Monthly Archives: August 2006

unstoppable force meets immovable object

Last night we were sitting in Piazza Saloto sipping our ginger ales when Stef exclaimed ‘English, no doubt about it’. I turned to see a couple, slightly the worse for wear, walking hand in hand across the square.
What gave them away was not their inebriated state but the fact that the man was wearing black addidas tracksuit trousers and was topless, in an Italian city’s main square at 10:30pm.
Stef and I chuckled (smug bastards that we are) and continued to sip away.

Less than 5 minutes later we heard two girls singing and shouting in English, now these two were quite clearly rat-arsed (drunk). They were holding out a half empty bottle of beer, trying to give it away to passing men. They spotted a table at the next bar where three Italian men were sitting and proceeded to run over screaming ‘CIAOOOO’ and forced them to take the bottle, shouting ‘go on, have a drink, get pissed, enjoy yourself’
They then skipped across the main road in the direction of the earlier couple.
One of the men stood up taking a napkin from the table and carefully, so as not to touch the bottle, wrapped it around the neck before carrying it at arms length to the bin.

What surprises me is not Stef’s look of dread, as it dawned on him that this may very well be the start of the much heralded ‘English Invasion’, but my own revulsion. Alarming when you consider that less than three years ago a good night out for me involved 10 vodka and diet cokes and getting my arse out to passing commuters on the Tube.



I have developed an irrational dislike of Lala, I just can’t stand that sanctimonious self-righteous pompous cow. When she does that ‘It’s lala’s turn now Tinky Winky’ with her hands on her hips, god I just want to smack her yellow face in.
Stef said this is proof that I am the most acidly intolerant person on the planet since the teletubbies were created to inspire love and affection in all, he then proceeded to tell me that actually he doesn’t really like Tinky Winky…

Any questions for the corneal abrasion expert?

I do not cocking believe it. I have once again been rendered blind by my own so called daughter in what can only be described as a further vicious eye scratching incident.

This time the child, formerly lovingly known as B Girl, decided to scratch my right eye ball, which apparently, you may not know this, is directly linked by a string to my left eyeball.

This meant three whole days with both eyes closed shut, one sealed with a layer of gunk and eyelid swelling and the other merely sealed in terror of the pain on it’s counterpart should it dare to move.

I have come to the conclusion that the child is trying to blind me permanently so she can continue to squirrel away cheerios behind the sofa without getting a bollocking.
Help me.

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