Wednesday, 13 March 2013
Friday, 9 November 2012
Help Wanted
This is an appeal on behalf of MadameSG's cushions: Cruelly neglected, these soft victims of abuse have only days to live. Possibly hours. They are stained, ripped, clogged with dust, regularly found discarded onto the hard filthy floors and, when they do get selected for human interaction, farted on.
Just £3 a month could save these squares of comfort. If we could raise a significant sum of money MadameSG's tyrannical regime of arsiness could be tackled and, in time, erased completely.
Slowly fade to colour and perkier music...
For if enough ordinary kind people donated just £3 a month MadameSG could be persuaded to shift her lardy backside and pick the bloody things up and even change the covers.
We know flumping them daily is still a long way off but with small steps we can change the world.
Thank you for your generosity.
Together we can make the living room a comfier and less gravyfied place.
Just £3 a month could save these squares of comfort. If we could raise a significant sum of money MadameSG's tyrannical regime of arsiness could be tackled and, in time, erased completely.
Slowly fade to colour and perkier music...
For if enough ordinary kind people donated just £3 a month MadameSG could be persuaded to shift her lardy backside and pick the bloody things up and even change the covers.
We know flumping them daily is still a long way off but with small steps we can change the world.
Thank you for your generosity.
Together we can make the living room a comfier and less gravyfied place.
Tuesday, 26 June 2012
Woolly Libertines
Ok so can we take the bunting down now? And throw it in the gutters along with all the St George flags. Wot a load of bollox.
And where was the punk barge this year eh? Radio6Music have been doing their bit, and BBC4. Wheeling lots of the old spitters and safety-pinned ones out for a second airing. Some nice jumpers there tho'. First time around ones or did we whizz off to Kensington market (if indeed that still exists) to look good on telly? I don't care - still better than the old girl surrounded by stiffs in medals pointing at things. 'Oh look ma'am... common people.' Funny how Mr Queen suddenly had a bladder problem for that awful concert. I would have too. Meanwhile Siouxie Sioux plays lots of disco on the radio. Nice to knit to.
But no new punks then? Sadly lacking.
Us scruffy lot (or should I say SEHE - South East Home Educators for our full kennel name) were spreading ourselves about in Woodbury Park Cemetery Arts and Crafts Fair in Royal Tunbridge Wells last Saturday. Supposed to be just the one stall but we managed to commandeer several tables in the end with knitted things, baked things, sticky things, stolen things probably.... All pretty much on the cemetery theme. I had personally provided a smattering of very small colourful woolly bats, spiders, skulls, snakes and goth girls and dug out a few papier mache grotesques from my stash of previous creations. We also had knitty ghosties, crocheted flowers, gravestone cards and skull-stamped paper pads.... Make your own spiders webs were also available. Very available.... Not especially popular but certainly available. Trouble was, we only found out at fairly short notice that this was in fact a Jubilee Arts and Crafts Fair. Ooops. In true British style we soldiered on with our deathly theme, hoping we wouldn't be tried for treason by the end of the afternoon. In fact we made £75 which is now on it's way to Great Ormond Street Hospital. So there.
We were the punk barge!!
Knitting is the new punk!!
Oh it really is. I've been addicted to my two new knitting bibles - Knit the City and Yarn Bombing, both extolling the delights of knitti graffitti. Move over Banksy, you're too.... smooth. We love to feel up our graffitti these days. Check out the garter stitch on that lamp-post missus. We've been checking out likely spots around Tunbridge Wells to tag. (Oh yeah I even know the lingo..) If I ever do learn to download pictures I'll definitely post up my first woolly subversive message to society.) Gotta be dun.
Anyway wot else have we been up to?
The annual End of Seasons ice skating competition - managed to get a dress made, fitted and picked up just in time AND Madame Tin Hat blinged it for us from her mighty stock of Swarovskies. She's a blinging star that woman. MinxyBabes was still slightly jellified from the measlies but when her music started she really pulled it out of the bag. She was elegant, strong, beautiful and then plop - oh yes - bum skating again. Gosh darn it.... Was a bit wobbly from then on but did well to catch up with the music again... almost. Realising she didn't quite have time to get up from the knee spin for the finishing pose she flung her arms up dramatically still on one knee. Fabulous. The music stopped. She didn't. The crashing into the barriers into the end I thought was a show-stopper. Her friends watching from that end of the rink thought the clambering clawing fingers wiggling into view above the barrier a few seconds later was the clincher. Mass applause. Lots of stuff thrown onto the ice (including a floppy carnation saying 'Well done - Love Minx' - mah baaad). My baby's a star. SOOO wish I'd filmed it now. She wants to do the artisitic section too now - where you get to interpret music WITH words. I asked her coach if she had any good ideas for a routine with lots of sitting down. Minx didn't think it was very funny. But hey - she still staggered onto the podium for a third place trophy - not bad eh?
And then I get a text from Roving Blade - this year on duty for my favourite event of the year - the Fathers Day Football Club Family Fun Prizegiving Day in Forest Fucking Row. Oh how I love this day. Oh how I love that phrase Family Fun Day. Oh how I laughed when I realised that this was the SAME day as End of Seasons. I'm STILL laughing. For once he couldn't pull a swift one and wriggle out of it.... mwa ha ha ha haaaa - oh sorry back to the text: Chicken Boy has won Player of the Year!! OH yeah. And Little Rock Godling was beaming from sticky-out ear to sticky-out ear (new haircut) with his Well Done For Showing Up trophy that they all got. It's a trophy. It's HIS trophy. He has a new haircut and a trophy. And thanks to the new haircut we can see how happy his little face was.
Wot else....?
Minx and me both survived our birthdays. For her special day Minx got measles. I got blue nail varnish, a Mama Cass CD, a knitting book and chocolate biscuits. I won.
And I've taken to wearing scarves on my head to cover up my hair-don't. I'm sick of short hair cuts but longer hair looks crap on me so the obvious answer is to swathe my stoopid head in skull-patterned scarves. Mutton dressed as EMO. I can live with that.
We saw/sang alonga Oliver up big at the Electric Palace Cinema in 'Astings the other day, begging Nancy not to stay wiv that Bill Sykes we woz, and then we bombed dahn the beach wiv chips and cricket bats. Wind, rain - museum.... Kids thought the rain was preferrable. The musEEEEum??!! Ok back to the beach. Despite singing I'd Do Anything all afternoon, I didn't mean it. Headin' back down that way at the end of the week. Better not be museum weather again.... I'd get a cricket bat wrapped round me 'ead instead of a day-glo scarf.
Sadly some recent badness - stresses and traumas with troublesome members of our Home Ed group resulting in an expulsion!! Not nice at all that. But lines had been crossed. Nasty business. Funny how I've managed to squeeze weeks/months (years?) of time-sucking into a couple of sentences there. Best left.
More eye-liner. More skulls. More knitting.
Oh and apparently we're getting chickens.
