband/sheep killer were in fact two different animals.
It was never just one sheep killed anyway.
I thought he was a rescue dog - and here, she's come to realise that he is a sheep killer and that's why he was abandoned in the first place.
Apparently the late Sam (RIP poor thing), the dog formerly known as 'Michael' had only stumps for teeth, because as Jones explains in some long past Diary or one of her books, the vet said he'd tried to chew through the chains his previous owners used to tether him.
So - don't want to go into gory details - but HOW does a dog with stumps of teeth actually EAT a sheep, or parts thereof? Did he sort of ... um ... suck the animal to death?
Liz constantly complaining about EVERYTHING wears thin and yet I still read.
Moves into new building, breaks rules, is told off about breaking rules:
Normal person: cringes with embarrassment, blushes hotly, feels terrible, tippy-toes around a bit resentfully for a week, quietly grumbles inside their flat about stupid rules, wishes they didn't have to abide by stupid rules.
Liz: Points out other tenants' bad decor choices, feels insulted that she wasn't met by a welcoming committee, plans to continue breaking rules because she disagrees with them, will nonetheless whine about subsequent chastisement and eviction.
Gets kind presents from ex after snippy breakup and a few weeks of moping over sad dog scenario
Normal person: Says thank you politely but coolly.
Liz: Looks down on presents, responds with curious nonsequitur about jewellery that implies she only wanted a present if it was jewellery (to send back? To accept along with implied proposal? What?) and nice apology for being a bitch. Waits desperately for response, clearly indicating to The Reader that she wants him back in her life. On receipt of response that is not all "You and only you are the one I love, I should never have lied to you by omitting to mention I spoke to the mother of one of my children with whom I have not been intimately involved in a decade, I have bought a palatial home along with this Cartier ring that I should have sent you earlier. be mine forever", proceed to slag off gifts further and make snide remarks.
--had a father hacked to death in front of his eyes;
--had a child die of cancer;
--had their mother die of cancer before the child was 12;
--had operations to remove cancerous lumps; had her uterus and ovaries removed in her 30s because of uterine cancer;
--gone through chemotherapy and radiation;
--learned that all the same, it hadn't worked, and she was in fact dying;
. . . and on and on. No limbs removed, no relatives crushed in car accidents, nothing that might put her puny sorrows into some kind of perspective. It's just difficult to have any sympathy for Liz when her life HASN'T REALLY BEEN PARTICULARLY BAD.
In fact, her life would have been pretty good if she didn't have a completely self-destructive tendency to do things like spend outrageous amounts of money; figure taxes were for other people trash men she's slept with in the popular press; insist that the rules (for keeping dogs on a lead, say) are for other people; badmouth various people in her columns, and let her animals suffer too long because she's too damn selfish to have suffering beings put down.
That's it. Start complaining when your life is genuinely unusually bad, Liz. Till then, kindly just put a sock in it.
The farticle is just the nth rehashing of her standard pet peeves, I.e. 'impoverished' childhood and stay at home mother who did not fully prepare her for a life on Fleet St, ungrateful co-workers, idiot husband, useless boyfriend, with another celebrity and her children used as the hook for another run round those blocks. Really pathetic so-called journalism.
http://www.yorkshirepost.co.uk/news/opinion/jayne-dowle-for-the-benefit-of-liz-jones-here-s-the-yorkshire-countryside-s-natural-order-1-8139962
When you open it, don't be put off if the text appears to be blanked out - just scroll down, tick 'no thanks' to the survey offered, and the text will appear. Particularly interesting is the long comment underneath - from which it sound as though the Richmond place wasn't, shall we say, in the most salubrious state. And the comment about three cats with badly matted fur is awfully upsetting.
Oh yes, there is:
http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-4144340/Liz-Jones-Nicole-Kidman-raising-alpha-girls.html
Read on if you want to be offended (again).
It's just a rehash of her perpetual moans - childhood, Fleet St, Marie Clair, husband, boyfriend, everybody hates me when I am so kind. Added extras of digs at nurses (why?) and workmen. Sprinkle in some loveless, barren (sic) and alone whinge and you have the article,
Bet she wouldn't know the difference between it and one bought in Superdrug, if put to the test!
I refer you to a feature in The Daily Telegraph http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/earth/countryside/6061835/Why-Liz-Jones-is-wrong-about-Exmoor.html - by Jane Alexander, published in August 2009, when Jones was whining about how awful people were in Exmoor.
Jane Alexander points out that it's a really good idea to get to know one's neighbours and be on good terms with them. But when it came to Jones and neighbourly relations, she writes:
'Yet Jones firmly ignored hers. One poor soul finally took the initiative and went over, pot of jam in hand, to say hello. She was greeted with an irritated frown. ''I can't talk to you now, I'm doing a photo shoot,'' Jones said, firmly shutting the door in her face.'
Anyway, looks like Jones has got off to a bad start with her new neighbours after only a few hours' residence - 'puppies' barking in the garden in the wee small hours, mis-parking her car, dogs not on leads. 'Abuse' to put a dog on a lead? Give me strength!
I imagine the neighbours know already who's moved in near them and are reading her drivel and I bet they'll love her crack about their taste in ornaments! And I want to know about the CATS - I see they got a mention in today's Dreary. Surely she didn't bring all seventeen with her (if indeed she ever really did have that many).
By the way, did anyone notice that she used the word 'nothing' five times. It's reputed that she gets at least a pound a word, so that's a fiver ... talk about padding out a load of utter bilge - nice work if you can get it!