Diary of a Naive Woman (aged 39 and three quarters)

Diary of a Naive Woman (aged 39 and three quarters)

The Following are fictional extracts from the Diary of a Naive Woman living in Rural Leicestershire aged 39 and Three Quarters.


Doobyscoo

The Following are extracts from the Diary of a Naive Woman living in Rural Leicestershire aged 39 and Three Quarters.

FRIDAY 28th September 2007

Woke today feeling a little fragile, Clarry our domestic "man maid" was ever so good and popped out to the chemist and fetched me some "resolve", bless him.

Yesterday was quite busy really, Mummy popped round and we did some charity work which involved parcelling up toys into shoe boxes which we tied with pretty ribbons to send to poor children. It wasn't long before we had run out of shoe boxes, so Mummy sugggested we went into town for some more.

It actually turned out a bit expensive, between us we had to buy 36 pairs of Milano Blahniks and 12 pairs of Jimmy Choos. Can't compalin tho, it is for charity after all. At least I've got some decent travelling shoes now.

Other good news, I got a lovely card from that dishy priest we met on holiday. Think hubby was a bit jelous as it was only addressed to me. (Note to self, must not have inappropriate thoughts about a man of the cloth).

Hubby has gone off to play golf, Think Clarry was a bit miffed cos he usually caddies, but hubby was playing with that nice Mr Branson from down the road., he's super rich and has one of those nice electric golf carts. To keep Clarry busy I asked him to clean the car, I just hope he makes a better job of it than his valet service on holiday, that hire car was filthy! Anyway once he's finished I've got a spot of hoovering needs doing upstairs.

Ahh well, feeling a little less fragile, the resolve must be kicking in. Think I'll grab a quick cuppa before Jeremy Kyle comes on.
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The only one whose been hung out to dry is poor old cuddle cat

Saturday 29th September 2007

Was a bit late getting up this morning, hubs has already skipped out to play tennis. Just as well, we aren't speaking at the mo. MEN!!!!! they can be so insensitive. Last night I told him that i was still feeling a bit fragile, to which he replied "yeah fragile as a newt" which i thought was a bit mean. The whole thing ended up in a blazing row and he was sent off to sleep in the west wing guest room.

Clarry is still sulking too. I've sent him off to the recycling bottlebank with this weeks empties. That should keep him busy for the next few hours.

More post came from Portugal this morning, I could smell the incense even before the postman pushed it through my box, arent priests persistant! He says he misses our sessions in the confessional and when will I be returning to Portugal. I've already busted 3 sets of Rosary beads thinking about that. Mind you, it can't be easy for him at the moment, he tells me he's having trouble with dogs sniffing and howling round the church yard.

I stashed the letter in the boot of my car, not sure I want the hubster to find this one.

Hubby's out all night this evening. He's meeting up with Esther, his pension advisor. She's been busy all week so they are meeting at the Leicester Stakis Hotel at 8pm. Rather than disturb me by coming home late, he's booked a room. For all I say about him, he really does care.

Had a lovely call from my good friend Fiona P. She mentioned popping over for brunch on monday, She said once Lorraine takes over her shift at 8.30 she could hot foot it up the M1 and be in Leistershire by 11am.

Unfortunately Monday is Clarry's day off, and there's no one to watch the Kids so we might have to make do with dining in our back garden...B.U.GGER!!!

Ahh well , Easy day for me, got to pick up a few essentials from Odd bins and then its feet up on the sofa.
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The only one whose been hung out to dry is poor old cuddle cat

Sunday 30th September

With Gez away last night, I put the kids to bed and settled in for a what I thought would be a quiet night. Just me and a couple of bottles of Pinot Grigio. I'd just got comfy when Mr Branson (from down the road) came banging at the door. He left a big fat brown envelope for Gez which he'd forgotton to give him earlier in the week. Once he'd left I was a bit naughty though. I snuck upstairs and "jemmied" the envelope open with my nail file. Imagine my surprise to find it stuffed full of £50 notes. I carefully re-sealed the envelope, but not before stuffing a few of the said notes in my knicker drawer.

This morning Clarry was looking a little sad so I thought I'd cheer him up with an early Christmas present, a new pinny! He was delighted. I then passed him the iron and a basket of my husbands "smalls" and merrily skipped off to church. Sunday is an alcohol free day in our house so I made sure I had a big gulp at the alter (yum yum).

I returned home to find Gez back and he was furious with me (AGAIN!). I'd left the back door unlocked with Mr Bransons envelope sitting on the kitchen table. "Anyone could have walked in and taken it!" he shouted and then gave me a lecture on keeping our valuables secure. I suppose he has a point.

Once he calmed down he told me about his business meeting with Esther. The pension fund is doing really well and currently resting in a high interest yielding deposit bond with the Northern Rock Building Society. Gez looked really tired tho, he said Esther had missed her last train so took his bed while he slept on the sofa. As a result I dont think he's had much sleep. Bless him!

Here's the bad news, I got a call from hubby's sister Philly, she's invited herself down during half term week. I can see it now, She'll park her burpy old a.rse on my nice leather recliner, spend all day flicking between QVC and "Bid Up TV" while eating me out of house and home. Well if she thinks she's gonna nosh out on my Waitrose "Extra Special" range she's got another thing coming. I will ask Clarry to get some "Lidl" ready meals in that week.

Anyway must go as I promised myself I'd write to my lovely portuguees priest this weekend.
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The only one whose been hung out to dry is poor old cuddle cat

Letter :

Church of R - Soles
Praia De Luz
Portugal

30/09/07

Dear Father,

Thank you for your kind letter and photos, I particularly liked the beach sunbathing shots. I hope I can revisit you in portugal soon. It might be sooner than we think. The other night I overheard my husband on the phone, I think he was secretly booking our next holiday because I definately heard him talk about returning to Portugal. I guess he's looking to book more than a week this time cos I'm sure I overheard him use the words "a long stretch".

You know he was on the phone to that travel agents for ages trying to cut a good deal. I think I'm staying longer because at one point he said, "would that ensure I'd be coming home sooner than my wife" . When he came off the phone i asked who he was talking to, he said his lawyer, but I know he was lying to keep it a holiday surprise. I know you dont like him that much, but doesnt this show how much he cares about me.

I too am looking forward to the time when i can see you again. I have many fond memories of kneeling before you, receiving communion.

Well done on getting through to the Catholic Latin American Ice Dance Championships. I had no idea the Catholic church had so many recreational opportunities. I will keep my fingers crossed for you.

You are in my thoughts.

Hot Lips
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The only one whose been hung out to dry is poor old cuddle cat

Last edited by Doobyscoo on Tue Oct 02, 2007 9:07 am; edited 2 times in total

Tuesday 2nd October

Well I've been busy busy busy! Things are a bit better between Gez and me, this morning we had a really hot energetic sweaty session. I do enjoy our runs. I dont know why but I was in full on Paula Radcliffe mode and managed to beat the hubster off at the final sprint.

I returned home to find an annoying letter from work. They've said that given the amount of time I've had off, that they are going to put me on Statutory Sick pay. THE SWINES!!!!!!

Gez said not to worry and he would talk to Esther about off setting a few household expenses against the pension fund. Taking my big pad of doctors sick certificate from my clutch bag I signed myself off for another 2 months.

Yesterday Fiona P came over for brunch after getting off work at Genetically Modified TV. What with Clarry being off and all, the catering was left to me. Out came the cook books!

Clarry once confided in me that he loved nothing more than chowing down on a big hearty mouthfull of Ainsley Harriot. Personally when I tried Ainsley's offerings I found them a bit.....well erm.....limp.

