Friday, May 1, 2009

Mixed messages

Hello readers. I’ll cut to the chase straight away, I’m not feeling very happy today.

Lots of things seem to have come together at the same time to make this the case. Mum’s got her voice back, which is great, but the first thing she used it for was to tell me about what a lovely time she’d had with Gill while she was up there.

Mum and Gill always got along really well but now I feel like it’s them against me. I mean, I know Gill’s mum’s dead, and that’s part of the reason why her and my Mum get along so well, but she is my Mum and I need her more than Gill does, really.

Don’t get me wrong, I feel bad for Gill about her mum. But jeez, readers, accidents happen, right? And everyone knows that, statistically speaking, hang gliding is one of the most dangerous pastimes there is. And if you’re going to go hang gliding – and I’ve never been – but if you’re going to go, you want to avoid pylons, right? It’s not bloody rocket science.

But Mum said they went out for a night together and they ended up in bloody nightclub. My Mum, in a nightclub! She’s my Mum, she’s not some pikey old granny, the kind that Wayne Rooney has a thing for. Is it just me, or does anyone one else think that Wayne Rooney has the look of a simpleton about him? Like he’s always got his tongue out and he looks like he dribbles a lot. Next door to my gran there was a couple who had a simpleton boy and he lived with them until he was into his fifties. He loved listening to music on his headphones, and he loved the snooker.

Anyway, Mum told me that all the blokes in the club were trying it on with Gill and that they both had a really good time. Also, my Mum met a ‘gentleman’ earlier in the evening, while they were having dinner, called Roger, who offered to drive her out into the country for lunch one day next week. And she’s going to go!!!

Now I love my Mum, but if there’s one thing that worries me about her it’s that she’s a bit of an easy touch. It’s like people take advantage of her and I just can’t abide that. I’m sure ‘Roger’ came across nice as pie, I can well imagine it. But I bet he’s just after the money; shit I hope she didn’t tell him how much she’s got. She mustn’t tell people that. And the thing about Mum is that when she’s had a couple of sherries, well, she gets a bit suggestible.

That’s all. So I think I’m going to have to go up there and meet Roger for myself, because I don’t think he can be trusted. And then I was feeling funny about Gill getting all the attention that Mum was talking about. I have to say, she is looking great at the moment, the last time I saw her I did feel a few of the old stirrings that I used to get. She’s obviously been out and got a load of new clothese and stuff. Because when I saw her, she said: “Jesus, Barry, you’re not still wearing that bloody Ned’s Atomic Dustbin T-shirt are you?”

Also, I went on a date, you know I’m doing that online dating thing, right? Well I went on a date and, not to put too fine a point on it, it was an absolute bloody disaster. I had a bit of stubble on the go, because I think the ladies like that, and I did some press ups before I went out, although not many. And I put my black trousers on, although I think they’ve shrunk a bit in the wash.

Anyway we arranged to meet at a pub I know in town, which is great and it’s a Sam Smiths pub, which means you can get a pint for not much more than two quid. Gill and I used to meet there. So when this girl – Susie – turned up I thought, “easy Bazza old son, she’s a bit of a cracker”. But she didn’t like the pub. Wtf? She wanted to go for cocktails, so we went to this place and the doorman looked me up and down and glared at me but chatted to Susie. Apparently she’d been here before. She told me what she wanted and it was TEN QUID! For ONE DRINK!

I only had £40 with me, figuring that we probably wouldn’t have more than ten drinks each in the pub on a first date but now a quarter of it was done for. So I had a water. Then she spent 15 minutes chatting to the doorman, while I sat at the bar with my water. She came back and asked for another drink, which I got, and then she said she didn’t think we had much in common, so let’s just chalk it up to experience. So I asked her for the money to cover the drinks and she just laughed at me. So I asked her again, and then the doorman came over and grabbed me and threw me out. And everyone in there was laughing.

It was an awful place, the kind of place that Gill and I would never go into when we were together, because we thought it was up its own arse. Which it was. I thought I’d call Gill for old times sake, but when she answered it sounded like she was at a party and she said she couldn’t talk. So I went back to the pub and got a drink, and, well, that’s about all I remember. Woke up at home with all my clothes on.

Checked my phone and I had a text message from Amber. It said: “Please stop texting me.”

So I looked at my sent messages and I’d sent her seven texts saying about how I thought we’d be great together, and I really like her and she’s hot and all this nonsense.

I’d also sent Gill 15 text messages, all saying the same thing: “Baby, what went wrong. Still think about you all the time.”

She hadn’t replied at all.

Shit, things are a bit messed up.


  1. Who does not like having a drink at the pub ? Women are really mysterious, and I think I still have LOADS to learn about them and how they can ruin your day sometimes.
    I understand your mum about trusting ppl, coz I'm a bit like that, but I've been deceived and now I try to be more careful when I meet new ppl.
    But that Susie girl needs a serious time out, at least, when you feel like your date isn't going so well, keep up appearances. that's the least you can do.
    I don't have boobs, as you can imagine, but i'd be glad to go to the pub with you for a buddies night out !!! And keep in mind that things are always looking up.

    My fave actress, Alyssa Milano, said that: "To all aspiring everyone: Do what you love. Never give up. Protect the integrity of what you're creating. And believe."

    And I keep thinking that each day.

  2. Cut the grass today. Now that sounds quite ordinary, I expect - but then, YOU probably have two working legs. I've only just got mobile again on the prosthetic limb they gave me to replace the one I lost in that unfortunate incident on the East Coast main line in '06. I don't blame British Rail - it was a stupid place to stop for a slash and I expect I would have heard the train if I wasn't so greedy and had replaced the batteries in my hearing aids when they started going dead the previous week. The PRICE of those batteries - it's criminal! I find I can squeeze a few more days out of them if I warm them up overnight on the hot water boiler. Anyway. There I was mowing the lawn when I had to make an awkward manoeuvre around the Leylandii that I planted to keep my perv neighbour from watching my wife knitting in the nude - hey, it's a free world, OK?! - it's her right if that's what floats her boat! Well, the mower hit a Tonka toy my disabled son had left in the long grass. We can only buy him Tonkas as he is really destructive when he has his funny turns and cheap toys rarely last him more than a day. He did have a plastic Dalek once that survived quite well until the wife's guide dog swallowed it and had to be put down. Right, so, mower meets Tonka - those toys really do what it says on the tin, they're as tough as hell - and mower comes off 2nd best. The plastic nut holding the cutting blade shears off and a 12 inch strip of mild steel explodes out of the mower at about a million miles an hour and embeds itself in my leg at shin height! OK, I have an artificial leg - but the blade is sticking out of the other one! I've never been good with blood - particularly my own - and I start to pass out. As I collapsed I recollect being grateful that my fall at least was going to be cushioned by the large patch of stinging nettles I was heading towards. You won't hear me complaining about the National Health Service - that ambulance was outside my house in under an hour. Not entirely their fault - took my wife ages to feel for me in the long grass (her replacement guide dog is still being trained). And I don't blame the ambulance men either for reversing over my daughter's wheelchair - it was a stupid place for her to park and, anyway, she was thrown clear by the impact and only has a few cuts and grazes. She'll just have to eat left-handed for a while! The great news is that the paramedics were able to mend the mower!! Now, what was that you were saying about having a crap day?

  3. Eezer Goode, Ebeezer Goode. You really were in the Shaman. Mr C. rockin da house big stylee. Word. Lovin the stream of mower mishap-based consciousness. Shame about your leg 'n all that. But you're getting on a bit and I doubt Notts Forest will be signing you on any time soon.

    Mess dude - they're maidens of the moon. That's all you need to know.