A day of miracles of medical science
I passed some women in the street and over herd them talking about how one of them was going into hospital tomorrow to have there cartridge done, you cartridge done in there over weight arthritic knee. Not Cartilage, but their cartridge. And then the replying woman said “my frank had to have is cartage done too… he was of work for 4 weeks.” Peasants
Then a bloke came in my shop and asked me if I could examine his teeth. His fucking teeth. I explained (very slowly) that an optician deals with eyes. He looked at me a bit put out and said well this is a medical sort of place and it must be a similar sort of thing….
And the best of all. A bloke said his aunty (he defiantly said aunty I checked) was dieing of prostate cancer
Now I’m pretty sure that the prostate is a male only bit of anatomy. (Happy for anyone to prove me wrong) I know that there are plenty of unused “cross over” bits of anatomy. Eg I know that a couple of years ago. More men actually died of breast cancer than women. But when I said did he mean pancreatic cancer. (coz they sound a bit simaler…. Well they both start with a P) nope he got mildly angry and insisted it was prostate cancer and his aunty.
Suppose she could be a hermaphrodite. But as far as I know there pretty dead in the reproduction bits, so I’m not sure they would have a gland that deals with the production of population paste.
But like I said I'm not an expert
Friday, November 30, 2007
Saturday, November 24, 2007
The seen, me tapping away on the compy.
Enter old man
“hello. Can I help you?”
“its alright lad…. I can see”
“ok….?”
“ive just been using the cash mashine next door”
“ok…..?”
“its giving me trouble”
“right?”
“it gave me 10 pounds”
“right……”
“I wanted 2 fivers”
“ok…. You do realsis that this is an opticians and the cash mashine next door is on the wall of the actulal bank that it belongs to?”
“yes”
(I look at him blankly)
“cant you just give me 2 fivers”
“no…. try the bank”
“fine… sorry to put you out” (said quite sarcasticly)
“thank you bye bye…….(door closes) ”
Enter old man
“hello. Can I help you?”
“its alright lad…. I can see”
“ok….?”
“ive just been using the cash mashine next door”
“ok…..?”
“its giving me trouble”
“right?”
“it gave me 10 pounds”
“right……”
“I wanted 2 fivers”
“ok…. You do realsis that this is an opticians and the cash mashine next door is on the wall of the actulal bank that it belongs to?”
“yes”
(I look at him blankly)
“cant you just give me 2 fivers”
“no…. try the bank”
“fine… sorry to put you out” (said quite sarcasticly)
“thank you bye bye…….(door closes) ”
Thursday, November 22, 2007
Gambling the slippery slope
Now I’m not sure if I’m working class or middle class, I’m probably a fine line between upper working and lower middle. Everyone that when we get into this banned pub conversion has a different opion of me. Banned pub topics also include, science, politics, philosophy, time travel, the speed of light, soseo economic groupings, immigration, the media, nimmo club, and anything wongo says.
So basically I’m not very good at pretending to be working class and I’m just passable at work pretending to be a little bit middle class when the ocation calls for it. I’m generally paseved to be a drip by builder’s mechanics plumbers and roofers. This is probably why I can never get my car fixed.
“Excuse me”
“What?”
“Hullo, I was wondering if I could book my car in, there seems to be a problem with the fuel management chip”
“Yeah?”
“Well the engine seems to be revving uncontrollably”
“You sure?”
“Well yes”
“Ok well take a look”
I come back 9 hours later after sitting on my ass all day coz I have no car.
“Hullo again, some one was supposed to phone me to say….”
“What?”
“Umm… is my car fixed?”
“na …. Didn’t get around to it.”
“ohh….so….umm”
“well il have a look tomorrow.”
“but I need it to morrow to get to work. That’s why I came in today”
“well… you best book it in for next week then”
“ok”
day wasted
Cutting a long story short when they finally did look at it the said it was broken, but couldn’t be bothered to fix it as the job was a bit of a hassle, the car was still moving, so what’s the pint. Well I thought the point would be to not help exhaust the worlds supply of petrol unnecessarily.
My main problem with middle class people is I can’t tell when they’re winding me up. Or if I can I just find it so unamuseing I carry on as normal as if to go “ha ha I can see right threw your stupid game I know the haven’t taken gullible out of the dictionary I only said oh on have they why? I used that word a lot what am I going to do now” but it always backfires and I wind up looking thick.
