Minge Fringe and Trim

My other friend, Big Pearl from Splatford Split (I know, don't laugh, she used to live Upper Ting Tong and before that up the Fanny Bridge area) came with us to the nail bar- she had her Minge fringe trimmed and now she got a fanny rash. I mean a funny rash. Damn autocorrect. Her husband, little Ted (yes really) big Ted's little brother (yes really- their mum liked the name Ted) he didn't want her to go. He don't like change don't little Ted. Tis true is that. They married for nearly 40 years and she only just got him to change his underpants. They did have to be sand blasted off after they broke the circular saw. Dirty Fecker is Little Ted. He thought it would change his view of her if she had the minge fringe trimmed. It did too. Now he don't be having her hair in his eyes when he goes between her legs to retrieve the Jack Russell. Tis true tis a Jack Russell they have- Little Ted thought it was a spaniel until Big Pearl had her Minge fringe trimmed. Little Ted is learning something new everyday just lately it seems.

Muff Buffing and Moth Balls

Ye must remember me telling ye yesterday about Dirty Gertie and her Vajazzle and the muff Buff (mine) and today we was supposed to go to get her muff sandblasted. Mines Mr Husband took me in Tesco instead. I tell ye, he will take me anywhere that man. No shame!. Tis true they don't do muff buffs in Tesco. But there was a couple in front of me at the checkout and they were having such an argument about whether she has bought the right top curtains I couldn't get a word in edgeways. No matter how I tried. All I wanted to do, after surveying the contents of her shopping trolley, was to let her know that the muff wash she had bought was loaded with chemicals. When I did manage to get a word in edgeways (I got her attention when I kicked her in the shin) I told her it was true- mines very own muff doctor told me not to use it. 'Loaded with chemicals' I tells her. 'Bleach, drain cleaner, Formahide, weed killer, moth balls- the lot',  I tells her I gave mine to mines mr Husband to wash his hair with (nothing goes to waste in this house I tell ye). He said he didn't fancy washing his hair with it but he would use it to wash the car with. So he did. Took a layer a paint off. Took the shine right off our car I tell ye. Well, well I be telling her all this she then turns around to look at me. She was a right minger. I takes one look at her and said 'forget I said anyfin me ol' babber, if yer face is owt to go by yer be needing yer muff sandblasting'. I gave her dirty Gerties number- they can go together on the second friday of the month tis always buy one, get one half price.

Vajazzled, Buffed Muffs and Sandblasting

Ye are probably all thinking I been quiet today. Well I been out with me mate Dirty Gertie- so named because- well I best not go there! Well she wanted to go to the new nail bar. I didn't want mine doing- I am practical and I have such things as housework to do. Only yesterday I had to strip off and do me shimmy-  ye know the vertical limbo and holding the boobies to get in me skinny bitch shower to clean it. Has to be done naked for practical reasons. Well I had to use the wire brush to scrub the crusty and mouldy cracks and grannies. Or words to that effect. Ye can't be having nice nails when ye have jobs like that to tackle!! Mines little sister (the one with the issues, constipation, accidental blue hair and part time camel toe (by her own admission)-) she got nice nails. I don't know how she gets on with her wire brush cleaning. Anyways I went with Gertie to the nail bar. After she had her nails done she went in the back room for a vajazzle. Well I was surprised cos she don't normally do jewellery but she wanted to surprise the butcher.  I am not keen on that either to be honest. Not surprising the butcher (I am all for that- tis usually the postman or the bin man here as ye all know)- but the vajazzle thingy- no I didn't fancy that. Un-hygienic if ye ask me.  But she did persuade me to go in for the muff buff. Gertie wanted her muff buffed as well but they said they couldn't do it. Apparently Sandblasting is strictly on Fridays. So we have to go again to-morrow. But I tell ye I am fair knackered now so I am going to have me kitty nap before I gets mines Mr Husbands dinner.

ZEN, 69, Wet and Naked!