I decided to go down the "Nigella Express" route and made a start on "Tomato sauteed Navy Beans set a sail on Ciabatta Brunchettas". I didnt have all the ingredients so instead of Ciabatta I used two slices of toasted "Mighty White" and substituted Navy beans with a big family size can of "Hienz Baked Beans". I poshed the whole thing up with a generous flurry of Herbs de Provence. Nigella Express....my b.um, that took me an hour and twenty minutes!

For aaahfters I did my own recipe. Two big pink wobbly blamanges with (in true Nigella style) a generous ejaculate of St Ivel squirty cream. Yummy! Who says I'm not a domestic goddess.

By the time Fiona arrived I was kna.ckered. Fiona was very complimentary of my recent weight loss and asked if I was a size 0 yet. Well not quite but I'm trying. She went on to sla.g off her work mate Lorraine, who she said had really piled it on lately.

No post from my priest today, maybe something will come tommorow.
_________________
The only one whose been hung out to dry is poor old cuddle cat

Last edited by Doobyscoo on Tue Oct 02, 2007 11:09 am; edited 1 time in total

Thursday 4th October.

Woke this morning with a strange sense that something was missing from the house, its actually a feeling that has slowly crept up on me over the last few days. You know what its like when you can't quite put your finger on it, but you know somethings missing. Then it hit me. We were out of gin! Think long and hard enough and the answers come. I quickly instructed Clarry to go down to Odd bins for a few litres of Gordons.

I've had a bit of a "ding d.ong" with Fiona P this week, The nasty mare!, she called me on Tuesday and said she'd been up all night yacking in the toilet, said she had contracted Botchalism poisoning, BLAMING MY FOOD! What a cheek, she went on to say that she'd felt nauseous ever since leaving my house on Monday afternoon. I said, "Now you can empathise with your viewing public then!" and slammed the phone down. I will call her later and apologise. She just caught me on a bad day, I'm fully menstrual at the moment, woke the other morning to find my nightie resembled Carrie Whites dress on prom night. Not nice!

I'm also a bit moody having not heard from my priest of this week, I Hope he's alright.

Gez is acting a bit weird, Last night he had a bonfire! yes a bonfire. I told him it was another six weeks till Guy Fawkes night, but no, he gathered up all my pants of ganga (a.ka.jeans), sandals and other various items of our clothing and proceeded to douse them in petrol before setting them alight. I think he's worried about MRSA Superbug infection because he said he wanted to eradicate all traces that might harm us. I hope he ups my housekeeping this month to buy some new gear

Clarry's back with the Gordons now so I've got better things to do that write this diary. Chin Chin!
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The only one whose been hung out to dry is poor old cuddle cat
________________________________________
Doobyscoo

CaboFrio wrote:Dooby

Great Diary. Any chance to could get Kate to organise an Ann Summers Party so Rachel could replace those thongs that the Dog Handlers desecrated by slobbering all over them?

High praise indeed from the master, Thank you

MMMmmmmm, Actually I think Auntie Phil's an Anne Summers Rep since she got sacked as the face of Avon, so she could arrange one when she's down to visit next week.

Any chance or republishing Gerry's deleted blogs. Cabio, I am really upset they have disappeared.
________________________________________
doobyscoo
For the record....

Just because a man likes a bit of Ainsley Harriot, manicures his nails and spends evenings polishing his leatherette man bags.

You suggest he takes delivery in the rear unloading bay.

Well I think your impertinent.

How ludicrously DARE YOU!

Saturday 6th October 2007

Up at 7am this morning, which is surprising as I didnt get to bed till gone 3. The house is quiet as the kids are still seda....erm, sleeping in thier beds. Taking advantage of the hour, I did a bit of Pilates and Yoga in the living room. Jakarta, my yoga teacher says I'm doing really well. Last week at yoga class she said to me "you keep that position up much longer and you'll be licking the honey from your own hive". I had no idea what she was talking about so I smiled politely and went on to practice my favourite postision......The TWISTED LOCUST

Last night went down well with Gez and his lodge mates. They are all big school boys really. Initially Gez was a bit upset that I wasn't doing "sandwiches" for the boys, but his eyes lit up when I promised them fingers for aaaahfter.

Well around 9pm two very handsome exotic waiters arrived carrying a large steaming aromatic hamper. I was salivating on the spot I can tell you. I took them into the Kitch where Clarry was already busy dusting off the hostess trolley. The two waiters introduced themselves as Vaj-rim and Sukdeep. I think Clarry was quite anamored by Sukdeep so I left them to it. Vajrim was having a bit of bother uncorking a bottle of Gez's best claret so I took him down the wine cellar for a s.crew.

The lads seemed to enjoy thier banquet, washing it down with copious mouthfulls of wines and lagers. Reminded me a bit of my days at Kirkby Lonsdale Med School. Gez got drunk and started off on his usual "if I ruled the world" rantings. Honestly somedays he acts like he really does rule the world. Taking refuge from his drunken beatings...ooopp I mean drunken bleatings, I stepped back into the kitchen.

Well......, for a "hired hand" Clarry really can take some liberties! There he was pleased as punch, munching away at Sukdeeps spicy meatballs. He'd also spilt what I can only imagine was "yoghurt dip" down his tunic. I gave him a bit of a talking to I can tell you. Vajrim found this quite amusing so thought I'd give him a lash of my tongue but there wasnt time.

By 11pm Gez had passed out on the recliner, Clarry and Sukdeep cleared the plates while Vajrim and I stayed in the kitchen where he warmed up my desert fingers which were to be offered to our remaining guests. Two of Gez's lodge friends carried him up to bed leaving me, the hostess with the mostest, to provide the nights entertainments. As I said I didnt get to bed till gone 3.

Just finshed my Pilates now. Gez is like a bear with a sore head and shouting Clarry to bring some more toilet paper to the ensuite wetroom. Clarry was halfway up the stairs when Gez shouted "AND A MOP!!!!!!!" Looks like he enjoyed his vindaloo.

Well thats me done for today. I'm now off shopping with that 600 quid Gez gave me, the cheap b.astard. Luckily I've still got £300 of Mr Bransons money in my knicker draw. Ta-ra.
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The only one whose been hung out to dry is poor old cuddle cat

Last edited by Doobyscoo on Sat Oct 06, 2007 11:34 pm; edited 4 times
in total

IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT FROM DOOBYSCOO
RE: The Diary of a Naive Woman (aged 39 and three quarters)

I have just received this email from Clarry.

Dear Dooby,

I am writing to let you know that my lady employer has been involved in an unfortunate.... erm..... incident. During an afternoon of shopping, and might I add, lashing out on a few too many Pimms and Lemonades, my lady has been involved in an accident involving a ripe aubergine, a packet of (unopened) "maynards" wine gums and a pair of firemans braces. Unfortunately due to legal reasons I cannot divulge any further information.

She will now be sojourning in the tranquil surroundings of her brother in laws rehab....erm I mean Health Spa Resort known as "Castle Crack", which as you know is just over the wee Scotish border.

My master Mr Gez will remain at home where he can attend to his many many affairs.

My lady will remain in a state of ......... "therapeutic seclusion" for the next week. All messages of well being I will be happy to pass on.

In servitude.

Clarry.


So there you have it folks, no diaries for a week. I may just take the opportunity for a little holiday myself.

All the best Dooby

xxxxxxxx


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The only one whose been hung out to dry is poor old cuddle cat

Last edited by Doobyscoo on Sun Oct 07, 2007 9:02 am; edited 3 times in total

Monday 15th October 2007

I've had an unexpected little holiday at Gez' uncles gaff "Castle Crack Health Spa Resort" up in bonnie Scotland. It all started the other weekend when I got a bit squiffy while out shopping. It wasn't good! I had to be rescued from..., well lets say, a predicament in the vegetable aisle at "Marks & Sparks" foodhalls. Gez was furious and demanded I get some detox. Next thing I know Clarry was bundling me into the back of a white van and whisking me over the border. What an ungainly way for a girl to travel. Private jet to Rome, this was not!

