Testicles for sale, Sex at ninety and Whipping.

Well I expect you all be thinking I been quiet. I been to the dentist this week. On Wednesday that was it.  (Not mines Mr Husband. He don't believe in such things as dentists or God or other such mysteries. Even on that day that he was 55 years and one week old.) Yep, that dentist she sure knows how to shut me up! I was grateful today that she got so obsessed with that feckin lump in me neck- I know- lumps in necks not really her field, but failed doctors and all that. I think she thought it might be a root from me tooth. I told her 'the doctor said its me nymphnode- it gets bigger and painful when I be poorly or stressed. And you be stressing me out with sticking all them sharp things in mines mouth and poking mines gums'. Smacked me nose on the ceiling a couple of times and bit her three times. And she washed the chair before I got in it (i think- t'was wet. Could have been old lady peed her pants- but I prefer to think she washed it down specially for me)- then it looked like I had peed me pants when I got out. Anyways I got clean teefs, all buffed up and varnished -ooer go me- like Rylan Clarkes now. Also she is writing to a masochist specialist bout me lump cos she don't like it. So why ye be grateful Beth I hear ye say? I be grateful cos she didn't notice I cut me fringe with the nail scissors before I went cos I am too mean to pay 50p to have it cut. Sadly mines mother noticed but didn't like to say anything! Well she did say if you paid 50p to have that fringe cut my girl I would ask for 49p back!

Tuesday t'was like this : I was laid there on floor when Mines Mr Husband came in. 'What ye doing down there mines little pickled parsnip and why are ye writhing like a beached a whale and pulling a face like ye sucking a sherbert lemon?' See now I don't have a house with a mirror on the ceiling I don't know what I look like. 'I be doing mines pelvic floor exercises- ye have to exercise ye pelvis on the floor', I tells him. 'But why?', the nosy bugger asked. 'So we can have sex at ninety' I tells him 'do ye not want sex at ninety?'. He didn't have to think about the answer to this. He said 'Of course I do, as long as someone else is driving cos it be dangerous otherwise'. Then he asked 'why are ye thrashing about, up and down?'. He bloody inquisitive that man. 'I am practicing pelvic thrusting for the hairpin bends', I told him. 'Ye don't need to worry about that he said', ye already have a grip like a bulldog clip and the hairpin bends will be of no danger to us'. I told him 'tis important, many an old person gets a bit of whiplash when having sex at ninety' (I greatly suspect- I have seen them in supermarkets having a job to stand up straight to get the peaches off the top shelf) 'and I don't want thee to have whipped lash or cream because I haven't done me exercises. He has now gone off to the other room for some sleep he said. Sex at ninety indeed- he gets exhausted thinking about it at 55.

On Thursday the day began like this :

Mines Mr Husband came into find me totally naked. He said 'Ooooer- sexy. You is completely naked- not even got your socks on- I like'. I told ye he be a nosy bugger. 'That mines husband', I said to him, 'is because this is because I am in the bath and this is how I gets in the bath- completely naked'. Then he wandered off muttering about how I should then put some water in the bath and it would all make more sense. Can't mind his own for five feckin minutes he can't. Then we went and photographed a kingfisher. So excited I was I nearly peed me pants.

Friday I discovered ye can get $35.000 for just one testicle. I don't know if ye has to give ye own- if this is so I am buggered. But if not I am currently making a list of ones I can donate. So don't feck me off or I can add ye to the list. Mines Mr Husband has been walking round with his in his hand just incase.

Today Mines Mr Husband says to me 'what ye doing little pickle? Why are ye searching Amazon now?' I told ye he be a nosy bugger. 'I am preparing for a chemical attack' I tells him. 'Why are we having beans for tea? I am going to be at work tonight so I will do all me chemical attacking at work'. Tis true his arse can be lethal if ye happens to get down wind of it. 'Ye won't be needing plastic sheeting, duck tape, wind up radios and whistles little pickle' he says. 'Oh ye are a daft arse (even if a smelly arse)', I says to him. 'I am preparing in case they Dayesh launch a chemical attack- they are mad feckers thems and I been reading about it'. I know he thinks I am bonkers but he won't when I gets me duck tape and me whistle out and chase him to the our designated safe place- specially chosen by moi- tis our bedroom. He will be safe in there I shall see to it personally.