My mate Chris has written a similar blog about this and his own experiences I cant be bothered to link you to the exact article, but its linked in the margin to his blog.
I can handle going into a spit and saw dust pub in my suit. You get a few stairs, but as soon as you say “pint of fosters please, mate” that’s you fine. Mate the word of the working class, the pass word the let them know your in their club. And you have to use manners in the wrong order, like they are tacked on like you normal forget or wouldn’t use them.
“Please may I have a pint of fosters” becomes “pint of fosters. Please. Mate.”
Simple switch round and your covered.
Getting on to the point. Bookies, bookmakers, betting shops. Inhabited my tramps lo lifes and dogs on bits of string. These places are as un known to me as the dark side of the sun. I have been in them maybe once or twice. First time was with a guy from collage who wanted to put a bet on. We went in and I looked at the banks of TV screens with pretty much hieroglyphics on. The stench of smoke and old man piss hit me like a train. And you can tell by looking at some people that’s what they do, they go in 10 to 5, and blow their money. Shit when I retire I plan on doing that but just in a pub instead. At least ill get something out of it. (Probably serosis of the liver)
As I walked passed the bookies I saw the odds on Croatia winning was 7 – 1. Now that’s not a bad return. And that if I put a bet on them winning 2-0 that was 40 to 1. So if I placed two bets fiver on each. And Croatia do win 2-0 I get almost 250 sterling’s, if Croatia just win that 40sterlings, so tenner terns into 40 quid or if I’m really lucky £245. I thought that’s not a bad idea. Mum has brought me up not to gamble. And I have seen mates do it and loose a lot of money. I don’t Evan play fruit machines. I do play quiz machines but that’s coz I like the quiz part not the tiny chance I could win some money. The ways England have been playing. An id don’t know much about football, but I know that Gerard and lampard cant play together (I herd it in the pub so it must be true), and that putting in a 22 year old goal keeper with hardly any experience was probably a bad idea. I was thinking more and more that my bet was a good idea. But to go in the bookies was another. 2 years ago. I saw that lordi where 17 to 1 to win Eurovision. And I let that slip me by coz I wouldn’t go in and brave the dirty people. I had a look at betting web sites, but I had to sign up and then pay with a credit card and then take my money back off them and they charged to actually get you winnings and stuff. Waste of time and bad idea. Worst thing was tho. I have no idea who to fill in a betting slip. I sqoured the inter net for help. Al I could find was I had to go and Wright it don on a betting slip, ask about the odds, pay, then hopefully win. I was panicking coz I cant Evan spell Croatia. Just as I had plucked up the courage two blokes came out of the bookies and into my shop. They had more flys on them than the average Ethiopian in a comic relief video. 20 min later, id finished working on my deep breathing exercises to get ready for the possible 5 mins I would have to hold my breath. Hold you breath avoid eye contact, you don’t want anyone talking to you. GO GO GO. I’m in. screens, paper, tramps everyware. Shit! Fuck what slips are for what? People are looking at me! I’m in the way of the TV, where some strange looking animals are racing. Cock it! Spots me a sign for football. Yes! Over there! There are loads of different types of slip. All different matches all different forms. I find the right one I tick the boxes. I take it to the woman at the counter that looks lonely without a B&H hanging from the side of her mouth. I hand it over. “Please could you check it, I’m new at this” she looks at me funny and reads out my bet loud. Croatia to win, and Croatia to win 2 – 0” “um yeah that right” I here the audible ruffle from everyone in the place turning to stare at me. “He’s betting against England” I gulp. “He’s unpatriotic”. It was almost like panto. I was pretty much booed and hissed as I pass over my money. I darted for the door and back to the safety of my shop.
Now I have to go back and get my winnings, I'm expecting a lynch mob of old men is macs that smell like yak piss to waiting to string me up and set there little dogs on bits of string leads on me.