"Welcome to Castle Crack" the sign read as we drove through, there was also some strange graffitti which said " No Rock Left Unsmoked". I'm not sure what I was expecting, but it was completely different from my usual pamper palace. Take the spa robes for example, I'm used to soft white waffle linen, the one they gave me was skin tight and made from a very rough fabric, the sleeves also tied round my back in a very figure hugging position. I guess they are designed to improve posture, so not such a bad thing. I was taken to my room, which was themed Japanese minamalist, white with a futon low bed, jemmy proof shuttered windows and the fab-est padded wallpaper.

After a few days my posture must have improved cos they gave me a normal robe to wear. Its the strictest health resort ever, no bar and no drinky-poos. What a killer. I got chatty with the girl in the room next to mine, she's some sort of rock singer and said her name was Amy Winelodge. She wasn't very happy to be there and every time I asked if she wanted to join me in an activitiy she would merely say "aint gonna go........I said NO! NO! NO!"

Luckily there were some friendlier people staying (no Riff raff... Thk.Fk;.) Loads of politicians, American miltary top brass and that lovely woman who does the early morning show on Radio 2. One of the yanks named Buck Broncho took an instant fancy to me. Said I reminded him of Princess Anne, surely he meant Diana!. He told me I had a very attractive equistrain look...? Must look up what he meant by that.

Well I know what these yanks are like, say they want a stable relationship when all they want is a fumble in the stable. Despite his own obvious horse like qualities, I put paid to any ideas that he could have me rolling around in the hay with his dirty hands running through my fetlocks and told him to take a galloping jump over a fence. I think this upset him because he then went knocking on Amy Winelodge's door for a bit of Southern comfort. Twenty minutes later, for the first and only time during her stay at Castle Crack, I heard Amy screaming "YES! YES! YEEEEES!"

Well its home tomorrow, home to Leicester, home to Gez, home to Clarry...mmm oh yeah and the kids (I was forgetting them). I'm under strict instructions to keep my alcohol consumption down to 14 units. I think that's quite do-able, (well on a good day!). Don't suppose they mean per week do they?..........nah dont be silly!

Gez's sis, Aunty Phil said she would drive me home tommorow. Think she'll more likely drive me mad!

back tommorow.
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The only one whose been hung out to dry is poor old cuddle cat

Tuesday 16th October 2007

Midnight:
Just got home, I cant' believe it's taken us 14 hours to get here. Aunty Philly came to pick me up at 10am this morning. She turned up in her clapped out V reg Vauxhall Viva, oh the shame of it. She'd over packed and as a result there was no room in the boot for my stuff. Nor could I put anything on the back seat as it was stacked high with bottles of Tizer and family packs of Monster Munch. "Keep us going for the wee journey" she winked.

I made do by fastening my Gucci luggage set to the roof rack using some old laddered tights from my laundry bag. Once I was squeezed into the passenger seat we were ready to go. The exhaust backfired and we lunged forward in a p.uff of smoke, and so our journey started.

We'd been on the road for 20 minutes and Phil was pulling off into the first of the many motorway service stations we would visit on our journey. Considering she'd been moaning that her "cankles" were aching, you should have seen her run! She was out that car and in the queue for the snackateria quicker than a Russian peasant on a bread run.

During the quiet times at Castle Crack I really found myself and I confided in Philly about my epiphany. I'd come to the sudden realisation that everything that had gone wrong in my life was directly linked to the size of my breasts. "You should try mine" cackled Philly as she heaved her massive mammaries to rest on the steering wheel while simultaneously opening a packet of Garibaldi biscuits. Steering with ti.ts, you gotta admit it, quite talented in anybody's book!

Aunty Philly suggested I have a bit of plastic surgery. "A mate of mine", she said, "went from the tiniest wee bee stings to 42" Double F overnight! Only cost her 12 grand". Well...... it's certainly worth thinking about and might give me the edge to win the BBC Television Outstanding Mum of the Year Award.

Mid afternoon, Aunty Phil says "This reminds me of Thelma and Louise", pointing to us both sat in the car. Well......Unless I missed a scene where a 22 stone Susan Sarandon pulls into a KFC Drive Thru and pistol-whips a guy for a bargain bucket, I THINK NOT! Mind you, I quite fancy myself in the Gina Davis role.

By 7pm a travel report came on the radio warning of an extra wide load traveling south down the M1, We were southbound on the M1! I hope they didn't mean us.

Gez called on my moby, wanting to know what time we were due. but you know me, hopeless with knowing the time....9.05,, 9.30pm, 10pm who knows! Esther was there with him? Said they were "hard at it" as Gez was preparing to give her an extra large deposit......... that fund! I asked him to instruct Clarry to put the kids to bed, I know they wanted to see me, but I'm too tired to bother with all that hugging nonsense, not after my day!


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The only one whose been hung out to dry is poor old cuddle cat

Thursday 18th October 2007

Alcohol units since leaving Castle Crack = 18 (not good!)

Got up early today for exercise, at least with Philly here she can keep the kids amused while get on with my favourite aerobics DVD. "Shape Up & Dance with Boss Skaggs".........Fantastic!!!!!!

After showering I could hear raised voices in the kitchen. It was Gez and Phil arguing. Ever since Gez and I have been off work we've been a bit short of cash. Auntie Phil promised to sell her 2 bed semi in Glasgow to help us out a bit, but Gez remains frustrated that the house is not yet sold. "It's been on the market, has been for weeks!" I heard Phil shout. Gez replied, "You'd better drop the price a few thou!" and walked out slamming the french windows behind him. I know Philly was upset because seconds later I heard the fridge door being opened.

Once the kids were safely deposited at the all day creche, I got busy doing my hair, nails and self tan. Philly, as I had expected she would, parked her bum on the recliner keeping tight hold of the digi-box remote control. My goodness, she don't half watch some ****! Trishia, Cash in the Attic, Loose Women. By the time I'd gone downstairs the place looked like a landfill site. She'd created her own little island made of empty crisp packets, crushed "Dr Pepper" cans and tossed aside Ferrero Roche wrappers.

In the afternoon we both settled down to watch D.yke Van D.ick in "Diagnosis Murder". Its a show about this doctor, whom, in the course of his work investigates homicides which somehow only seem to occur during his shift and on a weekly basis. Today's episode was about him finding dodgy fluids and hair samples in the boot of another doctors car. He was trying to extract DNA in order to solve the mystery. Aren't these American TV shows far fetched.

Later, Aunt Phil nodded off, mouth agape she snored her way through "Sally Jesse". Would you believe it, the TV remote control had fallen down her cumbersome cleavage. Gingerly, like a kid sneaking a cookie from the jar, I retrieved it just in time to have a quick "flick" to Judge Judy.

Later on Gez returned from his conference meeting on "the wider agenda". Clarry asked what we'd like for dinner. Philly piped up that she quite fancied a wee Indian. "You're not the only one!" I said, shooting a glance in Clarry's direction. Flushed with embarrassment Clarry said "I'll get the 'take out' menus".

Sukdeep and Vaj-rim should be arriving with the nosh anytime now.
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The only one whose been hung out to dry is poor old cuddle cat

Friday 19th October

You’ll never guess where I am……..in hospital. What a day! I can’t wait to write this all down.

Auntie Phil wanted to treat the kids to a day out so we made plans to take them to Leicester’s premier indoor water theme park, “Wet Dreamland”. Somebody really ought to rethink that title! The park boasts the only tsunami wave generator attraction in the world. It’s quite safe, the kids are all issued with arm bands and there have only been 2 fatalities since June.

