Getting Old!!

Some things make me realise I'm getting old like; when the days seem to fly by and I've done 'nothing'! How my memory is totally crap apart from song lyrics from 1979 to 1985! My bladder lets me down when I sneeze or laugh a lot! I grow and shed hair at a rate of knots; when I got out of the bath today I thought one of the cats was being sucked down the plug-hole! My memory is totally crap apart from song lyrics from 1979 to 1985! I can't read the tv guide on the television screen without putting on my glasses or getting closer! I make involuntary noises when I bend down and when I get back up! I want to write to Jamie Oliver for using metal spoons in a non-stick pan (he's going to ruin them!).I'm sure there are a hundred more but my memory is totally crap apart from song lyrics from 1979 to 1985!

I can cope with all of these things, I think, but something nearly pushed me over the edge today when I dropped #3 son of at school. The lollipop lady was younger than me, younger by a lot! And, grrrrr, fucking grrrr; she made me wait while she stopped the traffic for me!

I wonder if I complain about her to the council I can get her the sack? Fuck, another 'getting old' sign!

PS. How come when I search for lollipop lady pictures I'm inundated with porn??

Nepotism

Nepotism is the showing of favoritism toward relatives, based upon that relationship, rather than on an objective evaluation of ability or suitability. For instance, offering employment to a relative, despite the fact that there are others who are better qualified and willing to perform the job, would be considered a form of nepotism.

This is not why I won two awards from DJ's blog it's because I'm GOOD!

I wanted to mention something that happened at work this week. One of the guy's was delivering to a new estate and had to knock the door of a new occupier. After a short while the letterbox flipped up and a pair of eyes peered out at him. "Can you go and get your Mum or Dad please?" he asked. Then the door opened for him to be greeted by a midget! OOOPS!

The picture? A MG Midget!!

Confused!!

A couple of weeks ago I made a momentous decision (for me anyway) to look for my Father. My Mother was an only child who died when I was 11 years old. Both her parents, my grandparents, are also dead. The man who I believed to be my Father (his name is on my birth certificate) is not my Father, this was kindly pointed out to me by my sister (he is her Father by the way) out of the blue one day 15 years or so ago! You keeping up?

Anyway I wrote to my Mothers cousin a couple of weeks ago to ask her what she knew and today got a reply. Now really I was expecting her to tell me who my Father was and I would then have to decide what I was going to do next. It seems it's not as simple as that! No-one knows who he was and, at the time, didn't think it prudent to ask. Well I can hardy point any fingers here can I seeing I waited 44 bloody years to ask!

I got a lovely letter back from her with some photographs, a little family history and a promise that she would keep digging. I knew my Mother had an Aunt in Canada and apparently she may know a little more so they are writing to her to see what they can find out.

Now what I really wanted to hear was my Father was a great guy who died around the time of my birth. This is why I never knew him and why he never bothered to find me. Then it occurred to me that this could all be a lot bigger than me finding the Father I never knew. What if he had other children then I could have brother/s, sister/s and my boys uncle/s, aunt/s! How would I cope with that? I didn't really think this through very well, I could have a huge extended family out there I never knew I had.

It could be you!!

What the F***!!

I found this picture and really am not sure what's going on! Need a few suggestions guys!!

And for those who are intersted I posted the second chapter of E-Male here today.

Next Door

We've been in this house nearly two years and get on fine with the neighbours though we don't like to talk about number 13! Anyway, the people next door are very nice. They are both young; he's tall and fit and she's short and blonde. The two of them live in a three bedroom house with a large conservatory with their two small dogs, but behind that facade do they hide a secret? This is what I think...................

At the bottom of the garden is a large brick built outbuilding. The building has double glazing, electrics, heating and one of those neon lights that goes 'buzzzzzzzz' when an insect flies into it. The dogs used to live in the house but when the owners were out at work they used to wreck the place so were moved into the outbuilding. This meant the cannabis production had to move indoors!

What makes me think this apart from the frequent wafts of Morocco's finest over the garden fence, the huge white tent thing which covers most of the garden and obscures the view of the police spotter plane, the constant burning of joss sticks and the monthly boiling of fish heads that seeps through our house to hide the smell of production? Nothing, but hey it might be true!

Bet you'd like to live next door to me wouldn't you?

Old Folks and Lime Green Carpet

Today, as part of my job and not for fun, I had to visit an old peoples home. One of those ones with tiny one bedroom flats and a warden. It wasn't one I'd visited before but when I got there I realised basically they are all the same.

They all have:

• A buzzer for the warden who is never on duty.



• A policy of not letting anyone in the building unless supervised by the warden who is ..............



• A system for numbering the apartments which makes no sense to anyone under 65.



• A trick door that leads you outside before you want to leave.



• An alarm system consisting of red strings and buttons which you can only push/pull in an extreme emergency as this contacts the warden who is..............



• Someone cooking cabbage, this must be part of the lease. When you sign up you are put on the cabbage boiling rota. Failure to comply will mean no fish supper in the common room and confiscation of your bingo crayon.

But this one was different from all the others I've ever seen. Different in a big way! Different because this one had a lime green carpet. A lime green carpet and burgundy coloured banisters! Why? Because they are old so it doesn't matter? Because Peter Stringfellow returned it for a softer shag so they had some spare? Because the decorator was colourblind and he thought it was blue and beige?

Whatever the reason when you are old never, ever buy lime green carpets and paint your walls burgundy it really doesn't go!!

Trip to the Chemist

#3 son is now at school fulltime and I do the school pick up duty. When he gets home he goes to his room and gets changed ( knocked 15 minutes of his previous best today it only took 30 minutes) then has a snack in front of the tv.

Today we had to walk to the chemist to pick up his prescription and I told him we'd go after his snack. How can anyone make a packet of skips last 25 minutes? He'd chosen his own clothes; a t-shirt, shorts, stripey socks, sandals and two pairs of pants "because the first pair were uncomfortable"!

We walked along the road holding hands. He was hanging on bent over and sort of skipping, he looked like Marty Feldman in Young Frankenstein only smaller and on acid. When we got to the top of the hill and he realised we weren't going the way he wanted he started to headbutt my arm. That's the arm with my wrist watch on!

We get to the chemist and he's all excitable, red and sweaty with an imprint of my watch on his forehead. He sits on the chair next to a large black man and stares at him, the stares interrupted by "when's my medicine ready?" in a loud bark. An old lady with a walking stick comes in and I ask him to move so she can sit down. He tries to turn me into a pillar of salt with a glare but she doesn't want to sit down, crisis averted until she turns her back. She turns round and he make a loud raspberry sound, "I did it at the radio!" he protests, no-one is convinced especially the old lady who doesn't look happy. He does it again, trying not to laugh I admonish him then he cocks his leg lets off a huge (really huge!) fart and laughs his head off. The old lady is shaking her head and I ask him "what do you say?". "Pardon" he says then does it again.

Now all the customers are saying "when's his medicine ready?". We get the parcel and head for the Co-op, god help them!!