Saturday 24th November - Snot, Trumps And Pure Evil

My Top 3

  I could be the first person to do this if it hasn’t already been done.I think my head is so full that it’s actually beginning to stream out of my eyes in bubbling green rivers.  Perhaps that’s what sleepy dust really is, excess snot that has nowhere else to go.  Homeless snot that sells the Big Issue and have tiny snot dogs on strings of snot.  Sorry, I am a bit overwhelmed at the moment.

  That much snot can’t possible live in or around the nose itself, unless you’re Barry Manilow (did you read about how he broke his nose walking out of his bedroom and turning left into a bathroom he didn’t have! Awesome!), and the only spare space I can think of is in the brainial (nice word there!) cavity.

  This could be useful if you were ever to adopt a Property Ladder style makeover to the body.It’s only a matter of time before they do.Look at that dreadful Ten Years Younger Programme.  The rot has already set in.They rebuild you as if you were a dilapidated old building, sticking in posts and lopping off unsightly bits that used to be fashionable, but that now just hang round collecting dust and looking knackered, a bit like human pelmets ( I never have figured out what pelmets are for.  They sound military and just look like crap).  I think my thighs might actually be human pelmets.  With the stretch marks they have enough ruching in them to make a decent pair of Venetian blinds actually.

  Now, if we knock down this wall here and put in some French doors at the back, I think she’ll find it a much more satisfactory arrangement.There will be lots of natural light, an illusion of space, and she can use what’s left to let out to lodgers and have a nice passive income stream on which to retire when she becomes a monged out, dribbling vegetable.This will happen when I start knocking lumps out of the ceiling sorry, brain pan, here, and here…

  Today I would have been very happy indeed to have my eyes taken out a la King Lear.It would have relieved an indecent amount of pressure on my poor facial bones, which I am sure will actually cave inwards if something wondrous doesn’t happen soon.I will then look like an old lady with no teeth sucking a

  If Linda were in charge that moment would not only be tremendously heroic, it would also be quite pretty and have scatter cushions, although it might not last long before it all started to fall apart and look a little bit shit.I think Stephen is probably our man.  He knows a thing or two about human engineering. He’s basically a car with a giant brain and a face.

  They have a brilliant tool by which you can pose such random questions to all your mates in the hope that they will either a) solve your problem for you in a sensible way (and you can think: aah! I’m so lucky to have nice friends or Arrghh! Do they really know me at all?) or b) come up with some random piece of wonderfulness which you could share with others on your blog for a laugh, as long as they don’t threaten to sue you if you don’t share your pocket money with them for the rest of your lives of course.

  It’s the juicy (a word I hesitate to mention in conjunction with snot) details we’re after.The ones that either make you wet your pants or just go ‘ewwww!’ or even a bit of both.I bet the people who just go ‘yes’ or ‘no’ are the people who still pick their nose and eat it, and just daren’t be seen to have too much of an opinion either way in case we guess their dark secret and name and shame them in ‘Snot Flickers Weekly – First for Snot.’

  I asked a brilliant question the other day:‘If you could be the evil supervillain of your choice who would you be?’I got one answer from my friend Guy, who totally copped out by claiming that he wasn’t really evil enough to choose.What a waste.

  Jason has always wanted to be one.His very best favourite is Darth Vader.We even have a Darth Vader phone (thank you   Oscar loves the noise it makes, but the face scares him to death and he only has to look at it for his own little face to crumple up like a used paper bag in total terror.

  He’s only a teeny tiny super villain in training.We might take his stabilisers off in a couple of years, but for now we’re just practicing an evil super villain type laugh, some evil breathing and some vicious pointing.Maybe I should get one of those awful car sticker things that says: ‘Careful! Baby Villain On Board!’  Like a poster saying; ‘Baby on Board’ is going to make you more likely to not ram your own car into someone else’s.It doesn’t matter who’s in the car you plough into it’s not like you have a hit list of people that it’s alright to drive like a twat around and one where it’s verboten:

  Derek always takes care to drive particularly nicely for the Queen, babies, people over the age of eighty and driving instructors, but you know him.Anyone else is just fair game.It’s such a relief now that those natty little bumper stickers have come in so you know who you’re hitting.We like those fish ones, you know for the committed Christians.You don’t mind killing them do you?I mean at least you know they’re going on to a better life.’