Definitely more knitting..... And omelettes obviously. (Or goblets as they're known in this house. We also eat alot of sodages I'll have you know...) There'll be plenty of unusual language if we gets a cockerel. Maybe not so unusual. My language is deteriorating further.... But it's the only vice I have left. Let's have more swearing I say.
Plenty swearing required today. Oh bloody buggery bollocky bum. I did do go and see my mum. I didn't scream or hit noone. But it ain't fair and it ain't fun. Poetry innit? Fink I've earned myself some more knitty time. Strange how tying my fingers up in knots soothes my tangled mind.... Random phrase of the day: 'At least you're not like that awful Victoria Beckham. I can't STAND that woman.' Uh - huh.... Soon followed by finger-licking page-turning through the Radio Times... 'Wimbledon... or Jamie's 30-Minute Wonders?' 'Oh tennis or cooking. Please shoot me now.' My cheerful response was however drowned out by the goggle-box's leap into life. The kids started mouthing 'It's a bit loud!' at me. 'Would you like to watch a ghost story?' 'Oooh well we've really got to be going now...' 'Oh no have you? Ohhh Last of the Summer Wine...' 'Yes shoot me now. Now I said. In the head....' 'Oh Jeremy Kyle.. I can't STAND him!' 'Bye!!'
Get me my needle therapy!!!! Needle and the damage done or some such.... It's the only way out!!! Self yarning? Give me my fix!!!! Before I make any more heinous puns..... Help me........
Think I can predict a bladder infection for my next 'free' day. Some might call it taking the piss. If it's good enough for bloody royalty.... Otherwise I've got to grow up and we've discussed this. Not on the agenda. I'm not wearing shiny red boots with purple laces and a childish sneer for nothing you know. Crank up the 70's disco, slap on the green eye-glitter, I have a mission.
O come all ye clicker-clackers - rally round and poke yer pointy needle ends into the up-turned noses that surround us. The streets of Britian need you. Push me boat out mister I've got something to say! With my winding threads - be it cashmere, acrylic or plastic bags..... and my magic wands - of bamboo, slinky metal or old pencils. The bunting is dead. Long live the railing sock.....
.....Here come the hotstitcher (Muuurdera!!) Hexcuse me mister hofficer (Muuurdera!!)
And where was the punk barge this year eh? Radio6Music have been doing their bit, and BBC4. Wheeling lots of the old spitters and safety-pinned ones out for a second airing. Some nice jumpers there tho'. First time around ones or did we whizz off to Kensington market (if indeed that still exists) to look good on telly? I don't care - still better than the old girl surrounded by stiffs in medals pointing at things. 'Oh look ma'am... common people.' Funny how Mr Queen suddenly had a bladder problem for that awful concert. I would have too. Meanwhile Siouxie Sioux plays lots of disco on the radio. Nice to knit to.
But no new punks then? Sadly lacking.
Us scruffy lot (or should I say SEHE - South East Home Educators for our full kennel name) were spreading ourselves about in Woodbury Park Cemetery Arts and Crafts Fair in Royal Tunbridge Wells last Saturday. Supposed to be just the one stall but we managed to commandeer several tables in the end with knitted things, baked things, sticky things, stolen things probably.... All pretty much on the cemetery theme. I had personally provided a smattering of very small colourful woolly bats, spiders, skulls, snakes and goth girls and dug out a few papier mache grotesques from my stash of previous creations. We also had knitty ghosties, crocheted flowers, gravestone cards and skull-stamped paper pads.... Make your own spiders webs were also available. Very available.... Not especially popular but certainly available. Trouble was, we only found out at fairly short notice that this was in fact a Jubilee Arts and Crafts Fair. Ooops. In true British style we soldiered on with our deathly theme, hoping we wouldn't be tried for treason by the end of the afternoon. In fact we made £75 which is now on it's way to Great Ormond Street Hospital. So there.
We were the punk barge!!
Knitting is the new punk!!
Oh it really is. I've been addicted to my two new knitting bibles - Knit the City and Yarn Bombing, both extolling the delights of knitti graffitti. Move over Banksy, you're too.... smooth. We love to feel up our graffitti these days. Check out the garter stitch on that lamp-post missus. We've been checking out likely spots around Tunbridge Wells to tag. (Oh yeah I even know the lingo..) If I ever do learn to download pictures I'll definitely post up my first woolly subversive message to society.) Gotta be dun.
Anyway wot else have we been up to?
The annual End of Seasons ice skating competition - managed to get a dress made, fitted and picked up just in time AND Madame Tin Hat blinged it for us from her mighty stock of Swarovskies. She's a blinging star that woman. MinxyBabes was still slightly jellified from the measlies but when her music started she really pulled it out of the bag. She was elegant, strong, beautiful and then plop - oh yes - bum skating again. Gosh darn it.... Was a bit wobbly from then on but did well to catch up with the music again... almost. Realising she didn't quite have time to get up from the knee spin for the finishing pose she flung her arms up dramatically still on one knee. Fabulous. The music stopped. She didn't. The crashing into the barriers into the end I thought was a show-stopper. Her friends watching from that end of the rink thought the clambering clawing fingers wiggling into view above the barrier a few seconds later was the clincher. Mass applause. Lots of stuff thrown onto the ice (including a floppy carnation saying 'Well done - Love Minx' - mah baaad). My baby's a star. SOOO wish I'd filmed it now. She wants to do the artisitic section too now - where you get to interpret music WITH words. I asked her coach if she had any good ideas for a routine with lots of sitting down. Minx didn't think it was very funny. But hey - she still staggered onto the podium for a third place trophy - not bad eh?
And then I get a text from Roving Blade - this year on duty for my favourite event of the year - the Fathers Day Football Club Family Fun Prizegiving Day in Forest Fucking Row. Oh how I love this day. Oh how I love that phrase Family Fun Day. Oh how I laughed when I realised that this was the SAME day as End of Seasons. I'm STILL laughing. For once he couldn't pull a swift one and wriggle out of it.... mwa ha ha ha haaaa - oh sorry back to the text: Chicken Boy has won Player of the Year!! OH yeah. And Little Rock Godling was beaming from sticky-out ear to sticky-out ear (new haircut) with his Well Done For Showing Up trophy that they all got. It's a trophy. It's HIS trophy. He has a new haircut and a trophy. And thanks to the new haircut we can see how happy his little face was.
Wot else....?
Minx and me both survived our birthdays. For her special day Minx got measles. I got blue nail varnish, a Mama Cass CD, a knitting book and chocolate biscuits. I won.
And I've taken to wearing scarves on my head to cover up my hair-don't. I'm sick of short hair cuts but longer hair looks crap on me so the obvious answer is to swathe my stoopid head in skull-patterned scarves. Mutton dressed as EMO. I can live with that.
We saw/sang alonga Oliver up big at the Electric Palace Cinema in 'Astings the other day, begging Nancy not to stay wiv that Bill Sykes we woz, and then we bombed dahn the beach wiv chips and cricket bats. Wind, rain - museum.... Kids thought the rain was preferrable. The musEEEEum??!! Ok back to the beach. Despite singing I'd Do Anything all afternoon, I didn't mean it. Headin' back down that way at the end of the week. Better not be museum weather again.... I'd get a cricket bat wrapped round me 'ead instead of a day-glo scarf.
