Baby P

Hello dearies! It's me again!

I've been what they call "otherwise engaged" for the last few months.

I've been travelling! I went to Frinton-on-Sea, just to see if the residents there were the fucking bunch of Daily Mail reading bigots I suspected they were, and it turns out they are! I had a lovely time and made some new friends over Littlejohn. He says what the people are too frightened to say. That the gays are taking over, and the immigrants are taking over too, but not as much as the gays. No... more than the gays. I think. And there's an asylum. Which we live in. And the Muslims are going to ban Christmas, like they have every year since he started saying it every year. I am that glad that he lives in Florida. It gives him an objectivity that the rest of us lack. And it's all true cos I see them. There's that L-S-B-N lady across the street, she gets her shopping at Waitrose! Waitrose! £1.50 for a loaf of bread! Whole Grain. Eeeee if that's not the pink pound I don't know what is. And she's lording it over everyone in the street with her green bags and then pretends she's not by having that man friend stay over. And don't tell me they aren't acting the normal couple in the bedroom too, because I watched them. That's what you're up against with these l-s-b-n-s.

Then there's my wee corner shop, used to be run by a lovely man called Jimmy. Eee when I were a girl he used to give me extra sweets if I sat on his lap. And give him a special kiss. Now it's a man called Mr Kohli, and he never lets me sit on knee. And this is progress.

I noticed as well a gay couple who moved in two doors down. They look the picture of health, laughing, putting plants in the garden and all that. But it's all an act. I said to Ada, mark my words Ada, one of them is bound to be riddled with the Aids and the other is probably god knows. All I know is that it is in all liklihood like throwing a sausage down Oxford Street. In London. Where this blog is based. So there. So I won't be going to their housewarming party. HOUSEWARMING party. That's what this street is coming to. They even said they'd like to have a community day in our street, with stalls and games for their kids and I thought that's your game! You're after the kids like all gays are. Eeeee it makes my blood boil. At least Jimmy in the shop give you sweets, I wonder what these two will? Cancer probably.

So listen dears, that's a weight of me chest for this week. Hopefully I won't wait too long till I get on the computer again. Eeee I meant to talk about Baby P...

Madeleine McCann

Eee dears I've been meaning to type all about Maddy for ages now, and I never seem to get round to it. It's funny isn't it they way time flies? Talking of which, my Cecil's been done again. The police arrested him down at the loos as he was apparently (I have to say apparently because there's a court case and I am not allowed to influence the outcome, I mean to say! In this day and age a wife can't type about her husbands alleged activities, I say alleged, because there's a court case and I am not allowed to influence the outcome. I mean to say! You might be in the jury and you might read this and think well she's a nice lady and then that's it. I've influenced the outcome.) So he was allegedly, apparently, maybe parading around the gents with his willy out, showing it to all and sundry. And I mean the toilets down by the bus stop, the ones that everyone thinks is closed, but they're not. And I say apparently, but if I know my Cecil there's no apparently about it. He's a devil for it cos he comes back and tells me about it. Nothing ever happens now that his inner behind has collapsed, but he has fun trying. And that's all it was if you ask me, a bit of fun. He keeps on muttering about the big black men in the jail and wondering how he gets into their ward or whatever its called in jail.

So Cecil keeps me busy, especially as I have to keep everyone on the street up to date with his activities, ever since I managed to get that plastic tag off his leg. I mean how it got there in the first place is a mystery, Cecil says he has no idea it was like the swans so I just got it off him and next thing I know he's down the toilets exposing himself. Allegedly. He's a good man is my Cecil, he is. He's forever trying to pleasure me in that way and what with his Parkinson's he does a first rate job. And the forgetfulness gives him staying power if you know what I mean. Mind you I tell him it must be like scraping your hand over sandpaper down there, but he says anything for you my darling, and anway love it's more like being licked with a cats tongue, and you have to get your thrills when you can at our age so we're both happy.

Now her across the road, the L-E-S-B-I-A-N, well, what a to do. It turns out she's not a L-E-S-B-I-A-N at all, she just has learning difficulties. I'm not allowed to go near her now on account of a complaint they made to social services, but I don't think that's fair. Can you tell me how to tell the difference becuase I'm buggered if I know. But she's not a L-B-N-E so that's a relief all round.

And my next door neighbour, Brigitte, the Irish one. She's dead, but someone who looks just like her and even sounds like her has moved in instead. And calls herself Brigitte as well! What a cheek! I said to her Fuck Off! (and that's swearing) Where's Brigitte gone? The real Brigitte? And she just laughed and said 'Oh Ethel what will we do with you?' and that sounds like a threat if you ask me so I'll be watching her.