Only one problem, Philly didn’t have a swimming costume. Not to worry, said Clarry as he dashed upstairs. Using an old kingsize quilt cover he set to work at his sewing machine. In less than ten minutes he’d created a brilliant one-piece swim suit with matching bathing cap. Isn’t he marvellous!

On our arrival we were greeted by the parks mascot, a friendly, cuddly tentacled octopus called “Tickle-me-pussi”. How we laughed when one of the tentacles went up Auntie Phil’s tartan skirt. Think it wanted to tickle-her…erm…..Never mind!

The kids were having a wail of a time and Philly created quite a tsunami of her own as she jumped in. I stayed dressed and watched from the spectators lounge……and yes! There was a bar!

Settling down with a Martini I watched Philly and the kids climb the steps for the tube-pipe water flume. I could see the kids as they whooshed their way through the many bumps and bends of the semi transparent tube.

Then it was Auntie Phil’s turn!..............erm, deep breath.....here we go.

Tracing her outline, I watched as she slowly, and I mean slowly, moved through the tube. At the final bend she came to a sudden halt. Stuck fast in the pipe bend she started screaming for help. Everybody watched, dumbstruck as the water behind her started backing up and filling up the pipe. Tense seconds ticked into minutes as the flume tube started to creak and groan, presumably under the massive weight of water building up behind Auntie Phil. Then with an almighty pop and a thunderous roar of gushing water she was shot out the end, hurtling her 50ft in the air towards the pool centrepiece, a huge inflatable “tickle-me-pussi”. She ricocheted off the Octopus sending her cart wheeling across the pool to finally crash land into a stack of sun loungers and parasols. I downed my drink and called an ambulance.

I sat in the back of the ambulance as we drove through Leicester, sirens blazing! It took 10 minutes which was more than enough time for me to file my nails! So here I am, sitting in Leicester Royal Infirmary A&E waiting room, writing my diary. Can’t wait to get home and tell Gez about my day!

Anyway busy tomorrow as everyone is coming over for our Rugby World Cup party. Sure I’ll have lots to write by Sunday.
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The only one whose been hung out to dry is poor old cuddle cat

Last edited by Doobyscoo on Fri Oct 19, 2007 6:45 pm; edited 3 times in total

Diary Sunday 21st October 2007

The morning after the night before. (alcohol Units=47)

I realise that most of the country are nursing rueful hangovers, mourning England’s defeat in the rugby at the hands of the South Africans. Myself, I couldn’t be more pleased. Why else would I wear naff yellow and green ribbons in my hair if not to cheer on the S.A lads. Besides Gez said if things don’t improve in England, we might well be esca….emigrating to South Africa.

Watching the rugby reminded me of my days at Kirkby Lonsdale Polytechnic. I was quite a popular girl with the rugby team back then. I fondly remember those afternoons in the clubhouse, playing with their balls......... Oh for the carefree days of youth, where did they go?

Poor Auntie Philly, she suffered acute whiplash as a result of her accident at “Wet Dreamland”. She has to wear a neck brace and eat through a straw. Not that-that stops her! Our Moulinex food processors has been on the go 24/7.

Philly’s a big rugby fan and told me she used to play “full back” for the Glasgow Lady Warriors Rugger Team. Gez must have got her position confused because he’d previously told me that Philly was one of Glasgow’s most accomplished “hookers”.

She spent most of the first half flirting with poor old Mr Branson. She’s been keen on him since I told her he’s a Virgin. She likes a challenge and wore the tightest boob tube I’d ever seen. Sweet Chariot!!!!!……she certainly was swinging low.

Sukdeep from the Indian restaurant had taken the night off to watch the match with Clarry. They’ve become FIRM buds lately. At half time, and half cut on McEwans Extra, Philly shouted over to Sukdeep, “Clarry tells me you’re a bit of a GO-ER !!!!!!”. She must have misheard because what Clarry had actually said was “Sukdeep was from Goa”, but we all laughed.

Gez had invited his good friends Richard & Jane from Exeter over for the weekend. They can really get a party swinging i can tell you. After the match we were all quite blotto, Jane and I were looking forward to tasting our hot meaty twelve inchers but had to wait a further twenty minutes for “Papa Razzi’s ” to deliver our pizzas.

By Midnight Sukdeep and Clarry had gone up to his room to watch “The Sound of Music” on DVD.

Auntie Phil seemed very drunk and was doing a "Rugby Strip" of her very own. She rugby tackled poor Mr Branson to the ground, with not so much “Full back” as “Full Frontal”. Legs akimbo, Philly drunkenly straddled Mr Branson, tugging wildly at his chinny beard. I’m not sure if it was pleasure or pain, but Mr Branson was crying.

That just left Gez and me to have fun with D.ick and Jane…..and we did!

Swing low!
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The only one whose been hung out to dry is poor old cuddle cat

Tuesday 23rd October 2007.

I was in such a panic this morning when I woke and couldn’t find my diary; searching high and low I couldn’t see it anywhere. Then I spotted it amongst some of messy Auntie Phil’s old “Knick Knocks”. She’d better not have read it!
I really must be more careful in future, I mean what if it gets into the wrong hands and some unscrupulous person posts my most private thoughts on the Internet. That would be awful!

Philly’s gone home now. I thought (well dreaded) she’d stay longer, perhaps even move in with us once her house is sold. When I mentioned that possibility to Mr Branson he went white as a sheet, immediately writing Gez a cheque for £100,000. He also arranged for Aunt Philly to be air lifted back to Scotland first thing this morning. I think he has a few aeroplanes knocking around, rich as he is.

Since Phil’s departure Clarry has been busy giving the house a thorough scrub down. What with all the extra food trash and the weekends party “empties” our wheelie bin cannot cope. It’s not like Portugal where refuse bins the size of cars are emptied nightly. I’ve told Clarry to load everything (kids dirty nappies included) into the boot of my car. No worries, I’ll find some horrid council estate and dump it all in the street a bit later.

Now the house is quiet I can get on with that job application I’ve been meaning to send to Leicester Social Services. I’m applying for the post of Child Welfare Support Worker so it has to be neat. I’m using my best felt tips. In response to the question. “Please detail your skills, qualifications and experience which you feel is relevant to this post” I wrote:

As an attractive, "collar and cuff" blonde devoted mother, in her early thirties (the odd fib won’t hurt) I have gained invaluable personal experience of childcare which I acquired FIRST HAND by watching my childrens Nanny’s, Child minders, Nursery school teachers, Crèche staff and that woman who supervises the ball pond at our local “Wacky Warehouse”.

My vast personal experience is further compounded by my respected academic study in this field of childcare. I have never missed a single episode of “Super Nanny” and am a recent graduate of the “Britney Spears – Oops I Did It Again Online Academy”, where I achieved my NVQ in Child Care and Jazz Tap (Grade C minus). Please find enclosed a photocopy of my graduation glitter sticker.

As a stoic advocate of good parental practice I have rejected many of the recent and so called “modern” overprotective parental models. Favouring the respected and established distance & discipline principles of the Joan Crawford “Mommy Dearest” technique.

REFERENCES

Gordy “Big Banger” Brown
10 Downing Street
London
W1

Now tell me the jobs not in the bag!

Now what’s that clattering noise in the kitchen. I bet the kids have got in the knife drawer again.

“Clarreeeeee! “
_________________
The only one whose been hung out to dry is poor old cuddle cat

Friday 26th October 2007

Gez was in a wonderful mood this morning. He even got a bit frisky which is very unusual for him nowadays. He's been more preoccupied with maximising our pension fund and giving Esther pearl necklaces galore. You'd think she'd have enough jewellery already? At least this morning he was all mine for the taking.

It all started when the postman came.....twice! He often knocks me up at the crack! There was such a lot of post today, Poor Mr Longshaft, our postie, worked up quite a sweat as he struggled to push his big package through my tight box. He eventually had to pound on my knocker before I opened up and let him into my front entrance. Once inside he immediately emptied his big sack all over my furry mat.