Sadly some recent badness - stresses and traumas with troublesome members of our Home Ed group resulting in an expulsion!! Not nice at all that. But lines had been crossed. Nasty business. Funny how I've managed to squeeze weeks/months (years?) of time-sucking into a couple of sentences there. Best left.
More eye-liner. More skulls. More knitting.
Oh and apparently we're getting chickens.
Definitely more knitting..... And omelettes obviously. (Or goblets as they're known in this house. We also eat alot of sodages I'll have you know...) There'll be plenty of unusual language if we gets a cockerel. Maybe not so unusual. My language is deteriorating further.... But it's the only vice I have left. Let's have more swearing I say.
Plenty swearing required today. Oh bloody buggery bollocky bum. I did do go and see my mum. I didn't scream or hit noone. But it ain't fair and it ain't fun. Poetry innit? Fink I've earned myself some more knitty time. Strange how tying my fingers up in knots soothes my tangled mind.... Random phrase of the day: 'At least you're not like that awful Victoria Beckham. I can't STAND that woman.' Uh - huh.... Soon followed by finger-licking page-turning through the Radio Times... 'Wimbledon... or Jamie's 30-Minute Wonders?' 'Oh tennis or cooking. Please shoot me now.' My cheerful response was however drowned out by the goggle-box's leap into life. The kids started mouthing 'It's a bit loud!' at me. 'Would you like to watch a ghost story?' 'Oooh well we've really got to be going now...' 'Oh no have you? Ohhh Last of the Summer Wine...' 'Yes shoot me now. Now I said. In the head....' 'Oh Jeremy Kyle.. I can't STAND him!' 'Bye!!'
Get me my needle therapy!!!! Needle and the damage done or some such.... It's the only way out!!! Self yarning? Give me my fix!!!! Before I make any more heinous puns..... Help me........
Think I can predict a bladder infection for my next 'free' day. Some might call it taking the piss. If it's good enough for bloody royalty.... Otherwise I've got to grow up and we've discussed this. Not on the agenda. I'm not wearing shiny red boots with purple laces and a childish sneer for nothing you know. Crank up the 70's disco, slap on the green eye-glitter, I have a mission.
O come all ye clicker-clackers - rally round and poke yer pointy needle ends into the up-turned noses that surround us. The streets of Britian need you. Push me boat out mister I've got something to say! With my winding threads - be it cashmere, acrylic or plastic bags..... and my magic wands - of bamboo, slinky metal or old pencils. The bunting is dead. Long live the railing sock.....
.....Here come the hotstitcher (Muuurdera!!) Hexcuse me mister hofficer (Muuurdera!!)
Thursday, 14 June 2012
WHAT'S THAT????
She's back.
The telly's ear-splitting but she still cannot STAND this woman, that presenter, these ridiculous comedians.... Nobody speaks properly. They say aks instead of ask and momentarily instead of in a moment and yous instead of you. Civilisation is collapsing. No standards at all. Even at full blast.
She's definitely back.
Apparently there's absolutely nothing on. Very loudly. Who'd've thought absolutely nothing could be so deafening?
But it's all been at a distance lately (although I can still hear THE NEWS from her house which is a whole HOUR away from my house.) We've been in quarantine for a month. The four children of the apocalypse decided to take turns to have measles. No we didn't have the MMR thank you so much for aksing. But we will now. And anything else going. Wheel that dessert trolleyful of drugs our way and we'll have the lot.
Meanwhile her next-door-neighbour died - but she still doesn't know if it was him or her. 'I didn't see The Living One.' They who must not be named. Just spotted the hearse outside. And turned the telly up a bit more. I SAID she TURNED the TELLY UP a bit MORE. No there's NOTHING smelly on the FLOOR.
'Could you see who it is?'
'Where?'
'You said there was someone at the door.'
'No I said..... never mind....'
'Oh that silly door. Don't know what's the matter with it.'
Yes she's back in town. The Enablement Team never started at 4 visits as first thought necessary. 'What's the point of the putting to bed visit when they just get out again after we've gone?' the nice lady smiled. Good point. Then they dropped the getting up visit as she was always dressed and waiting anyway. Show off. Then another one went. And as from Friday, they ain't a-comin' no more. But she's got her little bell round her neck. Well, that button thing if she starts mis-timing her beam dismounts. Big bruv sends Tesco's round once a week. The District Nurse comes and sucks blood in the comfort of the BOOMING pale green living room. Funny phrase that - Living Room. Probably a better place to enjoy your tea than the Gasping For Breath Room. The Physio still tips up and does her thang. Although she's gawn an' dropped her hand-squidgey exercisey putty down the side of the chair. That silly chair. And there's always the phone....
Apparently the volume button on that silly phone doesn't work properly. Up! UP!! Never look down in our world. Down is out. Up is all.
'I'll go in the other room....' pant shuffle bang clonk.... '...that's better. I can hear you now...'
'Wouldn't it have been easier to have turned the volume on the telly down?'
Pant click whirr.... '....well... oh that silly thing. Absolutely nothing on...'
Odd how my eyes automatically squint shut when I ring her. Strange scientific fact: if I screw up my face I am able to communicate more clearly. Stabbing something repeatedly also helps. In the Losing The Will To Survive Room.
Well we might be getting back to normal next week. (Yes I did have the audacity to say that.) Our threat to public health is over. And I shall be returning to the house of misbehaving volume controls very soon. I might stab them. Alot. It might not help them very much but I'd feel fucking great.
The telly's ear-splitting but she still cannot STAND this woman, that presenter, these ridiculous comedians.... Nobody speaks properly. They say aks instead of ask and momentarily instead of in a moment and yous instead of you. Civilisation is collapsing. No standards at all. Even at full blast.
She's definitely back.
Apparently there's absolutely nothing on. Very loudly. Who'd've thought absolutely nothing could be so deafening?
But it's all been at a distance lately (although I can still hear THE NEWS from her house which is a whole HOUR away from my house.) We've been in quarantine for a month. The four children of the apocalypse decided to take turns to have measles. No we didn't have the MMR thank you so much for aksing. But we will now. And anything else going. Wheel that dessert trolleyful of drugs our way and we'll have the lot.
Meanwhile her next-door-neighbour died - but she still doesn't know if it was him or her. 'I didn't see The Living One.' They who must not be named. Just spotted the hearse outside. And turned the telly up a bit more. I SAID she TURNED the TELLY UP a bit MORE. No there's NOTHING smelly on the FLOOR.
'Could you see who it is?'
'Where?'
'You said there was someone at the door.'
'No I said..... never mind....'
'Oh that silly door. Don't know what's the matter with it.'