I accidentally turned tom into a gambler too. His betting system was crazy. I hope he wrights a guest bit. Ill try to convince him
*************************************************************************************
guest blog from tom
Well Harry asked me to write a bit on his blog of our gambling exploits over the Croatia V England football fixture in which we lost. Harry chose a likely result of Croatia to win which was like 7/1 so £5 got £40 return. He also put £5 on Croatia 2-0 which was at 40/1. Which would have got him £205 for his original £5. This made me laugh so I put on a very obscure bet. Neither me nor Harry had put a bet on before so was pretty hilarious just talking about it. Harry went for what he thought as a dead cert and just a chance of 2-0 as the payoff was good. So I thought, you know what, Fuck it. So I went for Croatia to win 1-0 and chose the guy who hadn’t scored in like 5 years to get the goal. This was at 120/1. So my £5 would have got me £605 return, which as a student, would suit me very well. But due to my conscience, I was pretty sure I wasn’t going to win. So I put on 2 more bets to cover any possible loss. And these bets are what prompted Harry to ask me to write a blog. I put on £3.08 on a draw which was at 9/4, so this got me £10.01 back. I also put on £1.92 on Croatia to win. This was 7/1 so I would have made back £15.36. Since I spent £10 on the 3 bets, as long as England didn’t win, I would make back between 1p and £610.36. After only 9 minutes or so my £605 win was off the cards as somebody else scored the first goal. And 10 minutes into the second half Harry’s £205 stake was lost. So we are both playing over Xbox live, with his sister giving us goal updates as we hope that England lose. Very patriotic I know. The final score 3-2 to Croatia, Harry wins £40 with a £35 profit, I win £15.36 with a £5.36 profit. The jobs a good’un. And the moral of this story. Bet for the most random thing you can, but make sure you cover yourself with other bets to make sure you don’t lose any money.
*************************************************************************************
Now I’m not sure if I’m working class or middle class, I’m probably a fine line between upper working and lower middle. Everyone that when we get into this banned pub conversion has a different opion of me. Banned pub topics also include, science, politics, philosophy, time travel, the speed of light, soseo economic groupings, immigration, the media, nimmo club, and anything wongo says.
So basically I’m not very good at pretending to be working class and I’m just passable at work pretending to be a little bit middle class when the ocation calls for it. I’m generally paseved to be a drip by builder’s mechanics plumbers and roofers. This is probably why I can never get my car fixed.
“Excuse me”
“What?”
“Hullo, I was wondering if I could book my car in, there seems to be a problem with the fuel management chip”
“Yeah?”
“Well the engine seems to be revving uncontrollably”
“You sure?”
“Well yes”
“Ok well take a look”
I come back 9 hours later after sitting on my ass all day coz I have no car.
“Hullo again, some one was supposed to phone me to say….”
“What?”
“Umm… is my car fixed?”
“na …. Didn’t get around to it.”
“ohh….so….umm”
“well il have a look tomorrow.”
“but I need it to morrow to get to work. That’s why I came in today”
“well… you best book it in for next week then”
“ok”
day wasted
Cutting a long story short when they finally did look at it the said it was broken, but couldn’t be bothered to fix it as the job was a bit of a hassle, the car was still moving, so what’s the pint. Well I thought the point would be to not help exhaust the worlds supply of petrol unnecessarily.
My main problem with middle class people is I can’t tell when they’re winding me up. Or if I can I just find it so unamuseing I carry on as normal as if to go “ha ha I can see right threw your stupid game I know the haven’t taken gullible out of the dictionary I only said oh on have they why? I used that word a lot what am I going to do now” but it always backfires and I wind up looking thick.
My mate Chris has written a similar blog about this and his own experiences I cant be bothered to link you to the exact article, but its linked in the margin to his blog.
I can handle going into a spit and saw dust pub in my suit. You get a few stairs, but as soon as you say “pint of fosters please, mate” that’s you fine. Mate the word of the working class, the pass word the let them know your in their club. And you have to use manners in the wrong order, like they are tacked on like you normal forget or wouldn’t use them.
“Please may I have a pint of fosters” becomes “pint of fosters. Please. Mate.”
Simple switch round and your covered.
