The Man With The Silver Cum...................

For Stew (probably the only person who knows the meaning behind the title) xx

1. Park your beloved car and leave overnight.
2. Stir from sleep by stranger at your door.
3. Listen through bleary, beer eyes how stranger has mixed herself up with a real driver and reversed into your very obvious car by "accident".
4. Approach beloved car with trepidation...turn and eyeball said "driver".
5. Consider the 'Salford handshake' to be given liberally to stranger. Report accident, make claim then wait..... and wait and wait....
6. Unable to cope with driving the worlds worst courtesy car (Toyota Corolla) order that your car be returned-damaged or not.
7. Notice that somebody (prob a woman "driver") has scratched bumper on courtesy car.
8. Halfords. Chip repair kit in Lucerne Silver 2.
9. Realise that your not part of West Coast Customs Team and you're wank at spray jobs.
10. Stand back and admire your shit attempt....Say - "It looks like somebody came all over the car in silver".........................The Man With The Silver Cum......

The Tower of Cotton Wool........

We just seem to be arguing about absolutely everything now.....I'm quick tempered with Mrs Doubtfire these days. When I moved back into the house we bought together - as a single entity - not together- I had it sussed. Don't engage in conversation with him. Don't rise to his unreasonable behaviour and try hard not to stoop to name calling.
I have the patience of a 3yr old child building a tower with cotton wool balls....Its been a challenge and I'm surprised that I have managed to last in a relatively calm state this long. I have ticked all the above mentioned no nos. Conversations taken place? About 5/6 - tick. And the outcome? Arguing - so tick. Lost my temper due to his unreasonable demands and behaviour? Tick. Outcome? Name calling. So tick again.
The rows involve Mrs Doubtfire tearing into my choices - how I choose to eat, what I choose to listen to and watch, how I drive, talk, choose to wash and dry my laundry, choose to raise my wonderful son.....and on and on ariston. I can't remember most of the one-sided rows (he begins and ends an argument I just fill the middle bit in until I see him squirming with the look of defeat and then retreat with self-pride). I have selective hearing where Mrs D is concerned. I think maybe if I had found this talent and applied it before we had split maybe we wouldn't have ended... then I realise that my hands are tensed and my jaw clenched at the very thought of us still being together. Dread is the word I think heh he......
We are total opposites in every conceivable way. Not a cue for I say TOMaTO you say tomAto!!! I am outgoing, confident and outspoken. He is insular, insecure and quiet. I am quick-witted, sarcastic and dry. He is a knock-knock joker, slow on the uptake and slapstick. I am sociable, friendly and attention loving. He is highly unsociable, meek and shy. I am willing to learn and take advice, humbled by certain things and in awe of others. He is a know-it-all, conceited and cock-sure. I am positive, I like to boost and compliment those who feel less than others and I am a believer in seeing is doing. He is negative, puts people down - draining the soul from the good and the lively and he has no vision. I am genuine, honest as much as I can be and I realise my weaknesses. He is false - shows the side he thinks will improve his status and the side which keeps him "the nice guy", he lies frequently and badly and he believes he is better, stronger, more talented, more knowledgeable and so much more highly accomplished. Chalk and cheese? No. The difference is still not defined enough....A flea and an elephant, no not enough.
I'm me and I'm happy to be whatever I am today.
He is not him...he is his mother's son, he is the suspected homosexual, he is not even a half of what he portrays himself to believe and the sad thing is he knows this. He has no idea of who he is. Is this is why he picks, pokes, prods, pulls apart, rips into me and at times my amazing son? He tries to reduce others to how he really feels inside about himself. I have known this man for 6yrs now and I see more of him than he sees of himself. I'm not judging Mrs Doubtfire. I can't. you cannot judge a soul you know, you have an insight to, or somebody you have shared intimacies with. But there are indicators and incidents, experiences and emotions that lead you to an undeniable truth about somebody you have had close relationships with. There can only be so many lies told to point to a truth being covered and coveted. I do think there are issues involving this man and his choice of life...I'm not privy to this - he will come forward when he is ready. And hey! don't get me wrong...I'm a vicious mouthed, scathing woman when required and can quite easily reduce this man of perfection to tears whenever I feel like. I don't sit on the fence, am very liberal with cursing and the turning of the screw..and sometimes I take delight in watching Mr ICANDONOTHINGWRONG shrivel and simper as he realises he has taken on too much with me again and he can't handle the situation he pushed for. I'm no shrinking violet but I have played fair and fair and fair (hes the square) but it seems a path I'm unable to stray from at the moment - the path of Mrs D's annoyance, irritation and general tomfoolery to just simply wind him up......Until Mrs D decides his life choice and realises..releases and feels he is WHO he is I'm party to a life full of complaining, whingeing, obsessive behaviour, routines and tight schedules, always having a piss before he leaves the house like his mother taught him, constant checking of rules being followed and adhered to plans of action. Jealous rants involving my relationship to my son, comments meant to break a person down, remarks muttered just out of earshot about my personal appearance or weight, refusal to compliment or even congratulate, no recognition of other's successes, the taking of credit at every possible opportunity, he will continue to live the life of a hermit crab all the time trying to sanction myself and my son for not doing or wanting the same, he will constantly push and pull for the strict unmovable routine of his life to be played out to mine and my son's, he will always put his mother first and possess a strange respect for a woman who has none for him (smothering and cotton wool covering, denial of chocolate until you are an adult and making your newborn through to adult-hood son drink tea, denying him of friends because "nobody in this village is good enough for my son", constant stroking of the head, telling the girlfriend on the first meeting - "You won't ever stop me from giving him hugs and kisses" and the tightening of the apron strings when crying and upset instead of finding comfort with your husband as you do and not your son is abuse of sorts)....all this and more. I am strong, I am able and I am a big glass half FULL. Mrs D - you will never bring me down but hey! its fun to watch you trying!!!!