He offered me a cigarette which I accepted but didn't smoke. He said he'd also got a big load which urgently required Clarry's attention. I told him he'd have to go round the back for that and we both chuckled, He lit another ciggie, waved goodbye and wandered off round the side of the house towards the servants quarters. I hope he's got something nice for Clarry, he's been a bit down in the dumps lately.

Gez was still in bed after his late night ludo tournament with lads from the masonic lodge. I took his post up to him. There was only one envelope for Gez, his bank statement which he read while humming the tune "Who wants to be a millionaire". I had no idea he was a fan of Cole Porter!

My parcel was a large long oblong cardboard tube with an Exeter postmark, I had initially thought it was a some, well lets call them.....items which I'd ordered from the "Anne Summers" Ladies Secrets catalogue. No such luck, imagine my disappointment to find only a crappy picture from my friend Jane . She's being doing this therapeutic art class since being off work with a chronic dose of mange. From the looks of this shoddy little effort she's been quite busy with her crayolas.

To tell you the truth, I'm a bit worried about her, she's madder that a sack of rabid weasels. I know its nearly Halloween but the picture she sent me was demented! Some scrawny looking gimp with no face carrying a headless child. I ask you!!!!! I've sent her a thank you card and a prescription for "Benzodiazepine" by return of post. That will sort her out and I should know, they mix lovely with a nice dry sherry.

Anyway, I've just phoned Mr Branson and asked him to call round. I'm hoping to persuade him to loan me the cash for my boob job. I'm sick of the being known as the "double fried eggs on toast" lady at my gym. THOSE BIT.CHES!

I want to give Gez an extra special Christmas treat. A ludicrously large breasted woman......ME!
_________________
The only one whose been hung out to dry is poor old cuddle cat

Sunday 28th October 2007

Alcohol units = 0.5 ( v. v. good)
Ebay Item (69696970-1) Current bidding = 0.01p (v.v. bad)

Sunday is a peaceful day, a time to reflect, a time when we consider ourselves instead of others and a time, if I get 20 minutes spare, to squeeze in a little “family time” too.

After returning from church Gez and I had a good session on the living room carpet. Spread eagled and panting softly I helped Gez release some pent up tension from his lower shakra. Unfortunately our Yoga session was somewhat disturbed by the sound of heavy banging coming from the direction of the kitchen. It was Clarry bashing his meat. We tried to carry on regardless but there was yet more banging, this time on the front door. I carefully unravelled myself from a rather tight “coital preying mantis” and went to answer the door.

It was some “estate” kids wearing fancy dress! Yes, it’s that time of year again, end of October without fail. Kids and adults (who should know better) walk the streets with painted faces, outrageous costumes and begging bowls. Every year these parasites are scrounging at my door. That b***dy “BBC Children In Need Charity Appeal” and their sodding “do gooder” fundraising volunteers. What a b***dy cheek!

I didn’t want to look mean so I shook out 22 pence from the kiddies’ piggy bank. Gez would be furious if he knew I’d given them anything at all. He says “charity begins at home” and thinks these funds are all an excuse for, as he says “a bunch of so called wannabe celebs and their greedy public relations gurus to dine out on free holidays with unlimited expenses in the name of a charitable cause”. Well Gez would know all about that. He is always right about everything. Always!

Clarry did us a nice beefy roast for lunch; he really goes to trouble and had bashed his meaty loin until very soft and tender. Mummy joined us and I secretly told her about my plans to have a boob job. She said “Not before time!” adding that she couldn’t afford to lend me any money. All she ever thinks about is her damn self. Good job I don’t take after her.

After lunch I had a phone call from Jane in Exeter. She wanted to know if I liked the drawing she’d sent me. “Its wonderful” I lied and told her that Gez hung it in his office (another lie!) I’ve actually posted it on Ebay. No bids as yet!

I got busy with my hair, nails, leg wax and self tan. I was so pre-occupied making “the fabulous me” I hadn’t noticed it was gone 6.30pm and Clarry had already put the kids to bed. There goes “family time” this week, will have to factor it in next week instead. It is important after all!

No word from my Portuguese priest. What have I done wrong?
_________________
The only one whose been hung out to dry is poor old cuddle cat

Tuesday 30th October 2007

Alcohol units = 16 (manageable)
Calories = 630 (too many!!!!)
Ebay item 69696970-1 = £41.89 from 17 bids (astonishing!)

I read, with some concern, in today’s paper about mortgage repossessions being at an all time high. I’m not too good at maths and leave all that finance malarkey to Gez. Since neither of us have worked in such a long, long time I did ask the hubster how on earth we were managing to pay our whopping mortgage and all nine “Norton Finance” consolidation loans.

Gez was ever so good and explained how Esther, in addition to being his trusted pension fund advisor also did a nice sideline in mortgage fiddles. Between them they had cooked up some sneaky little re-financing initiative whereby other unsuspecting people are now paying our massive mortgage arrears. How clever they are! Esther, she really is worth her weight in pearls. I wonder if she can swing a few thousand my way, after all, six kilo weight of cosmetic silicon isn’t cheap.

Anyhoo, I was just finishing off the morning paper when Mr Longshaft, our postie, surprised me by slipping a brown thin one in my box. The shock brought tears to my eyes. It certainly wasn’t something I was expecting! Not a horrid rejection letter from Leicestershire Social Services with reference to my recent application for employment. Those lousy incredulous hurtful swine’s!

The letter explained the department had neither heard of, nor recognised, the “Britney Spears-Oops I did it again-Online Academy” . What do they mean it's not an accredited academic institution, I paid $12 for that 45 minute course. It went on to say they would not be pursuing my application for employment. I showed the letter to Gez, who was furious and wasted no time in getting on the telephone to pull a few of those handy “Masonic” strings.

About an hour later I received a call from a rather nervous sounding “Head of Personnel”, Ms Fanney Shandy. She was audibly shaken and apologised profusely for what she called an “administrative oversight”. She went on to congratulate me at being awarded the job and informed me of the pay. Get this, a measly £42.50 per hour, The cheek of the woman! "A Pittance!" I retorted, telling her she could stick her flicking job back up her hole. £42.50 an hour! Bloo.dy slave labour if you ask me.

Ahh well, s*d em!

Tomorrow we are going down the road to rich old Mr Branson’s bachelor mansionette for his annual “Halloween Spook and Swing Frite-Nite” The party is for “singles” and “swingles” alike so we are bound to have some fun. Its fancy dress so I’ve been working on my costume. Out came that short black bobbed wig I wore last year when I dressed as Anne Widdecomble.

I’ve successfully combined the very same wig with massive sunglasses, a knitted jerkin, a pair of bloodied safari pants and some muddy court shoes to create what I think is a rather sexy and highly plausible “Lindy Chamberlin”. Will work on my Aussie accent tomorrow, I wonder If Clarry has Merryl Streeps number handy?

Gez has kept his costumes a surprise. I can’t wait.
_________________
The only one whose been hung out to dry is poor old cuddle cat

Wednesday 31st October 2007
Halloween

Acholol units = lost count
Ebay item (69696970-1) = Didn't check
Tricks = 2
Treats = 8

Tonight was the night of Dickie-B's Halloween "Spook and Swing" party. I have to laugh cos foolish me thought a swingers party involved dancing to the big band sounds of Dean Martin & Frankie Sinatra. Aren't I a daft clot, there was none of that going on I can tell you.

I must say, I was surprised earlier today when Gez told me he was going down Nora Bo.ner's "Dress Me Up B4 U Go Go" Costume Emporium for his outfit. He's usually such a mean stick when it comes Halloween.

