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When Ian Botham was in the Rebel Alliance

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Actual conversation this morning in Casa Brew:-

Me: It was just total boffins big Brew (I forget what I was referring to)

Bman: Boffins? what like as in “Many Boffins died to bring us this information”

Me:  They weren’t boffins, they were Bothans

Bman: Yeah boffins.

Me: No Both with a Thhhhh not Boff like with a Ffff

Bman: Like B o g g i n s

Me:  That’s boggins honey with a G, that’s not a word

Bman: B o t h a m s ?  Wait no that’s like as in Ian?

Me: Bothans were the Star Wars ones. Boffins are science bods. Botham was a cricketer

Bman: Sure it wasn’t boffins?  Surely the Bothans must have been boffins too then?

Me:  (starts googling jpegs of Bothans and Boffins)



Me:  Anyway, I meant bobbins not boffins, Bothans or Bothams.  Bobbins. It was bobbins*!


This is why we should be on Gogglebox… or not!

We then took Alan Lickman on a planned visit to the vets for a check up on his special eye and for them to have a gander at the swollen lump on his neck which started to form yesterday. On the way up to the vets though,  I detected a rank smell in the car and we thought he might have done a shit in his cat box.  But no… the lump had burst!  

D I S G U S T I N G!

They’ve cleaned him up and he seems a bit more on form although he looks even more like General Woundwort than he did before with his special eye and his ragged face.


How much did I chuckle though when I asked Bman if he’d fed him since they came back and (referring to the liquid cat food we have to give him) he said he’d given him “two soups”

I think we all know what I was picturing in my head.



Hopefully he is still covered by his pet insurance and hasn’t maxed himself out yet.  I will be on the blower to them tomorrow to clarify. I want to know whether or not we are having Christmas or not this year, or we’re all eating cat soups and sleeping in the same bed with our coats on to keep warm because we can’t put the heating on.

Later MoFos Xx

*bobbins = utter rubbish, worthless


Not that manic a Monday

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It’s a tough life not working Mondays anymore.  Sunday night I stayed up late watching episodes of ‘The Haunting of Hill House’ on Netflix, then slept on the sofa as I was too disturbed to go upstairs in the dark.  I stayed where I was with a blanket for protection against invading spectral entities, ensuring none of my body parts was exposed to the air.

This morning I have mostly been planning this weeks swim lessons, texting parents about swim hats and getting sucked into watching clips of Bob Mortimer’s tall tales and unbelievable truths on
‘Would I lie to You?’ after seeing a clip on Twitter about him breaking an egg into his bath after advice from Chris Rea (as you do).

With encouragement from Bman I then had a go at breaking an apple in half with my bare hands.  With my jar & bottle opening skills, I thought it might be a given.  However, sadly not. I only succeeded in breaking a chunk off and spraying mushed apple bits and juice all over the living room rug.  Perhaps I need more practice or a bigger apple.


I also perhaps need to think about working more hours or taking up an active hobby.  

My current project is trying to prove that our technology is listening to us.  So me and the Childerbeast are seeing how soon we start to see adverts pop up on Spotify, eBay or FB for anything to do with badminton if we keep mentioning the word in general conversation.


I’ll let you know how that pans out.


Ciao Ciao Xx


In other World news

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Meanwhile, as Kanye forms a disturbing bromance in the Oval Office with Trump; storms ravage the world; Patisserie Valerie goes tits up and western civilization skids at alarming speed towards certain oblivion (mostly because of the prospect of no more fancy cakes). This terrifying incident unfolded in my old hometown ..

Stay safe kids. Stay safe


WTF is going on with my hands in this pic?

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When you find this in the pocket of a hoodie you’ve not worn in while and momentarily get excited because you think it’s an E.


But then you realise it’s a ‘smint’ and are a smidge disappointed.

Although you’re not sure what you would have done with it even if it was an E because it’s not 1992 and you are now a ‘sensible’ 40-something with responsibilities. 

If it had been a long forgotten recreation pharmaceutical item would you?: – 


a) Bin it

b) Stash it for a rainy day

c) Neck that bad boy dry, not even letting it even touch the sides. Stick some techno on the old MP3 and use the ironing board as a podium!

d) Give it to a tramp outside the Spar in Fallowfield (funny story…)


Answers on a postcard MoFos.


Eye Eye, Ear Ear.

