Creme Egg, Croesus, Crikey!!!!!

2008-08-31, 10:07 p.m.

Overheard outside Chigley shops

Woman, on mobile phone, clearly agitated (and getting ever more so): Tell me! Just tell me! Tell. Me. What. You. Did. Tell Me!!!..................You got a tattoo? Oh My Gï¿½ï¿½..of a Crï¿½me Egg Barcode?ï¿½ï¿½ï¿½.on your wrist!!.......................OH MY GODDDDDD!!!........I cant believe you did that!!....I cant fucking believe it!!!!.......WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU THINKING??????.....Err, *snigger* have you got a camera on your phone? Can you send me a picture?

Stepfordbro pitched up at ours on Saturday as heï¿½d bought himself a new Eyepod and wanted to load it with ~~a shitload of punk and Bananarama~~ a few tasteful tunes from my own extensive and eclectic song library. Heï¿½s going on holiday in a fortnight or so and wanted some tunes to listen to as he beetles about. So he says. When he brought the CDs back today, and in the course of wangling himself a dinner invitation (by hanging about until it was almost ready and then pretending to be surprised when I said ï¿½if youï¿½re staying to dinner you better get another plate outï¿½), he told me a bit more about his holiday.

Stepfordbro, as I have documented here before, is rich as Croesus. Mostly cos he is single (with a long term girlfriend who doesnï¿½t ï¿½live inï¿½) and has lived in the same little apartment since he was 25. Heï¿½s now 43. Lemme hear you say ï¿½almost paid off the mortgage!ï¿½ So heï¿½s planning to retire long before he turns 50 and is looking to move to the US when he finally hangs up his accountantï¿½s pencil. Heï¿½s been over several times house-hunting and is going back in September to view another half-dozen or so properties which he can ï¿½do up, rent, just go for holidays. Whatever reallyï¿½. He showed me some that heï¿½s thinking of buying in New Hampshire. Can you believe that this is someoneï¿½s idea of a ï¿½second homeï¿½?

For the money he will have to fork out for that gorgeous house which stands in nearly an acre of land, he could getï¿½.ummmmï¿½..a one bedroom flat in ChavVille. Hmm. No contest really, is there!

He has generously said I can go there for holidays.

*weep*

As payment for his dinner, (roast pork tenderloin with a honey and mustard crust, roast potatoes, vegetables and gravy followed by vanilla spongecake and chocolate custard!) he went out into the garden and tried to retrieve Jooj and Treacï¿½s giant Frisbee which has been stuck in the brambles in our garden for about four weeks.

Weï¿½ve all had a go at getting it back, with a wide selection of pointy poles, sticks etc but, to be honest, it was held fast. Stepfordbro is a Financial Controller for one of the countryï¿½s largest car retailers. Heï¿½s used to getting his own way and wasnï¿½t about to be beaten by brambles. Even those so thick youï¿½d kind of expect to find a Sleeping Beauty Castle to be in there somewhere.

With the hooky thing we use to open the vents in the conservatory he could reach through the prickles and get a fairly good jab at the Frisbeeï¿½ï¿½..resulting in it getting wedged even further in.

ï¿½Fuck itï¿½, he said, ï¿½Get me a ladderï¿½. I made some half-arsed protests about the ladder being too heavy to lean on the fence but he just looked at me like I was retarded and went off to get the ladder. I went to get the camera. If he was going to have a Youï¿½ve Been Framed moment, I was at least going to capture it. I also thought it might come in handy if he did actually, erm, DIE or something and I could show my mum and dad that it wasnï¿½t my fault.

Instead of leaning the ladder on the fence, though, he leaned it ON A BUSH, saying something in an authoritative voice about ï¿½load distributionï¿½ or something. I was laughing so hard I could hardly hold the camera as he wobbled his way to the top, still holding the hooky-stick-window-winder-thingy.

There was some f-ing and blinding and I ran round to the other side of the fence to the field (with a rake) to see it I could get closer. I couldnï¿½t. So I ran back into the garden to see that heï¿½d moved the ladder and was now RIGHT IN THE MIDDLE OF THE PRICKLY BUSHES!!! Naturally I was singing ï¿½I know you, I walked with you once uponnnn a dreeeeeeamï¿½ by now. And he was being VERY un-Prince Philip-like and telling me to fuck off.

And then. And THEN!!! OMG!!!!!!!!!!!! With a Rrrrrrrrrriiipppp and a tangle and a clattering of the ladder and a load more ï¿½Fuck! OW! Fuck!ï¿½ï¿½ï¿½ï¿½..it was out!

In the best tradition of game-fishing, I bring you Stepfordbro, wobbly ladder, hooky-stick thing aaaaaaaaand Rescued Giant Frisbeeeeeeeeeee.

If I could type a fanfare here, I would.

Jooj and Treac even tore themselves away from the telly to cheer at this point and Stepfordbro said ï¿½Yeh. Well. Take the bloody thing over the field next time, yeh?ï¿½ in the normal miserable grumpy voice he uses for everything.

Yay!

Later
S
x

L just found a piece of Shropshire Blue cheese in the back of the fridge with a sell-by date of October 07. He's eating it.

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