Nora Bo.ner's hire shop isn't known for its standards of hygiene. I very much doubt Nora washes any of the costumes between rents so Gez returned home with the mangiest dirty man-sized pink "cuddly cat" to wear. It stunk! (Strangely enough, of "Piz Buin" suntan lotion). I wasted no time in getting the filthy thing into the "hotpoint" on a high temperature spin cycle. Unfortunately it went from stinky to shrinky and Gez will no doubt be losing his deposit when he returns it.

"What the fluck am I going to wear now?" Gez protested. Quickly I rummaged around finding a grey false beard, an old tweed jacket of my dads, my stethoscope and a few large hypodermic syringes . "There you go Gez!" I said proudly as I handed over the improvised costume "You can go as Dr Harold Shipman". He was delighted!

Clarry was dressed up too, as "Leather Man" from the Village People. I think these were his own togs actually! "What's scary about that?" I enquired at which point he turned to reveal his naked saggy spotty backside in a pair of black leather "chaps". I screamed!!! "Scariest thing I've ever seen". It was definitely on a par with the sight of Jane T wearing her itsy bitsy beach thong in Portugal!

By the time we arrived the party was in full swing. I swiftly made a beeline for Mr Branson's burly German butler, Hans Beaver-Lichen who was carrying a tray of "b***dy Mary's". I'd heard rumours in the village about his tasty German Bratwurst so I wanted to ensure he'd save me a big portion. He said he he would pop a big one "in meiner mund". I guess that means "on my plate". As the evening went; it wasn't only the language barrier that got broken as I fully acquainted myself with Han's German tongue.

Much to my annoyance Gez spent most of the evening chatting with Esther, his fund manager. I must admit she looked fab in her leather cat-suit, I think she'd dressed as Emma Peel from the "Avengers". I asked her if she was supposed to be "Honor Blackman?" to which she looked at all the white faces in the room and replied "not tonight I'm not!". I smiled in confused bewilderment, but Gez and Esther were killing themselves laughing.

Clarry was loving himself as he sassed things up with a Shirley Bassey number on the karaoke machine. He must have been a bit drunk cos he kept getting the words wrong, singing "Hey Big Be.nder" when it should have been spender.

I dont know who invited that strumpet from the village, Mrs Heather Milly-Macca. Her divorce isnt even finalised yet and she was throwing herself all over rich Mr Branson. Her pirate costume was quite good though; Long John Silver! She hopped over shouting "Aahhhaaa Me hearty's". I asked her why she was carrying a spade, "that'll be for me treasure" she chuckled. I guess when there's gold to be a diggin! She's quite a nice girl really and her costume was one of the best I'd seen although I did think lobbing off her own leg for the sake of realism was a taking it a bit far.

Later on Mr Branson was kindly making everyone cocktails. He offered me and Gez one of his own inventions; he calls it a "Flaming Arguido". I don't know what he in puts in them but Gez and I had two each. I initially found mine a bit hard to swallow but Gez drank his down with his usual stiff upper lip. After the second "Arguido" we literally couldn't speak so Clarry was called over to speak on our behalf.

I was still feeling a little bit blotto when Esther and Gez disappeared upstairs. Hans Von Beaver-Lichen noticed I was looking a bit lost so came over to whisper something in my ear. I wasn't exactly certain what the cheeky "apple strudel' actually said over all the party noise but I guessed he wanted me to uncork a bottle of German white wine because I'm sure he whispered "Lets go for a hock in the kitchen!"

Esther and Gez were up in one of the bedrooms for ages. To be fair she did ask if she could steal Gez away for a short while as she urgently wanted to de-brief him. I was reassured by her perfectly innocent explanation that she needed to keep Gez abreast of some rather delicate but firm pressing matters.

It must have been a good meeting because they both looked pleased as punch on their return. I'm not sure what happened to Esther's Emma Peel costume but she returned looking more like a "Pearly Queen". I'm hope she doesn't lose her deposit like Gez.

Anyway, It was getting late and someone I know has to be at work in the morning, luckily not me!

So I leave tonight with Gez's last words before he fell asleep... "The parties over"
_________________
The only one whose been hung out to dry is poor old cuddle cat

A MESSAGE FROM DOOBYSCOO RE: Trial of Arguidos

No diary today, I'm very sorry...... however.....

I've recently received a few messages from some very frustrated readers to which I feel I must respond.

"When oh when are we going to TRY those Flaming Arguidos?"
or
"quando oh quando formos nós que vamos tentar aqueles arguidos flamejantes"

Well luckily I've found the cocktail recipe.

FLAMING ARGUIDOS (To serve 7) (Perfect accompanyment with TAPAS)

1/2 Litre of Angostura Bitters
1/2 Litre of Vintage "Blue Nun" (Pre 1979)
1.5 fl oz of Amaretto
2.5 fl oz of French Absynth
3 fl oz of Spanish Ojura
0.75 fl oz of Jagermeister Schnapps
1/2 Pippette of St Johns Wort Tincture
6 or 7 Generous "Pearls" of Single Cream
3 fl oz of Lighter Fuel
2 tps of Powdered Rhino Horn ( if not Spanish Fly will do)
3 Spits of Green Chartreuse liqueur
3 Caps of Calpol or Tixilix
6 Freshly squeezed Portuguees Oranges

The coctail mix is best shaken not spun!
Mix in a bucket (important Metal NOT PLASTIC)
Leave alone to settle down for at least 3 hours (VERY IMPORTANT CHECK EVERY 30mins - DO NOT NEGLECT!!!)
Leave doors, windows and shutters open! (again important)
Decorate with pretty beach parasols.
DO NOT SMOKE!

There you have it, a recipe for "FLAMING ARGUIDOS"

Oh dear I've just found this at the bottom of the page

HEALTH & SAFETY WARNING - Please note this cocktail recipe is not fit for human consumption, So don't go trying this at home kids!

ahh ****, does that mean these Flaming Arguidos will never get tried...

Dooby
x
_________________
The only one whose been hung out to dry is poor old cuddle cat

Friday 2nd November 2007

Alcohol units = 0 (Good girl!)
Calories = 1860 (Bad girl!)
Ebay Item 69696970-1 = £200.01 (Unbelievable, Auction ends Sunday!)

Gez has been in a foul mood since he and Esther got rumbled regarding their little mortgage scam. He’s returned to work which hasn’t gone down too well. The little blighter did suggest that I went out to earn a few bob myself, but I’m still much too fragile to do any sort of consultation work.

Besides, I had another type of consultation in the village, at Tiffany Fontaine’s Hair and Beauty Salon. Well…..she calls her self Tiffany Fontaine, but it’s common knowledge that her real name is Tracy Belcher and she lives on the Scuttlethorpe estate.

Heather Milly-Macca was in there having a leg wax and when I say having “a” leg wax, I mean….A LEG. I hope Tiffany did it half price! It was just a quick root retouch and split end job for me; £6.50…..Scandalous!

I tottered into “Horncock’s” newsagents to check if I was featured in the latest edition of the “Leicester Mercury”. There I was on page 7, Classified Ads

“Prof lady urgently seeking 24hr Nanny/Childminder. No qualification necc. GSOH req. Pay Negotiable. Call 07771 69…….”

Mr Horncock was busy dusting his fags and mags. He asked if I wanted to renew the faded dog-eared postcard I’d put up in the lost and found section of his shop window. I said I wouldn’t bother, we’d since stopped looking and have now given up all hope of ever finding Gez’s lost wallet.

While I was there I had a browse at Mr Horncock’s whizz bangs. I’d promised the kids a few fireworks for bonfire night but was disappointed with the ones on display in his dusty glass cabinet. We got chatting and I told Mr Horncock how I used to have lots of fun with “Roman Candles”, back in my time at Catholic boarding school. Of course I’ve done a lot of growing up since those carefree days!