Yes she's back in town. The Enablement Team never started at 4 visits as first thought necessary. 'What's the point of the putting to bed visit when they just get out again after we've gone?' the nice lady smiled. Good point. Then they dropped the getting up visit as she was always dressed and waiting anyway. Show off. Then another one went. And as from Friday, they ain't a-comin' no more. But she's got her little bell round her neck. Well, that button thing if she starts mis-timing her beam dismounts. Big bruv sends Tesco's round once a week. The District Nurse comes and sucks blood in the comfort of the BOOMING pale green living room. Funny phrase that - Living Room. Probably a better place to enjoy your tea than the Gasping For Breath Room. The Physio still tips up and does her thang. Although she's gawn an' dropped her hand-squidgey exercisey putty down the side of the chair. That silly chair. And there's always the phone....
Apparently the volume button on that silly phone doesn't work properly. Up! UP!! Never look down in our world. Down is out. Up is all.
'I'll go in the other room....' pant shuffle bang clonk.... '...that's better. I can hear you now...'
'Wouldn't it have been easier to have turned the volume on the telly down?'
Pant click whirr.... '....well... oh that silly thing. Absolutely nothing on...'
Odd how my eyes automatically squint shut when I ring her. Strange scientific fact: if I screw up my face I am able to communicate more clearly. Stabbing something repeatedly also helps. In the Losing The Will To Survive Room.
Well we might be getting back to normal next week. (Yes I did have the audacity to say that.) Our threat to public health is over. And I shall be returning to the house of misbehaving volume controls very soon. I might stab them. Alot. It might not help them very much but I'd feel fucking great.
Wednesday, 9 May 2012
Why???
She juggled a couple of magazines, shook one and began the journey. She licked her finger and flapped the page, licked her finger and flapped the page, licked her finger and flapped the page.... several times. Many several times. Then she tried another magazine. Licked her finger and flapped the page, licked her finger and flapped the page, licked her finger and ah!! There it is. The Holy Grail. 'Dartmoor. Sleeps 6. Available May-August. Ring blah blah...'
'Uh-huh?????'
'You've been to Devon haven't you?'
'Yes mum. Lived there for 3 years.'
'I know Sir Gawain likes holidays in big houses with everyone. I'll give it to him.'
'Yes. (WTF??) More of a Cornwall girl myself.' (But like Thelma, or was it Louise?, I ain't goin' through Devon...)
'Ah Cornwall. I was thinking that would be nice. I've gone off the idea of Norfolk you'll be pleased to know. I'd like to move to Cornwall now.'
Blink blink....
There would be a punchline but I'd be arrested.
'Uh-huh?????'
'You've been to Devon haven't you?'
'Yes mum. Lived there for 3 years.'
'I know Sir Gawain likes holidays in big houses with everyone. I'll give it to him.'
'Yes. (WTF??) More of a Cornwall girl myself.' (But like Thelma, or was it Louise?, I ain't goin' through Devon...)
'Ah Cornwall. I was thinking that would be nice. I've gone off the idea of Norfolk you'll be pleased to know. I'd like to move to Cornwall now.'
Blink blink....
There would be a punchline but I'd be arrested.
Tuesday, 8 May 2012
Mammoths Can't Fly
I was still kinda hanging on to my new-found peace after the monster tree burning ceremony. We skipped around the beast that took over a year to make, lost it's shelter when we switched halls, mouldered under black sacks for a further 8 months and now was to make it's final Elephant-Man stand in the middle of the woods to have wishes and demons tied to it and be danced around by idiots in the sputtering rain and set fire to.... I hung lots of demons on it's sad saggy branches - and I must say I felt buckets better afterwards. Madame All-Back-To-Mine suggested a minute's silence, which was followed by Madame It'll-Be-Fine's initiation of the Okey-Cokey. Then we sent all the loony-minors off to find the hidden eggs (only 2 weeks late) before we revelled in the sugar-fest, stamping out the now demonic-looking ashes.... A perfect Friday.
Then we bathed in a fabulous Monday. It did however mean missing the local paper coming up to the gang in the park for an article on how Home Ed numbers have gone up - but hey.... I was a passenger in a car that didn't smell of football boots and bananas listening to a CD I don't despise without the backbeat of medieval battle-cries. Pure joy. Roving Blade and I skipped off to the London Palladium and had child-free grown-up fun. We sat in lush darkness and lapped up Ryan Adams singing his slow heart-breaking mournful songs - one after another after another of desolate longing. Interjecting each with 'Here's another basket of fucking sunshine.' Or 'I thought I'd up the tempo by singing about someone wanting to go out to try and touch someone's boobs.... of course the rest of the set is about the torment of that rejection....' We love 'im. I especially loved his 10 minute whispered laudation of his cat as he tinkled the piano, his back towards us.... 'I love you Mr Cat..' The boys a twisted genius. I wore my beaten up old PVC trousers that now stick together but I felt funky and free-from.
But the price of fun is high. 2 flat tyres when I get back ain't cheap. Relentless reminding of the real world with kids in it is very costly.... to my soul. The rest of the week was torture as the harmony of demon-busting and soulful earfuls began to ebb. Roving Blade can't find our Will. Corn Snake Boy wants a .... corn snake. Minx says she'll leave home if he gets one. Little Rock Godling is Ninjago (ninja-lego) obsessed - zealously creating lots of snake warriors to introduce me to, and Thuglet is still fitting his name perfectly. My head hurts..... but another week dawns..... If I can just get past that big woolly mammoth on the dirty linen basket we'll surely crack it.....
SAT - All invited to a gig at The Forum in Tunbridge Wells. Only half an hour away. That's good - for us. Special concessions from Madame RocknRoll with the 'big' kids welcome. I didn't want to bring Corn Snake Boy (despite pleas). Got all mumsy and decided he was too young for skidding in and out of men's toilets in a music venue and couldn't afford his Coke habit anyway. Pretended it was 12-and-up. Was also post-Friday eve meltdown after my joy had turned to pain. Anyway - what would be the cost of 2 gigs in one week? I didn't think the parent gods would allow it. Roving Blade did all but take my car keys away and forbad me to even sniff the outside air. So the plan was hatched for RB to simply drive Minx there for about 8.00, meet Monsieur Bongoes and Lulu-Cheeese at the entrance, and then pick up the two wee raverlettes after and drag 'em back here by the eye-lashes.
'I'll forward M Bongoes' number to your phone so you can interact and stuff.'
'Make sure you give me M Bongoes' number.'
'Yes dear....' sigh.. 'Oh I'll just check with Madame It'll-Be-Fine I've got his up-to-date one'......
'AOK. I've sent the number to you. At the entrance about 8.15. Bob's yer unc.'
'Have you got M Bongoes' number? Miiiiiiinx!!!! It's gone 8!!! I'm not coming up there again!!! What ARE you doing!!! Bark bark..........'
'It's alright' I interject 'M Bongoes is still doing his hair I hear.'
'It's NOT alright!! We'll be late!! I'm not taking her!! Miiiinnxxx!!!!! Bark bark......'
'Welcome to my woooorrllllddd.....'
