Fun fer all
Due to someone busting my chops this is a rough draft.......
The day of the funeral, what a scorcher.
It was a bit of a giggle to be honest. I don't mean that it was a jolly day out for all the family it wasn't like going to the circus or anything, can't recommend it as a must do on a weekend type thing, but it wasn't bad.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Rx-4CiBmIPY" loop="true" >
It was nice to dress up for a change, traditional attire black tie suit and fuck me the thing still fits, bargain, would have been so upset if I had to buy a fat bastard suit.
Spent the day looking for a mule !!!! I kid you not a frigging mule. The shoe not a half breed combo you understand. The missus wanted a pair of shoes from the attic, so up I go. The description I had was vague to say the least. A black shoe with a thing across the front it has a heel. Woman know the difference between shoes they know a flip flop from a sandal, they know a stiletto from a high heel, they know these things, fook knows how they know they just do. I on the other hand haven't a scooby doo. So there I am, in a hot attic on a hot day in the near fooking dark hunting a mule - Elmer fucking Fudd I shit you not, a hunting mules we a go. "Is it this one" - I yell four times before she hears me, sweat is dripping in places, sweat shouldn't be. "No, that's a sandal", "this one" - "nooooo" after several attempts she's getting the hump I'm getting the foooking hump. In our attic there are bags and bags of crap, all back bags all tied all full of shite, "this one....." "no, oh for gods sakes a foooking mule has a black thing on the front opened..." fuck me she's off on one, I block her noise out, hmmm a book I haven't read for a while, I sit down on a bag of crap and thumb through it, sitting in the dimly lit space of the roof reading about north American Indians - red skins - native Americans whatever they call themselves these days, I thought this would be nice I could live up here. She's still babbling on about mules the kids are screaming, so yes I'm going to live in the attic. Might be cold in the winter and at night and hot in the summer, might be a bit smelly, but, yes livable. I can make a little hatch in the girls room and in the evening pop my head out and bid them goodnight another one in the loo to do my business, I'll have to be a good shot but it is a workable idea. I'll have to change the 5 watt lamp in there but hay not too bad. I'll have my own little Basher pad.
Back to reality how long could I sit in the semi darkness reading old books and living of spiders, not long I bet. So back to the mule hunting but by now we both knew it was a futile attempt, the sparkle had gone the fizz had popped, it was as flat as a witches tit. "Isss this the one.....", "no, that's a lamp !!!!!" "fuck it go bare foooking foooted" I scream - that's it now world war foooking 3, 4 and fooking 5 is going to happen....
Sitting in the dark awaiting the volley of abuse..... Still waiting.....Silence...... I'm getting scared now...... "OK" came the reply ....... And that was it, shit now what is she going to slap me when I descend. No bet she kicks the steps away as I'm teetering on the top. I carefully make my way to the hatch. I peer down into the light. Nothing. I retreat to my hiding place. What now. If I find the shoes all will be well. I look around the gloom bags and bags of crap. Who am I kidding.... Sod it bite the bullet. I peer out. Nobody is about. It's quiet too quiet. All I need now is a fooking tumble weed and a church bell.
I step onto the steps, then quickly off. Looking down, nothing. Step out again then another. Still same gravity must be turned off. Finally hitting terra firma. I peer around the doorway into our bedroom........
"I've got you a shirt. I'll iron it in a minuet. The kids are already......." Fook me who's this woman in front of me. Bet she's got a knife or a bat or a bat with a knife attached under the pillow.... Nothing I've cracked it - I'm immune - I'm a god - all these years and all I had to do was wait until the old dear had popped her clogs and bingo bango immunity.
We, well Allyson asked her mate to drop us over the old fellas house. She has a 7 seater and to be honest waiting for taxis just don't need it, especially today. What a foooking disaster, she, Pauline, arrived 45 minutes early - with her kid, like it was a fooking day out for them, then all she done was moan. Bad back, knees hurting bitching about her other children - she's one of those people if your cat was on fire her house would/was/has been in a, I don't know - a volcano - whatever you have she's either had better or is going to have better soon. She's about 50 with shoulder length mousy brown hair which always looks greasy she has the reddest face - ever, she's as skinny as a Peter Stringfellows thong and just about as appealing and she looks smelly - she's not, but by fuck she looks it. But she's Allys mate so bite my tongue , hard. Oh and she has this annoying habit of saying "and how's Bishop?" in a condinsending way, (every time I have seen her after the funeral she asks about my dad, she's never met him - the woman irks me gggrrrrrr)
We piled into this 7 seater. The boot has less room than our bluemobile, we had to squash the double buggy in, Pauline stood there with a face like a slapped ass, telling us that Jess isn't strapped in and how I've got to get into the back of the car. Bite harder....
I'm stuck in the fooking back with Keria, it's got about as much room as a fat lads lunch box. My knees are up by my chin, or should that be my chins are down by my knees I can't move a fooking muscle - Paulines yelling put your seat belt on put your seat belt on - FUCK OFF. I'm, going to bite my tongue in half.... I'm suited and booted crammed in a car which is fooooking boiling, I'm sweating like Elvis. I can't move my legs. Limited movement full stop. And she's giving me shite. Bite harder......
