After The Weekend

To say that I ‘bashed the granny’ out of this weekend would be a slight understatement.
It was positively caned!
Saturday the Usual Suspects were gathered to eat, booze and see Schnee and Kev while they visit from Canada.
My Big little brother, failing to learn from past lessons, tried to ‘medicine’ me.
Silly, silly lad!
After the sixth E the boy knew he was beaten!
Although, I was impressed with his capacity for Vodka.
It definitely runs in the family.

Sunday I had a lovely gentle day with Schnee and her family.
The Grandkids are an absolute delight and a joy to be around.
Gorgeous and well behaved.
Spot on.

I ended up watching Wimbledon today, specifically Andy Murray.
I’m not a great fan of tennis having been put off by ATM in my childhood.
When we got home from school during Wimbledon fortnight, the curtains would be drawn, ATM would be sat in front of the TV and there would be 70p on the shelf in the hall with the instruction, “Go to the chip shop”.
For a fortnight my sister and I lived off chips and curry sauce.
We would have killed for a Turkey Twizzler!
The up side was that it was a good time to get her to sign stuff you didn’t want read too closely, like report cards and detention permission slips!

Apparently it is going to be one of the hottest days of the year tomorrow, so I’m seeing a day in the garden in my future.

Tuesday June 24th

I was woken up in one of the worst possible ways this morning and after a piffling one hour and ten minutes of sleep.
Kenneth the gobshite, freeloading, fucker of a feline not only sneezed full in my fecking face but straight in my open mouth.

That’s when I debunked a theory.
Cats DO NOT always land on their feet, especially if they become reacquainted with the floor via partial ceiling and a wall.
After launching him I fled, open mouthed, to brush my teeth and gargle.
I haven’t been overly friendly to the little ponce today and he has stayed right out of my way.
Which was good because I had a bit of a ‘moment’ with some secateurs.
‘Lightly prune apple trees’ said my book of garden everything.
Well, all I can say is thank Christ I’m not a hairdresser!
The apple has had the tree equivalent of a bowl cut and I don’t think it’s happy.

I spent the whole day outdoors and am a little bit sunburned.
It wasn’t that hot at 8am but by midday it was Scorchio.
Unfortunately, by noon I was covered in all manner of creatures, dirt, compost and shite; any attempt at applying sunscreen would have resulted in a hideous Black and White Minstrel homage.
I’m sure the tops of my ears can actually be seen on Google Earth!
Housemate Claire caught it a little bit worse and is an attractive lobster/magenta colour.
She assures me she’ll be back to white tomorrow without any hint that her Melanin has been troubled.
While I, on the other hand, fully expect to breakfast with a walking blister.

A Smiley Day

This morning I didn’t mind being woken up!
Schnee and Kev were on my doorstep safe and sound from Canada.
Troops, gird your loins for the weekend.
We are partying.

Sassy and I ventured down to Waitrose, with a stop at WHSmith.
She is a terrible influence, on top of the 5 books that are in the queue to be read, I now have two more.
So, using that ‘secret gay serum’ that the Right Wing are convinced we all possess, I made her buy a toolbox!
More disturbingly, she is really happy with it.
I’ll have her discussing power tools in the most reverent tones before she knows it.

The Sleepy Mansions Urban Allotment is starting to serve its purpose.
I pulled some rhubarb, just enough for one, so Sassy has had that.
Then this evening, Mrs Next Door without the Kids leant over the wall holding out a bowl and asked for some Rocket Leaves.
Excellent!
Sassy also has three nice big flower beds that were doing nothing.
One is now home to three tomato plants and two more will house courgettes!

Check this out.
Elle magazine of all places.

On A Sunday

At 3 ‘o’ clock this morning TP and I were out and about on the seafront.
We were armed with a flask full of hot chocolate mixed with Baileys Irish Cream and some Cadbury’s chocolate fingers!
The reason was Sooper Steph and Hardcore Helen were doing a midnight walk.
The cause is close to my heart and it was booked out before I could get on it.
So this was my tiny contribution by way of support.


I’ve spent much of my day out in the garden.
But I also had an urge to put some good clobber on. Not spend the day as a total slob.
It’s Sunday after all.
So I’ve hand cut the grass in a Dior shirt with gold cufflinks, Old Navy jeans and Timberland boots.
As my Grandmother would say,
“We have standards Darling!”