Getting on to the point. Bookies, bookmakers, betting shops. Inhabited my tramps lo lifes and dogs on bits of string. These places are as un known to me as the dark side of the sun. I have been in them maybe once or twice. First time was with a guy from collage who wanted to put a bet on. We went in and I looked at the banks of TV screens with pretty much hieroglyphics on. The stench of smoke and old man piss hit me like a train. And you can tell by looking at some people that’s what they do, they go in 10 to 5, and blow their money. Shit when I retire I plan on doing that but just in a pub instead. At least ill get something out of it. (Probably serosis of the liver)
As I walked passed the bookies I saw the odds on Croatia winning was 7 – 1. Now that’s not a bad return. And that if I put a bet on them winning 2-0 that was 40 to 1. So if I placed two bets fiver on each. And Croatia do win 2-0 I get almost 250 sterling’s, if Croatia just win that 40sterlings, so tenner terns into 40 quid or if I’m really lucky £245. I thought that’s not a bad idea. Mum has brought me up not to gamble. And I have seen mates do it and loose a lot of money. I don’t Evan play fruit machines. I do play quiz machines but that’s coz I like the quiz part not the tiny chance I could win some money. The ways England have been playing. An id don’t know much about football, but I know that Gerard and lampard cant play together (I herd it in the pub so it must be true), and that putting in a 22 year old goal keeper with hardly any experience was probably a bad idea. I was thinking more and more that my bet was a good idea. But to go in the bookies was another. 2 years ago. I saw that lordi where 17 to 1 to win Eurovision. And I let that slip me by coz I wouldn’t go in and brave the dirty people. I had a look at betting web sites, but I had to sign up and then pay with a credit card and then take my money back off them and they charged to actually get you winnings and stuff. Waste of time and bad idea. Worst thing was tho. I have no idea who to fill in a betting slip. I sqoured the inter net for help. Al I could find was I had to go and Wright it don on a betting slip, ask about the odds, pay, then hopefully win. I was panicking coz I cant Evan spell Croatia. Just as I had plucked up the courage two blokes came out of the bookies and into my shop. They had more flys on them than the average Ethiopian in a comic relief video. 20 min later, id finished working on my deep breathing exercises to get ready for the possible 5 mins I would have to hold my breath. Hold you breath avoid eye contact, you don’t want anyone talking to you. GO GO GO. I’m in. screens, paper, tramps everyware. Shit! Fuck what slips are for what? People are looking at me! I’m in the way of the TV, where some strange looking animals are racing. Cock it! Spots me a sign for football. Yes! Over there! There are loads of different types of slip. All different matches all different forms. I find the right one I tick the boxes. I take it to the woman at the counter that looks lonely without a B&H hanging from the side of her mouth. I hand it over. “Please could you check it, I’m new at this” she looks at me funny and reads out my bet loud. Croatia to win, and Croatia to win 2 – 0” “um yeah that right” I here the audible ruffle from everyone in the place turning to stare at me. “He’s betting against England” I gulp. “He’s unpatriotic”. It was almost like panto. I was pretty much booed and hissed as I pass over my money. I darted for the door and back to the safety of my shop.
Now I have to go back and get my winnings, I'm expecting a lynch mob of old men is macs that smell like yak piss to waiting to string me up and set there little dogs on bits of string leads on me.
I accidentally turned tom into a gambler too. His betting system was crazy. I hope he wrights a guest bit. Ill try to convince him
*************************************************************************************
guest blog from tom
Well Harry asked me to write a bit on his blog of our gambling exploits over the Croatia V England football fixture in which we lost. Harry chose a likely result of Croatia to win which was like 7/1 so £5 got £40 return. He also put £5 on Croatia 2-0 which was at 40/1. Which would have got him £205 for his original £5. This made me laugh so I put on a very obscure bet. Neither me nor Harry had put a bet on before so was pretty hilarious just talking about it. Harry went for what he thought as a dead cert and just a chance of 2-0 as the payoff was good. So I thought, you know what, Fuck it. So I went for Croatia to win 1-0 and chose the guy who hadn’t scored in like 5 years to get the goal. This was at 120/1. So my £5 would have got me £605 return, which as a student, would suit me very well. But due to my conscience, I was pretty sure I wasn’t going to win. So I put on 2 more bets to cover any possible loss. And these bets are what prompted Harry to ask me to write a blog. I put on £3.08 on a draw which was at 9/4, so this got me £10.01 back. I also put on £1.92 on Croatia to win. This was 7/1 so I would have made back £15.36. Since I spent £10 on the 3 bets, as long as England didn’t win, I would make back between 1p and £610.36. After only 9 minutes or so my £605 win was off the cards as somebody else scored the first goal. And 10 minutes into the second half Harry’s £205 stake was lost. So we are both playing over Xbox live, with his sister giving us goal updates as we hope that England lose. Very patriotic I know. The final score 3-2 to Croatia, Harry wins £40 with a £35 profit, I win £15.36 with a £5.36 profit. The jobs a good’un. And the moral of this story. Bet for the most random thing you can, but make sure you cover yourself with other bets to make sure you don’t lose any money.