I try to look at the time but there's no room - even my eye balls are cramped - 13:18. Ok so we're going to be a little late, she pulls off OK, she drives to her house gets out and goes inside - Rose her little pale faced fat little fucker decides to undo her seatbelt and start to get out of the car. Allyson decides to walk to the end of the road and get some stuff for the kids and a packet of smokes for me (but she doesn't tell me this until later, a surprise she says) I sat in a black suit and tie surrounded by children, who are squabbling. In a foooking hot car, the two adults have both just baled out and left me with 4 children one of which gives me the creeps (Rose by the way) I'm sat there thinking what the fuck is going on....
Pauline returns to the car and I inform her Allyson has just walked to the shop. Instead of driving toward the shop we just sit there and wait. I'm getting a bit miffed now I explain as we have to drive past the shop should we go and pick Ally up outside - off we go pulling behind a lorry and about 5 cars. Ally can't see us. I have to tell Pauline to get out of the car and get her. Off we go again..... Tounge's hanging off.
-----------------------
The funeral cars arrived and it was another semi strange experience. Nobody knew what to do which car to get into so we're all just stood around, looking like gormless twats in dark suits sweating. We final decided who goes where we load the double buggy - but no it won't fit in the boot. For a large car there's no fooking boot space, I suggest we slip it in with the old dear - not that she'll mind but we decide to put it in passenger seat of the other car. When I go I'm going to have a coffin strapped to a Robin Reliants roof rack, fuck all this shite.
At the crematorium the cars pull around to the front of the (what is it it's not a church?) building. And do you know what I think I reconside about 3 people. We went in after the coffin. Took our seats a few people patted me on the back not in a congratulations way but one of condonances. The vicar, priest whoever the fook he was stood up in front and spoke, with a lisp, a fooking lisp vicar "and sho we shend mishes bashew to......." Fook me I pissed my panties..... Not only did he have a lisp he also had my sisters name wrong........ Which he kept repeating over and over again.......
May be we were at the wrong fooking do......
She had a good send off.
It needs work but as I said it's a rough cut...... (It'll probably stay like this for, well ever !!!!)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Rx-4CiBmIPY" loop="true" >
The day of the funeral, what a scorcher.
It was a bit of a giggle to be honest. I don't mean that it was a jolly day out for all the family it wasn't like going to the circus or anything, can't recommend it as a must do on a weekend type thing, but it wasn't bad.
It was nice to dress up for a change, traditional attire black tie suit and fuck me the thing still fits, bargain, would have been so upset if I had to buy a fat bastard suit.
Spent the day looking for a mule !!!! I kid you not a frigging mule. The shoe not a half breed combo you understand. The missus wanted a pair of shoes from the attic, so up I go. The description I had was vague to say the least. A black shoe with a thing across the front it has a heel. Woman know the difference between shoes they know a flip flop from a sandal, they know a stiletto from a high heel, they know these things, fook knows how they know they just do. I on the other hand haven't a scooby doo. So there I am, in a hot attic on a hot day in the near fooking dark hunting a mule - Elmer fucking Fudd I shit you not, a hunting mules we a go. "Is it this one" - I yell four times before she hears me, sweat is dripping in places, sweat shouldn't be. "No, that's a sandal", "this one" - "nooooo" after several attempts she's getting the hump I'm getting the foooking hump. In our attic there are bags and bags of crap, all back bags all tied all full of shite, "this one....." "no, oh for gods sakes a foooking mule has a black thing on the front opened..." fuck me she's off on one, I block her noise out, hmmm a book I haven't read for a while, I sit down on a bag of crap and thumb through it, sitting in the dimly lit space of the roof reading about north American Indians - red skins - native Americans whatever they call themselves these days, I thought this would be nice I could live up here. She's still babbling on about mules the kids are screaming, so yes I'm going to live in the attic. Might be cold in the winter and at night and hot in the summer, might be a bit smelly, but, yes livable. I can make a little hatch in the girls room and in the evening pop my head out and bid them goodnight another one in the loo to do my business, I'll have to be a good shot but it is a workable idea. I'll have to change the 5 watt lamp in there but hay not too bad. I'll have my own little Basher pad.
Back to reality how long could I sit in the semi darkness reading old books and living of spiders, not long I bet. So back to the mule hunting but by now we both knew it was a futile attempt, the sparkle had gone the fizz had popped, it was as flat as a witches tit. "Isss this the one.....", "no, that's a lamp !!!!!" "fuck it go bare foooking foooted" I scream - that's it now world war foooking 3, 4 and fooking 5 is going to happen....