I thought this might be of interest.
Somebody in Oslo got to my blog by typing “Fuck Gril UK deaf” into google.
My thought was, if you are looking for a deaf Girl does nationality really matter?
Then there is the person from Carol Stream, Illinois who got here by searching for “Spiders and Storms”.
It made me laugh because I can’t believe there is a place called Carol Stream.
Carol Stream is a lady your Mum works with!
Another that caught my eye is from some nonce at the National Engineering Services in Riyadh.
In a country that stones women for wearing the ‘wrong’ clothes some delightful son of Allah searched for “Give your Sester (sic) a Fuck”.
Nice to see Sharia law is on top of those little perversions!
They all end up at my post about Sassy’s cats! Which involves no porn, incest or deaf sex whatsoever.
As I have warned before, any searches for kiddie porn goes straight to a police website; so search on ‘Gril Fuckers’!


I have cheered myself hoarse for Spain, as I did for Russia yesterday.
Germany versus Turkey on Wednesday.

Come on the Turks!
Even Crisp-e can’t bring himself to support the Hun.




Check out the Hungarian Black Chilli!
It's doing its thang!

Miffed

I had so much I wanted to say.
Much bitchiness to get off my chest.
But this just tops everything.
I live with slovenly sluts.
Yes. I wrote the note and No, I'm not ashamed.

A Trip With The Doctor

I accompanied Sassy deep into Bandit Country as we ventured to Currys.
(Bandit Country is the area of this town I’m most likely to bump into ex pupils or family.)
We were greeted by a bewildering array of televisions and I was really glad I didn’t have to choose.
The moment of pure gold came after the choosing.
At the checkout.
Personal information is entered on the till which then prints all the guarantee bollocks.
“Miss, Ms or Mrs?” asked the granddaughter of Midas.
“It’s Dr.” replied the Sassy One.
I couldn’t stop the grin or try and hide it, especially since I could see the screen and that option was fecking offered!
As we stood waiting Sassy looked at me and said
“I shouldn’t have done that.”
“Yes you fucking should! You worked hard for that! And, a bloke would have”.

The fun and games began when we unpacked it.
The lead for the mains power was one of those two pronged affairs that works in Singapore and the US but is as useful as tits on a Nun here.
Sassy ‘phoned Currys and was told to bring it back, which she did and was furnished with a good old English three pronged plug.
There were still problems.
No connection with the satellite signal.
The Sky people were contacted and informed us a scart lead was needed.
This was not provided.
Housemate Claire to the rescue with her box of leads and stuff!
Still no joy.
Sassy’s not a happy camper and in her considered, doctorial opinion Currys are cunts.
You can’t argue with an education like that!

Last episode of Boston Legal tonight.
Am bereft until next year.
Road Trip anyone?

Train From Wiltshire

The trip home from Wiltshire was hideous.
Instant frigging Karma.
Bibles may offer an ideal emergency Rizla but there are repercussions.
As always, three coaches for about 400 people.
I had chosen this particular train because there were no changes and it was only an hour and nine minutes, not too long to stand.

I managed to squeeze into a seat opposite a strange, spotty boy reading Derren Brown, ‘Tricks of the Mind’ and a rotund bearded man who stared at me a lot.
Maybe the boy had been working his ‘magic’ but I was glad when they both got off.
My ticket was checked and I was told I was going to have to get off 3 stops from home and get a bus.
Adding another smoke free hour to my trip.
Fucking great!

G-d knows I hate the Loser Cruiser with a passion so I’m sure s/he chose this as my ironic slap on the legs.
Then I thought, ‘TP passes the station on the way home from work’
Sleepy you fecking genius!
A text was launched in to the ether.
G-d was way ahead of me.
Tuesday = Day Off for TP!

As I sat fuming and convincing myself that a shout of “Flame On!” would probably work and I could fly home, a particularly attractive lady got on and sat opposite me. She perked me up a bit.
TP, being a fecking trooper text back and offered a lift anyway.
That’s when the lady opposite found out about the bus and went into a “I’m going to be late for work” panic.
So, before G-d could put the kibosh on my plans I offered her a lift.
A good deed!
While waiting outside the station I met Loony Loocie The Nightmare Ex Neighbour.
(During her mental breakdown she told all the neighbours that I had attacked her and all sorts!)
She was still with us when the lift arrived.
I sighed at G-d and thought, “Ok, Ok. I get it” and offered her a lift home too.

Train To Wiltshire

I’m in Wiltshire for a couple of days which meant that I had to catch the Cardiff train.
I’ve bitched about this train before, really busy service so they only put three coaches.
As you all know I’m not actually the most social of people, especially with ‘the public’.
I’ve discovered a great way of keeping other passengers away from me and more importantly, from talking to me.