Now I need to go soon because my internet is on a meter or something, but what I will say about Madeleine McCann is this...

Northern Rock

Eeee readers, it's only me.

I thought I'd just pop in to say hello to you all. Apparently, I've got a fan club.

They have a website (I can't find it) with all pictures of me. My Cecil says it shows me being all touched up. He says that's how the make photographs look neater on the wesbites which is nice.

So, Ada from across the street, not the L-E-S-B-I-A-N one, she's moved. Oh my. She's moved next door to me. This is a strange street sometimes. When people move house they stay in the same street. They never move away. Still, it gives me a frame of reference for the narrative and means that you won't get any nasty surprises, so anyway, Ada has been queuing up outside the Northern Rock for several weeks now. She saw the people outside and thought they was doing that carpetbagging thing and thought she'd get some money. Or a car. Or a pet. Or a carp. Or a carpet. Or a bag. Or a gin. Or gingseng. No one has the heart to tell her that it's a failing bank who were forced to compete viciously in the financial markets after they were forced from a mutual by people who wanted a couple of hundred quid, I don't think she'd understand me anyway. And anyway, she's enjoying the spirit of the Blitz all over again, and the camaraderie that comes from a group of people fearful of losing everything they've ever saved.

I'm laughing though, I don't have any savings anyway.

Diana

Eeee readers. I was watching the telly on Friday. It were a service for Diana. The Princess of Hearts. Or was it whales? I can't remember. It were depressing, I don't mind telling you that. Put me in mind of a funeral and all death. You'd think they'd be a merry bunch the royals, what with them palaces and cars and the nice food, but no, miserable lot they looked. And not a landmine in sight, and she works for the landmines! A cheek. She wasn't even there, I expect she was kissing Aids men. Or curing the lepers. One day she fed 5000 people with five fishes and two loaves of bread. Or were it two fishes and five loaves. Or was it five people with 5000 loaves of bread. It were one of them anyway. And Ciabattas too, none of your own brand stuff. Mind you, the fish was only from a tin, so its not that impressive.

So, after Diana kissed the Aids men (and I'm talking proper aids, not this blood transfusion stuff, which is just an excuse to call in sick if you ask me), my Cecil tells me shes gone to Heaven. Yes. The gay club. Well I'll not call it a gay club, I'll call it what it is. The pit of Satan. Sodom and Gomorrah on the Embankment. Gay would indicate happiness, and I'm buggered if Heaven brings you happiness. How could it? I'll ask Ada's Shane, she says he's a h-o-m-o- er, x - x- a - l- l. Now he says he's not, but he would, he wants to hide it. Mind you, he's very good to her, he is. He makes her tea and brings her her library books. How many grandsons would do that? What a waste. He's got himself a girlfriend too. Well, Ada thinks its a cover story, and I do too. You should see him. I've never met him meself, but Ada knows what she's talking about, on account of her Josephs fondness for the spit roast. And I'm not going to shock you, but it doesn't involve food. Well, not in the conventional sense. Just skewers. Fleshy skewers. Self basting fleshy skewers. So that's that. No great grandchildren for Ada. I won that. My Dezza, he's eleven, his youngest is one year old. He doesn't have a name for it yet, but it makes me a great grandmother. I won that one, Ada, you dried up old bitch!
Oh you should hear us. It's just our way of joking. But she is a bitch.

So Diana. She's lovely she is. Everyday in the paper I read about her good deeds for the needy. Maybe she'll come visit me. We can talk about my Cecil losing his legs in the war. The last time I saw him were on Platform 14 at Waterloo Station. I remember that day like it were last week. Mainly because it were last week but at my age you get confused. He went to Vauxhall for some reason, and I havn't seen him since. Apart from this morning to give him a cup of tea. And last night when we were listening to the Archers. If you're reading this Cecil, come home. And get a pint of milk on the way. You know the type I mean.

So anyway, Madeleine McCann...

August

Eeee well that's August will and truly over, and what a month it's been.

I went to the internet shop to find out how to get pornography on me computer tv, not for me you understand, for Cecil. Well he still gets urges and I'm always that busy scrubbing the steps and gossiping about them down the street. They've moved in. Got themselves to the top of the council list. Oh yes. The dirty beggars. And this isn't even a council street so you can guess whose paying for it. HE apparently is the boss of British Rail or is it National Express. I can't remember but there's replacement bus services involved, and comes from S-C-O-T-L-A-N-D. Now you know me, I like the Scotch, I think as a race they're a nice diversion, something to take your mind off the house prices. But I'll be honest, I'm not that comfortable with them in me street. They breed like rabbits. They do. And before you know it this street will be overrun with them, asking after each other, having ceilidhs and battering everything in sight. Mind you, Cecil knows all about that so maybe it'll not seem so strange.

