Day Twenty Nine - Robot Television

I remember when I bought my telly. I was 17 and it was one of the first things I had ever bought myself when living on my own. I had walked around the shop for a little while, soaking in each one to decide which one was for me. I had never really had money to buy something so big before and I had been living on my own for a while. Sat in between a lot of the fancier screens was this little fat television. It looked a little like a robot, a bit ugly. I liked it. I stood and looked at it for a while then noticed it had a little embossed picture on the back, of a little cat. I was sold, and so was the television.

About a month ago I decided to get rid of the TV in my bedroom. There was only one in there from when I was married as Eyebrow's used to play computer games till all hours and work shifts so it meant there was always a room he could play games in. Since I left him I had no use for it, as I only ever slept in my room, and sometimes watched a film on Atticus. So even though the spare telly was a lot bigger then my little robot telly (and my tall friend called me a fool for keeping the robot) I got rid of the spare on Freecycle.

Two days later my little Robot telly started to sulk. After I had turned him on and sat down to watch which ever program was on the tellybox and got a cat on my knee he'd go "poough" and turn off. He started to do this quite sporadically, which was infuriating as it wouldn't happen at all, then it was happen 14 times in a hour. I spoke quite sternly to my robot telly; pointing out that I had defended him when my tall friend had deemed him too small, square shaped and looking a little like a cartoon rocket. That I had chosen to stay loyal to my robot telly even though he didn't really go with the rest of my front room, which is mainly old oak furniture, and had an ugly wax stain on the top from when a candle melted onto it. It would seem that talking about getting a new top of the range tv had upset him, and he was going to act out, completely at random.

He had been fine for days, not turning off once. The I noticed that someone two streets down had a TV going, so I requested it and they kindly said they were going to deliver it to me. I figured I could have this new one ready (and hidden so my TV couldn't see it) so when my, not so faithful, robot telly did die, I would have back up. As soon as the other TV was in my house, robot telly started to go "pouuugh!" but with more gusto then ever before. Wouldn't even stay on a whole minute. I warned him that his time was limited and if he'd only behave he could stay living here with me. It was too late, I had offended him by even conceiving of a replacement, so he killed himself. I took him out to the front driveway to the same fate of every object that has left my house. The twighlight zone, the black hole where things just disappear over night. Some kind of sacrificial plane (although it did take a while for the Yellow Fridge to go) I carried him out the front and told him he had only brought this on himself.

I then went about my day and fitted the new (old) Tv. He is equally as square and small but he doesn't go "pouuugh" so that is handy. But he is a little boring to look at. I'd like him to do something interesting, maybily in door fireworks? Or perhaps some good comedy impressions?

Saw Brown Bunny briefly and we had a shlomp round Sainsbugs eyeing up the sales. Nothing really gripped me. My good deed was again simple, I let someone go in front of me in the queue. Only small but I can't save lives everyday. C'est impossible!

Tall friend picked me up and we spent the evening drinking wine and watching a mixture of heart wrenchingly upsetting and thigh slappingly funny television. Followed by one of the best nights sleep i'd had in a long time. Spent the morning reading in the Kitchen with Minky before my tall friend took me home. When I got there my robot telly was gone. Goodbye old friend, if only you had not got so sulky....

Day Twenty Eight - A good deed for the undeserved...

Woke feeling happy to be home, cats draped all over me, the familiar grip of asthma curling round my lungs followed by the usual skulking about searching for the stray poo deposited by the stray cat, Jason. Found puddles of what can only be described as 'water poo'. I need to find this cat a home, he looks so sad but I refuse to cuddle him as it would be un fair to him. He's looking healthy now, he's now white and getting a bit of a tummy, which is a huge improvement to the dirty beige colour he was when he first arrived and he was so skinny. I'm glad he's better but I would love for my house to not stink of shite.

I decided to go into town as I wanted some long length fingerless gloves as that means I can still type/ write/ draw/ take photos etc and keep my palms and my limp wrists cosy. I also wanted a little radio as my kitchen one died and I miss listening to Radio 4 as I pootle around the kitchen talking to myself and forgetting what I am doing. Plus the usual shampoo as I keep on forgetting to buy it and it's not the done thing for one to continue washing ones hair with shower gel.

Anyway, en route to the shop where I wished to purchase said gloves I was asked by two pre pubesant girls (i'd say 13) if i'd go into the shop of which they were loitering outside of (Supercigs) and buy them fags. No 'please' was mentioned, so I simple said "Nope". After which they decided to mock my accent loudly. I stopped and several things came into my mind of what to say to them... Why should I risk being arrested for two dirty little gutter snipes who probably wont be able to smoke as they will be pregnant before the New Year has peaked? Go into the shop and tell the people behind the counter what they are up to, but that could lead to them following me around for the rest of the day shouting intellectual things such as "slag" or "bitch", Pretend I am a police woman and put the shits up them (although the majority of the teens in the Midlands just spit in the face of authority and point out that nothing can be done to them until they are 18 - by then they'll have several kids all trained to be a tiny army of pick pockets and ner-do-wells), or pretend to be a doctor and mention that last week I treated a women in her late twenties who had cancer of the mouth from smoking and I had to have her lower jaw removed as a result of this, hoping that would give them the colly wobbles? but knowing the only way to get through to children like that is to take their money pretending to buy the cigarettes then kicking them repeatedly in the face until they drop and that wasn't really worth going to jail for, I just said something derogatory using words they couldn't understand then stick my finger up at them behind me as I walked away (using one term they evidently did understand) and due to their massive lack of intellect they didn't know what to say. By the time I had waited for the lights and crossed the road I did hear them trying to shout something, but seeming as it had taken them all that time to think of that and it only consisted of one syllable I thought I could probably deduce the jist of what they were trying to put forward. Ignorant little cunts.

