Sweeties, lovies, once again the treachery of fate has taken me away from the only friends I have ever known. The small crumbs of comfort I have ever been able to pick up from the cold floor. The only.... oh alright, I'll tell you. There have been laptop issues - or baggage as my mate would say.
A stork is bringing a new one. Why can't that bloody Dell have a frackin' shop? Its alright for them looking smug on their advert - lease out a premises, mates, and put a sign on the window. Never did PC world any harm!
So am furtively on this one (Husband's) for now. Bloody pain in the arse.
There was also the Thumb Affair. Bloody breaking Pistachio nuts with me thumbs, suddenly got this terrible and evil pain go through one of them. Bastard was throbbing all last week. I was this close to going to Casualty. NOT that anyone in this bloody house cared! But I am used to lack of emotion and love. Grown up with it.
Anyway, was on the verge of going, then the bloody pain lessened. Just like Rosemary's Baby - spooky!
Got my Christmas booze in. Tesco Value brandy and Tesco Imperial vodka (the small size), this'll do me. Husband has sneered at their cheapness but I bet if he had to put HIS hand in his pocket - well!
My one xmas outing that I'm really looking forward to is : "Its a Wonderful Life" with James Stewart is on at the Richmond Curzon over christmas. Have always wanted to see that on the big screen. Will be first in that queue. Who wants to come? It can be our little seasonal outing. Bit like an office party if you will. I'll bring the fags - hope everyone likes Caption of Strength. Couple of you can bring some Baileys (supermarket brand of course) and someone else can bring the sweets. Let me know when's a good time
Tuesday, 24 November 2009
Thursday, 12 November 2009
Turmoil!
Been up Richmond, haven't I. The one in Surrey. What a one horse town! I mean, don't get me wrong, if its culture you're after then you're laughing all the way to the - er - programme seller but otherwise what a load of old shit. Anyway it was the scene of a dilema, o brothers.
Had five minutes between Snappy Snaps and Robert Dyas. And had to choose between getting strawberries for the kids (from Waitrose) or a fag by the car park. Oh it was agony! Which one was it to be? I was torn in half, o my brothers, quite literally torn in half.
It was like one of those On the Road films with Bob Hope and Bing Crosby where a little old lady with a harp is on one of Bob Hopes' shoulder and a devil is on the other. And he can't decide what to do! The old lady sternly told me I cannot fob off the kids with a chocolate cookie for dessert again, it was time for fresh fruit! Meanwhile old Nick was tellin me the joys of inhaling that smoke by the A316. I was broken, brothers, just broken.
I like to think I eventually made the fair and right decision. And anyway Waitrose fruit is a complete rip-off.
Had to really smoke a lot this morning. It was Victorian day for year 6 and Son was going as a chimney sweep and was desperate for ash to put on his face. Well, I was happy to oblige. I told you smoking is good for you!
Had five minutes between Snappy Snaps and Robert Dyas. And had to choose between getting strawberries for the kids (from Waitrose) or a fag by the car park. Oh it was agony! Which one was it to be? I was torn in half, o my brothers, quite literally torn in half.
It was like one of those On the Road films with Bob Hope and Bing Crosby where a little old lady with a harp is on one of Bob Hopes' shoulder and a devil is on the other. And he can't decide what to do! The old lady sternly told me I cannot fob off the kids with a chocolate cookie for dessert again, it was time for fresh fruit! Meanwhile old Nick was tellin me the joys of inhaling that smoke by the A316. I was broken, brothers, just broken.
I like to think I eventually made the fair and right decision. And anyway Waitrose fruit is a complete rip-off.
Had to really smoke a lot this morning. It was Victorian day for year 6 and Son was going as a chimney sweep and was desperate for ash to put on his face. Well, I was happy to oblige. I told you smoking is good for you!
Thursday, 5 November 2009
Eye of the Tiger !
A quick burst on here today, brothers, between fags. Because its that time of year again, isn't it. At least for Son anyway. Its the frackin' bloody 11+ exam. The one where millions of kids try to all get in one school.
Daughter went through this shit and didn't get in. In fact, she bombed it. And yes, loads and loads of heartbreak followed. In fact, it was that that got me blogging and everything. I needed to tell people. But thats all behind us now and she goes to a super girls school down the road and that. So when Son came up for secondary school, we did not want to go through all that shit again and planned to put him down for the comprehensive where all his mates are going. I mean they have sport and maths and shit, don't they? I wanted an easier ride this time.
But oh no, Son wanted to try and get into that bloody school, didn't he. That unobtainable building six miles away. And Stupid here listened to all the advice - it would be a lot crueller if you didn't let him take it, you shouldn't deny him the experience - I should have said Bollocks but didn't. Got on the phone to Daughter's old tutor and it all went from there.
But even then, it seemed safely far away. But not now! Early December in fact. Oh Bloody hell! He won't get in! Unless they have a special exam for kids who do no bloody work - he will never do it. And I'm gonna go through this heartbreak again!
