Oh how I wish I had a button like this one. Although I'd probably get some kind of weird repetitive strain injury from pushing it a lot.

Speaking of buttons .. As you might know, I have a general dislike of idioms and one of my least favourites is 'don't push my buttons.' (It's right up there with 'Gather the low hanging fruit' and 'Doing a bit of blue sky thinking'.. ) The definition of that, in the nicest vocabulary I can muster, is 'you are starting to annoy me.' Otherwise known in my brain as ... wait for it ... 'You are starting to piss me off, so back the fuck up before I turn into a hurricane of rage and get all thermonuclear on your ass..' Or something to that effect.

This is the tangent paragraph where I tell you that I've only ever become a bad meteorological analogy once and it's the only time I've ever punched someone. Being sweet, innocent and dreadfully 21 at the time,  I didn't know you aren't supposed to punch someone with your thumb tucked neatly inside your fist. So I broke mine. I spent the entire summer that year in plaster. The karmic bit, because life is like that, is that my broken thumb was set in a super classy 'thumbs up' position. So not only did I have an awesome reputation for being someone who punches someone, I looked like Fonzie for five weeks. Aaay!

Sorry - where was I?

I do think we all have other sorts of buttons as well. Like, I wouldn't really admit it, but I totally have a soft, gooey button (easy there, pervert) that is a bit tricky to find at times that makes me go all mushy and sentimental and usually results in my brain turning into that of a gay 12 year-old girl.

But I suppose more discussion on that topic should really be for another time. You know, like, when I've been drinking and get all tired and emotional. Oh, wait. I forgot. I'm not that girl. Uh.. I'll just go gather some low hanging fruit now.