Sunshiney Day

Today was another gorgeous day so I spent most of my time in the garden.

“Pot Head” is sporting a shorter ‘do’ this year!
Some sort of Cress.
I’m going to try him with some of that curly lettuce and see if I can get an Afro going.
The Radishes are popping through, as are the tomato seeds planted to replace the crop the fucking slugs decimated.
Bastards.

I'm really pleased with how the Fig is coming along, especially as 2 years ago it was a dead stick!

Kenneth, ungrateful feline number one, spent his time 'stalking' me.

My Mate

Today is Bestest Mate Crisp-e’s birthday!
Check him… Check him!

I love this bloke like family.
In fact, he is my family..
We have laughed and laughed, drunk Vodka and laughed at ruptured ’Weightlifter’ arseholes on line!
And laughed a bit more.
Probably not his ideal birthday but at least alcohol was involved!

Crisp-e, Dred, I love you mate!

Rainy Monday

Today has been absolutely shitty.
It has pissed with rain for hours and hours and I got soaked going out for milk.
Then a friend, whose wedding I missed through illness came round.
She not only came round, she came out!
She’s left the husband and has a girlfriend.
Colour me surprised!
I found it all very weird because back when she was ‘straight’, I kind of fancied her.
We’re going out for a drink on Friday, to one of the three Gay places that this city full of sailors boasts.
A place I haven’t been in for years because I always end up in some sort of ‘trouble’ if I do.
I CAN control myself; I CAN control myself…….

I went and saw my Dad yesterday for a ‘seedling’ exchange.
Except I had fuck all to exchange as the fucking slugs have munched through everything and I’ve had to start again.
His Urban Estate is well underway and this year he has planted his beans in amongst the Step-Mum’s flowers.
(He has a spot for the onions this year!)
“I want ‘er fuckin’ bees don’t I!” he cheerfully told me, with only his bottom set of teeth in.
We had to reach a compromise about the knashers.
I can’t cope with seeing him without any in and they hurt him if he wears them.
The compromise is he wears half of them.
It doesn’t really satisfy either of us but at least this way I can look at him while we talk.
He came out with a classic as he was telling one of his stories about him and his brothers.
“I KNOW it happened on a Thursday because we had run out of toilet roll”
I looked at Joon with that, ‘What The Fuck? Face’, and we totally cracked up!

I tried to say Facebook and Twitter at the same time and it came out as ‘Twatter’, I think I will be sticking with that from now on.

Food, Books And Telly

Today Sassy and I took advantage of the ‘Pensioners Perks’ offer at the local *French place, The Kitch ‘n D’or.
A two course lunch for a fiver!
I had baked goat’s cheese with honey to start and a pasta dish.
If we had just stuck to that and drunk the free water it would have been £5.
Two Gins and Tonic, a couple of glasses of wine, a Port, a Brandy and a brace of coffees got the bill up to £29; which is still pretty reasonable.

I got my first ever delivery from www.bookdepository.co.uk today.
It turned up when they said, there were no delivery charges and the book was cheaper than Amazon.
Result.
Good tip Schnee.
This is what I am half way through.
I haven’t learnt anything new but she does pull all the research together and it’s easy to read.

Right, adverts.
Why do people who make their own sauces, that penis Loyd Grossman for example, get the shit out of a jar when they are advertising it?
Surely, if it is their ‘very own recipe’, they’d get it out of a pan bubbling away on their fucking cooker!

The last ever Boston Legal was shown tonight and it was blinding.
Brought a tear to my eye so it did.
Denny and Alan have become part of the family!
I’m really going to miss them.

*It’s owned by an Englishman and the chef is Chinese.
It would seem that having pictures of the Dordogne and signs in Froggish makes it ‘French’.

The Quest

Something as simple as buying Cannelloni tubes turned into a fecking mission today and its official; there is NO Cannelloni in Southsea.
Along The Rue Albert I visited the Co op, Kwiki Mart, Tesco, The Deli, and Somerfield.
Nothing.
I even went in the Health Food shop in the hope that hemp wearing, Vegan Coeliacs eat Cannelloni.
They don’t.
As I was traipsing back I got pissed off with myself for not just going straight to Waitrose in the first place.
Waitrose always have fucking everything.
I collected Sassy on the way.
Not today they didn’t and I was traumatized by the experience.
Waitrose? Not having what I want? Unheard of.
That’s when it turned into a quest.
Too much time had been invested to just give up now.
We then tried Akram’s, the place for all things Halal, Asian and ‘bulk’,
Holland and Barrett, the Italian restaurant, Tesco Express, another Akram like place and another Co op.
Nothing.
Still I would not be defeated.
I cooked sheets of Lasagne until they were soft enough to roll and used those.
It worked well enough but they were just slightly too thick.