'God calm down dad... I'm ready right.'
'Where's The Forum?'
'For fuck's sake..... Entrance!! About 8.30!! They'll wait!! You've got his number. GO!!!!!'
'Hey hun - everything alright then?'
'Yeah. Kettle on?'
'Ooh I'll just slurp this and get the boys up. So were M Bongoes and Lulu-Cheeese waiting long?'
'Oh I couldn't park so I let her out on the main road.'
'What?'
'Oh we saw Mme I've-Lost-My-Phone and Pull-Yer-Trousers-Up so she caught up with them and went in.'
'So you texted M Bongoes?'
'No. I haven't got his number.'
The mammoth is at the bottom of our stairs. Looks like its parachute failed.
SUN - The re-run of the ice show cometh. Mme Cosmic drops Smoulderita at ours and we talk trumpets, Vikings and dodgy hips. (Smoulderita had a roaring time last night. Lulu-Cheeese and Minx enrol her into the 12-and-up lie. Smoulderita heard that everyone had a roaring time....)
'Thanks for dropping her round.'
'Oh it kept the dog happy. She thinks she's having a walk.'
'Well I hope she enjoyed her drive.'
'Well I must get back to this film I started and find out if the boy gets out the wardrobe. Good luck with the show.'
'Mum I'm definitely doing the axel in the show.'
'OK let's go.'
'I didn't do the axel.'
'Never mind babe. Meet you in the bar in a minute.'
'There's no sandwichy things. Can I have a drink?'
'We COULD just get home! Remember home?'
'Can I have a Coke. I want to play pool.'
(This is why I didn't take YOU along last night damned boy thing....) No come on let's just go'
Bbrrrrringgg..... 'Ooh Mme SG are you still at the rink? I've left my make-up box in the changing room tunnel - can you see it?'
'Thanks Mme Tin-Hat I am now surrounded by huge burly dead-eyed hockey players and I ain't goin' in there.'
'Is it by the mats?'
'No'
'Is it in reception already?'
(25 mins later) 'No. I've left them your number - I'm off.'
(Rrrrroom Rrrooom zooooom...... rattle... splutter... )
Beep beep 'Mum it's Mme Tin-Hat. She's found the box.'
'Joy.'
'Aah Mme Cosmic sorry we're late - but here's that Ronnie Laine DVD I promised you 6 months ago. It's a spare. I gave this to my brother for his birthday 3 years in a row..... He sent it back. I found it the other day when we were looking for our Will.
'Did you find it?'
'No. I found Ronnie Laine.'
'We'd better update ours.... Smoulderita isn't even on it.'
(Forgot to ask about the boy in the wardrobe...)
Why won't that mammoth ever stay on the stair I throw it at? Wump wump wump back down it comes every bloody time.
MON - All up for football - including Lulu-Cheeese in gathered-together shin-pads, footie boots, trackies.... Just waiting for Minx.........
'Have you got your Arts Award stuff, your shoes and your other clobber?'
'Yes'
'Fab... Miiiiinnxx!!!!!'
'Ooh Mme all-Back-To-Mine - are you getting excited about that BBC interview?'
'They've cancelled. Apparently Home Ed numbers have gone down!'
(Mass guffaws!!!)
'Can we have chips?'
'Wait til I've got the blinkin' tables out damned child...'
'Can I have chips too?'
'I don't want chips. Can I have a jacket potatoe and beans? No.. chips and beans.'
'Mme SG I've forgotten my shoes!'
'You don't say Lulu-Cheeese? Hey Eyebrow-To-Your-Will - how was footie this morning with those shin-pads we gave you last week?'
'Oh I left them behind at the Trin.'
'Of course you did.'
'Mme SG - Thuglet's just broken the clock'
'Such joy.'
Fucking mammoth. Just dropped all the bloody washing now.
TUES - 'I can pick up Little Rock Godling for you if you like after golf.'
'Ooh thanks RB - that would be brilliant. And I'll get Corn Snake Boy on the way back from the hosp.'
'Hey Mme Sweet-Demand-Avoidance - RB will pick up the mad professor between 3-4. Thanks for having him again.'
'OK Thuglet we just need to get a couple of bits of Nanny's jewellery from under the bed and we'll set off.'
'Mum.... is it 'upposed to be all over the floor?'
'Fuck fuck fuck I'd put it away upside down... help me pair up all these earrings!! Where the fuck is her bloody wedding bloody ring??!!'
'We'll just stop here and get some Jelly Babies and The Courier so I can show her the picture of Minx with the gang. WHERE are the local papers? I DON'T bloody believe it!! I only CAME in this SHOP for the BLOODY oh - a whole stand of them... sshhh.... Ooh I'll get 2. One for me and one for Minx. Yes I've got a clubcard somewhere.... fuck I forgot the Jelly Babies. 'Scuse me I just need to.... sorry.... no bloody Jelly Babies.... Jelly Berries? Sorry thanks thanks sorry thank you sorry..... '
'Here we are Ma.... sorry we're late.. um... can't find the Jelly Bellies.... Our gang's in the paper - look there's Minx..'
'Ooh I'll keep this as a memento'
'Oh. What about these books I picked up from your house?'
'Yes you might like them.'
'I meant for you to... Can only find 3 of your squeezey sponge balls.'
'Yes the other one's outside.'
'Of course it is. Got to pick up Corn Snake Boy now. Sorry about the Beri-Beris...'
'Sorry we're late... lost your house. Oh they've rescued a slow worm? How darling.... Tail's hanging off? Well we really must be going.... What's that in my bloody pocket? Oh - mum's jewellery.'
'Hang on Mum I've forgotten my magazine...'
'Where did you leave it?'
'2 weeks ago.'
'Get in the car....'
'Hey Roving Blade!'
'Daddeeeee!!' (thump)
'Hello - oomph .... How was yer mother? Where's Little Rock Godling?'
'What? It's 7 O'clock.'
'Hi Mme Sweet-Demand-Avoidance...... Monsieur Fuckwit is on his way.'
'Oh Minx Daddy's dunnit again. It's supposed to be Nanny that lost part of her brain.... And I've just found a dirty car scraper in the kitchen utensil drawer.'
'Did you remember to get the shower hose this time mum?'
'Err....'
'If it helps I did just squirt nail varnish remover into my eye.'
'Thanks hun but that didn't really help no..'
'Mu-um... where's my glass of WATER!!??'
'Oh Corn Snake Boy I just GAVE it to - oh ... you mean this one?'
'It says "Pampered Chef" on it.'
'It's my bloody best ice-scraper I lent to you and it's covered in filth.'
'Says pampered chef......'
'You know what they've gone and DONE?!!!!!'
'Oh gods what?'
'They've only stabbed a fucking dart into a 4-grand album I've got to give to a client in 10 days!!! It's a bloody good job they're asleep or I'd stab a fucking dart in their fucking heads!!!! Yeaaaaaghhhhh!!!' (Hurls plastic bottle into the sink.) 'EEuuuuuuhhhh... ughhh.....YEAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!!' (Smashes coffee cup across the floor..... )
The bathroom is the furthestmost point in the house. The toothpaste tube shares my pain. Even the mammoth has run for cover.