So there, my good deed, un appreciated and un deserved. I know that someone who is just 18 will see their request as a compliment and gladly buy them cigarettes. But I would not. So for today I have almost saved some kids from cancer.... well, saved them from a good 14 minute coughing fit at least. They shall live to see another day, and I bought my gloves and decided that I would wait for the January sales for the Radio. £20 is too expensive for summit so teeny.

Day Twenty Seven - A very small good deed, so small it's just a dee...

Got up very early this morning with Tabba curled up on me feet. Stayed in my brother'd old bedroom, which I call 'the pod' as it is right at the end of the top floor of the house. Furthest from the front door. As I woke I deduced that it would be the perfect room in which to sleep if the world was full of zombies. Dad's house is the perfect location but the pod is the best room. It's all the way down the long corridor and you have to go through one room to get to it. Both doors lock to, so the zombie's would have to get through the first door at which time you would have heard them; at which point you have a choice of small window (quite low down so would not damage if lept) but if the zombie's were out the front you could go up into the attic door (also lockable) where you can access all the up stairs rooms (most have guns in anyway - country folk) and there is another main attic room which used to be my other brother's bedroom which has a ladder back down to the second floor, or if that's got zombie's on it, it also has an abseiling fire escape so can get away that way to. All these things are true about my father's house... apart from the zombie's coming from all directions (this time).

After plotting my escape from a possible apocalyptic situation I fed Tabba, then went for a mooch around the fields being, followed by the sheep, then walking to the river to see the tree I used to hide up as a child. I then nipped to see the chickens who all sounded like individual whistley kettles at different stages of boiling. I made recordings for Lettuce so she could listen to it on the flight home - lucky son of a gun. I took some photos of dad's house as I have finally found away to make panoramic shots, I could never usually fit it on a camera properly. Awkward shaped building. Sadly this blogger wont let me upload the panoramics - pffft. So I shall upload the one from my dad's fields allt he beautiful mist (just imagine the zombie's stumbling forth)

I did some cleaning, went to collect the wood so the log basket  is full for my dear Papa upon his return - planned out the intro to a zombie film whilst I did. *note to self: think of both title to zombie film and rather spiffing soundtrack* Finished cleaning the cleaning, and tripple checked the packing in a borderline OCD fashion then got some eggs from the chicken run. the beauty of 'real' free range chicken's is the eggs are fucking huge. I got terribly excited as I picked up a corker and was convinced it was a double yolker. Sadly it was just a big egg, so I had it on some toast and managed to finish up just in time for Madders and her brother Tobin to arrive to take me to the train station. As we were leaving some random old boys slunk past our orchard with their shotguns over their arms, obviously off for a Yule Tide culling of some sorts - I flung open the boot in an attempt to get them as their silhouettes as they looked brilliant against the sun... alas I was too slow (or the old boys were much more nifty then they appeared)

Madder's and I skuttled through Norwich to get to the train station, a little pre-mature as we arrived 20 minutes early. My good deeeee, I let everyone older then me get on the train before me. To be fair one of the women (who was probably about 67) looked really appreciative, coincidentally she was the only one who said thank you, so I thought perhaps she was the kind of person who holds doors open for people or lets someone in front of her in a queue, so that felt good.

Long train home, but it was fine, I edited photos on Atticus, read Dracula, listened to my i-poood and was utterly overwhelmed by the sunset and the flat horizons (something you don't see in the midlands) Got to Nottingham to discover that trains between Notts and Derby had been cancelled for the day - brilliant. Fortunately I have fan-fucking-tastic friends and Brown bunny came to collect me. I love her.

Came home to cat poo, kindly deposited by Jason, so I cleaned up and bleached the floor like a bastard. Gave my lovely nieghbours chocolates for looking after the cats (they admited that Jason's eating noises gave them the right colly wobbles - he sounds like the devil is in him) then put some scran on, opened a bottle then dive bombed onto the sofa to watch hours and hours of Sky Plus.... where I still currently reside. Aaaah. Home Sweet Home x

Wow! Five days in one, Day Twenty Six - Forced Festivities

Apologies again for how lame I have been at writing the last few days, I know you are all on tenderhooks anticipating what will happen next in my life. Sadly, has been not so exciting.

I spent Christmas Eve, Eve with Wifey. She lovingly made me a gorgeous Christmas dinner with all the fancy trimmings and the table set and everything. We opened crackers, danced in the snow, drank heavily, opened presents and shouted to everyone about how much we adored each other. Red Lobster came home to find us shooting at each other with foam disc guns with our cracker hats askew. We had made him some dinner for him though. We called the Chicken 'Snow Wifey' and she tasted great.

I headed on the train to Suffolk to stay with my Dad, I had not wanted to go as was feeling decidedly shite about last year but after a mixture of comforting words and vicious threats from my dear brother I decided I would go. Lengthly journey and was greeted by the strangest sight. I was at one end of the platform and noticed that people were suddenly jumping out of the way from something. When they parted I saw this strange character running like a bastard towards me, a fireball of colour. I then realised that it was my father dressed in bright red cords and a sunshine yellow jacket bombing it towards me like he was running from a bear. I did contemplate darting to the right to avoid him and pretend I didn't know this loon who was rapidly picking up a dangerously fast pace, but by this point is nimble knees had reached me and almost knocked me down.

Had a rather spiffing time with my brother although had the usual struggles around coping with my father, but was alright. Didn't help that I was still feeling so annoyingly blue. Had wonderful presents. Widget (my perpetually grinning brother) bought me my fav Stolivich Vodka and gave me a brilliant massage. We also drank plenty and he cooked a rather cracking fillet of Venison. It.... was.... amazing. Thought i'd add here dad's home grown butternut squash's. They are supposed to look like this but I found them rather malignant looking.