I suppose I should mention something about Saint George.
He is patron of this fucked up country, people who play Dungeons and Dragons and ‘Burger’ Van employees.
No one is sure if he came here though.
Who cares?
I like to think that as a Turk, he brought the first kebab to these shores and the ‘suspect’ meat was Dragon.
Not sure why he IS a Saint either but who gives a fuck?
St Patrick was Welsh.
We should get a Bank Holiday for him anyway just because The Reformation robbed us of loads of days off.

“Cry ‘G-d for Harry, England and Saint George’”

My Earth Day

I had some very good reasons for spending the day in the garden today.
1. It is Earth Day.
2. It has been fecking gorgeous, 23 Celsius at one point.
3. Shit needed doing.
4. I wanted to avoid anything to do with the Budget. Although, I wouldn’t mind knowing why Milo O’ Shea was involved.
The Edible Estate is starting to come along.
The Aubergines, Tomato, Gourd and Butternut Squash seedlings have been hardened off and are planted out.
The Courgettes, Radishes, Red Scallions, Salad Leaves and all the herbs are sown.
For those of you who have a compost bin I would suggest throwing a load of parsley seeds around the base of it.
The soil there is so good and you can just forget about them.
This lot was scattered last year.

I swear to Christ my Dad is some kind of fucking sick prick!
We have been waiting on news of his latest Cancer biopsy for a couple of weeks.
Remember he had bits chopped out of his mouth a month or so ago?
This evening he phoned and it went like this;

Dad… “‘Ello lover. Well, it’s good news and bad news. The doctor told me to get the bad news out of the way first.”
My stomach shimmied and churned. The far back of my throat went so dry swallowing almost made me retch.
I went and got the vodka.
Me… “What? Just tell me Dad, what did they say?”
Dad… “The bad news is I’ve probably got about 40 years left!”
Silence.
Me… “You’re some kind of cunt aren’t you?! You just took ten years off MY fucking life you knob!”
Then the maniacal laughing started.
Both of us!
Me… “Did you get the others?”
Dad .. “Yeah! Hahahaha! Every single one of you!”
Me… “You’re a sick fucker! Nice one though! Who hung up on you?”
Dad.. “Your sisters! Hahaha! I told Joon you’d be the only one who’d laugh!”
Me… “Dad, that is not a comfort to me!”
Dad.. “Hahahaha! I love talking to you. I fuckin’ love you mate.
Me… “I love you too old man”.

Complete twat!
I absolutely love the man to bits and it’s always nice to know where the ‘Sick Bastard’ gene comes from.
The good news was that there were no Cancerous cells in this biopsy.
Just the Stomach and Oesophageal cancer that is killing him now.
He doesn’t seem to mind, he’d been on the booze since three this afternoon.

Dykea Day

Dykea in Southampton is very different to the Dykea in Croydon.
There is a distinct lack of Dykes for one thing.
Perhaps the one at Croydon is situated along a Lesbian Ley Line.
One that passes through Brighton, Amsterdam and Lesbos on its way to New England.
In Croydon there is one behind every ‘Billy’ and ‘Dislekksyk’ bookshelf.
This one is mainly old posh people up from The New Forest.
Old people who follow the arrows like they are directions from Christ Almighty.
Watching them squinting at the labels and then trying to pronounce a name that looks like a blogger word verification is entertaining.
Secondly, by Ikea standards it was empty.
I didn’t get ragey or want to push anyone once, which is bordering on the miraculous.
I set the timers to go off at five minute intervals, bought a cast iron skillet I don’t need but really fucking wanted and have enough tealights to start my own religion.
I’ve stuffed my face with mini Dime bars like an escapee from fat camp and feel a bit disgusted with myself actually.
I’ll work them off in the garden tomorrow.
I’m going to plant out the Radishes, Tomatoes, Aubergines/Halflange, and the Gourds.

B&Q was pretty painless too but I need to know how much 125 litres of multi purpose compost weighs.
I carried two bags of it about 20 metres and I’m now convinced something that used to be fully internal isn’t quite anymore.
Something ‘groinal’ popped.

Stan’s rant on Shameless tonight was nothing short of Shakespearean!

Lunch!

Swedish Meatballs.
It would have been churlish not to!