I took the cover of a Gideon bible I liberated from a hotel
(The pages are brilliant in case of dire Rizla emergencies. I’ve smoked the whole of St Paul. Wanker. But I digress) and put it over the book I’m reading!
Not a Fecker would sit anywhere near me, even the couple who had actually booked the seats looked and moved on!
It works even better than smiling manically and patting the seat next to you.

I’ll catch up in a few days.

June Eleventh

The fucking window cleaners woke me up yet again!
The closed curtains must still be too subtle a hint.
I asked how much.
“A fiver babe”
‘What? It was four quid last time’
“Yeah, it’s gone up. I told you last time”
‘No you fucking didn’t. Last time you were bullshitting me that you ran a monthly service when I hadn’t seen you for 3!’
He tried to stare me out.
Can you believe it?
Fool.
I had been awake under two minutes, didn’t have my specs on and used to have ‘Staring’ competitions with the sister when we were grounded.
He looked away first.
‘So, it’s 4 quid this time and five when I see you in three months’.
“It’s a monthly service” he insisted.
I shook my head and said,
‘Let’s not get started on that one again’.
I made sure I gave him a 5 pound note AND waited for the change.
Knob.

I haven’t spoken to my sister in nearly six years over the theft of £5000
Check out Prince Jefri!
Are you really ‘on the run’ if you have £3 billion? And just how pissed off is his brother?!
I’m bitter and twisted about five grand but would never take it near a court.
Just cut them out of my life.
I have learned from it though, never again will I fall out with someone over money.
The loss of money is nothing.

I surfed in to this last night and as an experiment put all the sweeties I wanted in the basket.
Over £65!
I don’t fecking think so.

June Tenth

Check it out!
One of the MANY baby newts that are sharing my Bucket Pond with the tadpoles.
Annie the Frog has reappeared and I’m delighted.
She better start tucking herself into the fucking slugs pretty swiftish!
Apparently they don't like slithering over crushed shell.
I'm going to crush up the shells of the snails I've dispatched and use them.
I thought they also might serve as a sinister warning to those still living and munching in the garden.
Bastards.

Spare a thought for the Sassy one.
While on a trip to our nation’s capital, some fucker stole her bag.
Fortunately it was her overnight bag; they got away with her ipod, sunglasses and from her description some underwear that was so rank in nature it had no business travelling home anyway!
Even on Network South!
Although, I do have an image in my head of an overweight, hirsute, Eastern European bloke, prancing around in front of a mirror in Sassy’s “Little bit of ‘lastic and her little bit of lace”!

Today I discovered if you put my name in to a Facebook search it becomes immediately apparent that I am totally the wrong colour for my name.
I have Race Dysphoria! I'm trapped in the wrong skin tone!

Questions

Where have all the Proper Pikey’s gone?
Not those who want to tarmac your drive or buy any ‘scrap’ gold you may have.
(Scrap gold? Whoever heard of such a thing?)
I mean the ones who used to knock the door and ask if you needed knives or scissors sharpening. I had to teach myself how to get an edge on garden shears from the interwebs.
Most dangerous it was.

Many, many things are sprouting in the Sleepy Mansions Urban Allotment.
Self seeded tomato plants are springing up all over the place.
I leave them until they are about 5 inches tall then stick them in a pot.
It feels wrong just to uck ‘em out when they have fought so hard to survive.
There is also an element of Darwinism in their selection.
A wide variety of toms have been eaten by this house, and composted, so I’m hoping for a bit of variety in the seedlings.
If you visit, expect to leave with one.

The best exchange of the day happened to the Tame Pharmacist.
A customer came in with a walking stick and a limp.
TP enquired as to the problem and was told that although the foot was injured, the problem was dental.
A joke was made along the lines of, ‘Oh, the top and the bottom’,
To which the customer replied,
“Yeah! Face, Feet and Fanny… They all go when you’re Fifty!”
Cracker!

Today my Grandmother would have celebrated her Eighty Ninth birthday.
She has been gone 25 years but I think about her nearly every day, especially when I am cooking.
I often wonder what our relationship as adults would have been like.
What would she have thought about my life?
Without a doubt she would have had an opinion!
I also think about all the questions I would love to have asked her.
Questions I wouldn’t have dared to ask as a child. Questions that I didn’t have back then.
If you had the chance to ask one question of a relative who has died,
Who would you ask and what would the question be?


Ex-Housemate Mikey got his Masters today!!
Whoo Hoo!
Phd next.
Well Done mate!

My Day, With Pictures.

Check it out!
I'm not sure it counts as a 'Crop' but I am claiming it as such.
The first crop of Sleepy Mansions radishes!.