Boxing day Widget and I headed to Colchester to check out his new house. Very nice. Then headed back to Suffolk to the the party with The Numpties (dad's gang) which was silly party games, fine wines and roast lamb. One of their own lambs which made it taste even better knowing the springy lamb had, had such a jolly Suffolk life.  They also have many, many farm cats. They are very cute but all out doors, but they had let one kitten move in who was tiny. I thought it was about 5 weeks old, but apparently she's 3 months but just hasn't grown. I fell in love, but I have no room. I did think of keeping her as travel kitty. Here she is sat on the chair, how teeny tiny?

Today all the old's, plus Widget headed to Newcastle to my cousin's wedding. I spent the day with my eldest sister and glorious niece and am now home alone at my dad's with just the roaring fire and Tabba for company.

My good deeds you wonder? I have been doing the family good deeds, entertaining relatives at both ends of the scale, the very young and the very old. So have been having very in depth conversations with my 96 year old Gran about how she feels this will be her last Christmas (she says this every time I see her, as I said to her "You keep promising this Gran, yet every time I visit - here you are!") then other very serious conversations with my 4 year old niece; her wearing green eye make up in her eyebrows and on her upper lip, a little the like the Fuhrer, plus a bridesmaid's dress, snow boots and a brown afro wig; about how she is a very busy 27 year old lady who has to re build her brick wall. Both conversations were gripping. Am also going to clean the house in the morning before I leave so my step mother can relax and just chill when she gets back from the wedding.

So now I have the one night before home. Madders (Widget's beautiful missus) is over later to join me in a rather spiffing meal of left over Venison and home grown malignant veg plus very posh wine from my father's wine cellar. She is also taking me to the station on the moro, which is very kind of her. What larks. What else could make this evening brilliant? oh yes... my favourite beer...

Day Twenty? - a sea of gray and Bleu Caraquo

I have lost count of the days. So many good deeds, I cannot count them all.... or I have just forgotten, Like I often forget where my legs are or why I am standing in the kitchen. So I am going to go with day twenty for now.

Had a good day yesterday. Got up early and hosed myself down and made my hair look pretty (not a difficult challenge) then I mooched into town to finally return my coffee machine at Lakeland's since one of the cats, who chose to remain anonymous, pissed on the electrics. After that it refused to make coffee. So I trotted into Lakeland's and they said that they could not swap it as they don't make that brand anymore but they would give me store credit. I walked around for literally and hour with my brain on complete overload as to what to get myself. I then decided that my good deed would be to spend half the credit on myself and the other half on friends presents. After roughly another 30 minutes of ball breaking decisions I chose a rather spiffing mop and headed home feeling rather smug and also, my age. Never thought i'd get so excited about a mop. (she says after always proudly getting her umbrella hat out at the slightest hint of rain - oooh dear)

I used the mop when home and discovered that all the cats fear it hugely. It has a squirty adapter and they completely shat themselves. After I had finished I walked into the kitchen to discover them taking it in turns to his and lunge at it, very funny to watch! Decided to play Harry Potter on the Wii until my tall friend arrived to pick me up.

Went back to my Tall friend's house where I was warmly greeted by his lovely mother then lept upon by a recently sodden Lettuce. We drank wine and exchanged some brilliant gifts, hopefully they liked all mine and I splurtainly loved theirs, one of my fav's I am not allowed to mention (I assure you it is nothing to do with badger bating) We then shlomped off to the photography club Christmas party bringing Lettuce with us. Which was both good and bad. Good because we have so much fun. Bad because I felt like a naughty kid in school being made to laugh. Upon arriving Lettuce found it highly amusing that her tall brother and I visit this club everyweek with every member being at least 15 years our senior so the room was a sea of gray and beige. We did get some nice cheap drinks and I won a bottle of Bleu Caraquo in the raffle. It did taste a little like the first bottle ever made and we deduced that it had been doing the raffle circuit for quite some time. We still drank it though.

Went back to theirs, Lettuce with a hunger for cake making. So we made chocolate twat cake and watched another shit scary film with my tall friend teetering on the edge of the sofa slowly filling his trousers.

I felt quite bad as I slept in bed with Lettuce after we all got the colly wobbles and kept her up all night with my grunting and panic breathing. But got to witness Minky having a brawl with a particularly sneaky looking bit of ribbon which made me chuckle. Then my tall friend took me homo. What larks!

Four Days in One - Been a bit slack

I had meant to write on Friday, then I had meant to on Saturday, then Sunday but have been hugely busy then a little deflated. Still feel kum quat deflated so I shall make this brief.... hopefully.

My good deeds I shall tie into one. Went home to Momma's for a mini Christmas. Poor Mum is so stressed out. Geoff's been really bad and with all the work on the house as well as that she was on the cusp of breaking point. It was a little heart breaking watching her cry from frustration and Geoff also cry. I let her have extra time in bed and I cooked dinner and cleaned and listen to Geoff talk about how confused and frustrated he is.

I am hugely worried about my poor old Mother though, I do fear the stress will kill her. She seems a little worried about that to, so I reassured her that if something awful like that happened I would give up everything and move in with Geoff so he'd never have to go in a home, she said that was a huge comfort to her. I am going to stay over once a week in the New year so Mum gets an evening off and I can do some therapy with Geoff, going to re teach him how to cook so he can help out Mum more. I wish I had a car so I could help out more. Maybe all my good deeds will randomly land me a car... either that or a stroke.

