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Comical Thursday and how I didn’t get a taco.

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Last week, a new shopping centre opened in Sadford town.  One that has been 10 years in the making.

People took off work to go to the opening.  I didn’t.  Mostly because I’ve seen a Debenhams before so I’m all good.   Then I heard that there was a Taco Bell in the food court and I was like “Woah. Hold the fookin phone.  This could be a gamechanger!”

Had I known that in advance, I might well have bunked off and been first in the line.

My daughter visited today, as her school was closed for one of its seemingly twice monthly Meet Your Coach Days (AKA parent/teaching meeting). 

She wasn’t that impressed.   Neither was I.  She didn’t bring me a taco.

taco

 

Had quite a comical day today, where if the Benny Hill theme had been playing as I went from room to room, enveloped by mishaps, muddles and miscommunications, I honestly wouldn’t have been bloody surprised.  So today was a good day. It made me laugh (but probably shouldn’t have).

To complete the amusement of my day, I am now watching on Channel 4 catch-up – ‘My Psychic Life’.  If you can, then I urge you to watch it.  If only for the part where a lady talking to a little boy (who we can’t see) then gets up and tells him goodbye, turns away and her shopping bag smacks him where he face should’ve been.

Seemingly it’s also compulsory for all male psychic mediums to be as camp as a row of tents!

I only hope that tomorrow’s Goggleboxers watched the same show because I’d love to know what Scarlett would’ve made of it!

I think our house would be very entertaining if we were on Gogglebox. Although, last night Bman thought it hilarious to pull my pants down while I was washing up then pull my T-Shirt over my face & splash washing up suds on my norks!  At which point I did say (from inside my T shirt) “This is why we’re not on Gogglebox!” As he stood there laughing like a drain.

Xx

 

 

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Baby, I’m your man!

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I took a photo of myself today on my new witchcraft mobile to use as a profile pic for Instagram.

WTF?

Trust me, I am not fishing for platitudes, but holy moley I looked like bloody shit no matter what angle I took the fucker from!   Crow’s Feet?   It was like Alfred Hitchcock’s ‘The Birds’ out there round the old eye regions (and I had make-up on). 

I thought I looked pretty decent circa 2006 – I seemed to come into my own and embrace my mid to late 30’s.  Now the façade has started to crumble and the plasterboard & MDF is beginning to show through.  I might try some of that Nanoblur cream (or maybe just a pair of 10 denier tights over the lens of my camera)

not the eyes, not the eyes!

Have I always looked like a man & just not been able to admit the truth to myself? 

I’ve sadly lacked in the lovin’ department over the years, not exactly fighting the fellas off with a stick, & most of the decent offers I did get, I knocked back because I’m an asshole (who had, & still has, body inferiority issues).   

My youngest even said last week while I was mooching for clothes in Chester and asked their opinion on a frock.  “Mum, sorry but dresses and you… well they just don’t match”

Think my sister got the looks and I just got the mannish chin and the moles from the paternal side of the Fam.

Unlucky.

I like to think that perhaps I appear better in the flesh, as it were, and just don’t take a pretty picture.   Bman knows the truth.  He’s been describing me to his work colleagues as ‘Benny Hill in a wig’ for years.  To be fair, he’s still around, which speaks volumes, although I’m not sure of what?

Vogue will be calling any time soon (for their drag edition)

I’ve used a picture of one of the childerbeast’s eyes instead & thrown a cloth over the bathroom mirror…

 Xx