Blowing, Sucking and Booby Jiggling

I been up the hospital for me tests and me photos. As soon as I got there I took mines clothes off. Mines Mr Husband said ' Put your clothes back on'. I said 'No- cos I am at the hospital and I have to take mines clothes off because the Dr wants to see mines chest and take a photograph'. He said 'Not in the car park he don't- and will you please stop draping yourself over the bonnets of cars. Now Cover that Kipper and Keep it warm'. When we got in the hospital he said 'Don't take your clothes off until the Dr asks you to'. Always pissing on my chips that man. I won't take him again there. Then when I was waiting they brought a dead looking person past. I said to the nurse 'Why are you bringing dead persons down here in the photo bit?' and she said 'She is not dead'. I poked her to make sure. She didn't move. So I tickled her toes. She didn't move. 'She looks a bit waxy to me -' I said to the nurse 'and she ain't be moving are you sure she ain't dead? -'. I put my hand over mouth to see if she was breathing. I seen that on the Telly to tell if someone is not dead yet. Then the bitch bit me. Not the nurse- the dead woman on the bed. Well she didn't bite. She didn't have teeth. But she did give me nasty suck. I said to the nurse 'you are right- she ain't dead -yet!' Then it was my turn to see the photograph woman and finally I was allowed to take my top off and stand in front of the machine. She said 'stop jiggling the boobs please'. I said 'I am not- it always happens when I take the over shoulder boulder holder off- they go in different directions like two wild jellies- here there and everywhere. Out of control'. Anyway when they eventually settled by me knees she took photographs. Then she sent me to the nurse to do me heavy breathing. I am good at that. I had to blow into a machine and don't stop. Just like when you have too much Baileys. She kept saying 'Blow- Don't suck'. I said 'I have always had trouble mixing up my blowing and sucking me dear- stick with it and don't give me a party popper or we will have trouble'. (Read the booky peoples, read the booky'). On the way out I asked the old man in the wheel chair if he want me to strip off to cheer him up. He said yes. So I did. He had a stroke. I have been asked not to attend again for safety of other patients. How Rude- What if I am ill?

Frolic in the bluebells

AT BETHS THIS WEEK

 Tuesday: Bob and me are off for a topless adventure this morning. Well depends on how warm it is. If it's not very warm Bob won't take his top off but I will. When I say adventure we are going to the Doctors. We like to go a couple of hours earlier for parking. Its very difficult to navigate Bob past the blood pressure thingymajig and the fish tank in the waiting room. I don't take no notice of that traffic warden woman at the desk- cleverly disguised as a receptionist. We also like to be early to make new friends. Other peoples waiting to see the Dr. I like to find out what ails them. See if they really need a Doctor or whether they just need to see the pharmacist. Or the hospital. Or the coroner. I like to think of myself as volunteer triage. All doctors surgeries need a patient like me- likes to help out. Could save the NHS thousands so we could. So I tell ye all this again- Be good and if ye can't be good- don't get caught!

Monday: Today was a lovely day- until Mines Mr Husband pissed on my chips. He said of a beautiful size 22 top I picked up 'that would be too tight on you babe I am afraid'. Afraid- be very afraid - the ultimate insult. The day got better after that- when I went to the harbour and found a nice man with a boat and a breeze block. Now I am filling out insurance forms. And here's a little message to the foreign bint for whom I wasn't walking fast enough for because you had to get to TKMAX before everyone else (Yes you with the thigh gap the width of the severn bridge and the slack Alice)- Don't push disabled people because they cannot walk fast enough- it's bad manners. I don't walk fast because I can't- Every inch of my body is pain every minute of the day and my hips and spine are arthritic. You spiteful wench. I hope your next shit is a hedgehog and I hope a thousand camel toes invade your armpits. You may behave like that in Manilla but we don't here in the UK. On the plus side Bob performed very well- so far so good- may keep him. Bob, Elvis and Beth could be coming to a town near you!!

Time for a Beths top tit. If you watch your tv programmes all through the day on the plus one channel you have gained an extra a hour because by the end of the day you would have forgotten your on the plus one channel.

Wednesday: Mines Mr Husband is taking me for a frolic in the blue bells. Bob is coming. We are having a threesome in the bluebells. Just hope there ain't no dog shit.

Thursday AM: Well we went to frolic in a capret of blue bells- only it was so much a carpet more of a rug- well a door mat. They are very sparse in our woods. And it wasn't so much of a frolic as a bit of hand holding- and I did sit on a log. Then Mines Mr Husband joined me. Mines Mr Husband kept saying 'Please keep your clothes on- someone might be watching you and you may get splinters in your Lulu. I said to him 'Well there be no point in getting naked in the woods if no one is watching- tis boring'. Tis true at that time of night tis mostly squirrels who do give you some funny looks when you gets naked. I said to mines Mr Husband 'getting naked in the woods ain't for everyone- especially men and especially with so many squirrels about- they be collecting nuts wholesale'. Mines Mr Husband said he would keep his hand on his because he didn't want to be digging them back up. I did see also a couple of bears in the wood- well I seen where they shitted. Behind the trees cos thats be where they go. Mines muvver told me that and she don't lie. Also I am sure I seen some crocodiles. Mines Mr Husband said 'we don't have crocodiles in the woods, especially in England'. I don't know how he knows this for sure. I am sure he tells me this so I won't get better photographs than him. I have planned to go to the woods by myself one day and see if I can get these photos and bring back the proof. Yes- then I shall piss on his apple pie and see how he likes it.

 Thursday : So my son rings me tonight and tells me my new car, Bob, is what is formally or even informally known as a 'hairdressers car'. That's ok by me. I was thinking of offering fringe mutilation. I mean trimming. Yes, trimming that's what I mean. Now who's first? Form an orderly queue and no fighting or bum pinching.

 Sunday: I had a message from a Bailey Carter last night to tell me I am an imbecile. It's a false profile by the seems of things but it made me laff. You imbecile it said. Anyways Bailey Carter, if you are reading this, whoever you are I just want you to know this: when people piss me off I usually put their name on a bit of paper in me knife drawer. However lately I realised there was more names in the drawer than knives. So what I did I threaded a bit of string through all said bits of paper and hung them in the lav. Every time I go I pick one to wipe me arse on. Yours is on the top. You're welcome!

 Friday: I complained to mines Mr Husband 'I never win the Euro Millions'- and true to form he pissed on me apple crumble right there and then and he said 'That's because you never buy a ticket'. So this is how he is - always nit picking over small details.

Been to see the Dr again. She had a spare appointment and I thought 'why not'. Stupid traffic warden (cunningly disguised as a receptionist) made a fuss about Bob being parked next to her table. I took no notice. Bob has to be kept in the warm and dry. I asked the Dr to take a look at my chest. She did. I didn't do the jiggly booby thingy. She doesn't like it. Anyways she spun me round three times so fast and pointed me in the direction of the hospital I felt sick. Me eyes were pointing in different directions and me eyebrows had swapped places. Also me knees are sore from mines boobies hitting them as we twirled round. The upshot is she says I have to go hospital on Monday for some tests (maybe I can jiggle my boobies them there! I do have to have a picture of them taken- this not for the first time but not usually by the hospital) and then she said 'Just keep being yourself Elisabeth'. (only she said Elisabeth with a 'Z' cos that's how she spells it). What kind of advice is that I ask thee? Who the fecking else can I be if not myself? And is it meant to be a cure? Curious indeedy that Dr.

Enjoy the weekend me ol babbers and I will catch thee soon.