Looking forward to this evening with Lettuce and her tall brother, that should cheer me massively. Plus their radiant mother is cooking beef! always a winner

Day Fifteen - Down memory lane

My good deed for today was to talk to Mo (bird like tutor) again. She apologized for being late to Literature and commented that although everyone has their own problems and it really shouldn't be an excuse, she also had problems at the moment. At coffee break time I was heading towards the stairs when she asked me to go in the teachers lift with her, I asked about her husband first of all (sensing that she hadn't asked me in the lift to get a closer whiff of my perfume) and straight away she started talking about how he fell over and was pouring with blood from his head, but being a man refused hospital and she had not slept since Friday. Poor Mo. She obviously felt better for off loading on me. I have found I have a few people using me for that purpose these days. I say 'using' not as a derogatory term. It's nice to know I am such a comfort to people, makes me feel like I have a purpose. Other then just spouter of bollocks and cat warmer.

Enjoyed Uni today. Mo gave us a general knowledge quiz. We had to make up our team names. Myself and my team mates proved both our age and our twattishness by calling ourselves 'The Irritable Vowels"... we did win though, and circled the room in a huge gloating fashion, like true old winners.

Got the bus to town as it was raining and I had lost my umbrella AGAIN, and met Pinty for a hot chocolate at The Strand (a lovely little cafe that boasts high tea and scones) I also had the delightful pleasure of meeting her youngest, Douglas. Who is stupendously cute, cheeky and almost identical to his mother. They spent a lot of time sticking their tongues out at each other whilst nose to nose, the similarity was uncanny, and also delicious, they obviously adore one another. I know all parents love their children, but the constant grinning between these pair is gorgeous!

We had a light scrant around the Westside centre, but I had to leave shortly after as I was buying presents for Lettuce and Wifey and Tin-Tin and I really had to stop as I was rapidly running out of money. So I got the bus home (due to the massive rainfall) which was when I started to tumble down memory lane. As my i-pod shuffled onto Angel by Sarah Mclachlan, a song I listened to constantly when I first moved here 10 years ago, at the grand old age of 17, and I haven't really heard for about 4 years and my mind plummeted down the swirling vortex of my previous years occasionally twatting itself on something i'd completely forgot about. For example the old shop I used to walk passed daily which used to say "Star Discount" but had been altered to say something entirely different and massively offensive for the middle of the street, yet it was stood there for 5 years without one complaint. In fact it was only when I stood in the street to take photos, it was taken down the following week. So glad I managed to get a photo of it...

Aaah, I do love the things I remember sometimes. I would stodge down into my brain for another memory for you all, but I shall save them for you. It is only day fifteen after all.

I got home. Tidied. Did all the laundry. Hung up a few Christmas decorations, which cheered me up a little. Wrapped a load of presents, which really cheered me up. Ate some food. And now I am sitting on the sofa covered in over grown kittens wishing I had a diet coke grasped in my chubby fist.

It's going to snow over the next couple of days, I am SO EXCITED!

Day Fourteen-teen - The Yellow Fridge

I wish people wouldn't use my driveway to turn their cars around. I always think I have a surprise visit (possibly from Johnny Depp or Jared Leto... oooh or Dawn French or the not so recently deceased Dudley Moore. I am expecting a lot of surprise visits) Soon I shall have a fine over sized gate preventing three point turns and such. Although I did notice, two days ago, that someone had FINALLY stolen the broken fridge from my driveway. It's been sat there for 7 months, and in that time I have had my driveway block paved. Even the builder wasn't kind enough to skulk off with the broken down yellow fridge.

I had loved that fridge. It looked cool in my kitchen, Sadly it was not cool. It was broken from the day I got it. The old fridge donated by a couple who ran the bowling green which had been shut down by the council. The council were now demanding an extra grand a month off them. They had kept it going for 18 years. For those 18 years they had done the place up and kept the plague of drug users out, merely by using hard core perspex rather then glass so they could not break the windows, and many spikes so they could not get to the roof and windows. I am telling you, this place would be ideal for a zombie attack! Since they were forced to leave, the drug dealers had gone in. The spikes snapped off with determination and the perspex snapped. Their bowling trophy cupboard smashed and the kitchen door pointlessly ripped off. They were mortified by the council's actions. The woman was near enough in tears and her husband, his war medals jangling on his proud chest, was shaking his stick at the broken windows. They gave me their tiny under the counter fridge which had been painted a dirty mustard yellow in emulsion. At first I found it a little revolting, but was appreciative of the good faith as I had given Eyebrows the fridge freezer in the divorce. So was glad to have chilly food again.

It did not suit my new kitchen. But I fell in love with it immediately. It never worked though, that poor old ugly yellow fridge. It sat in my kitchen for 6 weeks not working but my affection for it grew. Eventually my kind friend gave me his old fridge so the dingey yellow fridge that stole my heart moved to the front driveway with the hope of being stolen (interesting fact: ANYTHING left out the front of my house will be stolen within three days.... apart from the yellow fridge)

The fridge then basked in the sunshine on my front driveway, with no one taking it. All sorts of gubbins did it's stint on my front driveway. Old tables, broken fans, recently rained on electrical appliances, bags of material etc... they all went within three days, but the yellow fridge was not taken. It became like the slightly over sized puppy with one eye significantly larger then the other at the pet shop. I had started to forget about the yellow fridge but then last month my new driveway was done. You see before I had the radiant block paving I had disgruntled concrete. The fridge also had friends on the driveway. Eyebrow's smashed up Peugeot 306 named Claudia and my neighbour's broken down Little Rascal van (which I'd always secretly wanted to own and have it permanently filled to the brim with little sandwiches, so that every time I opened the sliding door, millions of little sandwiches would spill onto the road and I'd try and stop them in a comedic fashion until I was buried in a pile of sandwiches. I do have very animated day dreams.) Claudia had been in an accident in 2006 and had been on my driveway as Eyebrow's had kept her for "spare parts". "Spare parts" translated means, large broken car pissing me off every time I saw it, making my house looking like a pikey's abode, and not being moved.

