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Birthdays and Brexit

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Happy Birthday to the Bman today. The Ninja to my Yolandi (that’s a regular-sized banger BTW – She’s just a very small woman).  Still alive Big B, despite all childhood and adult stupid (usually drunken) efforts over the years to curtail that state of affairs.

Well done you!

DA

Friendship goals level 10 – Ninja & Yolandi

40 years we have known each other and been hanging around one another like bad smells for about 33 years (and together for 24!)

Christ!

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Appropriate card from his brother

Meanwhile, Britain has actually left the European Union as of 11pm Friday.  Leave voters partied in Parliament Square clad in Union Jacks and spouting utter bollocks to anyone brave/foolish enough to approach them for comment.

Brexit Day, London, UK - 31 Jan 2020

I’m not sure that anyone actually knows what happens now. Although judging by some of the interviews I saw, I think some of the Parliament Square revellers thought that it meant that by daybreak that all the Johnny Foreigners would have disappeared in a puff of smoke back to where they came from. Spam and Egg would be the national dish of the UK. We would once again return to the glory days of the occupation of India, tiffin at 5pm and women no longer having the vote. A free golliwog for every white British child and the Black & White minstrels back on the telly.

I could be wrong.  I hope so…

I am quite sure that not everybody who voted to leave did so on an uninformed and racist basis. However, sadly I  rather think a lot of them might have.

In tribute to Bman’s birthday and the fact that we will no doubt soon return to the halcyon days before we were part of the European Union, we have just watched his birthday DVD…

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Quality birthday giftage

Our kids don’t know they’re born, entertainment-wise. They better get used to it. This shit will be back on our screens, mark my words. Along with Bernie Winters and All-New Schnorbitz.

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We’ll be watching it while we eat Crispy Pancakes and Arctic Roll from a tray on our knees.

Rule frigging Britannia.

😦
Addendum: Just saw this story. And WOW! Just WOW!

https://www.aol.co.uk/news/2020/02/01/brexit-poster-demanding-tower-block-residents-speak-english-repo/



Don’t go there…stay indoors. Shut the blinds.

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In my mission to finally dress as Melanie Daniels (Tippi Hedren’s character) from ‘The Birds’ at Halloween, I was forced to venture into town today.  Scouring the charity shops of Bradford for an appropriate sage green suit or dress and jacket.

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I’d needed a wee as soon as I got off the bus of course, but refused to pay 30p to use the fetid public toilets at the Interchange, so on the way to Sunbridge Wells, I ducked into ‘Spoons.

Fuck me!

Wednesday lunchtime and it was rammed full of people. Mostly olds. All eating and taking full advantage of the endless coffee/tea refills.

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Charity shops and vape shops are about the only thing left on what was the old High Street now. Everything has closed down since the Broadway Shopping Centre opened further down town.  Obviously I had to go into Millets – a closing down sale in a camping store – I was like a moth to a flame.  Managed to stop myself making purchase of an emergency bivvy bag for the old ‘Grab Bag’.  Fuck Yellowhammer, I’ve had one of those at the ready for years. Just in case. Brexit chaos? Sentient AI Uprising? Zombie Apocalypse? Alien Invasion?#beprepared  

Speaking of the zombie apocalypse. It could well have begun already in Bradford and nobody would notice – like when Shaun goes to the shop in ‘Shaun of the Dead’.

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I was bumped into outside Superdrug by a man who looked like a zombie Che Guevara. I think he was trying to steal my wallet as I put it back in my bag. He was unsuccessful, due to my quick reflexes and the fact that he looked as if he’d had a few hits of spice so was a bit unsteady on his feet to say the least. 

After about an hour I was beginning to feel like I was in an episode of The Walking Dead  meets The Real Housewives of Buttershaw and considered heading back to ‘Spoons for a pint or 5 just to forget that this is where I live. This craphole where I brought my children into the world. Where I will likely never escape from. Where I hope they escape from as soon as they can. Were I am in no doubt that there are other places just as shite, and worse than this. Don’t go to any of those places kids.  Aim high!

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Girls in so much make up – where do they think they were going? How much more slap do they put on if they’re going out-out?  Scaggy looking couple with scaggy looking child shouting at one another at the bus stop and exposing their clear lack of dental hygiene to everyone. More spice casualties bumping into me as they weaved their way down the street.

I managed to source a suitable outfit from Oxfam for £4 and get the rest of my shopping list and headed for the bus home before I either threw myself infront of one or went on a shooting spree. It could have gone either way. But every now and then you need to do this kind of stuff so you can evaluate your life and see that it could in fact be a fuck load worse.

Count your blessings y’all.

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I may need to break my no booze through the week ban and have a G&T to steady my nerves. 

😦

 

What’s occurring people?

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A new term begins and what’s new?