Sitting in the dark awaiting the volley of abuse..... Still waiting.....Silence...... I'm getting scared now...... "OK" came the reply ....... And that was it, shit now what is she going to slap me when I descend. No bet she kicks the steps away as I'm teetering on the top. I carefully make my way to the hatch. I peer down into the light. Nothing. I retreat to my hiding place. What now. If I find the shoes all will be well. I look around the gloom bags and bags of crap. Who am I kidding.... Sod it bite the bullet. I peer out. Nobody is about. It's quiet too quiet. All I need now is a fooking tumble weed and a church bell.
I step onto the steps, then quickly off. Looking down, nothing. Step out again then another. Still same gravity must be turned off. Finally hitting terra firma. I peer around the doorway into our bedroom........
"I've got you a shirt. I'll iron it in a minuet. The kids are already......." Fook me who's this woman in front of me. Bet she's got a knife or a bat or a bat with a knife attached under the pillow.... Nothing I've cracked it - I'm immune - I'm a god - all these years and all I had to do was wait until the old dear had popped her clogs and bingo bango immunity.
We, well Allyson asked her mate to drop us over the old fellas house. She has a 7 seater and to be honest waiting for taxis just don't need it, especially today. What a foooking disaster, she, Pauline, arrived 45 minutes early - with her kid, like it was a fooking day out for them, then all she done was moan. Bad back, knees hurting bitching about her other children - she's one of those people if your cat was on fire her house would/was/has been in a, I don't know - a volcano - whatever you have she's either had better or is going to have better soon. She's about 50 with shoulder length mousy brown hair which always looks greasy she has the reddest face - ever, she's as skinny as a Peter Stringfellows thong and just about as appealing and she looks smelly - she's not, but by fuck she looks it. But she's Allys mate so bite my tongue , hard. Oh and she has this annoying habit of saying "and how's Bishop?" in a condinsending way, (every time I have seen her after the funeral she asks about my dad, she's never met him - the woman irks me gggrrrrrr)
We piled into this 7 seater. The boot has less room than our bluemobile, we had to squash the double buggy in, Pauline stood there with a face like a slapped ass, telling us that Jess isn't strapped in and how I've got to get into the back of the car. Bite harder....
I'm stuck in the fooking back with Keria, it's got about as much room as a fat lads lunch box. My knees are up by my chin, or should that be my chins are down by my knees I can't move a fooking muscle - Paulines yelling put your seat belt on put your seat belt on - FUCK OFF. I'm, going to bite my tongue in half.... I'm suited and booted crammed in a car which is fooooking boiling, I'm sweating like Elvis. I can't move my legs. Limited movement full stop. And she's giving me shite. Bite harder......
I try to look at the time but there's no room - even my eye balls are cramped - 13:18. Ok so we're going to be a little late, she pulls off OK, she drives to her house gets out and goes inside - Rose her little pale faced fat little fucker decides to undo her seatbelt and start to get out of the car. Allyson decides to walk to the end of the road and get some stuff for the kids and a packet of smokes for me (but she doesn't tell me this until later, a surprise she says) I sat in a black suit and tie surrounded by children, who are squabbling. In a foooking hot car, the two adults have both just baled out and left me with 4 children one of which gives me the creeps (Rose by the way) I'm sat there thinking what the fuck is going on....
Pauline returns to the car and I inform her Allyson has just walked to the shop. Instead of driving toward the shop we just sit there and wait. I'm getting a bit miffed now I explain as we have to drive past the shop should we go and pick Ally up outside - off we go pulling behind a lorry and about 5 cars. Ally can't see us. I have to tell Pauline to get out of the car and get her. Off we go again..... Tounge's hanging off.
-----------------------
The funeral cars arrived and it was another semi strange experience. Nobody knew what to do which car to get into so we're all just stood around, looking like gormless twats in dark suits sweating. We final decided who goes where we load the double buggy - but no it won't fit in the boot. For a large car there's no fooking boot space, I suggest we slip it in with the old dear - not that she'll mind but we decide to put it in passenger seat of the other car. When I go I'm going to have a coffin strapped to a Robin Reliants roof rack, fuck all this shite.
At the crematorium the cars pull around to the front of the (what is it it's not a church?) building. And do you know what I think I reconside about 3 people. We went in after the coffin. Took our seats a few people patted me on the back not in a congratulations way but one of condonances. The vicar, priest whoever the fook he was stood up in front and spoke, with a lisp, a fooking lisp vicar "and sho we shend mishes bashew to......." Fook me I pissed my panties..... Not only did he have a lisp he also had my sisters name wrong........ Which he kept repeating over and over again.......
May be we were at the wrong fooking do......
She had a good send off.
It needs work but as I said it's a rough cut...... (It'll probably stay like this for, well ever !!!!)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Rx-4CiBmIPY" loop="true" >
posted by Bishop bashing at 7:39 AM
1 Comments:
Phew .. I'm alright now .. topped up on basher humour .. thanks mate .. for a rough cut it ain't too bad (I know because I am Giles Brandreth !) .. anyway .. hope I don't have to wait so long for the next installment (I also hope no-one has to die either !)
Keep your chin(s) up Bishop (lol)
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