WED - 'I can't do it.'
'You've been doing the axel for about 2 years. Why have you gone all daft now?'
(Mme VodkaOnIce, Minx's coach, offers her support) 'Listen 'ere. I don't mind you losing End of Seasons if you try and fall but not if you lose 'cos you wimped out.'
'Right' (adding my full sympathy)
'Hhiieghh.....' (the sound of a large child deflating... )
'I'll drop you in Tunbridge Wells for Study Group and we'll go home for a lovely change.'
'Can't we stay and play with everyone at Trin?'
'No damned boy thing NOONE will be there unless they're inside DOING the Arts Award stuff so NO! We're going HOME!'
(After I just pop into about 7 shops, get stuffed behind a transporter, trick it by signalling late so it doesn't go the same way as me after 20 mins of torture, get stuck in roadworks, double back and fail in the shower hose shop.... get home and die. At least Minx is going back to Lulu-Cheeese's house after Arts Award tonight. A Wednesday night off!!)
Beep Beep 'Hey mum I've forgotten a very important page for my Arts Award and it HAS to be all in tonight.'
'I'll get Mme It'll-Be-Fine to beat you up later.'
'Oops I appeared to have sent you the text I meant to send Minx.... but thanks for agreeing to beat her up anyway!'
'Hey slag I'm at the shops what do we need?'
'This has happened and now that happened and I'm knackered and everyone's stoopid and I'm not moving until it stops bloody raining.'
'Vanish spray' oh - 'You're home!'
'I'll drop her page to her for you.'
'I'm coming too dad!'
'Your friends will NOT be at the damned Trin tonight!'
'Bye mum!'
Beep beep 'Hello it's Lulu-Cheese on mum's phone. Can you bring my shoes please?'
'Hold it Roving Blade!'
'Have searched but can't find them anywhere hun'
'Hello Lulu-C is on the bus now I'll ring her.'
'Hello Lulu-C we can't see them. Where were they?'
'I can't see 'em I'm going now.'
'I think they were by the door.'
'Are you sure they're not squashed at the bottom of your bag?'
'Hello she says they were by the door.'
'Maybe they're squashed at the bottom of her bag?'
'Minx dad's left but couldn't find Lulu-C's shoes can you tell her when she gets there.'
'I've got them.'
'You remembered someone else's shoes but you didn't remember your missing page?'
'It's OK Minx had them all along'
'Hello Minx has them'
'You dopey daughter has them already. Slap her for me would you?'
'Corn Snake Boy!!! Dinner!!!'
'He went with Dad Mum - don't you remember?'
'Are you dead in a ditch? You've been 2 hours?' oh - 'You're home!'
'He was playing with his mates.'
'Hissssssssssssssss'....
'Hoooohhhh!!! That lemon squash is.....! We got any more fizzy water? Try some of that?'
'I'm not that stoopid!' (Spplatttttphhhhzzzzzzplashhhh!!!!!!! .... fizzy water.... all over me.... )
I'm right ready for that mammoth now. Where's he bloody gone?
THURS - 'Mu-um... what's that stuff all down the walls that looks like coffee?'
'Coffee probably. You should see the cup-shaped slice out of the lino. It's a bit bigger than a dart hole..... isn't it Mr RB?'
'Still not funny.'
'Let's go kids.'
'Where?'
'A nice midge-rich swamp by a pond in the rain of course.'
'Sorry we're late. Couldn't be arsed to move quicker. Now where's dem midges? I fancy getting munched until I look like a pizza.'
Brrriiiinggg 'Hey bruv... how d'it go? U-huh.... u-huh... oh fuck.'
'What's up?'
'Hmmmn..... Mum had her Home Assessment thing today and apparently bombed straight up the stairs with no thought to how to come down, she didn't put the kettle on even tho' she thought she had and clasped her hands around it to check, left a head-height cupboard door open, took no notice of the phone or the post and forgot the bread in the toaster.'
'Oh I do that.'
'Me too.'
'Yeah she sounds fine.'
'That's the problem. They'll probably release her back into the wild next week.'
'Ah...'
'We'll come back in June when these tadpoles will be jewel-like little frogs. I wonder how many will survive to adulthood this year.... the sound of a grass snake munching on a frog is really rather disturbing. Their screams are surprisingly human-like when they're being eaten alive backwards....'
I think I can hear it now.... or is that just my inner voice...? There's a large furry snake on the stairs now. Joy joy joy.....
FRI - 'Hey Ma. Enjoy yesterday?'
'I was very pleased with how it went. They're letting me out next Tuesday or Wednesday. I've got to have PEOPLE coming round apparently. I'm not having some char-woman in my house. I can't wait to get back in the car.'
'Like fuck you will! Did I say that out loud? Here's your Jiggy Boobbies.... found 'em under me clutch. No thanks I think they taste like frogs.'
Yes we've all taken turns on the Fuckwit Step this week. Except the mammoth. He just falls off. I might ask him if he knows where our Will is. Got a feeling I may need to know sooner rather than later. Meanwhile Roving Blade and I are plotting another night off. Can we possibly afford another basket of fucking sunshine?
Hey newsflash - today we hear that The Forum has won the NME award for Best Small Venue in the country so Yay Madame RocknRoll!! Proper joy!
Then we bathed in a fabulous Monday. It did however mean missing the local paper coming up to the gang in the park for an article on how Home Ed numbers have gone up - but hey.... I was a passenger in a car that didn't smell of football boots and bananas listening to a CD I don't despise without the backbeat of medieval battle-cries. Pure joy. Roving Blade and I skipped off to the London Palladium and had child-free grown-up fun. We sat in lush darkness and lapped up Ryan Adams singing his slow heart-breaking mournful songs - one after another after another of desolate longing. Interjecting each with 'Here's another basket of fucking sunshine.' Or 'I thought I'd up the tempo by singing about someone wanting to go out to try and touch someone's boobs.... of course the rest of the set is about the torment of that rejection....' We love 'im. I especially loved his 10 minute whispered laudation of his cat as he tinkled the piano, his back towards us.... 'I love you Mr Cat..' The boys a twisted genius. I wore my beaten up old PVC trousers that now stick together but I felt funky and free-from.
But the price of fun is high. 2 flat tyres when I get back ain't cheap. Relentless reminding of the real world with kids in it is very costly.... to my soul. The rest of the week was torture as the harmony of demon-busting and soulful earfuls began to ebb. Roving Blade can't find our Will. Corn Snake Boy wants a .... corn snake. Minx says she'll leave home if he gets one. Little Rock Godling is Ninjago (ninja-lego) obsessed - zealously creating lots of snake warriors to introduce me to, and Thuglet is still fitting his name perfectly. My head hurts..... but another week dawns..... If I can just get past that big woolly mammoth on the dirty linen basket we'll surely crack it.....
