Showers, Bushes and Black Forest Gateau

 

Mr W stood at the corner of reception. His chest puffed up, his arms folded and a look of consternation upon his weary fizz hog. (Look at me using big words at 4am. It's the only time my brain works overtime-not that Fizz Hog is a big word). This look, this posture, is one few see. Me, and probably my step boys Jay and Julz are familiar with it when we are in for chastisement. Only now they are grown up and don't chastised (well not by Mr W at any rate) and I just tell him to fcuk off. But not so the customer he lay in wait for. Well not so much a customer as so much as a sneaker inner. She sneaked in the night before too so she did, eagle eyed as I be I spotted her. I reported her but Mr W ignored me. 'You are too nosy by half and too suspicious' he chided. 'Look' I reminded him, 'murderers wouldn't get caught if it weren't for curtain twitchers like me. We are an important tool in the armoury of the local police force'. He said ' she was carrying a bag of rubbish, looking for a bin that is all, hardly makes her a serial killer, thank you Miss Marple'. Its true she was carrying a sack of rubbish as she sneaked through our barrier. 'Yea' I said, 'but she was dragging it and those three men were helping lift the bag into the bin'. He said 'enough Miss Marple, enough'. 'Fcuk off ' I said. 'She has criminal tendencies I tell thee'. And now here he is 24 hours later laying in wait, ready to pounce on the sneaker inner. Peter Boss, is sat at home with Fi Fi Boss having supper and he spots the same woman on his fancy pants camera, strolling across the car park to use our facilities. He alerted Mr W, who then alerted me. I was privileged to be alerted and to see the footage that Peter Boss had captured on his fancy pants camera because I had had my current view of the car park blocked by Mr W in that moment. No doubt he was hoping that I wouldn’t be surveying the car park for potential murderers or body dumpers. 'That's her, that's her from last night who dumped the body in the bin' I enthused. 'Well, well well', he said, hesitating, 'I can't go bursting into the female facilities now can I to catch her?' 'Well you have two options' I proffered. 'You can borrow one of my frocks and one of Mr Raymonds wigs, or you can just identify as Marjorie today. It is the era of woke shite where you can identify as whatever you like'. His face crumpled and he said 'no I think not'. 'Or' I continued 'being of the same persuasion as said intruder (as far as we know- well I know about me- I just didn’t know for certain about the intruder) I can enter the female facilities all legit and shit'. This was acceptable as solutions go it seems. He went to the car park to check method of entry (car park) and block exit (car park), Peter Boss abandoned his supper to race over and I went off to the shower block. I just burst the door open and I detected that said intruder was showering. I shouted above the shower 'I found her Sarj, she is in here. Naked and showering she is. I have her trapped' I yelled. I assumed at this point she was naked- I mean who does that shit with their clothes on? You do? Oh- well do forgive my ignorance, Anyways you never heard someone end a shower so quick in your life as did said intruder. Then I went to the car park to reveal my findings to Mr W where he was carrying out his own investigations. 'That's her car parked up the road. German number plates. She must be German' he said all proud of himself and shit. 'Well deduced Mr Watson' I congratulated. 'She won't be long, I spooked her. She knows we are onto her. She has to be stopped. Bloody Germans sneaking over borders. This is how Poland got invaded in 1939.' Mr W said 'It blinking was as well, I didn't know you knew that'. 'I did do O'level history you know. I got a not so fabulous grade U'. If they had only asked that one question about how the war started about Germans sneaking over borders (or car park barriers in this case) I would have got an A. I took up my position on the opposing corner to Mr W and hid behind a bush. I peered periodically to check the German intruder was on her way. I spotted her headed into our trap. I did thumbs up to Mr W to let him know she was on the way. He didn’t thumbs up back- he was in position and those arms needed to be folded across the puffed out chest for effect. As she reached my bush I held my breath. I now know how Fi Fi's Fu Fu feels know when she is waiting to pounce on some unsuspecting pecker. Only, the German woman then turned the opposite corner to peer around the other bush to see if Mr W was home having tea. Cheek. It was clear the night before, because she was left to wander unchallenged, she checked us out good and proper. Then she turned and started towards the barrier that she had earlier sneaked across, strolling she was all confidently like she was here all legit and shit. Mr W never flinched from his stance, still puffed up and arms crossed and his face was practicing his best Paddington hard stare. He had me fooled. As the German intruder went to walk past Mr W he pounced and started to interrogate her, his torch in her eyes. 'Switch the torch on' I yelled from behind my bush. 'Is that your car?' he asks. She said 'Yoh, vat is meen car'. He said 'well get in it, and go and don't come back. This is private land'. At this point she became very animated and her arms flailing about and she said 'von campen, von campen'. Mr W was unimpressed, his arms stayed put across the puffed up chest and he repeated what he had said ’Get in your car, go and don’t come back’. She could see he wasn't to be trifled with. 'Von Campen' she repeated as she walked away. 'Von campen'. I thought, ‘good, now my turn’so I shoute after her 'Ve von zee var and zee vomens football' Vor Sprung Tecnik, Spracken de doitch and black forest gateau'. I threw all the German I knew at her. As she drove off Mr W said 'What the hell was all that you just said?' 'All the German in my vocabulary' I offered proudly. 'Why the hell were you shouting black forest gateau? We wanted her to leave, not stay for fcuking supper'. To be honest I thought he was a tad harsh, I thought I done good. I think she understood me better than she understood him. You have to talk to these people in their native tongue.Then Peter arrived and Mr W regaled his sorry tale. Then Peter patted Mr W on the back and went back to his supper. Mr W said later 'I don't think she understood what I said, and I didn't understand a word of what she said'. 'Well’, I told him, ‘As you know my German is rusty but she said “yes that car is mine and I am going camping” so I think she understood perfectly well what you said. And what your mouth didn’t say your face did.' He looked at me in amazement. He said he never knew I understood German. 'Good old google translate’ I thought. ‘Never lets me down'. Apple Strudel! To the pip! P.S.- I am very good at Paddington when my German lets me down.