I was awoken this morning to house alarms blaring in the street and my phone pinging with texts from the National Grid alerting me that there was a power outage that they were dealing with.  Who gave them my number? Why has this alert text never happened before when there has been a power cut?
Bman tells me that the local Fb page for local people was awash with complaints and wild speculation of the cause. Immigrants? Brexit? ElNino? The Russian Mafia? Aliens?
Suffice to say the power was restored fairly quickly and we didn’t have to resort to buying a generator from Lidl or stockpiling bottled water.

My new term at Koolkids has begun and although I could do with a few more learners in order for me to be able to afford Christmas this year, It is good to be back. I am on the look out for other work though to top up the coffers. Not sure how many years I can maintain this constant worry about the next term that I won’t have enough learners to afford to live.

Silver linings – I am not at school, wasting air, attempting, dismally, to impart knowledge to the disinterested and often downright rude, local kinder.

Eldest offspring is thus far, unimpressed with sixth form. She had a three day induction session, which consisted of looking around the school that she already attended. Then running about outside with the army and building structures from marshmallows in a lame team building exercise. Today she hauled her cookies all the way to the other ‘confederate’ (i.e. the other local high school where she has to attend classes) for a triple art session, only to be told the lesson was only for an hour.  She was home by 11am – piss wet through from the walk in the rain and not happy at all!

😦

The joy of being 16 and disgruntled with everything even though you’re beautiful and intelligent.  I remember it well (apart from the beautiful and intelligent bit).  LOL.

Well, time for me to head out into the pissing rain myself to walk to work.

Ciao Ciao MoFos Xx

 

How looooooong has this been going on?

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Anyone else wondering if it all might go a bit ‘Game of Thrones’ or ‘Threads’ once we / if we eventually leave the EU? 
Failure of the national grid? Walls of ice separating north and south? Fights to the death over lettuces in Aldi?  Children burnt at the stake to appease non-existent gods?
Forget dope and crack – the dealers will be cashing in, selling insulin and ibuprofen under cover of darkness.  Mothers bartering sexual favours in doorways in exchange for rats in a basket to feed their kids because we can’t get cans of beans anymore? 

It almost went that way yesterday when Whatsapp, FB and Insta all went down at the same time and the entire nation had to make conversation with their loved ones rather than communicating via memes.  Thousands of posed & heavily filtered photos remained unposted. People around the country were denied the knowledge of what their old school friends, not seen for 25 years, had eaten for their tea!  

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What a catastrophic clusterfuck of ineptitude our government is at the moment?  When are we changing the national anthem to the Benny Hill theme tune?  We must be a laughing stock to the rest of Europe.  FFS!
I didn’t vote to leave but I respect anyone’s decision who did, providing they voted as best they could with the scant information I felt we’d been given.  I’m not sure anyone actually knew what was going to happen. Although if you were one of those people who voted to leave because you thought anyone not born and raised within the sound of the Bow Bells would be immediately deported, then you, my friend are a bellend and I do not respect your decision.
  I used to be in charge of School Council when I worked in a school (this one time…) and a bunch of primary school children seemed more capable of sorting their shit out than our current lot in charge.

*sigh*

Meanwhile, I have got some new sneakers and they are super comfortable and feel very bouncy – I may even be tempted on my walk to work to break into a light jog – who knows.

🙂

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Am also slightingly disturbed that in the last few days when I log on to FB on the laptop, I am getting pop up ads for viagra and sites which encourage random sexual encounters!  One of which depicted a cartoon image of a woman astride a man who was sat upon a washing machine – the heading read, “Are you having a dry spell?”  WTF Facebook?

😀

Ciao Ciao MoFos.  I’m off to stockpile like an end of days prepper and watch people yelling at one another on Question Time  Xx

Things that make you go “whaaaaaaaat?”

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So it’s only Wednesday and already Luke (not to be confused with Matthew or Katy) Perry has died.  As has Prodigy legend, Keith ‘twisted firestarter’ Flint.

Whaaaaaaaaat! 

Forget the obligatory Firestarter clip of your man Keith smacking himself about the head in a sewer somewhere.  This clip is the only one you ever need to see. Stick with it. The Goose makes it.  Keef’s Camping Review

I have been feeling pretty rough this week.  We can invent ever more witchcraft-like phones and apps for just about anything, but we can’t yet cure a common coldI’ve been doing a fair bit of laying around under a duvet on the settee as a result of the ineffectiveness of the old lemsip.  One of the things I watched while prone in pjyamas and awaiting death with tissue paper stuck up my nose, was the Netflix documentary Abducted in plain sight’.  About a girl abducted, twice, as a child by the same man.
I urge you to watch it and I defy you not to say “WHAAAAAAAAAT?” at least once. No spoilers but I guarantee you will also feel like parent of the year.

As an antidote to the news stories of celebrity deaths and questionable parenting decisions, I was hopeful of a miracle local news story yesterday lunchtime when Look North promised a story on a cat who diagnosed its owner’s hidden cancer.