*************************************************************************************
Monday, November 19, 2007
Hell on earth
Theirs something about Andover and Friday nights…. Its just goes crazy. I’m the only person who has to go to work on Saturday so I can’t go wild. But it always does. So I try to avoid going out. Then when I'm up for full on liver destruction and it Saturday night all my mates have destroyed their livers and there bank balance the night before.
This week was lees birthday. That reminds me its today. Better fire off a txt
Friday was Andover and Saturday was Southampton. With a little tequila I did myself a mischief on Friday and I knew that Saturday was going to be tamer as everyone went for it on Friday. But we ended up in reflex
The horror
If there is anything thing I have been too sober for in my life it was that place. It’s an 80’s club. The problem with the 80’s is apart from most of you lot reading this being born then we don’t rely remember a fat lot. Yeah we have childhood play memories. But know what was going on and what was in the charts. It’s not until the 90’s and cracking into are adolescents that we really stated paying attention. And most of the music they where playing in there was really from the early 90’s when lets face it pop music became shit. There was the split where people started either cracking out shell suits and glow sticks. Or putting on dirty jeans, black tee shirts and padded lumber jack shirts. You watched top of the pops to see if there was any chance that the music you like could accidentally creep on and get away with it for 3 and a half mins.
So I was in a place playing music from a different decade to what was advertised, surrounded by a crush of people that think they remember the 80’s but where most likely born in 1988, and then on the out skirts where people actually old enough to remember the 80’s and probly the 70’s nursing an over prised bottle of beer staring at the puffy white flesh of the teenagers on the stage trying to pole dance to Gonna Make You Sweat (Everybody Dance Now) (with came out in 1991) (or possibly 1990 depending on if you where in the usa or not eather why it misses the 80 by about a year) most of the sweaty puffy flesh kids probubly wondering why there isnt the “rock this party” being shouted over the track, (what kind of crazy remix is that). The place evan had staff walking arounf with optics fild with corkeys witch is the current trendy “shot”. Probubly more fucking suger in it that alcahol. All the crazy kids seem to like the cream egg flavor one. Dear god have it come to this they have to make alcahol sweets falovor, im shure soon ther will be some sweets/alcahol/corporate cross over. “ladyes and gentalmen I give you the vodka smarties mcflurry.
So inshort if you want to enjoy reflex. Buy 20 cream eggs, 1 hyperdermic saringe, and a bottle of vodka. Inject vodka into the cream eggs, then eat them. Now do you feel that sickness, that dabetic coma coming on? Now drink the rest of the vodaka. Go to reflex. Hold the contence of your stomach, and be drunk enouth to not care of your saroundings.
Welcome to hell. Welcome to reflex
Theirs something about Andover and Friday nights…. Its just goes crazy. I’m the only person who has to go to work on Saturday so I can’t go wild. But it always does. So I try to avoid going out. Then when I'm up for full on liver destruction and it Saturday night all my mates have destroyed their livers and there bank balance the night before.
This week was lees birthday. That reminds me its today. Better fire off a txt
Friday was Andover and Saturday was Southampton. With a little tequila I did myself a mischief on Friday and I knew that Saturday was going to be tamer as everyone went for it on Friday. But we ended up in reflex
The horror
If there is anything thing I have been too sober for in my life it was that place. It’s an 80’s club. The problem with the 80’s is apart from most of you lot reading this being born then we don’t rely remember a fat lot. Yeah we have childhood play memories. But know what was going on and what was in the charts. It’s not until the 90’s and cracking into are adolescents that we really stated paying attention. And most of the music they where playing in there was really from the early 90’s when lets face it pop music became shit. There was the split where people started either cracking out shell suits and glow sticks. Or putting on dirty jeans, black tee shirts and padded lumber jack shirts. You watched top of the pops to see if there was any chance that the music you like could accidentally creep on and get away with it for 3 and a half mins.