Like The Deserts Miss The Rain

I’ve felt pretty miserable today.
I have a crick in my neck that Diazepam aren’t touching and it is the anniversary of my Grandmother’s death.
She has been gone twenty six years.
I can honestly say that there hasn’t been a single day when I haven’t thought about her or missed her.
I’ve never forgotten the look on my uncle’s face when I opened the door to him.
Being sent to my room and hearing the unnatural screaming when he told Mum the news.
I’ve never forgotten that ATM wouldn’t let me go to the funeral or even have the day off school as my sister did.
Or that when I cried with the grief I was whacked repeatedly as she screamed, “You’ve only lost a Grandmother, I’ve lost a Mother!”
Anyone brought up by and with their Grandparents will understand just how devastating that sentence is.
She broke something between us that day and I never felt the same about her ever again.
Thirteen years old and I knew my Mother was a monster.

I’m going to cheer myself up by going to Ikea tomorrow. I don't really want to buy anything but I will be robbing a couple of their big yellow shopping bags.
Got idea for their use in the garden.

This was my Nan’s song and makes me think of her every time I hear it, no matter the version.

Visiting And Vibing

Ex Housemate Mikey is home for a few days!
It’s brilliant having him in the house again; although he is in the ‘guest’ room and is just visiting; it feels like a family again.
He needs a job though.
The Credit crunch has drained all money away from PhD funding.
He’s finding it impossible to get on a PGCE course, even with a Science degree and Msc.
Any (sensible) ideas welcome.
To complete the rest of the family group, I have been round to Mr & Mrs Crisp-e’s for the traditional ‘end of holiday, back to school dinner’.
That man can do things to lamb that are just plain unnatural and I don’t mean in the Welsh way.
The men of Greece wouldn’t do ‘that’ to a sheep. Why ruin a good business plan?
I would also like to draw attention to the fact that their cat is a fucking vicious bitch.
“Ooooh! No, she’s lovely. She wouldn’t hurt you.”
Um… No.. She’s fucking not and Yes, she fucking would.
Mrs Crisp-e needed a plaster after playing with her.
We have drunk much wine and Jagermeister.
Jagermeister in the form of a kind of Jagerbomb except we mixed it with the Red Bull rather than depth charging it.
After all, we are not savages!

I don’t watch any of those “Reality” shows at all.
They make me feel uncomfortable and I'm not sure why.
For someone who has absolutely NO embarrassment filter for herself, I have a highly honed one for others.
Weird.
I only looked at this because her name is everywhere at the moment and I swear to Christ it choked me up.
It made the hairs stand up on me.
She reminds me of the Jane Horrocks character in 'Little Voice'.

Dublin And The Nipper

Dublin was, as ever, epic!
It’s taken me a couple of days to get my shit back together.
Thank you to all the cousins for making everything just so fecking brilliant.

Check out this photo..

This is Naoise (Nee-sha) and me.
Those of you who know me well, know I DO NOT do children.
Ironically, I’m ‘Catnip’ to children this size for some reason.
In the same way that cats always go to the people who hate cats!
Not long after this photo was taken, she had me under the table inspecting the shoes of all those assembled.

She's a little Cracker. One of those kids who has got a bit of spirit but isn't badly behaved.

(Schnee's Grandkids are the same)

A credit to her parents and she made my trip.

Thankfully, of all the things she heard me say that day, the only one that stuck with her was, “Come on big boy!”
Phew!

A Bit Of Passion

The Celebration of The Lord’s Passion quickly descended in to farce when the microphone, that’s been on the blink for over a year, finally died.
Only half the congregation had all the words to what was happening in their booklets.
One of the three people reading the Gospel kept forgetting her bit.
Kids were running wild.
Father P, started to lose it and his head got very red.
By the time he had run round the outside of the Church with a Cross, in the pissing rain, to process down the aisle, I couldn’t tell his head from his dress.
Due to the many different cultural Catholic traditions no one was sat down, stood up or kneeling at the same time.
It was brilliantly chaotic.
I gave giving the Cross a kiss a huge body swerve, way to many sinners ahead of me with obvious skin conditions.
There was an entire family group with ‘something’ around their mouths.
Not for me thanks.

Then came ‘The Old Rugged Cross’.
WTF!?
To me, that’s a pissed up pub song NOT something you actually sing in Church.
Having never in my life sung this song ‘properly’, I let them have it out and proud, in the style of a Cockney Pearly King!
It went down well with the kids around me, but not so much with everyone else.
I was wrecked and I’m impervious to outraged Catholic stares.

Just a general observation; any man who wears a ring on his forefinger deserves a good kicking.
Seriously.
It may seem extreme but it really fucking bothers me!

