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??
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.