So I was in a place playing music from a different decade to what was advertised, surrounded by a crush of people that think they remember the 80’s but where most likely born in 1988, and then on the out skirts where people actually old enough to remember the 80’s and probly the 70’s nursing an over prised bottle of beer staring at the puffy white flesh of the teenagers on the stage trying to pole dance to Gonna Make You Sweat (Everybody Dance Now) (with came out in 1991) (or possibly 1990 depending on if you where in the usa or not eather why it misses the 80 by about a year) most of the sweaty puffy flesh kids probubly wondering why there isnt the “rock this party” being shouted over the track, (what kind of crazy remix is that). The place evan had staff walking arounf with optics fild with corkeys witch is the current trendy “shot”. Probubly more fucking suger in it that alcahol. All the crazy kids seem to like the cream egg flavor one. Dear god have it come to this they have to make alcahol sweets falovor, im shure soon ther will be some sweets/alcahol/corporate cross over. “ladyes and gentalmen I give you the vodka smarties mcflurry.
So inshort if you want to enjoy reflex. Buy 20 cream eggs, 1 hyperdermic saringe, and a bottle of vodka. Inject vodka into the cream eggs, then eat them. Now do you feel that sickness, that dabetic coma coming on? Now drink the rest of the vodaka. Go to reflex. Hold the contence of your stomach, and be drunk enouth to not care of your saroundings.
Welcome to hell. Welcome to reflex
Thursday, November 15, 2007
Just not cut out for life
Im sure that in natural selection im the little fat one at the back with the gammy leg. If it weren’t for modern meds and torturing animals I wouldn’t be here. Probably my diet of beer bacon and Chinese take aways, doesn’t help. But the bacons grilled, the Chinese is with out MSG and cooked by a ti chi master, and the beer is crisp and cold. Mummmm beer.
But anyhoo I decided best do a bit of running about as my man boobies or moobes as I like to call them are getting bigger than an a cup, and stares are becoming in inconvenience. (Not relly). Golf relly wasn’t much exercise for a 26 year old. So badders it was. 6 months later and a few achy legs I was running around more and more so I upped it to twice a week. Now 3 month later a have popped in a few games of squash.
So the last week has gone. Fri, squash, Sunday squash, Monday badders, Tuesday squash, Wednesday badders, Thursday squash. Its Thursday and im supposed to be playing squash tonight. The only thing is ive destroyed my elbow. I could barely pick up the shopping. Witch consisted of a 2ltr bottle of water pint of milk and a newspaper. My health is a constant battle. Mouth ulcers, whitlows, head aches. Its almost is if I have radiation poisoning.
Can’t wait till they clone me a new body ill have my body back when I was 19. That way I can wreck it again. Wonder if they can give me a bigger pee pee.
Im sure that in natural selection im the little fat one at the back with the gammy leg. If it weren’t for modern meds and torturing animals I wouldn’t be here. Probably my diet of beer bacon and Chinese take aways, doesn’t help. But the bacons grilled, the Chinese is with out MSG and cooked by a ti chi master, and the beer is crisp and cold. Mummmm beer.
But anyhoo I decided best do a bit of running about as my man boobies or moobes as I like to call them are getting bigger than an a cup, and stares are becoming in inconvenience. (Not relly). Golf relly wasn’t much exercise for a 26 year old. So badders it was. 6 months later and a few achy legs I was running around more and more so I upped it to twice a week. Now 3 month later a have popped in a few games of squash.
So the last week has gone. Fri, squash, Sunday squash, Monday badders, Tuesday squash, Wednesday badders, Thursday squash. Its Thursday and im supposed to be playing squash tonight. The only thing is ive destroyed my elbow. I could barely pick up the shopping. Witch consisted of a 2ltr bottle of water pint of milk and a newspaper. My health is a constant battle. Mouth ulcers, whitlows, head aches. Its almost is if I have radiation poisoning.
Can’t wait till they clone me a new body ill have my body back when I was 19. That way I can wreck it again. Wonder if they can give me a bigger pee pee.