Noticing my disappointment at the selection of small unremarkable rockets Mr Horncock suggested if I was looking for a really good bang we’d have to go into the back store room. He went on to explain that was where he’d hidden his stash of highly illegal imports.

Locking the shop door I quickly followed him into the darkened room where he proudly took out a huge pulsing thruster. Letting me gently touch and handle the whopper, he said I’d have to be very careful with the purple “wick end” as he didn’t want it to go off prematurely and spoil everybody’s fun! “Besides”, he winked “If it goes off in your hand it will create such an awful mess”.

Visibly trembling, Mr Horncock said he didn’t want anyone to find out what we were up to so I reassured him of my very, very “tight lips”. He's a dirty so.d and said he’d heard talk of that in the village. Still conscious that we were doing wrong and the fact of Mrs Horncock being due back from the “cash and carry” I wasted no time helping the doddering shop keeper fill my box.

He said only yesterday he’d had a WPC round probing him about what was stocked in his rear. He warned me, “If the big boys in blue find out they’ll be round to finger you too!” I’m not that worried about the fuzz, it won’t be the first time I’d lie to the police and I doubt it will be the last. I once again reassured him saying I’d keep it “our little secret”.

By the time we’d finished Mr Horncock was worn out so I left him in his store room smoking a ciggie. It wasn’t until I got home and turned on the local TV news I saw the headline “Local Shop Keeper in Fireworks Tragedy”.

Poor Mr Horncock.
_________________
The only one whose been hung out to dry is poor old cuddle cat

Monday 5th November 2007

Ebay Item 696970-1 Auction ended = £2200.21 (fk me!)
Breast Implant fund = £2200.21
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Remember, remember the 5th of November
For gunpowder, treason and plot.”

Today, the people of Britain band together in their millions to join the persecution of devout Catholics accused of a most horrific heinous crime. Tonight Gez and I will distance ourselves from this vile persecution, lighting “Roman Candles” not to celebrate, but to mark this utterly ludicrous travesty of justice. Guy Fawkes Night!

This morning, while Clarry built a bonfire, I went to double check my stash of highly illegal imported fireworks just in case they'd got damp in the cellar. Examining each firework individually I marvelled with excited anticipation at their imaginative and descriptive names;

The Penetrator, Midnight Bangers, One Shot Wonder, Jack In My Box, Fingles Flute, Screaming Eruption, String of Pearls, Hot Probing Venus and of course Clarry’s favourite, the “Hot Fiery Ring of Uranus”.

Gez once confided on a crisp November bonfire evening, under the moon and stars, he liked nothing better than a “Golden Shower” on the back lawn. It is unfortunate that in Mr Horncocks haste to fill my box, whilst he successfully managed to give me multiple “screaming eruptions” he failed to produce anything resembling a “golden shower”. Gez will be disappointed (as was I).

On the subject of Mr Horncock, I’ve been worried sick! It wasn’t until I saw the TV report about his awful accident it dawned on me; the lousy tight ****** git had short changed me! Worried, should his health (goodness forbid it) take a tragic turn for the worse leaving me down a fiver; I paid him a visit in hospital.

He was fast asleep but I did manage to rummage through his dressing gown pockets and retrieve a crumpled twenty pound note. More than enough to cover my change, petrol and inconvenience! Asking the charge nurse how he was baring up, she checked her patient records. “Oh you mean Mr Scorch-coc.k?” she giggled, “I think you can say he’s out of the woods”. Judging by the nature and extent of his injuries he’ll be “out of wood” for some considerable time.

Poor Mrs Horncock!

-0-

On my return home I overheard Gez talking on the telephone, behind the closed doors of his study. The term “overheard” might be a little exaggeration because I had my doctor’s stethoscope placed deftly against the study door. The sound reception was somewhat muted but I could deduce he was chatting to Jane in Exeter. (I presume he reversed the charges….tight meany he is!) I swear the only way I got a diamond engagement ring was by Gez sticking a rock of coal up his as.s.

“Be careful!” Gez warned Jane, “I don’t want you to get your fingers burnt when things get too hot to handle”. I can only guess that Jane and Russell are planning a bonfire too. Gez seemed concerned and communicated extra caution, I assume about the dangers of fireworks. He mentioned a potentially explosive situation and told Jane to “keep a tight lid on it”. Good advice too! As the firework code strictly tells us. Store safely in a sturdy tin box!

The conversation again became muffled and I had to strain my ears to hear their secret whispers. I presume they were now talking about my Christmas present. Following Jane’s successful dalliance in the art world with her acclaimed pastel “Gimp & Child” I have concluded that Gez requested she create a portrait of gorgeous me. I definitely heard him say “I want you to frame my wife!” Aren’t they sweet! He was just about to explain to Jane exactly how he wanted me “put in the frame” when Clarry came in from the garden. I quickly dashed upstairs.

Anyway I must get busy, it will be dark soon and I know Clarry is aching to roast his nuts by the bonfire.

Tally ho!
_________________
The only one whose been hung out to dry is poor old cuddle cat

Tuesday 6th November 2007 - "It's Show Time"

Today, open auditions were being held for our local amateur dramatic society's Christmas Pantomime "Ali-Berber and the 40 Ladrões." As per usual, the show is written, produced and directed by "Rothley Players" resident Am-Dram stalwart, Regina Clench. She's very uptight!

Gez, Clarry, along with talented me are all up for a part in what Regina Clench promises will be an ambitious Anglo-Portuguese-Moroccan extravaganza! Regina is known for what she calls her "eclectic creative licence," nicking any good bits from other shows and blending them into her own. Most memorably in our Easter production of "Jesus Christ Superstar" she had poor little orphan Annie strapped to a wooden cross singing "The Sun'll Come Out Tomorrow."

Clarry is a seasoned performer even playing before royalty. He once delighted the late Princess Margaret with his very, very "small part" in "Charlie's Aunt." Of course, nowadays Clarry has matured preferring to get his tongue round "Howard's End," with its challenging dialogue and let's not be coy, meatier part!

Gez and I are novices at this acting game. We've only really got serious about acting in the last six months. Clarry gets annoyed when I "fluff" my lines. He feels I have to work on what he calls my "emotional delivery." It's not my fault I can't cry convincingly on cue, but with Clarry's brilliant "onions sewn into a handkerchief" tip, my recent performances have significantly improved. Gez is much better at emotions; he's got anger, frustration, arrogance and contempt down to a tee.

Waiting patiently in the stage wings, we watched Heather Milly-Macca's audition. She flopped (quite literally). Regina declined her any part in this year's panto but said she'd consider her for a title role in next year's production of "Stumplestiltskin."

For our audition piece, I started things off with "Gonna Wash That DNA Right out of My Hair" from "South Pacific". Gez did Dolly Parton's "Workin' 9 to 11:30" which he followed with "I Want to be in America" from West Side Story. Clarry was amazing though, he upstaged us both with "Give em the Old Razzle Dazzle " from "Chicago". The three of us finished off by Irish jigging to "We're in the Money".

Regina Clench was visibly moved. In fact, I noticed she'd become quite wet in her red velvet box! Luckily, sitting aside her in the Royal Box was a handy pack of tissues to wipe up her moist…....eyes. Jumping to a standing ovation Regina yelled "Bravo!" and promptly offered up her best parts, a sight which, I fear, will remain fresh in my mind for some considerable time!