SAT - All invited to a gig at The Forum in Tunbridge Wells. Only half an hour away. That's good - for us. Special concessions from Madame RocknRoll with the 'big' kids welcome. I didn't want to bring Corn Snake Boy (despite pleas). Got all mumsy and decided he was too young for skidding in and out of men's toilets in a music venue and couldn't afford his Coke habit anyway. Pretended it was 12-and-up. Was also post-Friday eve meltdown after my joy had turned to pain. Anyway - what would be the cost of 2 gigs in one week? I didn't think the parent gods would allow it. Roving Blade did all but take my car keys away and forbad me to even sniff the outside air. So the plan was hatched for RB to simply drive Minx there for about 8.00, meet Monsieur Bongoes and Lulu-Cheeese at the entrance, and then pick up the two wee raverlettes after and drag 'em back here by the eye-lashes.
'I'll forward M Bongoes' number to your phone so you can interact and stuff.'
'Make sure you give me M Bongoes' number.'
'Yes dear....' sigh.. 'Oh I'll just check with Madame It'll-Be-Fine I've got his up-to-date one'......
'AOK. I've sent the number to you. At the entrance about 8.15. Bob's yer unc.'
'Have you got M Bongoes' number? Miiiiiiinx!!!! It's gone 8!!! I'm not coming up there again!!! What ARE you doing!!! Bark bark..........'
'It's alright' I interject 'M Bongoes is still doing his hair I hear.'
'It's NOT alright!! We'll be late!! I'm not taking her!! Miiiinnxxx!!!!! Bark bark......'
'Welcome to my woooorrllllddd.....'
'God calm down dad... I'm ready right.'
'Where's The Forum?'
'For fuck's sake..... Entrance!! About 8.30!! They'll wait!! You've got his number. GO!!!!!'
'Hey hun - everything alright then?'
'Yeah. Kettle on?'
'Ooh I'll just slurp this and get the boys up. So were M Bongoes and Lulu-Cheeese waiting long?'
'Oh I couldn't park so I let her out on the main road.'
'What?'
'Oh we saw Mme I've-Lost-My-Phone and Pull-Yer-Trousers-Up so she caught up with them and went in.'
'So you texted M Bongoes?'
'No. I haven't got his number.'
The mammoth is at the bottom of our stairs. Looks like its parachute failed.
SUN - The re-run of the ice show cometh. Mme Cosmic drops Smoulderita at ours and we talk trumpets, Vikings and dodgy hips. (Smoulderita had a roaring time last night. Lulu-Cheeese and Minx enrol her into the 12-and-up lie. Smoulderita heard that everyone had a roaring time....)
'Thanks for dropping her round.'
'Oh it kept the dog happy. She thinks she's having a walk.'
'Well I hope she enjoyed her drive.'
'Well I must get back to this film I started and find out if the boy gets out the wardrobe. Good luck with the show.'
'Mum I'm definitely doing the axel in the show.'
'OK let's go.'
'I didn't do the axel.'
'Never mind babe. Meet you in the bar in a minute.'
'There's no sandwichy things. Can I have a drink?'
'We COULD just get home! Remember home?'
'Can I have a Coke. I want to play pool.'
(This is why I didn't take YOU along last night damned boy thing....) No come on let's just go'
Bbrrrrringgg..... 'Ooh Mme SG are you still at the rink? I've left my make-up box in the changing room tunnel - can you see it?'
'Thanks Mme Tin-Hat I am now surrounded by huge burly dead-eyed hockey players and I ain't goin' in there.'
'Is it by the mats?'
'No'
'Is it in reception already?'
(25 mins later) 'No. I've left them your number - I'm off.'
(Rrrrroom Rrrooom zooooom...... rattle... splutter... )
Beep beep 'Mum it's Mme Tin-Hat. She's found the box.'
'Joy.'
'Aah Mme Cosmic sorry we're late - but here's that Ronnie Laine DVD I promised you 6 months ago. It's a spare. I gave this to my brother for his birthday 3 years in a row..... He sent it back. I found it the other day when we were looking for our Will.
'Did you find it?'
'No. I found Ronnie Laine.'
'We'd better update ours.... Smoulderita isn't even on it.'
(Forgot to ask about the boy in the wardrobe...)
Why won't that mammoth ever stay on the stair I throw it at? Wump wump wump back down it comes every bloody time.
MON - All up for football - including Lulu-Cheeese in gathered-together shin-pads, footie boots, trackies.... Just waiting for Minx.........
'Have you got your Arts Award stuff, your shoes and your other clobber?'
'Yes'
'Fab... Miiiiinnxx!!!!!'
'Ooh Mme all-Back-To-Mine - are you getting excited about that BBC interview?'
'They've cancelled. Apparently Home Ed numbers have gone down!'
(Mass guffaws!!!)
'Can we have chips?'
'Wait til I've got the blinkin' tables out damned child...'
'Can I have chips too?'
'I don't want chips. Can I have a jacket potatoe and beans? No.. chips and beans.'
'Mme SG I've forgotten my shoes!'
'You don't say Lulu-Cheeese? Hey Eyebrow-To-Your-Will - how was footie this morning with those shin-pads we gave you last week?'
'Oh I left them behind at the Trin.'
'Of course you did.'
'Mme SG - Thuglet's just broken the clock'
'Such joy.'
Fucking mammoth. Just dropped all the bloody washing now.
TUES - 'I can pick up Little Rock Godling for you if you like after golf.'
'Ooh thanks RB - that would be brilliant. And I'll get Corn Snake Boy on the way back from the hosp.'
'Hey Mme Sweet-Demand-Avoidance - RB will pick up the mad professor between 3-4. Thanks for having him again.'
'OK Thuglet we just need to get a couple of bits of Nanny's jewellery from under the bed and we'll set off.'
'Mum.... is it 'upposed to be all over the floor?'
'Fuck fuck fuck I'd put it away upside down... help me pair up all these earrings!! Where the fuck is her bloody wedding bloody ring??!!'
'We'll just stop here and get some Jelly Babies and The Courier so I can show her the picture of Minx with the gang. WHERE are the local papers? I DON'T bloody believe it!! I only CAME in this SHOP for the BLOODY oh - a whole stand of them... sshhh.... Ooh I'll get 2. One for me and one for Minx. Yes I've got a clubcard somewhere.... fuck I forgot the Jelly Babies. 'Scuse me I just need to.... sorry.... no bloody Jelly Babies.... Jelly Berries? Sorry thanks thanks sorry thank you sorry..... '
'Here we are Ma.... sorry we're late.. um... can't find the Jelly Bellies.... Our gang's in the paper - look there's Minx..'
'Ooh I'll keep this as a memento'
'Oh. What about these books I picked up from your house?'
'Yes you might like them.'
'I meant for you to... Can only find 3 of your squeezey sponge balls.'
'Yes the other one's outside.'
'Of course it is. Got to pick up Corn Snake Boy now. Sorry about the Beri-Beris...'
