Some Saturday Night Ramblings

I have two siblings and as children we weren’t particularly buddies as there were four and eight years between us with me being the baby.  The other pair were both war babies and I was born in 1949.  I suppose Hitler was the cause of most family planning from 1939 – 1945.

As my father had missed the early years of my brother and sister’s upbringing, when I came along my mother said”this one’s yours”.  I didn’t find out this information ’til I was in my forties and another bombshell was that told me she didn’t like me when I was a kid.  She made up for it when I grew up.  Bless her.

I don’t remember our house being a very very very fine house when I was young.  We were poor but then so was everybody else so I wasn’t really aware of any poverty – apart from the fact that “no” was said a lot but I just put that down to “parents”.

I have recently got in touch with an old friend of mine.  Thank you Face Book.  We were great pals at school and it was said that we looked alike.  Losing touch is the easiest thing in the world.  All you have to do is nothing.

My pal came from a huge family – there was about twenty of them.  Ah no – I can remember six but here might be one I’ve forgotten.  My mate was the penultimate one and his little brother was extremely quiet compared to the rest of them.  I used to love going to their house as it seemed so happy compared to mine.  His Dad was a small, quiet man (but obviously a tiger where it mattered) and his mother was one of these non-stop work-horses of a woman.  T’was a very happy home.  Despite being a crowded house, I was always made to feel very welcome.

Ho hum.

Anyway – what triggered this piece of nostalgia – apart from the renewed friendship – is that I needed to right a terrible wrong.  I borrowed a book (John Lennon – In His Own Write) and omitted to return it.  A dreadful thing to do to a friend and I am ashamed of myself.  No – I have not returned the book – I’ve bought him a new one.  The original is probably worth ten million pounds now but hey, what the heck!

Sorry old mate.

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I went dog-walking this evening and saw a snake.  Its head was probably as thick as my thigh and without a word of a lie it was thirty feet long.  Wait a minute – oh yeah – its head was as thick as my thumb and it was about thirty inches long.  A real long, skinny little bugger.  However, I do have large thumbs.  It saw me before I saw it and it slithered off at great speed.  Thank fuck.

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Some or most of you will know that I live on an estate, or urbanisation as it’s known over here.  The vast majority of the people who live on the estate are English and of course vary hugely in their friendliness.  All the houses have bells or buzzers on the gates – apparently you don’t enter a Spanish property until you’re invited in.

There lies the difference in people.  One group (let’s call them the Cummins) invite you in as soon as they see you.  Another group – let’s call them Friendlies – will lie in wait for any passing stranger to invite them in at the drop of a hat.  Yet another group will prowl the streets looking for a free beer – generally these people won’t invite you in through their gate.

There was one guy – he’s gone back to live in the UK now,  I won’t say who it was but his surname was that of a gnawing animal that builds dams and his dog was the name of a very fragrant flower.   He had a pint or two in my house but I never got through his gate.  Mind you – he was an ex-Scotland Yard Inspector.  I’ve digressed.

The last group – let’s call them the Miserable-Sods would not invite you on to their property if it was thundering and lightning.  I was going to call them the Miserable-Twats but My Lovely Wife said that was too rude.

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There you go then – a bit of nostalgia, a righted wrong, a serpent and a moan about neighbours.  MLW is watching a film with an all-female cast – bloody riveting.  It’s called The Women.  Now I’m no Film Critic, but if I was, my review would read something along these lines…

“If you are of the female persuasion and you have fuck all else to do – go see it – it has to be slightly more pleasant than having a dose of thrush.  If you have the old meat-and-two-veg swinging between your legs – do anything else rather than watch this film.  Have a vasectomy, have your chest-hairs waxed, have all your teeth filled without anaesthetic, kick yourself in the balls – all these will be happier experiences”.

‘Bye for now.

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About Stevie B

I retired to the sun in February 2010. I am far from bored but I do need an interest (preferably one that pays).
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