I'm playing "Zorro" (I said it was an eclectic production), Gez, "Evil Baron Hard-up" and Clarry, "Widow Twan.ker." I can't wait for rehearsals! In fact, I've just been reading Regina's script; she's obviously been to see "Miss Saigon" this year cos there's a helicopter descending into a crowd of Viet-Kong as the Act 1 finale. Heaven preserve us!
_________________
The only one whose been hung out to dry is poor old cuddle cat

"Rebelo Without a Cause"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thursday 8th November 2007

This morning I felt at a loose end. Gez had gone to work and Clarry was busy ironing a veritable mountain of the hubby's "smalls." Gez is so particular about his man thongs, he likes them starched and ironed with nothing less than crisp military precision. Clarry doesn't appear to mind, seemingly to enjoy any excuse to handle my husband's underwear. Lets face it, if it weren't for Clarry's big can of starch spray, Gez wouldn't experience any stiffness in his pants at all.

With the kids at school, Gez at work, and Clarry spitting on an iron, I took the opportunity to check my ebay account. I've been quite buoyed up with my recent success, netting over two grand for Jane's picture "Gimp & Child." Unfortunately, the same cannot be said for my other ebay items; t-shirts and wristbands. Nobody seems to want them! I've got thousands in the garage gathering dust.

Lost for something to do and since I'd been offered the role of "Zorro" in the pantomime, I went to brush up on my riding skills. It's been ages since I've had a good ride, the last time being with Buck Broncho when he took me up the paddock at "Castle Crack."

The village riding stables are owned by Camella, an old school friend of mine. Back at school, she was nicknamed "Camel's Foot" due to her full name being "Camella Phutt." I imagine it was a relief for her when she fell in love and married local businessman, David Hoof.

Since taking on the riding stables, she's really gained her confidence! I was only telling Gez the other day how prominent "Camella Hoof" was in a pair of very tight jodhpurs. He completely agreed!

Camella was really pleased to see me and whinnied with delight (she always was a horsy girl). She promptly made arrangements with her strapping stable lad to saddle me up. Noticing the black leather harness and riding whip, I recalled spotting similar items in Clarry's bedroom. Funnily enough, I can't ever remember seeing him on a horse? Must ask him!

I mounted a Portuguese stallion "Rebelo," while Camella barebacked "Amaral." My previous encounter with "Amaral" had left me battered and bruised; the brute has a reputation for throwing women violently to the floor! "Rebelo" on the other hand is playful, almost flirtatious. After gently teasing his mane with my riding crop, I got him very much under my control. Gez had said "Rebelo" would give me an easier ride, and so far he has.

Once the hunky stable lad soaped up our saddles, Camella and I rode like the clappers for most of the afternoon. Her going at it bareback, me very much harnessed in the stirrups. What is it they say; horses sweat, men perspire and women merely glow?! We managed all three. What fun!

Time for a nice relaxing bath. I'll be stiff in the morning which is more than I can say for Gez.
_________________
The only one whose been hung out to dry is poor old cuddle cat

Thursday 8th November 2007 - EVENING (Supplemental)

“Don’t Rain on My Parody”

Clarry had got the kids to bed and I’d just had my hot bath. Gez suggested we all go down the 'TAPas & Stile'. Why not?, the kids were in bed, the pubs just down the road, and after all, given the week I was damn near ready to suck the cork out the bottle.

The pub was heaving; Gez was getting the first round in when I spotted that banana bitch from the Scuttlethorpe estate, Carina! She’s had it in for me ever since I pipped her to the post, grabbing the last pair of half price ‘Janet Reger’ crotch-less panties in the Debenham’s end of season ‘blue cross’ sale.

She’s an ugly looking troll and from where I was sitting, I could see her, in the mirror; Slagging me off! She thinks she’s really something, but in my opinion she’s nothing more than a “board housewife” (sic).

Grabbing my clutch bag, I took out a handy prescription pad. Wasting no time, I scribbled the script and sent Clarry on an errand to the all night chemist while Gez and I got chatty with Heather Milly-Macca. She’d been there a while and was half legless. Sucking on a gin soaked lemon, she explained “I’m waiting on a blind date, some guy called Ken Brianedy off the internet.” From his description I think he’s the guy who came round to fit our double glazing. He’s not short of a few bob either……..Heather!

Clarry got back from the chemist with no problems, although the pharmacist had questioned my prescription of “Chlorothiazide”, a vetinary diuretic with a dosage level recommended for use on an African Elephant.

“Oh look”, I nudged Clarry, “Poor Carina’s nearly finished her drink!, buy her another one.”

Clarry obediently went to the bar and returned with our next round complete with a brown ale for Carina. “How many should I put in?” he whispered. “THREE!” I replied coldly! The ale fizzed a little, but nothing that couldn’t be explained by a fresh barrel. Carina drank with all the finesse of an Irish navvy. Catching her eye, I raised my Martini glass and gestured, “Cheers”.

“Watch and wait” I said slowly, not blinking once!

In the corner of the bar Carina was turning green. She crossed her legs tightly, leaning forward in an attempt to relieve the pressure building within her bladder. Nothing else for it, making her dash for the toilet she tripped over a false leg someone had carelessly left lying around, (oh Heather!!!!).

Falling 'arse over tit' and very much raining on her own parade, she shamefully pissed herself! We pissed ourselves too, only we were pissing ourselves laughing.

Gez often say’s “Revenge is a dish best served cold”. I say revenge is best served deliciously warm, preferably in a pool of your own pee!

SWEET!
_________________
In the absence of fact, read Fiction.
Every character in the Diary of a Naive Woman is fictional, EXCEPT FOR 1. I'll Never tell!!!!

Friday 9th November 2007
"Divali or Ramadan-a-Ding-Dong?"

It was 2am by the time we got home. I was completely lashed, Gez wasn't much better. None of us had keys and someone had "locked us out." Luckily, Gez remembered leaving the rear patio doors open. Clarry, still giggling, suggested we go through the back entrance.

That was when we made a sobering discovery. We'd had an intruder! I got on the phone to 'Sky News' immediately where Kirsty was working the night shift. Gosh, she's a 'Chatty Cathy'. It was a good forty minutes before I had the chance to call the police.

When Sergeant Hard-ache arrived he looked puzzled. Everything was pretty much in place, possibly tidier than before. "So what exactly" he paused, "makes you think you've had an intruder?"

"Can't you see?" I threw my hands up. "The sodding place has been re-decorated. Those walls were yellow, now they're powder blue!" Clarry was sobbing deeply on the sofa; the only things taken were his precious CD's. Liza, Judy, Babs, Cher, Madonna….all gone!

"Have you checked the kitchen?" asked Sergeant Hard-ache. I quickly ran in. It was gleaming, the washing up done, pans stacked neatly and I found a freshly baked quiche in the fridge. "Just as I suspected" he took out his police note book. "Gay burglars!" he nodded, "there's been a spate of similar break-ins in the village."

Actually, Sergeant Hard-ache was lovely, putting his arm around Clarry to gently stroke his trembling hands. I could see if there had been trouble the stocky Sergeant had come well prepared; he was packing a huge truncheon in his trouser pocket!

He took Clarry by the arm, "We'll need to go somewhere private, so I can...erm, take down your particulars." Clarry was visibly cheered when Sergeant Hard-ache went on to say;

"Don't worry son, I'll soon get to the bottom of things."

I'd be surprised if there were any pages left in that policeman's notebook. They were at it for 3 hours! I later asked Clarry what he thought of Hard-ache. He replied "Both those things." I've pondered that comment all afternoon and still don't know what he meant by it?

Given all the hoo-har, I'd only gone and forgotton to check on the kids. It was alright. It appears they slept right through the commotion.

Must dash! We're all going over to the Indian restaurant tonight to celebrate Divali, or is it Ramadan, never sure? There's going to be more fireworks too. Clarry's taking his "pulsing thruster" and he's hoping Sukdeep will have a "fiery ring."

Anyway, if it's not Divali, I'm sure it will be a Ramadan-a-ding-dong.

Ta-ta
_________________
In the absence of fact, read Fiction.
Every character in the Diary of a Naive Woman is fictional, EXCEPT FOR 1. I'll Never tell!!!!