So Last night Mines Mr Husband came home and asked why there is a naked plumber roaming round yer bedroom. 'How do ye know he is a plumber?' I asked him- 'Cos he got his pipe in his hand and looking dazed and confused muttering about O rings and gaffer tape' he said. 'What is he doing?' he asked again- 'Ye tell me' I says- 'you bis the one that seen him with his pipe in his hand'. 'He seems to be searching for something' he said. 'Looking for his clothes I expect', I tells him. Anyways mines Mr Husband is always pissing on my chips I tell ye. He made it his personal business to search for Ben not Zens clothes. I had scattered them far and wide-when he took his shoes off I said 'don't stop at ye shoes, we don't be havin' none of that clothes wearing business in this yer house'. I helped him out of them. He protested at first. I told him they were wet and wet clothes is bad for ye. He said they wasn't wet. So I put the hose on him. 'They are now me ol' cocker' I said. His under crackers ended up on her chimneypot at number 53- you know the family sized gateaux shaped one with the integrated bike rack- woman not chimney pot- come on now have ye ever seen a chimney pot with an integrated bike rack?- no I think not!!! Then having rounded up all the clothes, except his trousers- who knows where they ended up?- he gave them to Ben not Zen and told him he was free to go. Ben not Zen said he couldn't go until I had signed his docket (he had raised it specially for me!!) and rated him. I said he looked good wet and naked and was not bad at filling holes so I gave him a 69. Also slipped him me phone number- just in case me hole needs filling again!

Feeling Lumps and Filling Holes and Tighter Nuts

Well I had to wait for the plumber again today- as mines Mr Husband made a big fuss about me keeping the last one under the stairs. Ranted about Kidnap being illegal and poor chap turning blue blah blah. Then one we finds the boiler is still leaking through a little hole. This proves I should have been allowed to keep the other one. Although to be fair he did have a heart condition. I had to ring the nice plumber people and convince them to send me another. Well I am glad I did because they sent Ben- I could have sworn they said they were sending Zen. He mumbled about loose nuts. How rude I thought- he barely knows me. He started off by saying he only needed tighter nuts. Now I am expert in this field so I stripped immediately. Its the quickest solution for tightening nuts I know of. He seemed shocked. 'Put ye clothes back on pleeeassse', he begged. 'Well', I said to him 'I think the problem is me little hole wants filling'. Anyways I thought I will keep this one. Not making that mistake twice. Don't think I was using strong enough rope to start with because he managed to escape no less than 7 times. Slippery beast indeed!! I was going to keep him in the cupboard under the stairs but he is too nice for that. So I have left him in the bedroom- still tied up of course.  Later I might untie him and hide his clothes and let him roam about looking to see if any more little holes need filling!

Yesterday I went to see the Machoist. The neck lump doctor is his proper title it appears. True. Says that on me invitation to see him. They didn't have not a magazine to read in that waiting room. No siree. All they had was a copy of Mog the Cat. And a cover of an a Woman's Own magazine. It didn't take me long to read that from cover to cover I tell ye. Anyways it seems when ye are going to have a lump inspected in ye neck ye don't need ye best bra and knickers on. So I took them off. Apparently ye are not supposed to do that either. I thought he said he wanted to feel me in nymph mode- but apparently Mr Husband said he asked to feel my lymph node and he never once had mentioned stripping naked. I am sure he did though. I heard it said when I was staring at the doctor who looked like Colin Firth- I am sure he did. I thought this same thing happened when I accompanied mines little sister (the one with the issues, constipation, accidental blue hair, and part time camel toe) to the lumpy bum doctor. I wasn't supposed to strip off there either. But there ye goes- I could have sworn I heard the doctor say 'strip off'. Good job I had me best knickers on that day as well. I came over all necessary when he offered me his hand and said 'place that on the place ye needs me to feel'. Mines Mr Husband said 'He meant the lymph node- the lump- in ye neck- ye are rude woman'.

 On the plus side I saved a woman's life on the way home from the Machoist - yes true I did. ' Oh Lordy, Lordy Mind that woman on the crossing' I screamed at mines Mr Husband- oh my days he could have killed her! I am a heroine.