That be it. What ye mean is that all? Well ye can always buy me little book The Three Little Pigs a Westcountry Tale for Adults- Go to Amazon and find me or go through me blogs and read thems all again.

Something Fishy for his Birthday.

On behalf of mines Mr Husband I want to thank ye all for the birthday messages, hugs, kisses and cards. He is touched. Really he is touched. Been trying to get him certified. He was 55 this year. Did I actually mention how old he was? Yes he is 55. Last night after tea he went to bed early- because he was falling asleep on the sofa - 'this is what happens' I tell him when ye become an old person. We didn't even party the day before. Although I did wrap him up in a tartan blanket and walked him around Lyme Regis and Brixham. T'was a cold day. I was worried about the incontinence- his not mine. I Had to buy him some chips and cheese for his dinner. He lost his teeth over the breakwater wall so he had to suck his chips.  On our travels on Mines Mr Husbands birthday- he was 55 ye know- did I mention that? we found three dead animals. I have no idea what they were- they were unidentifiable. Bit squished to be honest with you. He wouldn't let me bring them home. He said he didn't want squished animals for his birthday. I did manage to find him a nice trainer shoe. He needs new ones. I just need another now and he will have a pair. Then when we was down the harbour I found him a nice seal but it was still alive and a proved a bit of a bugger to catch. Then I found him a fish. T'was already dead- 'tis a trout for ye', I said with much pleasure. 'Tis a shark' he cried. Ye never seen a harbour empty so fast in all ye life. He could have had it to go with his chips to have a little suck on. But nope- he made me leave it there- but I took this picture of it - will have it framed for him. A memento of a grand day with an ol' man on his birthday. (He was 55- I might not have told ye that).

Then we had cake when we got home - least he didn't need his teeth for that. Then I gave him the bumps. Well cos of me dodgy hip, and T'was just us two so I couldn't lift him do it by meself. So I stood him on a chair, and pushed him off 56 times- 55 for his birthday and one for good luck. And a few more times besides because I have to admit I was enjoying myself - 'a bit too much' he said for his liking. Well ye can get carried away. I think I just lost count. I am not good with numbers. I pointed out he will be 60 next. He says we don't age in increments of 5years- whaaaaaat? He has been an old man since birth. He was born wearing a cardigan and slippers and he never had a dummy- he had pipe. Tis true is that- I have seen his baby pictures. Anyway he says I am to thank ye all from his bottom. He is 55. Did I mention that???

P.S. He says that should read bottom of his heart - not his bottom.x

55 and Counting, Bumps and Wet Fish

Well today is the day. Mines Mr Husband has reached the grand old age of 55. To be honest he nearly didn't after last night. He washed up the cups and then turned off the kitchen light and shut the door because we was on the way to bed. Tis his little ritual. Then I asked 'did ye empty the bowl of washing up water?'- tis an annoying little habit he has of leaving a bowl of dirty washing up water. Remember I said he sometimes gets on me piggin nerves? Well this is one thems things. Anyway his answer was this 'not yet, just in case ye might want to do some washing up!' he said making his way back in the kitchen to empty the bowl. At this time of feckin night really?? 'Well ye have turned the light off and shut the door and we are off to bed', I pointed out. Then he said 'well even YOU are capable of opening a door and putting a light on'. That man sure knows how to get my dander up sometimes. So I reminded him that I am the one who will be giving him the bumps for his birthday so he should be careful what he says to me. (Well he be too heavy for that now and I got a dodgy hip so I am going to get him to stand on a chair 55 times and then I am going to push him off.) This was just after he started counting the stars. He started counting the stars just after I slapped him with a wet fish. Salmon nonetheless because we are posh here. Well it wasn't wet. Oily. And it was still in the tin. You would think at the grand old age of 55- yes 55 he would have learned to duck be now. As I left the kitchen I told him- put the light out and shut the door on ye way up to bed and don't get up in the middle of the night and put the extractor fan on like ye did the other night. HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY OLD MAN!!!