After Claudia and The Little Rascal were removed by force the yellow fridge became more apparent. But still no one took it. After my driveway was done the yellow fridge was parked neatly behind the newly planted apple blossom tree (Sheldon Brown) and it looked very sad. Eyebrow's made a proud announcement that he would take it to the tip for me... which was all it was, an announcement. As I had discovered from Claudia's three year stint on my front drive, things don't get moved when requested.

But on Sunday when my hairy friend dropped me home the yellow fridge was gone. There was a square shape in the gravel where it had sat, and I did feel a little sad. Mainly as I did not know where it had gone. The rag bone man had already vocalized his distaste for it and said he would remove it if I gave him £50 for it. So where had it gone. Where is it now? Is it on a farm with other fridges? Is it a new home for a small dog? Has it been taken in by an old microwave and a toaster that wont toast for some strange menage et trois? I shall never know. That does sadden me.

My good deed for today was holding the door open to about 16 people, non of them said thank you. Someone just turned around in my driveway again. Cock teasing bastards.

Day Thirteen - Indeedy do

Slept terribly, I woke early and decided to inform Uni I wouldn't be in until lunch time so that I could try to get some sleep. That was at 6am. At 9 am I was woken by Eyebrows, who was being very erratic and reminded me a lot of how he used to be earlier on this year. After being shouted at, for nothing in particular, then hung up on and then shouted at some more, my hope of sleep was gone.

I showered, did some work then headed off to Uni. En route I text Eyebrows (knowing he'd be asleep) asking him not to contact me un-less very, important and to write via e-mail if he does. My good deed was to distance myself from him. The good deed was primarily for him but also for me. I am tired now, and I am starting to resent his voice, which I never wanted. But if you keep ramming your car against a brick wall, it will eventually crumble.

Enjoyed psychology, am starting to study schizophrenia and personality disorders, ironic much? Walked to town and met Wifey and Red Lobster for a drink, t'was only brief sadly, but have arranged for Christmas get together next week, plus I shall be seeing them at the Interesting Jumper Party. Brown bunny gave me a lift home and popped in for a cuppa, where she insisted we did a search for a man phallating (how ever spelt) himself. Interesting, I can say I can cope without seeing it again. Sadly I fear it will haunt me for many years to come. Not recommended.

Tall friend picked me up for photography club. Competition night. I never seem to find the jokes funny, but the whole room seems to erupt with laughter at most of the comments. Maybe it's something that comes with age, such as constant coffee breath and the urge to wear a body warmer. Christmas party next week - we are bringing Lettuce so am very excited about that. All the members will be chuckling about the price of combs and supping on Creme de methe and we shall be doing Jager Bombs off each others backs and mooning people through the window, WHAT-HO!

Day Twelve - helping out a hairy chap

Yesterdays blog tried and failed a couple of times, so it came out a mish mash, although I am sure you will all cope without knowing what happened to me on Friday.

Woke, massively cosy on my friends sofa then yawned and slid nicely into a cup of tea. Had a very intellectual conversation about at what stage it was still ok to feed a venus fly trap a dead fly when there would still be enough blood in it and whether or not the fly automatically expelled it's blood upon death. Then my tall friend kindly took me home. I gave him an old sky remote as a thank you. what can I give him tomorrow as a token of my appreciation? a partially defrosted meat ball? The insole from my hiking boot? the treats are endless.

I showered and ate a vegan pie, it was niiice. Then My hairy friend called to come and pick me up to go to town to mull over the stresses of his relationships. (I became very aware that my neighbours may think I was up to no good when it occured to me that I was dropped off in my pjama's by my tall friend at 12:00 then picked up, dress this time obviously, by my hairy friend at 13:00. what do these divorcees get up to in this day and age I wonder?)

We sat in the Friary for a drink and tried to analyze what may have gone wrong, from his part, relationship wise. Then after we decided that a cup of tea at my house was a better option being cheaper. Got very excited at the prospect of a program entitled "Pet chimp rips of owners face" but it was a lot less interesting then we had first thought, and just told us of what we had already known about keeping pet chimps. Don't keep wild animals as pets. They are wild. They will, inevitably, eat your legs or rip your face off.

Hairy friend went home. I cooked a small joint of beef for myself, managed to neatly slice off part of my finger when cutting it, but that's fine. Watched Fat Actress then went to bed. Didn't sleep AT ALL. Stupid nightmares.

Days Ten and Eleven - Two days in one, because I can

Had a rather spiffing night all in all. Much joy and merriment, and Pinty seemed to enjoy herself.

Woke the following day to find a pint sized Scottish woman in my bed. Got a lovely call from Bozz on Skype who got very excited by the posh tone of my voice and the Scottish garb emerging from Pinty. I then spent the day slithering round the house cleaning in a half arsed fashion and being horizontal watching bollocks on Sky plus.

Several people phoned me for both advice and general chuntering. I showered and flattened my hair and face then sat and wrote Christmas cards. Just passed 6 my tall friend picked me up and we went to his, where he, Lettuce and I watched a small cluster of things on TV and ate left of vegan Lasagne. I have to admit I did shit myself during Paranormal Activity, but felt the end massively anti-climatic.

Was sad that Eddie Izzard's dvd was such a poor effort. He was so good live this year, and to be frank I am annoyed at him as when ever I recommend a show at theirs it always ends up being a stinker! COME ON EDDIE! SNORT IT OUT.  he shames my name.

No obvious good deed, although I feel my general wit and internal farts for my good friends are a good enough deed for anyone.