Twerking, Stripping and Stitching

Well I bet ye all thinking I lost me computer and can't be doing updates. Tisn't true if anyone tells ye this. I have been up to me neck. Mines little sister (NOT the one with the issues, constipation, accidental blue hair and part time camel toe (by her own admission)- the other one- her house burnt down - true it did. We have been helping her. That was on a Tuesday. Then on this Tuesday we had to take mines mother to  A&E to have her hand stitched together- she didn't want them stitched together but she kept putting her hands in her pockets and skipping and T'was getting dangerous at her age. I tell ye I fast be going off Tuesdays - tis a shame cos Tuesdays is orange and tis my favourite day. Apart from Saturdays which is my loud music and naked dancing day.

We sat all the afternoon in that darn hospital waiting and waiting. All they had for entertainment was a screen with information about vegetables. People in Bridgwater don't do vegetables. They should have had some burger and chips adverts or a couple of adverts on coke (ye can decide for yeself which sort!). I told ye receptionist 'come on woman, tis an emergency mines mother have had an accident and it wasn't her fault'. She said 'Take a seat and I will get someone to come and help ye fill out a claim form'. How annoying. 'Beggar off', I said, 'she be needing stitching first'. T'was true there weren't many people in that room at first but did soon fill out. T'was boring. So I stood up and said 'let's play I spy'. They all looked at me like I was gaga. Three foreign teenagers didn't know what I was saying. I am not any good at foreign. So I just poked each of them in the eye with a pen so they got the hang of it. 'I spy', I said loudly, 'with my little eye, something beginning with N'. Everyone looked around. 'Nurse' shouted someone one. Everyone jumped up and tried to follow the nurse. She hid in the loo and wouldn't come out until we bribed her with chocolate. Anyways I told them it wasn't nurse- T'was Numpty- T'was the man who came in with his boxers round his ankles. Can ye believe it he tried to shimmy up a drain pipe like that- or down. Couldn't hear all he was saying. He said his father was a boxer. I said ' don't tell me, ye mother was a poodle'.  Anyways the I spy was a washout. So then I skipped around the waiting room singing 'she'll be coming round the mountain when she comes'. I tried to get them all to join and do a conga. Apparently they can't do it without the Agadoo music and the receptionist said she only had Green Sleeves. I said 'that will teach ye not to lay on the grass in the lunch hour with the gynaecologist'. She said that that wasn't funny- she was only showing him her spot. Ooo-er Missus.

Then I organised a game of pass the parcel- first prize was a do it yeself stitch kit. Pity mines mother never won that- she couldn't have done with that.  The runners up prize was a do it yeself plaster of Paris kit for a broken leg. Ironic I thought that was as a runners up prize. Shame the old man that couldn't breathe won that- he could have done with some oxygen.

When he came in I could tell straight away he was an old pervert. 'Look mother', I says 'Its an old pervert'. She looked 'How do ye know that he is an old pervert?' she asked. 'Well', I tells her, 'listen to his heavy breath- he be one of thems  that breaths heavy down the phone to thee'. She thought about this for a split second. Then she got quite excited. 'Oooo-er', she said 'scribbling her phone number on an old tissue she had been blowing her nose on and mopping up blood with intermittently, 'give him my number' she instructed So I did. Also gave him mines little sisters numbers. T'wasn't easy I tell ye. His wife was trying to push me off. That was when the fight broke out. Then the doctor came round and ask me what was I doing. I told him he was an ol pervert- the ol' man with the heavy breathing not the doctor- although the Dr was a bit dishy so I reckon I could have perverted him. Anyways the Dr said that the old man was not a heavy breather or a pervert. He was having a asthma attack. I ask ye, how the feck was I supposed to know??

Then I got the receptionist to find some music- then I did me stripper routine. Tisn't easy ye know to do that to Space Odyssey. There were a couple of strokes and a couple of near misses. I heard someone gasping rapidly. Twas the old geezer with the asthma. Mines mother said ' Get yeself down off that desk and behave theself'. All i was trying to do was liven things up. Peoples feeling bad wants a bit of entertainment to take thems minds of things. Mines mother said she agreed but that poor bloke with the broken leg tried to run away when I did mines twerking up against him (tis the rules of twerking)- then he fell over and broke the other leg. Cue the man with the plaster of Paris kit. 'See', I said 'bit of community spirit tis all it needs'.

Anyways mines mother is all stitched up and I am not allowed back in A&E even if it is an emergency. I shall have to get mineself a stethoscope and go and disguised as a doctor.