Coming through the letter box............

IF ye thinking ye haven't seen me much well, tis true ye haven't. I have been busy- knitting. Yep knitting. What the feck are ye knitting? I hear ye cry. Well I am knitting a dolly for a little person. Despite following the pattern its seems I be knitting a little person. Unless the pattern is wrong- that could be it. Yeah- I bet that is it. Still I will motor on until it be finished. We had a lot of trips to wool shops. Well they not be made of wool- they just sell wool. Tis a very tricky job picking the right wool for this job. Mines Mr Husband isn't very interested in wool so he wanders off and examines googly eyes and such stuff. I found some baby knitting patterns- 'lets make a baby' I called across to him at the googly eye department. 'What in here?' he called back. 'Is that allowed in a wool shop?' Old ladies were gasping and one came all over unnecessary and another peed her pants. Well she may have done that before she went to the wool shop - I don't know. I waved the baby patterns at mines Mr Husband across the way. 'Look', I said ignoring the assistant have a little flap in the middle of the shop at the thought of me and mines Mr Husband making a baby in her shop, 'look', I says to him 'we can knit one or even purl one or both. T'will cut out the messy bits of baby making'. Phew- sighs of relief all round the shop. T'was the very way mines Mr Husband came into this world he assures me 'I was knitted and pushed through a letter box' he has told me on many occasions. I told him that I can tell that this is the Gods honest truth because whoever knitted his face dropped a stitch (or two) and his ears have been sewed on up side down. T'is the only reason I can think for his deafness.  And I can only but guess his little squashed bits are where he came through the brushes in the letter box. He agrees he was a bit of a mess but argues ye should see his sister- she was made up of the oddments. I have warned him mind you- 'any trouble from you me ol' cocker'- I said to him 'And I shall unpick thee and make a tea cosy and a pair of socks out of thee'. Tis how I keep him under control. Well I have to be off now me ol' babbers. I got another leg to knit!

Up The Muff

Mines Mr Husband took me up the Muff yesterday. We haven't done that for a while- and we had to get stuff done. T'was very wet and wild and I ended up with backache. Also Mines Mr Husband is getting too old to cope with wet and wild. Personally I like the Muff when tis wet and wild. Although tis true the tide was out. Then Mines Mr Husband took me in the chip shop. I Tell ye- he will take me anywhere that man. I was allowed to choose the table. 'Choose a table' he said. I chose a nice sturdy one away from people- I haves me dignity don't ye know. Plus its been so long since I been out I am not in a people person mood. Not only but also but I tries to keep Mines Mr Husband away from peoples (for thems own safety) after a night shift. Lets just say he is not a people person after a night shift- especially an unexpected night shift. In fact he is less person and more sort of bear with sore head. Anyways I chose a table away from people but near the window so I had a nice a view of the 'Everything is a £1' shop. Now MMH is expecting me to apologise to the holiday making woman from Birmingham (I ask ye, who goes on holiday to the Muff in January- get a grip holiday makers - we don't want ye down yer in January- we have to psyche up to ye visits- especially if ye are coming from Birmingham!)- yep apologise. Well ye did get on mines tits with ye incessant chatter whilst I was being taken in the chip shop. I told ye I am not a peoples person. And that my little brummy friend is how ye ended up head first in the deep fat fry. No apologies. Please don't be a coming yer again in January and try to engage me in small talk in my corner of the chip shop, specifically chosen away from peoples, whilst I be being taken. Tis bad mannered of thee.