Day Nine - Taking time to talk to a teacher

Woke today to the gentle purring of Nelson. A small, but very cute cat (who is currently curled into a splodge with her mother and sister. A collage of tabby, ginger, stripey and gray - with the occasional twitching ear) I had slept well, which was a good sign.

Got up and showered. Found a little Jason sized cat poo on the bath mat - it did not phase me, I just flung the mat into the washing machine. Tried the heating AND the telly. Both worked fine. I am starting to think I have a ghost. Got ready for Uni, fed all the cats, turned to witness Agnelli projectile vomiting off the sky plus box. Cleaned it up and then strode off to uni with the sun blaring feeling smug about nothing more then my own smugness.

Arrived at Uni, we are doing our advertising course work in English at the mo, much fun. So Martin, Liam and I spent the day laughing heartily and recording our advert in the sunshine only to discover (after 4 hours) that the camera was broken. Fortunately our Lecturer (the aforementioned bird like one) likes us and has said we can have an extension. To be honest, she offered us that before the camera broke...

... My good deed. Yet again small. I couldn't find the charger for my video camera so we had to borrow one from uni, So Mo (fleety bird) said she would take me downstairs to sort out a camera for me. Just as we left one of the students started demanding to know when she would mark the essay we had to hand in to student services two days ago. And poor Mo, started to expell this little tweety rant about how students seem to think that tutors have nothing but their work as their lives. Aside from marking all their other classes they also have things to deal with at home.

After letting her simmer for a minute I quietly asked if she was ok and if everything was alright. Turns out her husband has got cancer. Has had it for a long time. This weekend he had just had one of those bad weekends so she was just constantly in hospital with him. She was fine, she just needed to get pissed off a bit I think. Maybe she found comfort in me becuase of what happened to Geoff, so she felt I could understand. Either way I was happy to help, and understand now why I always liked her.

In all honesty, the woman who had irked her into this fury in the first place, annoys me greatly. She sits in a group or equally as annoying women who all tend to blame the world for the fact they have so many children from equally as many fathers, so as a result they make us all suffer with poorly thought out jokes and ill thought out guilt trips. Urrph.

Do hope Mo's husband is alright though, have no idea how shite that must feel and I massively hope I never have to.

Day Eight - More good was done for me then anyone else

Today was a stinker. Woke feeling freezing. Went to the toilet to find A LOT of runny cat poo all over the floor. Cleaned it. Still no light in bathroom. Tried to turn on the heating. Greg still refusing to talk to me. Jumped in the shower. Halfway through water went freezing, evidently Greg wasn't to annoy me even more. Got dressed. Turned on telly to flatten hair. Telly turned off. Turned it on again. Telly turned off. Walked away from telly, fed cats, made cup of tea, snuck up on telly and turned it on again. Telly turned off. Went to get favourite comfy poncho from Equador. Jason has pissed on it.

Left house with tears in my eyes and bottom lip scraping heavily across the floor.

I got to Uni and bumped into my friends' parents, so had a cheery chat with them, then proceeded up to Literature where I sat in the corner and vocalized my huge desire for coffee, until Mo (my bird like lecturer) suggested everyone went and got one. After confusing the lady behind the counter as Costa (who evidently left education around the time she was awarded the title "sand pit monitor") by asking for a large coffee with 5 shots of espresso in it, I marched back up the stairs with my bucket of caffeine and a slightly fierce twitch.

Enjoyed Literature as we are studying Dracula and I appear to be funnier when moderately pissed off and every so slightly ranty, plus a lot of the class have left and the ones who have left are the less witty and interesting chaps so the conversation is much more rivetting.

Maths was it's usual, a mixture of massively dull and hilarious with a slightly odd interjection that one of the chaps in my class is on You Tube fucking a ham sandwich. I did request that he not be offended if I didn't look it up.

Walked to town to meed my tall friend, I had planned to buy him a small cake as my good deed for the day, but he finished before me and had to wait around for 15 minutes waiting for me. So rather a nice thing for him, turned into an annoyance. Slight fail there then. Had a lovely roast cooked for me by my tall friend's mother, t'was delectible. Also briefly got to see tall friend's slightly shorter sister, the lovely Lettuce. Was only a fleeting embrace, but was grand all the same.

Set off to shmoto shop course, (got a missed call from my lovely sister, which I was gutted about as I hardly ever hear from her now she's a busy doctor in the city - But had the best treat of her singing me the song from "Pete's Dragon", I love you to. Look it up if you don't know it) This was the last of our 12 week course and, in truth, we haven't been overly impressed with it so far. This evening though my tall friend and I decided to just dick about with photo shop in a childish manner, which made me laugh, snort and giggle like a child for the whole evening. We did stop momentarily and I tried to give my mince pie away as a good deed, but again it was foiled.

So no good deed achieved today. Which made me a little annoyed at myself. I was cheered up by various people though, which I suppose shows that what you give out does come back to you. Especially if it's gas related.

Must try harder tomorrow!

Day Seven - Supporting siblings

Ahhh, I love Tuesdays. I have no Uni. I have a whole day to do what ever I want. Today I woke up feeling quite smug that I lay in til 7:30 and there was not a snifter of runny cat poo in sight. Hunkered round the house doing all the washing and making masses of vegetable cous cous to get me through the snack phases to stop me eating crisps. Wrote an essay about a woman's gradual demise into insanity (The Yellow Wallpaper) turned the TV on eleven times as it's being an utter cock at the moment. Then made plans to be moochy throughout the day.

Decided to have a bath for about the 4th time this year, I shower daily - after living with just a bath for 5 years, you tend to not have as many. Was just relaxing when my little sister, Berty, text me. Not having a good time at the moment. Massive heartbreak. So felt she needed some sisterly love so told her she should come over for dinner and I can embrace her warmly and offer her my pearls of wisdom. She gratefully accepted.