 

Treats, Quality Sausage and Whipping my Nae Nae.

Mines Mr Husband took me up the muff for a treat. We had a quality sausage up the café. You know how I feel about quality sausage. Never have anything less. Also tis a nice Café. Posh. The first thing you see is when you open the door is the best cake on the planet. Well the best cake up the muff. Mines Mr Husband made me sit right up the back of the café so I wouldn’t drool over the cake. He told me I had to eat all my sausage before I could have cake. I sat there still looking at all the peoples all down the café (tis a long café). I was worried they would eat all the cake before I had finished partaking of my quality sausage. So when Mines Mr Husband left me unattended for a minute or two I stripped off, climbed on the table, grabbed the nearest light fitting and swang through the café singing wrecking ball. The café cleared in seconds apart from the old geezer in the corner. He tried to have a stroke. I was just getting round to whipping me nae nae and who should appear to piss on me beans but Mr Husband himself. He was cross and said I couldn’t have cake if I didn’t come down. In the end we struck a deal- I would only come down if I got cake. He had to relent and  I had a cake that had icing and inch thick and I am still on the ceiling. I am typing this with my nose.

Anniversary Surprise and White Sharks

Mines Mr Husband: ‘What are you doing pickled pudding?’

ME: ‘Writing down some ideas for Wedding Anniversary surprise for mines muvver and favver. They need cheering up’.

MMH: ‘Let me see’. (Takes my list only yet half done)…. ‘Mmm- I am not sure about this list’ then he starts to read it back- like I didn’t know what I had written but then he put a question mark into all the suggestions:

Wing Walking? Parachute Jump? White water Rafting? Abseiling or bungee jumping (ask their preference)? Sky diving? Segway rally? (ask about dodgy hips) Power boat thrill? Extreme dodgems? Snowboarding? Roll them down a hill in a big see through ball? (Posh people call it zorbitting), Race car thrill?’ He then says ‘Well you just take them for a drive – that will do it’- then he got to the bit Swimming with white sharks and he gasped. ‘Swimming with white sharks? What made you think of that? Do you really, really think they would want to do that? Really?’ I tells him ‘well they liked it at Tropiquaria a couple of years back’. He said ‘Well they didn’t swim with white sharks there and all the fish and whatnot were behind glass in big tanks. They didn’t get in and swim did they?’ I said ‘well, no, tis true but mines favver put his hand in the ‘experience the sea pond thingy’ and touched a star fish’. He said it was hardly the same thing (I beg to differ) and was dangerous. I said ‘mines muvver and mines favver live for danger’. He said ‘I don’t think so- what are you trying to do- wasn’t giving them your deadly flu enough?’. I said ‘I think you will find you gave them your deadly flu!’. He said ‘I think some flowers and chocolates would be better and safer whilst your mum is waiting for her heart thingy’. See what I mean about him. Now he wants to piss on their cornflakes as well.

