*May contain strong language and material that some people may find offensive!*
Date: Friday December 13th 2019
Location: Thurcroft, Rotherham
Friday the 13th eh? Black Friday. The day when its best to stay tucked up in bed and not even think of setting foot out of doors, Luck? What is it anyway? If you get hit by a car and suffer a broken hip is that bad luck? Or is it good luck because had you been hit when the car was going at a greater speed or had ran into you from a slightly different angle you might have been killed outright or at best suffer injuries more serious than a broken leg. Me? I’ve had more of my fair share of bad luck I can tell you. So much so that maybe the fates will give me the day off!
“Go on - get out there and enjoy yourself!”
”You sure!?”
”Of course, we always keep our promises”
”Ive had a bit of a bad run recently”
”Sure, sure, we understand - you've had a bad run, we realise that. Go on off with you, you've nothing to fear”
I walk outside my front door and trip over Nigel as he comes in and I go out. Is it a coincidence that Nigel is a black cat?
Despite the fear of venturing out on the dreaded Friday the 13th the day is largely uneventful (probably because I was hiding under my duvet clutching a bottle of holy water and surrounded by a circle of sea salt ). I completed the blog posting for Wednesday 4th December, the day of the SPAW Lincoln Christmas dinner, which is not as easy as some might imagine. I have very little experience as a writer but I’m betting that writing humour is one of the most difficult things to do. Of course it is work - of the cerebral sort that is - I don't want to imply that loafing on my bed typing on a mobile is equal to heaving coal, dragging rocks out of a quarry or humping crates around a warehouse.
Received a message yesterday from Stephanie saying how much she hates asking others for help although I chastised her (kinky!!) saying theres no shame in asking others for help I didn't mention that I come from a family - on my mothers side - who really loathe asking others for help in fact I often described my mother as being pathologically independent - she wouldn't ask anyone for anything
One day I arrived at her home only to discover that she appeared to have fallen down the stairs - which was a bit odd as she lived in a bungalow. I ran to her and said “whats happened why didnt you call for help!?” she told me ”Oh I’m OK love I can see the telly from here and I’m sure I can work out how to replace a hip joint” “Besides I knew you were coming today anyway” “What!? But mother we arranged that three weeks ago!”
I feel a poem coming on
Pathological Independence
What is it with elderly people?
And their refusal to ask others for help?
No one else seems to have problems
And when in need they will shout, scream or yelp!
My mother was too independant by far
She would never ask for a thing
And would put out a blazing house by herself
Rather than give the fire brigade a ring
Nothing was above or beyond her
There was nothing that she couldn't do
She could turn her hand to anything
So she could say I’ve done it myself so stuff you.
One day someone was injured close by
Who appeared to have broken a bone
But mother said “Its OK luv I’ll sort it”
As she repaired the break with a stone
On another occasion she tripped over a shoe
It left her face black and blue
“Oh its no bother“ she said as she retired to her bed
Saying, “I can sort it with a bandage and glue“
Now there soon came a day things got awkward
When someone broke into her house for to rob But mother, bless her, was not phased at all
As she nutted him right in his gob
“Take that!” she cried you damned scoundrel
“Let that be a lesson to you“
“If you ever try to steal from me again”
“You'll get what’s coming to you”
But it wasn't just the bold and dramatic
It was the little things as well
From asking for lifts to the grocers
To spilt things and drains that might smell
She would do every thing by herself
Whether she was poor or of wealth
And no matter the state of her household
Or level of fitness or health
But independence is not always healthy
We always need others you see
And if you create that impression
Others will put on you or just leave you be
Bit of good luck though! Bronwyn invited me for tea. Admittedly the traveling was a bit of a pain - a full ten yards from the moho to the front door - but the meal was absolutely wunderbar!! Chicken tikka with pilau rice, garlic bread (garlic bread!?) followed by coffee and creamy miniature cakes. I’ll come again if I may thank you!
Moving on ....
This is nothing to do with the blog other than it was inspired after a day of seeing branches of McDonalds everywhere!
McDonalds is healthy claims new report!
A report published today has knocked the world of Healthy Eating & Fitness right on its ass. McDonalds, usually regarded as purveyors of junk food and high calorie heart attack inducing crap, has made a startling claim to the contrary the 'Daily Flatulence’' can reveal today. The report published by The McDonalds Corporation and headed by Sir Ronald McDonald with Peter McDonald, Paul McDonald, Mary McDonald, Jane Rogers (Formerly McDonald), Bronson Brooke's Jnr (A close relative of the McDonalds) and Arthur Cludgie former winner of the world burger eating championships, firm supporter of the McDonalds and sponsor of several promotional films (about McDonalds) has made the startling claim that McDonalds food ranks among the healthiest in the world.
When asked how they arrived at this claim given that their menu consists of; high calorie foods such as; burgers, fries, eggs, milkshakes etc, their food is considered by most food experts as being 'dangerously unhealthy' and the poor quality of their product was exemplified in the film 'Supersize Me' by Morgan Spurlock as 'making him ill and was 'turning his liver into pate' a spokesman for McDonalds made the following statement;
"The McDonalds franchise has been the subject of much criticism over the years", stated Mary McDonald, "and it is time that we presented an alternative viewpoint". "What people don't know is that the franchise was originally started by Ronald McDonald Snr (Known to the family as Old McDonald) who had a large farm in Kansas" (Our reporter interjected at this point and said "So just to clarify you're saying that Old McDonald had a farm? "Yes that's true" she said "All the food sold by McDonalds in those early days came from this source and consisted of; cows, pigs, ducks, sheep and chickens". "Didn't you have any horses?" asked our intrepid reporter, at which point Mary gave a high pitched laugh of the sort reserved for accidentally touching someones breast at a garden party and said "neigh!"
The farm was a wonderful place" she said as she told us how she was always up with the cock first thing in the morning listening to the sounds of the animals. "Oh yes" she said "you could hear a moo moo here and an oink oink there. It was quite breathtaking" (Mary became somewhat carried away in her reminisces at this point and began imitating the various sounds of all the animals on the farm; "neigh neigh here, baa baa there, here a moo there a moo" etc).
Another thing our critics say is that virtually everything we sell is fattening. This is simply not true. Just off the main track leading to the farm lived a little boy. Now this little boy who lived down the lane was paid by Old McDonald to look after a vegetable patch covering an area of a whopping 20 square feet she claimed proudly! Every year we guaranteed that we could yield approx 4 lettuces, 7 onions, 8 ounces of radishes and 1 whole pound of tomatoes! As the business expanded across America this patch enabled us to provide salad for 276 outlets. So you see we did produce a veritable cor by nucopia of non-fattening food.
When our reporter suggested that all this seemed suspiciously like a popular children's nursery rhyme Mary replied "ooh is that the time? I must dash for I have a little lamb you know, its fleece is white as snow, and everywhere that little lamb goes, I am sure to go or something I can never remember how these nursery rhymes go" "Oh shit!" She said as she ran away.
Comments