And it does matter, you know. You can tell yourself what you bloody well like - it does matter!
As Liza Minnelli once said about the Oscars - when they're opening that golden envelope, it matters!
Have ordered a hundred fags from Fatso to be collected on that date. That woke the old git up I tell you! And have booked a triple cappaccino from the nearest outlet.
This is a vital time. Why won't he do any work? Why can't it be like Rocky 2 where the wife in hospital tells Rocky she wants him to win? And he goes out training in Philledelphia and all these kids follow him up the stairs and that? Why can't that happen with Son? (Bloody good film that!)
Well thats it. Time for my fag - and my hands are throbbing..
Daughter went through this shit and didn't get in. In fact, she bombed it. And yes, loads and loads of heartbreak followed. In fact, it was that that got me blogging and everything. I needed to tell people. But thats all behind us now and she goes to a super girls school down the road and that. So when Son came up for secondary school, we did not want to go through all that shit again and planned to put him down for the comprehensive where all his mates are going. I mean they have sport and maths and shit, don't they? I wanted an easier ride this time.
But oh no, Son wanted to try and get into that bloody school, didn't he. That unobtainable building six miles away. And Stupid here listened to all the advice - it would be a lot crueller if you didn't let him take it, you shouldn't deny him the experience - I should have said Bollocks but didn't. Got on the phone to Daughter's old tutor and it all went from there.
But even then, it seemed safely far away. But not now! Early December in fact. Oh Bloody hell! He won't get in! Unless they have a special exam for kids who do no bloody work - he will never do it. And I'm gonna go through this heartbreak again!
And it does matter, you know. You can tell yourself what you bloody well like - it does matter!
As Liza Minnelli once said about the Oscars - when they're opening that golden envelope, it matters!
Have ordered a hundred fags from Fatso to be collected on that date. That woke the old git up I tell you! And have booked a triple cappaccino from the nearest outlet.
This is a vital time. Why won't he do any work? Why can't it be like Rocky 2 where the wife in hospital tells Rocky she wants him to win? And he goes out training in Philledelphia and all these kids follow him up the stairs and that? Why can't that happen with Son? (Bloody good film that!)
Well thats it. Time for my fag - and my hands are throbbing..
Sunday, 1 November 2009
Cutting Edge!
Applause!
Welcome to our alternative poetry readings. live from the Avant Garde Club.
Now I know you've all come tonight to hear Fatso's new anthology "No Superkings, sorry" - (perhaps his most brutal work of all) but let me introduce our newest and freshest warm-up poet - Jenny Smith
(polite applause amid murmers "but I wanted to see Fatso!" and "I hope he doesn't fall asleep this time!")
JS clears throat:
"This is my most radical piece to date:
Half-term! What a load of shit that is!
Its not even christmas. Or Easter.
And the kids get on your tits
And they hog the laptop all the time
if you're not driving 'em to sleepovers that is!
And don't get me started on Halloween...!
(Sounds of "boos" start to erupt dangerously amid murmers of "doesnt' even rhyme" and
"where's the irony? thats what I want to know...")
Look! Its a work in progress, okay?
When the hell is it Monday?
When I can get rid of the bloody lot of them
Daughter says she's got a sore throat
well, I tell you, she's bloody going.......
Ow! No, stop it! Hey! Thats not very ladylike!
(tomatos and paper cups are being thrown now)
"Fatso! Fatso! Bring on Fatso! Get off, you talentless waste of space!
AND you're not allowed to smoke in here!"
Well, sod it then. Did Philip Larkin ever have this trouble, I wonder.
Welcome to our alternative poetry readings. live from the Avant Garde Club.
Now I know you've all come tonight to hear Fatso's new anthology "No Superkings, sorry" - (perhaps his most brutal work of all) but let me introduce our newest and freshest warm-up poet - Jenny Smith
(polite applause amid murmers "but I wanted to see Fatso!" and "I hope he doesn't fall asleep this time!")
JS clears throat:
"This is my most radical piece to date:
Half-term! What a load of shit that is!
Its not even christmas. Or Easter.
And the kids get on your tits
And they hog the laptop all the time
if you're not driving 'em to sleepovers that is!
And don't get me started on Halloween...!
(Sounds of "boos" start to erupt dangerously amid murmers of "doesnt' even rhyme" and
"where's the irony? thats what I want to know...")
Look! Its a work in progress, okay?
When the hell is it Monday?
When I can get rid of the bloody lot of them
Daughter says she's got a sore throat
well, I tell you, she's bloody going.......
Ow! No, stop it! Hey! Thats not very ladylike!
(tomatos and paper cups are being thrown now)
"Fatso! Fatso! Bring on Fatso! Get off, you talentless waste of space!
AND you're not allowed to smoke in here!"
Well, sod it then. Did Philip Larkin ever have this trouble, I wonder.
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