Dublin, brace yourself. I arrive tomorrow night.
I will be bashing the granny out of you until Tuesday.
I’ll be bringing my own cigarettes and wine.
Fuck your prices!

Station!

My day in one photo. Your Turn!

As Passover started this evening I went and did The Stations of The Cross this afternoon, stoned out of my tiny mind!
The lady who ALWAYS asks if I’m new to the Parish asked me if, I was new to the Parish.
‘No. I’ve had a haircut.’ I replied.
This seem to satisfy and confuse her all in one go, as she tried to imagine me with longer hair and still not know who I was.
You have to wonder how wise it is to have someone with obvious dementia in charge of welcoming newcomers.
The Nun leading it had English as a second language; there was a war going on between those who prefer Thy and Thou and those sticking to You and Your, and an Indian family whose children had all had some kind of Tartrazine infusion before they came.
To much horror and my utter amusement, one of the boys managed to strip a statue of its purple sheet and clothe himself in it.
Cracking!

It's not until I see Annie, I remember how fecking gorgeous she was and still is!

NO! Fuck off! Stop ‘helping’ us!

The Call

The ‘phone call with Dad..

Me… Hi Joon, is he there?
Dad.. ‘ello Lover!
Me… What’s it going to be then? Great Grandpapa or something totally new?!
Dad.. Fuck right off! She ‘phoned me yesterday. Two fuckin’ hours.
Seven months? Nothing! Fuck all! Two hours!.. Yer Mother went fuckin’ apeshit apparently, told her to get it in a bucket!
Me… Hahaha! I bet she did, her Mother told her to get me in a bucket if you remember! What do you think?
Dad.. Got fuck all to do with me has it love? I am glad it’s not Loz though, am I a cunt for saying that? Fuck it! I don’t care. I’m going to say something else ‘orrible as well; she not that far along and sometimes they don’t take. Wouldn’t be a disaster if she lost it.”

It kind of IS and kind of ISN’T the reaction I was expecting from The Angry One!

I like the wording of this!
“…the perfidious belief that any baby needs to be cleansed by baptism…”

Chav McPikey

Today I had a lovely lunch with Mrs Crisp-e.
Himself is somewhere in Austria on a school ski trip.
A trip he has arranged and is in charge of.
Nutter.
From text exchanges earlier in the week, I don’t think the Anschluss was this well planned!

Well people, it’s official, I’m from Pikey/Knacker stock.
News is trickling into Sleepy Mansions that my sister’s youngest is pregnant at fifteen.
My brother could be a 21 year old Great Uncle!
It doesn’t get more Gypo or Chav than that now does it?
I have laughed my arse off at the idea of ATM as a 57yr oldGreat Grandmother and my sister as a 38yr old Grandmother!
It’s repeated on me all day
Thank fuck I don’t have anything to do with these people.
I'm 'phoning my Dad tomorrow to see what the reaction is from Great Grandpapa at Vexation Villas.
Catch the wind the right way and you might just hear him yourselves!

Palm Sunday

The longest Mass of the year today and, Christ, it was interminable.
It started off in the garden area with Palm leaves.
I hate that.
I didn’t want a Palm leaf, I find them very distracting, but nobody would believe me.
One old dear got quite aggressive about it and told me I HAD to have one.
I told her I had hayfever and she fucked off, grumbling, and with a fair amount of suspicion in her eye.
Remembering the water throwing from last year, I stood well back.
I swear to G-d he took a run up and with an over arm bowling move flicked that big old pastry brush right at me.
Flinging myself back against the wall I totally ‘Matrixed’ it.
We are engaged in an unspoken war over the magic water but he hasn’t got me yet.
I’m considering carrying Alka Seltzer tablets in case he does get lucky one day.
Can you imagine the look on his face when I come up foaming?!

Eventually we processed back to the Church singing, ‘One Hymn To The Tune Of Another’, while everyone checked they had locked their cars.
Much lock clicking and light flashing.
That’s when the fun and games started.
It triggered something in the Altar huggers.
People turn up obscenely early so they get ‘their spot’ at the front.
These people were also the first out to the garden, so on the return they were at the back.
I felt the ripple of panic lurch forward as they realised ‘their spot’ was in jeopardy.
The blind lady and her dog picked up on it as well, so I got the other side of the hound and we formed a rolling block.
I think that’s when the pushing started!
We could hear the “Heys!”, “Watch It’s” and “Easy’s” sweeping forward but stopping short behind us.
It seems even the ‘faithful’ draw the line at pushing a blind woman, her dog and a surly queer with no palm leaf.