Then there was this.
Which instantly made me think,


".... And what the fuck were you munching before you underwent the makeover?!..."






I love Foxgloves.
I collected the seeds from the Wiltshire countryside last year, threw them around while pissed one night; and Ta Da!
One grew.
Nestled right in with the Pear Tree!








Sassy came for tea and we tucked into the Madeira cake we couldn't manage yesterday.
Very, Very Yum!

Euro Birthday

Today is Sassy’s birthday!
This evening we have celebrated with what can only be described as, ‘Traditional English Birthday Tapas’.
The stuff of our youth. Check it out!
Shipham’s paste sandwiches, cheese and pineapple on sticks, jelly, blancmange, ice cream, Fairy cakes and all the trimmings.
Most importantly chocolate fingers!
Housemate Claire made a Madeira cake but we were all too bloated to attempt it.

Joy abounds at Sleepy Mansions.
My football void is filled, for a few weeks at least.
Euro 2008 started today.
I’m kind of relieved England didn’t qualify, there’s no stress; or any of the other home nations come to that.
It’s worse if a couple of them are in, all of a sudden people start claiming Scottish, Welsh, and Irish heritage out of the blue.
“But your surname is Singh?!”
‘Yeah. We’re the Dublin/Cardiff/Glasgow Singh’s innit? One of the Uncles emigrated from Slough.’
I have decided to follow the Czech Republic, Croatia and Poland.
The ‘Tractor Factory’ teams as Sassy calls them.
Although I did notice there were a disturbing number of ‘headbands’ on show in the Czech team.
A bit of a worry.

The Big little Brother came round last night.
We smoked, drank, philosophised, exchanged music and I took photos of him playing my guitar.
I took a shot of my Grandfather strumming on his guitar in 1988; I wanted to see if I could get an almost identical shot of his Grandson 20 years later.
I think I have almost got it.
I’ll scan the other one and frame them up together for him.

Grrrrr Day

My day started pretty grumpily.

Housemates, if you now find yourself reaching for sunglasses when you enter the bathroom, that’ll be because the suite is actually fucking white.
Surprise!
You see people, the yellow spray bottle labelled “Flash” isn’t a suggestion it’s a cleaning product.
Grrr.

After one of the Housemates hogged the washing machine ALL DAY yesterday, I stopped her at the top of the stairs today.
“Oi! No chance mate! You beat me to it twice yesterday, my turn.”
The ’black wash’, being the largest pile, went first.
As soon as I opened the door I saw the carnage that is “Kleenex” and it wasn’t mine.

Grrrr.

Then to tip me right over the fecking edge in to utter rage.
Was this.

I lift the washing up bowl to find this stinking under the wire fucking plate drainer thing!
What the fuck is that about?
Raw liver?
I swear on all that’s holy, if I find out that was pig product I will go fucking postal.
The whole kitchen has been bleached in to submission.

GRRRRRR!
And……. Rest…….

I got stoned and retired to the garden to fume; it seemed the only sensible thing to do.
Combining my recycling jag with the weed I came up with this.
Pot Head!

It comes with a lid for night time while seedlings are small.

I am looking in to all sorts of recycling ideas but this is fecking awesome.

The Weekend

Yesterday, Mr and Mrs Next Door Without the Kids, invited the inhabitants of Sleepy Mansions round for dinner.
Homemade Chinese food with a seafood theme.
(Prawns, Scallops, Fresh Sea Bass and Squid!)
I hate Chinese food and am allergic to seafood but a free dinner is a free dinner!
The thing is I LOVE scallops and squid.
I will eat them in the certain knowledge that within 2 hours I will be hurling them up.
It’s all over very quickly and the nausea is fleeting.
I also hope that eventually I will build up a resistance to them.
It was a splendid meal and a cracking night.

Today, Housemate Claire did the Race for Life.
I have never been more proud of a friend than I am today and got quite emotional about it.
Especially since the last lot of treatment wiped her out and the PICC line has been giving her a huge amount of discomfort.
During the week she mentioned that Rib of Beef was her favourite cut of meat, ever.
So I got some for today’s dinner as a treat. (Check it out! From a Proper butcher and everything!)
Oh My!
What an amazing tasting roast dinner we had.
Sassy joined us, with a wicked Cheesecake she had made and a cheeky Muscadet.
We scoffed, drank, grooved to tunes, delighted in the fact Schnee will be here for her birthday celebrations and laughed.
Laughed lots.

Check out the Slug Pub!
Works really well. They are loving Death By Budweiser!