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He’s back! Not quite as we know it, but he’s back.  Not quite the same pussycat but not in a terrifying way like that one on Stephen King’s Pet Semetary. He hasn’t tried to eat our faces off yet. He hasn’t tried to eat anything TBH.
I am feeding him through his feeding tube with what seems to be some kind of Dunns River nourishment drink for cats.  He mostly lies around, not moving and looking very very sorry for himself. But wouldn’t you if you could only see out of one eye and had a tube dangling from your neck held in place with a bandage covered in pictures of tractors?



I have to be Nurse Radchett to his Randle McMurphy, doling out his meds and twiddling about with his tubes and bandages and lubricating his special eye.



The pair of us have been sleeping on the couch downstairs.  Him with his lethargy & gimpiness and me with my special ears.  This is the collection of unguents and medications I have accrued over the last week to try and sort my swim ear out. Had to go into the chemist and ask for the strongest painkiller they could legally sell me.  The full Ant McPartlin/ Matthew Perry package. 



One of the things has come from America, from Amazon. Seemingly it’s no longer available in the UK. Quite possibly for the same reason you can’t just walk into a store here and buy pepper spray like you can over there.  I tried some in my bad ear and it felt like when you inhale sharply after eating wasabi and you briefly have 20/20 vision and can see the future.  Like someone had stuck a lit sparkler in my ear canal!  When I checked the ingredients I saw that it was 95% alcohol!

Here’s to both of us being back to 100% soon.  Meanwhile we’re both watching 22 July on Netflix – a dramatization of Anders Breivik’s lunatic attack on Oslo and Utoya island. Terrifying stuff. What a fookin’ nutter!  Be wary kids. Not everyone is who they say they are, just because they’re dressed as a policeman or wearing a Hi-Vis.

On that chilling note, I’ll leave you there while I go and administer more kerosene to my ear.


Ciao Ciao


PS:  Oh. BTW.  Pet insurance.  You need that shit.  So far Alan has cost around £3K (luckily he is covered) but Bman could have got a new car for that!

That’s at least 1 life gone!

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My little baby big fat man cat, Alan Lickman is hospitalized and slowly eating into the meager savings we have, while he has his smiley face repaired.



Cat Vs Taxi


Got a call at 1:30am Sunday morning from the local PDSA saying someone had brought him in after finding him on the road nearby.  They weren’t sure he would survive, so after waking Bman, off we went in the wee small hours leaving the childerbeast unattended and hoping that they wouldn’t be carted off in a fireman’s lift in their PJs, never to be seen again.

Surreal experience of being at the vet’s at that time. Not helped by still being half asleep and the lady on the desk confusing us with some people who arrived at the same time with a sick dog. This led to us being ignored and left unsupervised in the reception area for quite some time. 

We couldn’t get back outside to ring the intercom buzzer and there was no bell or anything on the desk.  Resorted to calling out ghost hunt style. “Hallo. Is there anybody there?”  Eventually, someone appeared and we got to see him.  I say we – Bman isn’t right cracking at this type of thing. I have a slightly better constitution for the grisly and the messy – from being a mum, first aider and a primary school educator I guess. So I went in to see him to check out the damage first.

Poor little dude looked a right state.  Sloth from the Goonies sprung to mind! Was glad Bman didn’t see him in his gory glory.  His jaw was dislocated and he had a bit of a popeye going on and looked a bit of an actual bloody mess.  But alive! And aware that I was there despite being hopped up on methadone. (Him, not me).

Since then he’s been patched up and his jaw rewired. he’s pottering about a bit but being fed through a feeding tube.  They’re keeping him in for a few days still and I’m hoping to go visit him tomorrow,  take him some grapes and Lucozade and a comic – that kind of thing.  Wonder if he’ll be in one of those backless gowns with his butt hanging out?

I only hope I can track down the lady who took him to the PDSA because I think if he’d been left or run off when he was hit, that he would be brown bread in a bush somewhere.

Thank you, whoever you are.  Hopefully he will be home soon.









Noice it’s unusual

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This is me time now.  Working a 12hr week has given me a lot more free time. I was dusting and rearranging my nik-naks at 8am this morning.

Had a bit of a Kath and Kim day today. Well, more of a Kath and Kel.  Bman and I went to have lunch in Morridogs together before floating round B&M to buy a bit of crap.  We then came home and he nodded off on the sofa, while I sorted out my file full of policy docs/bills etc and watched Netflix.

Kath and Kel

We might venture to the MacMillian Coffee Morning tomorrow at the school. It’ll be matching jumpers and speedwalking next.


SpunkRat and HornBag