'Sorry we're late... lost your house. Oh they've rescued a slow worm? How darling.... Tail's hanging off? Well we really must be going.... What's that in my bloody pocket? Oh - mum's jewellery.'
'Hang on Mum I've forgotten my magazine...'
'Where did you leave it?'
'2 weeks ago.'
'Get in the car....'
'Hey Roving Blade!'
'Daddeeeee!!' (thump)
'Hello - oomph .... How was yer mother? Where's Little Rock Godling?'
'What? It's 7 O'clock.'
'Hi Mme Sweet-Demand-Avoidance...... Monsieur Fuckwit is on his way.'
'Oh Minx Daddy's dunnit again. It's supposed to be Nanny that lost part of her brain.... And I've just found a dirty car scraper in the kitchen utensil drawer.'
'Did you remember to get the shower hose this time mum?'
'Err....'
'If it helps I did just squirt nail varnish remover into my eye.'
'Thanks hun but that didn't really help no..'
'Mu-um... where's my glass of WATER!!??'
'Oh Corn Snake Boy I just GAVE it to - oh ... you mean this one?'
'It says "Pampered Chef" on it.'
'It's my bloody best ice-scraper I lent to you and it's covered in filth.'
'Says pampered chef......'
'You know what they've gone and DONE?!!!!!'
'Oh gods what?'
'They've only stabbed a fucking dart into a 4-grand album I've got to give to a client in 10 days!!! It's a bloody good job they're asleep or I'd stab a fucking dart in their fucking heads!!!! Yeaaaaaghhhhh!!!' (Hurls plastic bottle into the sink.) 'EEuuuuuuhhhh... ughhh.....YEAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!!' (Smashes coffee cup across the floor..... )
The bathroom is the furthestmost point in the house. The toothpaste tube shares my pain. Even the mammoth has run for cover.
WED - 'I can't do it.'
'You've been doing the axel for about 2 years. Why have you gone all daft now?'
(Mme VodkaOnIce, Minx's coach, offers her support) 'Listen 'ere. I don't mind you losing End of Seasons if you try and fall but not if you lose 'cos you wimped out.'
'Right' (adding my full sympathy)
'Hhiieghh.....' (the sound of a large child deflating... )
'I'll drop you in Tunbridge Wells for Study Group and we'll go home for a lovely change.'
'Can't we stay and play with everyone at Trin?'
'No damned boy thing NOONE will be there unless they're inside DOING the Arts Award stuff so NO! We're going HOME!'
(After I just pop into about 7 shops, get stuffed behind a transporter, trick it by signalling late so it doesn't go the same way as me after 20 mins of torture, get stuck in roadworks, double back and fail in the shower hose shop.... get home and die. At least Minx is going back to Lulu-Cheeese's house after Arts Award tonight. A Wednesday night off!!)
Beep Beep 'Hey mum I've forgotten a very important page for my Arts Award and it HAS to be all in tonight.'
'I'll get Mme It'll-Be-Fine to beat you up later.'
'Oops I appeared to have sent you the text I meant to send Minx.... but thanks for agreeing to beat her up anyway!'
'Hey slag I'm at the shops what do we need?'
'This has happened and now that happened and I'm knackered and everyone's stoopid and I'm not moving until it stops bloody raining.'
'Vanish spray' oh - 'You're home!'
'I'll drop her page to her for you.'
'I'm coming too dad!'
'Your friends will NOT be at the damned Trin tonight!'
'Bye mum!'
Beep beep 'Hello it's Lulu-Cheese on mum's phone. Can you bring my shoes please?'
'Hold it Roving Blade!'
'Have searched but can't find them anywhere hun'
'Hello Lulu-C is on the bus now I'll ring her.'
'Hello Lulu-C we can't see them. Where were they?'
'I can't see 'em I'm going now.'
'I think they were by the door.'
'Are you sure they're not squashed at the bottom of your bag?'
'Hello she says they were by the door.'
'Maybe they're squashed at the bottom of her bag?'
'Minx dad's left but couldn't find Lulu-C's shoes can you tell her when she gets there.'
'I've got them.'
'You remembered someone else's shoes but you didn't remember your missing page?'
'It's OK Minx had them all along'
'Hello Minx has them'
'You dopey daughter has them already. Slap her for me would you?'
'Corn Snake Boy!!! Dinner!!!'
'He went with Dad Mum - don't you remember?'
'Are you dead in a ditch? You've been 2 hours?' oh - 'You're home!'
'He was playing with his mates.'
'Hissssssssssssssss'....
'Hoooohhhh!!! That lemon squash is.....! We got any more fizzy water? Try some of that?'
'I'm not that stoopid!' (Spplatttttphhhhzzzzzzplashhhh!!!!!!! .... fizzy water.... all over me.... )
I'm right ready for that mammoth now. Where's he bloody gone?
THURS - 'Mu-um... what's that stuff all down the walls that looks like coffee?'
'Coffee probably. You should see the cup-shaped slice out of the lino. It's a bit bigger than a dart hole..... isn't it Mr RB?'
'Still not funny.'
'Let's go kids.'
'Where?'
'A nice midge-rich swamp by a pond in the rain of course.'
'Sorry we're late. Couldn't be arsed to move quicker. Now where's dem midges? I fancy getting munched until I look like a pizza.'
Brrriiiinggg 'Hey bruv... how d'it go? U-huh.... u-huh... oh fuck.'
'What's up?'
'Hmmmn..... Mum had her Home Assessment thing today and apparently bombed straight up the stairs with no thought to how to come down, she didn't put the kettle on even tho' she thought she had and clasped her hands around it to check, left a head-height cupboard door open, took no notice of the phone or the post and forgot the bread in the toaster.'
'Oh I do that.'
'Me too.'
'Yeah she sounds fine.'
'That's the problem. They'll probably release her back into the wild next week.'
'Ah...'
'We'll come back in June when these tadpoles will be jewel-like little frogs. I wonder how many will survive to adulthood this year.... the sound of a grass snake munching on a frog is really rather disturbing. Their screams are surprisingly human-like when they're being eaten alive backwards....'
I think I can hear it now.... or is that just my inner voice...? There's a large furry snake on the stairs now. Joy joy joy.....
FRI - 'Hey Ma. Enjoy yesterday?'
'I was very pleased with how it went. They're letting me out next Tuesday or Wednesday. I've got to have PEOPLE coming round apparently. I'm not having some char-woman in my house. I can't wait to get back in the car.'
'Like fuck you will! Did I say that out loud? Here's your Jiggy Boobbies.... found 'em under me clutch. No thanks I think they taste like frogs.'
Yes we've all taken turns on the Fuckwit Step this week. Except the mammoth. He just falls off. I might ask him if he knows where our Will is. Got a feeling I may need to know sooner rather than later. Meanwhile Roving Blade and I are plotting another night off. Can we possibly afford another basket of fucking sunshine?
Hey newsflash - today we hear that The Forum has won the NME award for Best Small Venue in the country so Yay Madame RocknRoll!! Proper joy!
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