Saturday, November 10, 2007
Monday, November 05, 2007
Family fun
My step dad has some off ways. He moans at me all the time about me owning things. He refers to my property as “bildge”. “Oh you have got a new TV I hope its not coming in this house… filling my house up with all your bildge”. Basically everything that’s can fit under my bed is in my car. Please don’t steal it. But like my kites, golf clubs, shoes and clothes. Yeah it’s really stupid. As well. We are not allowed to use the second bathroom. He used the main bathroom for serten things and wont do those in his on sweet. But whilst hes in there we are not allowed to use the other room. So bluntly he on purposely makes me late for work by taking a shit and wont let me clean my teeth in his bathroom. Also the shower on the main bathroom is broken. And the on sweet shower is fine. So hes ok. And wont fix the broken one. But we are not allowed to use his one. We have to have a small bath. With the other day monitored how much water I was using. And my bath apparently must be no deeper than a puddle. Witch means my bum and feet are nice and clean.
Any that’s turning into a moan, but hopefully that gives you an idea what hes like.
My lovely mother turned into a mother hen and went. Ohh its winter my babies need more quilts. And without telling me changed my quilt. She changed my normal fine quilt to one that some polar explorer would thing as a bit over kill. My room is fucking hot anyway. Two reasons one the hot water pipes run underneath it, and two. My ps3 xbox 360 and monitor produce more heat per minuet than a hydrogen bomb. So my room is plenty warm. Infect mum always walks in my room and complains how hot it is and insists I open a window. Witch comically turns out to be already wide open. This happens at least twice a week. But no I need a new 600 tog duvet coz its winter.
I kept waking up in the night thinking I had influenza. I was quite literally (not to gross you out but) pouring with sweat. I thought I was having a crazy fever. I was panicking that I was going to super ill and I HAD to go to work. So I kept just trying to sleep to hope I got better by morning. When I woke up I was laying in more water than im allowed in a bath. Mum walks in “morning. Pheeew its hot in here…. Hows you new duvet?”
Now my step dad is in that bathroom, the other siblings are in the queue and I stink like I have died and lat a yak piss on me. And then had to beg to be able to use the shower. Because im unreasonable wanting a shower and why couldn’t I just have a bath with everyone else in the bathroom.
Twat
My step dad has some off ways. He moans at me all the time about me owning things. He refers to my property as “bildge”. “Oh you have got a new TV I hope its not coming in this house… filling my house up with all your bildge”. Basically everything that’s can fit under my bed is in my car. Please don’t steal it. But like my kites, golf clubs, shoes and clothes. Yeah it’s really stupid. As well. We are not allowed to use the second bathroom. He used the main bathroom for serten things and wont do those in his on sweet. But whilst hes in there we are not allowed to use the other room. So bluntly he on purposely makes me late for work by taking a shit and wont let me clean my teeth in his bathroom. Also the shower on the main bathroom is broken. And the on sweet shower is fine. So hes ok. And wont fix the broken one. But we are not allowed to use his one. We have to have a small bath. With the other day monitored how much water I was using. And my bath apparently must be no deeper than a puddle. Witch means my bum and feet are nice and clean.
Any that’s turning into a moan, but hopefully that gives you an idea what hes like.
My lovely mother turned into a mother hen and went. Ohh its winter my babies need more quilts. And without telling me changed my quilt. She changed my normal fine quilt to one that some polar explorer would thing as a bit over kill. My room is fucking hot anyway. Two reasons one the hot water pipes run underneath it, and two. My ps3 xbox 360 and monitor produce more heat per minuet than a hydrogen bomb. So my room is plenty warm. Infect mum always walks in my room and complains how hot it is and insists I open a window. Witch comically turns out to be already wide open. This happens at least twice a week. But no I need a new 600 tog duvet coz its winter.
I kept waking up in the night thinking I had influenza. I was quite literally (not to gross you out but) pouring with sweat. I thought I was having a crazy fever. I was panicking that I was going to super ill and I HAD to go to work. So I kept just trying to sleep to hope I got better by morning. When I woke up I was laying in more water than im allowed in a bath. Mum walks in “morning. Pheeew its hot in here…. Hows you new duvet?”
Now my step dad is in that bathroom, the other siblings are in the queue and I stink like I have died and lat a yak piss on me. And then had to beg to be able to use the shower. Because im unreasonable wanting a shower and why couldn’t I just have a bath with everyone else in the bathroom.
Twat
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