  After all, Sunday drives wouldn’t be half so much fun if you couldn’t just mow down twenty year olds in Renault Clio’s and men who look a bit funny.Our speciality is people with nose piercings.We keep a score sheet in the glove box.’

 When she was a toddler she was very menacing indeed.She smiled once every three months, and we think that was probably wind related.It was so funny watching people attempt to charm her.When you have a baby people talk to you in the street, and will offer advice, encouragement, words of admonishment and generally take over your life in a way they would never dare to if you were on your own.Everyone who does this seems to take inordinate pride in the fact that they have a ‘way’ with babies, and because they are so appealing, that the baby must smile at them.Tallulah once made a woman cry in a shop after a twenty minute routine of the most overwhelming silliness and humiliation didn’t even render up so much as a curl of her lip.What a star!

  When she was, in her words: ‘very, extremely cross’ with you, she would point at you and shout ‘CRY!’ in a vicious voice, with all the commanding power she possessed.Unfortunately it used to make us absolutely wee our pants laughing, which would only stoke the fuel of her rage even higher.One day, when I’m in a wheel chair, she’s so going to get me back for that!I shall be shouting my apologies as my weakened, claw like hands scramble for the brakes, and I’m gathering speed towards the oncoming lorry.

  As they were so often caught doing heinous crimes in partnership I would do a double scolding.Consequently Tallulah thought that the words: ‘Both of you!’, shouted incredibly loudly was an insult, even if there was only one person to punish.She would get really mad with someone, stop dead in her tracks, put her hands on her hips and shout ‘BOFE O YEW!’ at them.Total bafflement ensued and more towering rage etc.

  The thing to bear in mind when picturing this scene is that Tallulah is what you might call diminutive, even for a four year old.She also has angelic blonde curly hair in the style of Shirley Temple and huge, china blue eyes.Inside she is a ravening werebeast of a creature.The contrast between what she says and does and what she looks like is what makes her so funny and also plays a huge part in the fact that she is still alive, and has not been cemented into a flyover on the M40.

  He was fantastic!In fact the whole Batfink thing was fantastic.One of my best ever presents for Jason was a t-shirt which has the legend: My Wings Are Like a Shield of Steel on it.They don’t make programmes like that anymore, and that’s not because I’m old and rubbish.Batfink is one of the few randomly strange telly programmes that actually does live up to scrutiny in old age, unlike the cringeworthy ‘Blakes Seven’, or the mind numbing tedium of ‘Hector’s House’, which for some reason I used to find a) terrifying and b) fascinating, in a way that can no longer be accounted for.

  Just before I do, I must tell you about the kids last night because it really made me laugh, and that was when I was enfeebled by illness, so I think it must really have been funny and not an: ‘Oh! I’m their mum so I think everything they do is either hilarious or genius’, moment.

  I must remember to buy her a drum kit for Christmas).It really is revolting stuff, and stains everything with little greasy smears which are impervious to even Cillit Bang! (I had some lime green slime when I was ten, which my gran bought me.My mum refused.They made me keep it in the fridge, and my mum opened the door too violently and threw green slime all over the contents of the fridge.I got blamed!Go figure.I wanted to keep it in my room!).

  A long silence and another shriek, followed by a low and persuasive voice:

  Touch it.Touch it. Go on!’

  It’s too horrible.’

  Do I go into the kitchen to find out? Thinks – No!

  It really is a trump.That’s what trumps look like when you capture them and put them in a bottle.It’s difficult to do, so you have to touch it before it escapes.’

  Listen to the noise it makes (pokes it squelchily to make gaseous belching noises).That proves it’s a trump.’

  How come it’s pink and purple then?’

  You can’t see them like that when they come out of your bum because they’re all gassy.Go on.Touch it again.’

  Ten out of ten to Tilly for pure ingenuity there.Almost as good as the time I convinced my brother he was going to turn into a werewolf because he’d put some of Dad’s shaving foam on his chin.Sometimes I worry about Tilly because she is so nice and honest, but every now and then she redresses the balance with a bit of pure, kid like evil that makes me rest easy in my bed!