Eagerly I shushed Bman at the crucial moment, not wanting to miss a word of this incredible tale.  Did the cat mew at its owner, gently pawing a particular area of her body? Did it then click open the laptop with the cancer page of Web MD open in the browser?  Did the cat sport a white coat and stethoscope?

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Courtesy of google images

 

No!

The lady had suffered many a symptom, which she had chosen to ignore. Then the cat jumped on her lap as cats are wont to do, and it hurt her belly slightly so her hubby made her go to the GP.

Whaaaaaaaaaat?

This is news?  Cat sits on owner – SHOCKER!

Glad the lady is now ok and everything but fuck me what a lame story.

At least it made a change from another Brexit story.

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Courtesy of google images

There on the stair….

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So good news, I saw a ghost this week.  Years of ghost hunting and pissing about in cellars, old buildings and dark satanic mills with my partner in crime, and where was this one?  Running down my stairs, that’s where! 

I was vacuuming when the bugger shot round the newel post and through me on the right-hand side. I saw it and felt it. Screamed like a bitch like Yvette bloody Fielding, mid-vac, then carried on hoovering whilst yelling,DO NOT DO THAT AGAIN PLEASE AND STOP RUNNING ABOUT INSIDE!”

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Then of course, spent the rest of day questioning my eyesight and my sanity (no change there then).  And no, it wasn’t one of the cats, a free-floating dust bunny or a local teenage burglar.

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Told the Childerbeast later and the older one seems to think there is a woman attached to the ancient chair we have now got in our possession, that used to belong to great aunt someoneorother on the Bman’s side of the family.
It was in the MiL’s bathroom for years. Now it’s in youngest Childerbeast’s bedroom (but she wants it removed now funnily enough). I’ve said it can either go in our room or in the loft.

Meanwhile Hell literally has frozen over in America and it is already too cold for me here and we are nowhere near as cold as Chicago. Hell Frozen Over 

I don’t do cold. It’s rubbish!

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Me walking to work the other day down Duckets

And in the UK, plans from the cold war era have been resurrected to evacuate the Royal Family from London in case it all goes apocalyptic after a no-deal Brexit.  It better not! I’ve got a lunch date with Her Maj booked in for the Easter hols and I’m not having it ballsed up by the ‘gilet jaunes’ and people fighting to the death over iceberg lettuce and vine-ripened cherry tomatoes in Lidls around the country.  I’ve bought new Ruby Shoos and a matching clutch and everything – I was even going to blow dry my barnet for the occasion.  Can’t do that if Liz is holed up in a bunker in the Scottish Highlands hiding from the common man.

Stay calm people. (But perhaps get some gas canisters for the old camping stove and some tinned peaches, just in case).

Ciao Ciao Xx

 

 

 

A little bit meh today…

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Today was my turn for a pre-Christmas existential crisis, possibly sparked by having a dream last night about lying under the duvet on Christmas Eve and hearing Santa delivering presents.  I then awoke to the realization that actually there was no magic in the World and everything was a bit shit.  I sat on the couch in my festival poncho to keep warm after the heating had gone off for the day, watching BBC Newsfeed and wishing I never had to hear the word Brexit ever again.  Was also mega hacked off that daughter number 1’s ‘prom’ dress she wanted (for next June) and asked me to order on Black Friday, had arrived yesterday…but she hates it. (I thought it looked lovely – but what do I know? I’m just her mother).  The retailer won’t refund unless there is actually something wrong with it – no refunds for change of heart. So that’s me taking a £110 bath and stuck with a lovely dress of no use to anyone. Certainly not me – one week away from being 47. I’m already looking forward to being 3 years closer to being able to apply for a 50+ funeral plan.  With my luck, I’ll peg it at 49 and never get my ‘free gift worth £75’.

So yes, I am feeling a bit past it just now.  No matter what colour I do my hair, the ginge shines out. I can go without sweets, cakes and booze for well over a month and still look like a lardy dough face. Smooth FM is no longer the vestige of the golden oldie. It’s now back to back ‘singalong bangers’. And my Childerbeast cringe at pretty much everything I say and do unless it involves paying for something.

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Set off too early for the dentist today and ended up wandering without aim around Farsley until they unlocked the doors after their lunch break at the surgery.
Lots of salons around Farsley with lots of ladies getting pampered, trimmed, coiffured and having their nails done.  Not me!  I caught sight of myself in many a shop window and thought I looked like a character from
‘The Road’ in my trackydaks, waterproof coat, odd gloves, hoody up and big chunky scarf.  I might as well have been pushing a shopping trolley full of looted items. 

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Mood only improved when one of my young swimmers presented me with a Christmas gift – bless her! And then the Bman text to ask if I wanted a lift home.

Off to bed now to get some sleep and hope that I will be back in the festive spirit tomorrow.

Ciao Ciao XX