Do women make good drivers?

No.....

ManU

Im an ardent MUFC supporter and we just beat Everton 4-2....C'mon the lads!!! Here we come!!! All hail to the one and only Ferguson....Eric The Great I love you..check myspacesexc75

The Egyptians Got It Wrong

Catty(< for Stew) Versus Dog - a long running debate between I, dog lover and loon who talks babytalk to random dogs and Ourkid AKA Steve my eldest brother. I was 12 when my mama told me about a cat she had saved from the mean streets and housed it in a cupboard(a sideboard lol)wrapped in a towel when she was a young girl. It was pregnant..it gave birth to several gremlins but one was deformed to the point of..well it was just NOT a kitten. The caring and loving mother ate the deformity. Ever since then I have disliked cats immensely. My mum told me she had touched another cat that was so skinny its ribs were sharp...now what the hell is all that about, sharp ribs - just wrong!
When I was 13 and a frequent wagger of skool I had mooched to Ourkids, hoping for time out on my hectic school day(probably just signed the reg and fucked off) He was having his coffee and wilin the day making music. I noticed a dog in the vast garden out back digging in a pile of sand. "Erm Ourkid...whats that dog doing?"
"Making a nest" he says
"Why?" asks the delinquent fatkid.
"For its eggs...dogs lay eggs in sand" he tells me.....
In science lesson at school, a one-off you understand, me being in skool....reproduction lesson....suffice to say I was sent home on a suspension that day for telling Mr Shipway(teacher complete with kipper tie and coffee breath) to "Fuck right off" and "Dogs DO lay eggs cos' my brother told me!!"
Cats are skinny, slinky, smelly, selfish shlags of the night...worship a ho'? Nah the idea of worshipping a rancid furbone is odd to say the least. Sacred? Are you avin' a laff? I hit a catty the other day...seriously it hit my front spoiler like a rat out of a viaduct and hurtled into a bush at the side of the road...I felt bad and I tried to avoid it, slamming on but alas I felt the bump. I dont want to kill them but it was just proof that cats are thick as shit and out to get me...Dogs, ah loving, homely, protective, genuine and caring creatures. Ex bought me a lil miniature Jack Russell a few years ago because I was in a mood and yeh I did the Paris Hilton thang, carrying the poor sod everywhere dressed in green dog clothing. I dont like her anymore though, Menai poor cow! I loved her like a fat kid loves cake then just dropped her and ignored her, just because shes too soft and whiney. Menai to a burglar - "Hi, c'mon in...yeh no problem sit down. Two sugars or one? OOOh got some luvverly carrot cake here, er' indoors has all that organic shite but its nice with a brew. Are you comfy? Yeh the keys to the car and the safe are over there...give me a minute and I'll get them for ya". Dogs are ace lol. Ourkid says that cats are intelligent, dogs are dumb. Cats are self-sufficient and dogs cant do jack shit..I asked him once, "How does a dog decide which direction its going to walk?" Now if a dog was dumb then why would it follow the scent of a scrap of meat or another dogs frontbum? Also a dog can sexually satisfy itsen...a cat can't so nerner. Canines are clever but modest..cats are selfish..stealing your breath in the night and waiting til your new sofa gets delivered from Arighi Bianchi, watches you unwrap the cellophane, even checks the invoice to make sure it cost a few quid then sharpens its fish encrusted claws on it...a dog would just be pleased for you. That all that overtime paid off and glad you would be stayin a lil' bit more and stroking its head whilst it flashed its bollocks at you in front of the fire.
There is a disturbing story that gave me a 5 second dislike for the canine...A man died in his house in my village. His dog started to eat him after only a week...hmm started on his face too. My papa tried to explain the starvation process of the said dog and how a lick of attempted revival turned into a taste for survival(OMG! what a line, how clever am I(and funny))
Im allergic to cats too which doesnt help really...Ourkid and his missus J have 3/4 cats..bleurgh!! One of them there cats tried to rape me on their bed..just wrong, very wrong(I wasnt even flattered). My family have always had dogs...but SOME of us went against the grain and got a penchant for cats YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE!
The baby noise shagging cats make turns my stomach..as does cat litter!?! and humanlike sachets of food they have...ewwww! A few years ago I had noticed that an aged lady had been leaving scraps of food outside my gate at the rear of my house and an abundance of cattys had descended. And so I left the odd bit of leftover food too. Ourkid asked me what I had been giving the cats and I told him chicken bones. He went mad and told me that I shouldnt. Cats can get a disease known as Treach from eating cold chicken bones. They can die! Obviously at age 24 Im used to his prankish ways and blags so I refused to believe him but he stuck to the Treach story and even told me to ring papa and check....it was confirmed and I was given a mild bollocking for nearly killing innocent animals....pure shite!!! Made it all up, there is no fucking treach and it was all planned lol...wish there was...pass the chicken....
Fucking cats lmao....