Eyebrows made a brief apperance to collect the washing he had left the week before. Looked like he'd been poured out in a gelatinous state, made me feel all the better for deciding to divorce him.

Berty arrived, we trotted around Sainsbugs, then I attempted words of comfort as she wept on the floor of the kitchen. Hopefully I was of some comfort. Fortunately Jason diluted the mortified cries by doing a literal steaming shit right in front of us. Lovely.

Anyone want a cat?

Day Six - All the little things

Quiet day today. I woke, freezing, at half six and noticed that Jason had snaked his way onto my bed during the night. Fortunately no wet poo. It was so dark, and the bathroom light is broken, so I lit candles for my shower. But due to there being no heating the bathroom got so steaming it put all the candles out, so had a bit of a scary shower in the dark. Then had to battle with Tom Tom who, for some reason un known to me, likes to lick my knees after I have showered. Teeth chattering I got dressed and flattened my hair. Felt decidedly forlorn so put on dueling banjo's as I started to walk to uni, followed by some Yann Tiersen and felt fine by the time I got to uni.

Fell asleep during Cultural Studies. Post Modernism architecture for two hours did not grip me. I only piped up once to point out the hidden picture that Michaelangelo painted on the Sistine chapel after learning it on QI last week. Finished off my essay in the library afterward and scowled at the girls who were whispering on the top floor, the silent floor. If I wasn't allowed to eat my lunch up there, they most splurtainly aren't allowed to whisper about boring shitey bollocks including Top Shop and the Uni bar.

Psychology was good, as ever. Tried to record the voice of the annoying girl on my dictaphone, but she rudely sat too far away. I did accidently shout out "Bollocks" as a gut reaction to the statement made by the lecturer that men think about sex constantly and women very, very rarely do. More personality tests proving that I am more masculine then feminine. Over heard the annoying girl whispering to her equally annoying friend that they had decided that I was a lesbian and they didn't seem very happy about it. Aah, a glimpse into the life of twatty teenagers.

Walked home, feeling rather brave and bold, through the park in the pitch black. I was stomping along when all of a sudden the light of my phone reflected onto the inside of my glasses and I absolutely shit myself thinking someone had just thrust their face into mine, a ghost obviously - being the totally rational person that I am. After that I was completely petrified. Very aware that I had a 15 minute walk through a dark, dark park I proceeded to call everyone I know so that I could give them my bearings so they could pin point me if I got attacked by a ghost/ mauled by a bastard badger/ bum raped etc. Finally got a hold of my dear mother who amused me greatly when I said I was in Cultural Studies this morning she said "You did what with cod dear?" I love my mother, she is an utter loon.

My good deed... a very simple one... I gave £1.80 to the chap who begs on Saddler Gate. I used to give money weekly to all the beggers in Derby when I was 17 and had money, they used to call me Angel. But since I've been poor I have neglected to do so. I can afford my house and I can always scrape money together for deperados, therefore I should start giving money to beggers again. No excuses!

I also went to visit Wifey at Quad, always a pleasure. Even if it was only for 20 minutes.

Day Five - Cold Toes

Spent a rather delicious floaty Sunday scrunting around the house, cleaning up cat poo and writing a psychology essay on obedience. Nowt like delving into the details of the torture tactics of the Nazi's to put you off your dinner.  Fortunately my dear friend, Lettuce, was on her way over so I traipsed out of the house to meet her.

 After a slow mo reunion under the bright lights of KFC, we spent 25 minutes staring blankly at the wine isle at Sainsbury's before scurrying home stopping briefly for barks of laughter after trying to deduce whether or not a peacock could ring a door bell.

(This was because when walking home the other day there was randomly a peacock mooching around)

After arriving back home we started to unload the shopping. Old Lettuce was rummaging around in the fridge and I was having very stern words with Greg (the boiler) when I heard the most grotesque noise. I turned, expecting to see Lettuce looking very ashamed with slightly bent knees, but no. It was Jason. A tiny cat I have been having to foster, squatting on the kitchen floor with a large wet, bubbly poo puddle forming around his ankles. There was about a 47 seconds where Lettuce and I stared at each other with a range of emotions on our face. All emotions were taken over by our gag reflexes so she flung open the back doors and I sacrificed a towel for a soaking up the shite, whilst dry heaving like a bastard.

After bleaching the floor and soaking up the fear and disgust with a pint of wine we continued to cook some rather cracking vegan food and watch a very poor horror film. I did start to notice that every time I turned to look at Lettuce she had another layer of clothing on. My heating is sulking at the moment, it comes and goes, but it's totally sporadic. I started to feel that I was doing rather the opposite of doing something nice for someone since I had a house guest who was not only freezing to death, but had also been subjected to some pretty horrific feline bowel issues. So my good deed for the day? I warmed her feet with my sweaty palms. What a good friend I am!

Day Four - A good deed for an old friend

Yesterday I got a call from my best friend in the world, her step-sister had died of cancer so she was down briefly to see her Mum but wanted to see me to, so we arranged a meeting for today. I walked into town to meet her and her brother, (who will always look like a potato to me, when I was a todler he was entirely spherical) I took them to my usual stomping ground, the Friary, and bought her lunch and gin. She did seem fine. They had been expecting her sister to die for a very long time so they had all come to terms with it.

As soon as her brother left to mooch around the shops I took her for some Desperados. Last year when a seperate friend and I were both going through some really tough times, we found our weekly meeting over Desperados were just what we needed. Weeping, talking, then eventually drawing on each other and laughing til we shite. So I took my best friend for the same ritual.