Nice Xmas, Beards and Santa.

Sooo back to work today for everyone- although mines Mr Husband has not been home yet because the big fat slimy granny murdering bastard who buys his wife aftershave for xmas and steals other peoples promotions from under thems nose is a giant prick. (Note here he hasn’t been near work for almost a fortnight- although in fairness he is probably helping her in doors with her beard). I am pleased because Jumping Jerk Flash, (aka Billy Banana no friends my next door idiot) is gone back to work- I keep going out and walking up and down the drive just because I can without the idiot popping up from behind the wall to scare me half to death. Today is the day when everywhere you go (and indeed the rest of the week) when everyone says ‘Did you have a nice xmas?’- and everyone says ‘yes, quiet. And you?’ (Not really caring if you did or not). Nobody says ‘Well not really- I over ate to keep up with Santa, I am up to debt in my neck and have to go bankrupt  because the kids would have suffered enormously (in my mind and to ease my conscience) if I hadn’t of bought them everything their little hearts desired’. Or ‘it was too painful for me because no-one wanted me cos I am a miserable fecker’. Or ‘No- we had aunty Violet again- she sat in the corner sucking on a lemon and farting every three seconds and blaming the cat and filling our room with an aroma of old lady and rich tea biscuits’. Or ‘I didn’t get anything I wanted for xmas- I am so pissed off with everybody’. Yes Guys I am sooo glad I don’t go to work! Of course I have to go to the shops- and we all know the till staff are trained to ask ‘Did you have a nice Xmas’- and I will say ‘Quiet, and You?’ And then she will say ‘Yes’- Now can you please get off the conveyer belt and put your clothes on. Something along those lines. I get that every time I do a shop these days. Some people have no sense of adventure.

Happy New Year, Hot Glass and Hot Top Tits 2019

 What you all been waiting for here are few Beths hot top tits for 2019.

Don’t say you hope for a better year this year- make this year better for yourself. You have to put the effort in for change- yeah- really- so get off yer arse and get about it.

 Follow your dreams- don’t follow mine- you can only but imagine what happens in mine- they are weird!

Ditch the dumb ass and the waste of space-you don’t want that hanging round yer arse like a wet nappy forever and a day.

Make your life worth living and make yourself count. I don’t mean sheep and I don’t mean get yourself an abacus or take up maths-maths is for nerds. You only need be able to count slices of cake- i.e. 1. 1 very large one.

 Do something out of the ordinary. Run naked round town or along the sea wall. Ask a complete stranger to do a willy wave at you- or better still ask for his address. Only if he is hot to trot though.

 Don’t  step on hot glass because I tried this in 2018- it’s horrible.

If you are intending to move house this year, find the one you like, mark your territory- pee on the doorstep. It works. (Tested and proven  by yours truly).

Dance in the rain, and the snow and the sun and sing loud- sing –a- long with Beth and Elvis and Bob topless  if you like. Although Bob don’t do topless in the water- his knob gets soooo cold as it is.

Don’t wait for someone to visit you- visit them. Maybe they can’t get to you very easily. Maybe they got a dodgy hip or no toes. I know someone with no toes. It’s a pobble.

Don’t be hard on someone because they are not doing what YOU expect and don’t be hard because they didn’t bring you a gift. You have no idea what other people are going through. (Could be bankruptcy- some of us will).

And remember pamper youself and take time for youself. It’s ok to be everything to everyone- but not at the cost of your health. The world is running out of straight jackets.

Remember the 2^nd of January is baby making day. Get in there my friends- unless you don’t want a baby- in this instance you have pancake day to look forward to!

Now go get sober and get theeself down to the Dunelm sale – I hear bath mats are on offer.