So pornography on a computer tv. It's not possible for a shop to give me the details. The man in the shop was adamant. His career hit the skids shortly after Prince Charming came out. Now that was a man. Eeeee you wouldn't mind someone like that having a go at you. If Cecil looked like that when he was learning me I'd not have minded the marks so much. But anyway, he wouldn't give me the details. Told me to go Google. The dirty beggar. The dirty filthy lech. Eee it makes me feel young again. That biker who lived down the street, now he used to know how to treat a lady. I always go weak at the knees when I see a can of WD40. I have a sly chuckle when I read the instructions on it, cos we used it for another reason. As lubrication so that he could penetrate me. Anally. And his mates would have seconds. Eeee they were the days.

So then I ask my grandson Dezza. He's only eleven, and told me what websites to go to. Eeee they were shocking and make no mistake. Perfect for Cecil. So now he pleases himself if you know what I mean. Eee saucy, eh?

Letter to Mary

Hello Dearie!

It's me, Ethel. I've got meself one of them interwebs. Just a small one, it sits in the corner of the front room and hides the smell of the urine.

My Cecil, bless him, can't hold anything in now, but the smell reminds me of the chemical factory I used to work in when I were a girl. Not like work these days, now that was work. Up at the crack of dawn and in your barefeet till the tramstop, and heaven help you if you forgot your Oystercard. Aye they were the days. And no lunch break, and by the time you did get one the Boots Meal Deal had sold out. These young ones today don't know their born, do they? When I was a girl you had your baby on the way to the plant, so it could be in the work queue too. None of this "maternity leave" like what my Vera and your Ethel got, Dot.

How is your Ethel? Is she still shacked up with that B-L-A-C-K man? Now you know me, I am not a racialist, and they make very good doctors. Always white teeth and clean fingernails, but it's the kids I feel sorry for, they won't know if they're here or there. Anyway Doris, I can't sit on this internet all night, oh no. I've got bingo in an hour. There's a lovely man who does the bingo. He's called Christian but he says "Call me Christ" and he has a lovely manner. Slicked back hair and teeth as white as the ace of spades only white, and he always said "Eeee Vera, if I was blind, 100 years old and senile, you and me would be an item!". Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee an item! Did you hear that! Oooooooooo he makes me laugh. He gets me to hand out these leaflets at the bingo, all about being born again and saved and the fiery pits of damnation. It takes me most of the morning what with me crutches but the things you do for love. Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee listen to me harking on about love! If my Cecil were alive he'd have me beaten black and blue! But good black.

I went down to the cornershop the other morning, to get me what-fors, and you'll never guess who was there. Go on guess. You'll never guess. It was... oh, who was it. I see him on the buses. Always whistles and looks up the skirts of lasses going up the stairs. Mae's dad. My Mae. Didn't you know my Cecil isn't the dad of my Mae? Eeeee all these years and the truth comes out. It were that dirty bus conductor. I was on the bus on me own and he said he'd tell the school master that I been up the fields. So I let him. You had to in them days. So I see him the other day, and he's asking about Mae and that, oooh he is a good dad to her. Mind you, he always threatens to tell my Cecil, so him and me go to the back of bus... it's just a bit of fun, in't it? I just wish I could remember the bus number he works on and I'd maybe get on another, but at my age you can't spend time remembering bus numbers can you? 3 then 159 that 133 the other. My head spins just thinking about it.

Her next dooors, her next doors, you know who I mean. Not that side, the other side. Blue door, red curtains. She's gone on h-o-l-i-d-a-y, with her from across the road. No kids. Double room. That's what I hear the woman upstairs telling her across the street. She has come out as a lesbian. That's what they say. SHE HAS COME OUT AS A LESBIAN. It's the husband I feel sorry for. He's been a rock to her all his days. Now he was a good man, he only hit 'er when 'e was drunk, and he always apologised afterwards. Always said he'd mend his ways. Our men never said that, did they? So how is your Stanley? I remember your wedding, oooh I do. My mam said 'Look at that scarlet whore. Getting married in white and with two kids in the back seat'. I always remember them words cos that was before she threw that tin of red paint over you. She was that embarrassed when she found out that was your wee sisters. I told her you'd kept yourself for your Stanley, and I think the shame of it killed her. She was never one to mince her words was my mam, but when she got it wrong that time, I think she just had enough. It's a pity she was never around that day it all came out that they was yours after all. That was a day, remember? I remember your clothes all out on the street, and the screaming and the social services and your Stanley pissing up against our front door. We have a laugh about it now, we do. Do you ever see them kids?