Bust Thrust, Naked Dancing, Tits and Tea

Been up since early checking the New Years Honour List for mines name. Seems they have forgotten to put it on. I am sure I should be on there for my services to writing or genealogy or naked dancing, or services to the tits or something. Mines Mr Chunky Nuts says that the Queens secretary writes to you. I think it is because I have moved house. They have lost track of me. Its the tax office debacle all over again. Talking of which I see several tax peoples have had medals this year- I don't know what for- they always be losing people. And they didn't deport me to the Seychelles like I asked. I am always amazed by that list and the amount of people they have to order to Bath- (see the ORDER OF THE BATH). There must be some really dirty feckers out there. Glad see mines Brother wasn't on the list- but in fairness he did have a shower last year- no, I know not by choice but he did get one. Some of thems people on that NYH list surely don't need a medal - someone in Wales got a medal for services to Welsh Lamb (peculiar that one); Someone got a medal for Clay shooting target practice; someone got a medal for services to Hockey- Hockey of all things; one for services to the community of Lympsham in Somerset- I am dumbfounded- there only be three feckin houses. Ye drive though and miss it if ye should blink. And one for services to prisoners (another very curious one- all sorts spring to mind). Barbara Windsor got one for 'thrust the bust' scenes in movies and for slapping Pat Butcher (but she was asking for it)- and Jacqueline Gold founder of Anne Summers for rendering services- just that- rendering services. Plus ol' Liz at Buckingham Palace was particularly thrilled this year with the new hands free vibrator (and she wasn't the only one- read my book) and ol' Charlie was thrilled with the new design of Pink Poly Bags that the goods from Anne Summers arrives in. They are a nice fit over the ye old nags head- not just during sex, but during mealtimes and tv hour as well. And well done I must say to those who got awards for Scottish Country Dancing (tis true they did), the bloke who got one for services to the Gentleman's Night Out (organising piss ups for posh people- also true), and my favourite is Jane Pettigrew who had a medal for services in the Production of Tea (not coffee- it didn't get not any mention at all) but Tea- it solves a multitude of problems and keeps I upright for most of the day. So that one was well earned. I will have to check through again for mines name- it is obviously there- its just too early in the day for me to see it.

New Years Din and Gin...............

A little New Years ditty I did write for all ye hungovers peoples!

T'was the morning after the night before

And not an adult was yet stirring

For they had all been celebrating New Year

And they had drunk far too much

All their heads were sore to the touch!

All the kids were lively, more lively than ever before

So little Susie, Little George and Tiny Jimmy

Started Dropping tins and spoons upon the floor!

'Play with me Mummy, Play with me Daddy-

You be the good guy and I'll be the Baddy'.

Poor Mummy, Poor Daddy.

'Go Away Susie, Go Away George and take little Jimmy,

Leave us in peace, Watch the Telly,

Watch Shaun the Sheep and little Timmy'.

So off they trot and T.V on they put,

Loud and Crisp and Clear,

Loud enough for all the street to hear!

For at last nights party the T.V remote did disappear.

T'was fat Uncle Matt who sat upon the cat

After too much cake and beer

And now the remote was stuck up right up his crack.

All the mummies and all the daddies

How they tossed and turned and moaned and groaned

'OH gawd me head, me head'

And all the children cried

'Oh mummy, Daddy - are you dead?'

They poked, they prodded, tickled and slapped

Poor mummy and daddy to rouse

'Don't leave us alone in the house'.

They shouted and laughed and they screamed and they clapped

Til slowly rose mummy and then grumpy dad.

The room it whirred round and round

Until it looked like, just overnight, the kids had multiplied.

'My stomach is turning oh far too fast and My head is doing much the same- I think I am on a fairground ride'.

'And me, and me' in unison the kids all cried

'I want a fairground ride'.

All day they were sent to play with their toys

'And don't ye going making too much noise-

George don't bang that drum and Susie please not the bell,

And Jimmy don't cry- ye are the baby from hell'.

By the end of the day T'was all wearing thin.

The kids were exhausted and all were done in.

Tucked into their beds three sleepy heads.

But Mummy and Daddy was sure they had six.

Now feeling better to Daddy Mummy Said

'Oh Bert, Never Again'

Said Daddy to Mummy

'There still some drink left, lets not quit'

And he handed her a tonic - laced with some Gin.

©Elisabeth Lucas