Is this the most Pro Porn photo in the world?
That’s the face you think of when you want to slow things down, as it were.
The woman is visual Bromide.
Imagine the words, ‘I’m horny’, coming from that mouth!
Jaysus!
I’ll be sticking with the six times table, that image flashing in to my mind could ruin me from the waist down.

I think this is something I’d like to see in the Premiership!

National Too

Of my National Nags, one came 2nd, one 11th, one pulled up and one fell over.
Not bad. I had four Fallers one year.
I did feel for the photographer trying to capture all the riders.
Who does he put at the back? The tall ones?

For some reason this bloke worries me.
He is known to be highly ambitious, leaked letters from senior UK Bishops reveal they feel him to be ‘Divisive’ and were ‘Uncomfortable with someone who is so clearly ambitious’.
Watch as he comes out as a Conservative, watch what gets cut as the Church has to tighten its belt, watch as we take a step closer to me being banned from Mass and with that, we step closer to me punching a priest in Church.
I have to admit I’m ever so slightly looking forward to that.
It’s an old hurt but it’s deep!

Shearer managing Newcastle?
In 8 games time there will be Geordies weeping like they’ve just found out there’s no Santa all over again.

National Nags

These are my choices for The Grand National.

Irish Invader... Obviously!
Rambling Minster... Owned by a lady Vicar. The Mansions has had a lady Vicar in it this week. A sign?
Comply Or Die... Double?

Also liking Can't Buy Time.

Somerfield, Schmidt And Songs

Some cheeky bitch in Somerfield threatened her kid with ME today.
A total stranger.
“Josh, Stop it or the lady will get angry!” pointing at me.
I looked at her and then at him and said,
“No I won’t mate. Go for your life!”
When I left she was still stuck in the aisle with the sweeties and Josh was screaming his, ‘needs a slap’, head off.
Fuck that!
If by some mad mix of DNA I’d had the misfortune to be born straight, I’d STILL be fecking childless.
I don’t like children; I consider them in the same way I do terrorists.
Immune to reason, illogical and could blow any minute.
A dirty bomb of Lego, snot, and in some cases, shit.
I’m an Aunt to 13, I’ve seen it happen.
Why would any sane person want to fill their home with that kind of madness?
That’s before they hit the minefield of the ‘teens’.
Not even the UN or Diana’s charities would go near that.
Horrific.

What goes on with Boston Legal?
Shirley Schmidt Shopping?
WTF!
While being deliciously alliterative, it’s just plain wrong.
I find it easier to picture HRH on the crapper!
Tonight’s episode, the Thanksgiving one?
That is a normal dinner party here at The Mansions!
Except no one vomited.
There is always at least one ‘hurler’ here.

Anyway, John the ipod and I have lurched between this and this.

Touched

We’ve been seeing a lot of Mrs Obama in the news and she, in return, has been touching our Queen.
Am I the only one who thinks there is something just a little amiss with her face?
Something slightly asymmetrical?
Like the opposite halves of two different heads.
As though one side is Dionne Warwick and other Diana Ross.
If not, those robbing bastard opticians are right and it’s time to have my eyes retested.
I always end up cancelling because I forget I have the appointment and have a smoke.
Fortunately my eyes never get bloodshot but it really freaks them out when my pupils react oddly.
Then I get the giggles and things rapidly descend in to farce.

I forgot to mention this earlier but we’ve had the best line so far in Shameless.
On the prospect of Mickey going to prison Mimi comes out with the blinder that he’d be,
“…passed from man to man like dysentery in a death camp..”
Superb!
I made my throat sore roaring at that one.

Rediscovered this tune today.

Holy shit! I know I shouldn’t laugh, but…

Spring Has Sprung

My hormones are informing me that it’s definitely Spring.
I walked past the end of my road while following an arse home today!
It was an absolutely perfectly formed ‘slappable’ arse as opposed to the rarer, ‘biteable’ arse.
Another sunny day had also brought out the Lesser and Greater Freckled Tits from their winter hibernation.
Vest tops being this Spring’s plumage.
Tesco was very distracting, with all the bending down and cold cabinets.
Parts of sentences like, ‘Smuggling peanuts’ and ‘Volvo wheel nuts’ were bounced around my head.
See what I mean?
The sap is rising and I’m at a dangerous age!

Something Pope related I approve of!

Today this was my, ‘Ha Ha Ha! Fucking Yeah!’ moment.
Check out the feet half way through.
As The Big little brother would say,
'Savage'.

Giants

When did Obama turn into THE most BORING economics teacher ever?
You’d hardly know he was here.
Check out the Obama’s meeting the Queen and Prince of Lilliput!
How fucking big are these people?!