Anyway Mary I really have to go! Really! I can't sit on this intersite all night. Bingo is in an hour and I haven't even moved me bowels yet. Ooooh I wish you'd stopped me eating them eggs. I'm paying for it now. I should have known, I'm a slave to me bowels. I went to Dr. Krisnaholichurti, and he told me that he'd never known someone to move so little. He said I should get an award! Eeeeee he is funny. And he smells of Imperial Leather. Not the soap.

Television

EEEE READERS. I'M STILL HERE. MY FRED HAS MOVED OUT, HE'S FOUND GOD SO HAS GONE OFF TO A RETREAT. I'M REALLY PLEASED FOR HIM, AS A MOTHER YOU WORRY ABOUT YOUR SON AND IT SEEMS HE'S REALLY GOT A FRESH OUTLOOK ON LIFE NOW. I'M NOT SURE I TOTALLY AGREE WITH THE ACTUAL RELIGION SIDE OF IT, BUT TO BE HONEST, IT'S GOT HIM OUT OF A RUT SO FOR THAT I AM GLAD. I CAN'T GET THESE CAPITAL LETTERS OFF AND ME NEPHEW DAZZA IS BACK AT SCHOOL AGAIN SO I'LL JUST HAVE TO KEEP TYPING IN CAPITALS. MIND YOU I CAN WORK THE SPELLING SO IT TELLS ME IF I'VE TYPED SOMETHING WRONG. WELL I THINK IT DOES I CAN NEVER BE SURE AND I DON'T TRUST MYSELF WITH THESE COMPUTERS.

SO I HAVE BEEN WATCHING A LOT OF TELEVISION RECENTLY, MAINLY BECAUSE THE WEATHER HAS BEEN SO BAD RECENTLY. WHEN YOU GET TO MY AGE YOU DON'T WANT TO RISK GETTING SOAKED. EEE THAT REMINDS ME, I'VE GOT ONE OF THEM MICROWAVE OVENS NOW. IT MAKES A CUP OF COFFEE IN TWO MINUTES. NOT THAT I DRINK COFFEE. I DON'T LIKE IT. I DRINK TEA. BUT YOU CAN'T PUT TEA BAGS IN THE MICROWAVE SO I MAKE DO WITH THE KETTLE. THE KETTLE WAS ALL LIMESCALED UP LAST WEEK SO CECIL DESCALED IT. LOOKS BRAND NEW. HE GOT THE LIMESCALE REMOVER FROM THE HARDWARE SHOP AND GOT TO TALKING TO THE MAN BEHIND THE COUNTER. APPARENTLY LIMESCALE ONLY HAPPENS IN HARD WATER AREAS SO HE RECOMMENDED A WATER FILTER, WHICH I THOUGHT WAS VERY NICE. VERY NICE. CECIL THEN GOT ME A LOVELY STRAWBERRY CREAM SCONE FROM THE BAKERY, OOOO IT WERE LOVELY IT REALLY WERE.

SO CECIL CAME BACK AND HE TOLD ME TO PUT MY FEET UP, AND HE MADE ME A LOVELY DINNER. IT WERE ROAST BEEF, ROAST POTATOES AND PEAS. LOVELY. LITTLE THINGS LIKE THAT MAKE LIFE SPECIAL, AND CECIL IS VERY SPECIAL TO ME. HE'S ALWAYS BEEN THERE FOR ME. I..M SORRY, I'M GETTING ALL EMOTIONAL. HE'S A GOOD MAN. I'VE ALSO MADE FRIENDS AGAIN WITH MY DAUGHTER. I THOUGHT TO MYSELF, LIFE IS TOO SHORT FOR PETTY GRUDGES. SO SHE COMES ROUND THREE TIMES A WEEK AND WE GO TO THE SHOPS. WHEN I THINK OF ALL THE MONTHS I WASTED WITH MY STUBBORNESS, IT MAKES ME SAD, IT DOES. BUT ME DAUGHTER SAID 'MUM, IT'S NOW THAT MATTERS'. SO THAT'S WHAT WE DO - WE MAKE THE MOST OF NOW. AND I HAVE TO SAY, IT'S GIVEN ME A NEW LEASE OF LIFE.

I WENT TO SEE THE DOCTOR THIS WEEK, HE'S GIVEN ME A CLEAN BILL OF HEALTH, WHICH AT MY AGE, IS GOOD NEWS INDEED. I TAKE ME VITAMINS EVERY DAY, AND EAT AN APPLE, A BANANA AND A QUARTER OF AN ORANGE. YOU CAN NEVER HAVE TOO MUCH FRUIT, THAT'S WHAT I SAY.

FUCKING BITCH WHORE CUNT BITCH. THAT'S WHAT YOUR WAITING FOR ISN'T IT?