Obviously again I can't go into detail, but it's pretty horrific seeing someone you love so un-happy. Wish I could do more then Desperados and making her laugh. Stupid geography making her live so far away.

Day Three - A poor excuse for a good deed

Sadly today's has been a bit of a bumbleweed effort. Although I staggered around Sainsbury's with sheer desperation in my teeth looking for a good deed to be done, there was nothing. No small child teetering on the top of the adult cereal shelf after he had got over whelmed by the curiosity of the elusive boob shaped corn flake, ready for me to swoop in and catch him in my arms as he plummets towards the ground. No bachelor carelessly ignoring the wet floor sign only to slip and spin 9 times through the air like an ice dancer only for me to skillfully throw scatter cushions to cushion his fall. Not even an old lady choking on a rusk.

So today's report it pitiful. It was my friends birthday, so I went round with two bottles of posh wine and gave him my last jar of home-made onion jam, plus hours of my radiant presence and thigh slapping wit.

Day Two - One good deed deserves some vodka

Weather wise - today was rather scrunty. My tall friend kindly gave me a lift into town to save me time. Ironically and rather irritatingly we spend the majority of the journey sitting stationary in the car watching the population of Normanton slither past the car in their ill fitting trousers and toothless grimaces. I did make it into town in time to catch the uni bus and managed to englulf the entire bus under my poncho and within my soft plumage.

Scurried in for my brief meeting to deduce whether or not I am dyslexic or not (are you dyslexic? yup - thought so, you so look the type, have some tinted plastic to read through in a vague fashion) I lumbered up to my first Lecture, scoffing to myself slightly at the writing on the board outside which had previously said "Wee on my tits" had now been slightly altered to "Wee on my nits". Apparently head lice, although unpopular in school, was now semi popular with the local groups which embarked on light scatting.

Lecture was gripping as usual and left myself and my two friends (three of the oldest in the class) questioning our knowledge over Adverbs and Interjection. Followed by two hours of brain storming in the library with slight bursts of bulbous laughter before we three parted and filtered off in different directions.

Aaah yes.. The good deed. The reason in which I started this blog in the first place. Today my good deed was to donate my time to a friend. She's been having an utterly shite time recently which has just been amplified by the distinct lack of support from her family. Recently (after a very distraught phone call from her) I offered my services as a therapeutic ear and self confidence boosting instrument for her. Obviously for free. After about two weeks of gentle persuasion she agreed (she had been worried that I was too busy with my life as it was and due to her massive loathing of herelf had felt she was not worthy to take up any more of my time) Due to confidentiality reasons I cannot divulge the contents of our therapeutic conversation, but I did leave hers two hours later with her feeling a lot more positive and happy, and I made a very good attempt at tiring out her 2 year old by locking him in a deep storey about all the trousers I have ever owned and how Bagpuss, although slightly creepy, could beat the shite out of Iggle Piggle.

After promises of an equally good, if not better session next week, I set off into the night, clutching my broken i-pod which only works if I hold it at a slight angle. I set off into the night to meet my delectable dear friend off the bus, after which we both floated through town like shiney teeth to meet our pint sized friend for a swim around the spirit shelf at the Friary.

After hours of vodka swilling, whisky splurting and loud, thigh slapping hilarity (including the surrounding people to curiously hunker towards us - purely to catch a snifter of our brilliant babble then repeat to friends who evidently didn't give a shite) we all went home. After being safely deposited  on the bus by the aforementioned delectable friend I pondered upon my day, and also upon my life. I may be a rather podgy, badly dressed short sighted splodge, but the people I have in my life are rather terrific, and if I could train Raoule to do so - I'd have him write it in his web!

Day One - Searching for a good enough selfless act...

It is now 14:34 and as I decided to do this about 30 minutes ago, and I am about to leave Uni, to go home then out again to a photography course this eventide, I felt I'd have to see if I'd managed anything selfless today already without actually realising, to get the deed done.

After staying at my friend's last night, I headed to Uni early and arrived about half an hour before my first lecture: Literature. Did my usual of chuntering away to myself, spouting the usual irrelevant gubbins to my fellow students who did their usual; looking at me and laughing in general disbelief and slight confusion. No selfless acts, although I did make the lecturer laugh on several occasions and share my fat free/ wheat free/ free free snacks with surrounding people who all promptly regurgitated them into a hankie. Almost a nice thing, if the things I gave out hadn't been perceived as rancid by the receivers (note to self: try pick an mix for next week, or perhaps a medley of narcotics?)

Skuttled off to my usual hiding place on the 9th floor where I sit in the enormous window seat on Atticus and look pensive at the horizon for an hour before mandatory Maths. I did stop en-route to pay some money towards the 'Stop discrimination against AIDS' charity, which I would see as selfless as I really don't have money at all, but then was not only given the shiney red ribbon but fruity lube and fist fulls of condoms were also thrust upon me, not to mention a very nifty condom case; which I got very excited about. Then my class mates saw these cases and all left to give money for the cause in the hope to get a shiney case - so although not for the right reasons the cause got some money. But I did get quite a lot of shiney stuff, so again not entirely selfless.

After feeling rather put out and wondering if I should buy a cake for my friend who would be accompanying me this evening to make him feel happy, one of my class mates, Dale, piped up that I had already done one for him. In Literature he had arrived late due to traffic, the lecturer was slightly miffed and made a remark about him being late to every lecture. At which point I politely pointed out that he is always on time in his other lectures I share with him, I didn't know he had heard, but he said he really appreciated me standing up for him.

So there. My first selfless act. It may have been tiny but it did make an impression, even if it was only a little dent. Hopefully the deeds will be better, shall try and plan them around the people I see daily, and try and throw in a few sporadic numbers to strangers on the way... Force and elderly lady across the road? Not kick a pigeon?