One Hump or Two?

Wales is one of my favourite places in the 'Isles. However, Rhyl is not on the top of my "places to visit" list for one reason and one reason only...the abundance of the Camel Toe. Many, many ladees wearing tight leggings and oversized tees plodding along the high street 12 babies in tow and the 'toe' on show does not appeal to me. Its seems to be one of the most toed up areas Ive ever been to. But I love Wales none-the-less.

Twisted fate of a pre-determined Oliver

...so yeh Fagan sent his boys out to steal 'kerchiefs and pocket watches. Got a collective together, enforced a strict but employee friendly training programme. Employee Bonuses were retaining some goods 'recovered' and bed and board and live music. Overall he had an urban massive outstanding in talent and standing against the 'potential clientele' that somehow had faired better in life than they.
Middleclassalike Twist was dragged into this business perchance...Creative Cobbled Street Cretins AKA theivin lil' council estate fuckers...until Sir Alec G strolled in and saved white untrash Oll' from a life of Burberry Jodphurs and DnG winklepickers..ah the life of a white middle Engerland boy.
And oh how the mighty fell when PikeySikey 'accidentally' hung himself from the rafter whilst the general public, you know the PubKneesUpIdol wannabes and the Strictly Come Dancing fans watched and cheered. "Good fucking riddance to filth that Sykes, was no good", they say throwing their shitty water out of their 8th floor 'apartment hi-rise and watching it land on a passerby before scurrying to the PO to cash their stolen benefit books on the way to selling tuppence apples and boxes of matches...
Now the point is this Who is being had over here? The velveteen suits with townhouses and candleabras, bells for dinner, bells for the maid, Bells with ice? Casual stroll to York York York and Sons Books on Blarney Street with chain watch and silk handkerchief in pocket, no harm done..but is then relieved of his vanities by the Artful Dodger (re-re-wind and the crowd say Bo selectoh) OR the young lads controlled by the "Avericious Old Fince" Fagan. Who are trained , skilled up, maxxed with bravery and cheeky whipsnapperish ways to stalk(whilst singin you understand)their prey and go in for the kill, relieving an innocent of his belongings??? We work, we pay taxes, we work harder want more, we pay more taxes. If we live in the 22nd worst area to raise our children we are discriminated against. we are offered cheap food at cut price and crappy clothing for the masses, even TV is aimed at the poor and at poor women. You cant win. But hey if you happen to be upper-middle class or middle - class then yehman its all gud, roses "who will buy my beautiful roses", long country walks with dogs trained to kill innocent wildlife, bugles and rules that are protected for the sole collective of the silver spoon massif...I cant be bothered writing anymore...I know what I mean lol
Well you know Dodge and Fagan had an object of desire and they went out and got that object of desire. Good old fucking Oliver was handed his silver service on a silver platter and like most of the middle-classes have not had to obtain something of desire with the determindeness and hardwork unlike those of 'less' status in society....Dont condone stealing but who then and today were the real magpies? Mcaw Mcaw!!!!!