Mosh Pits , Naked Bits (No brad pitts)

Thursday 26th February 2009

Mosh Pits and Naked bits, but sadly no Brad Pitts................

Now were was I, oh yeah, we have fabtastic seats and at 8.40pm on the above date the lights go down and the band come on, a concert in the round is possibly the best way to see such a band as Metallica 25 years and still rocking? (even I feel exhausted thinking about the partying these guys must have done, all that and still the give a wonderful show, infact a wonderul experience) Obviously plenty of tunes from their new albumn Death Magnetic, which I have to admit I havent heard yet, I was pretty much on my own in this as the crowd sang along enthusiastically (they had done their home work and i had been found out as a fake phoney yet again) nothing else matters, and a few older one I did sing along to (look i dont feel guilty as a busy housewife, mother of two teenagers and holding down a full time job, learning the lyrics of every song by metallica just wasnt that high on the agenda,,,, i know i am protesting too much, maybe i do feel a bit bad,) now, having found out that a friend was in one of the private boxes around the arena, coutesy of a sister who works for a company who has one, I quickly scanned round looking for the right logo, i didnt find it, but directly behind me what my little peepers did fall upon was....................................

A woman with her top off posing suggestively holding one of her breasts having her photo taken, with three other men looking on with bottles of beer smiling. This quite shocked me but I then thought of two things:

1) she could have been a hooker
2) was it a works outing, does she work in an office with these people?


and finally I went for the second thought, and you know the poor woman probrably hasnt been out in ages and just got a bit giddy, a few too many black sambucas can really make even the most sensible of women act in such behaviour (no I am not saying I was that soilder) but all the following day I worried about the terrible self remorse she may have been feeling, worse than any hangover can ever be, she could be sat somewhere now reading the problem page of womans own and wishing she could share this debauchary with someone , anyone?


Looking round the sea of faces as we left the arena I have to admit there were more than a few i recognised from the mid to late 80's, in various stages of ageing, you can throw, marriages, divorces, children, maintenance payments, mortgages, credit crunches, pot noodle lunches, and many stomache paunches at these die hard fans, they are and always will be rockers at heart.............

may the headbanging continue

thats all i have to say about that............

god forbid anyone puts those bare chested snaps on (red) face book and Mrs Jones from Hale is recognised, I mean she teaches at sunday school!

leeds

Leeds Festival 2009

Apparently – Leeds festival is a “family festival” the tickets are £180.00 each, they go on sale on 31^st March and “everyone” is going.

It was mentioned last year in passing by F like this “ next year if L goes to Leeds can I go with him etc…” and last week it was mentioned again and I don’t recall saying yes, I listened to all the reasons why she should go

• All my friends are going
• It’s a family festival (honestly stick the word family on anything and it sounds legitimate)
• She never got the desk for her bedroom for Christmas*
• It could be joint Christmas and birthday present

So all this discussion/argument happened from 11.50pm until 12:20am Thursday/Friday 19^th and 20^th March 2009. I thought of many things after two shots of amoretto and a shot of Jamison’s, I thought that sending her to a grammar school where I couldn’t possibly compete financially or materially for her may have been a huge mistake. Then I thought of the Friday conference calls with her headmistress to come up with a plan to get her through these last few weeks at school and come out with the best possible results and outcome from someone who has lost interest in anything but makeup, hair straigtheners, and having a good time. Then I thought of tough love and that going badly wrong involving F running away from home (not even taking her mascara and straighteners!!!) and me having to go on national television for some “come home all is forgiven plea” only I wouldn’t feel like saying that it would come out as

“You selfish bastard, I can’t believe you would put me through this just because you having got your own way”

“Now get your boney arse back home to stretford”

Not so sure that would go down well on granada reports with Lucy Meecock and Tony (smarmy) morris.

Anyway I don’t remember much after that, some weeping in the distance not sure if that came from the very core of my soul, or the box room where Faye sleeps.

I have had enough, and am sorly tempted to purchase that black sambuca I had my eye on in tescos last week (the packaging is beautiful).

Mothers day this weekend, I don’t want anything off anyone, its all lip service, they can stick there daffodils where ever they want but they are not going in a vase in my lovely front room. Today I feel like I have items of furniture I love more than my own flesh and blood.

*The trip to Ikea never happened in the lead up to Christmas because, Sean’s car was written off and then his dad was taken into hospital were he remained his life slowly ebbing away unconscious on morphine until 1^st January 2009. I think the fact that Faye doesn’t believe in either father Christmas or our lord Jesus Christ means that we live in the real world and perhaps the desk for her bedroom from Ikea kind of took a back seat, not to be used as a bargaining tool less than 12 weeks later. Surely she should be in central government with that kind of brain (and no that’s not a compliment)

now where is that number for Parentline...................

mahoo

Freddie

Dear Peeps, still in agony after the tooth extraction, so hear is one from the vault .

I got an obscure question correct in a pub quiz once, pure fluke of course, I am not pub quiz material, it may have been one of my shining moments (like the time I knew what AD stood for in Religious Education, no one else in the class knew, but I had seen it on the TV the night before and asked my dad and as luck would have it, it was the question of the day and I was the girl with the answer! It doesn’t get much better than that, shocking my teacher as well as several classmates who had me down as a halfwit) so back to the question I got right in the pub quiz

Question: what was a number one hit for 5 weeks leading up to Christmas 1979 and New year 1980?,

Answer: One day at a time, by Lena Martell

The reason I knew the answer to this question that seemed to stump everyone else? Read on …..

Between Christmas and new year of 1979 I went shopping in reddish and bumped into Freddie, me and my mum were loaded with bags like a couple of packhorses and Freddie had a box of readybrek and a pint of milk, he said it was his weekly shop, and it probably was, he didn’t waste much time eating (but liked a pint or two especially if they were being bought for him *) my mum said that wont be enough Freddie and he said “I’m like Lena Martell I am, one day at a time”, we laughed and said goodbye, and it stuck in my memory forever after.

At that time he was divorced from his wife, at different times during the boys teenage years, when they had fallen out with mum and staying with dad seemed an easier prospect (I say seemed because, yes they could have all the freedom they wanted, no one quizzed them about their comings or goings, Freddie never laid down the law in any way whatsoever and this must have seemed very much what they thought they wanted, but neither did he ensure there was food in the cupboards or the bills were paid, in many ways he never grew more responsible than a teenager, and the boys came to their senses and soon returned to mum gladly even welcoming the house rules, roast dinners and curfews, it was a small price to pay for being looked after, there was order, with Freddie there was chaos) he was damn good company and because of this he was never short of a pint, who wouldn’t want his company he had a good sense of humour and was great company.

Freddie died last week, he had been in St Anne’s Hospice, which was very nice by all accounts but he wanted to go home, back to his flat near his local, the armoury on Edgeley, not that he had been well enough to prop up the bar there in a long time. He came home and was looked after for the last few days of his life by his three sons.

He would have been 80 years old three days later, but he never made it that far. He spoke to my mum, he said he had had a good innings and it was time.

The funeral was just two days after he died, I presume it had been sorted out whilst he was ill and he would have been ok with as little fuss as possible.

My mother went to the funeral, after all she had known him since he was in his twenties, two very funny stories were told at the funeral and though I had heard them plenty before they still make me smile.

One of his sons said he had moved in with him in because he craved some freedom, he got that all right along with the electricity being cut off and an empty fridge, he remembers on their way home one night they “borrowed” some lights from a roadwork’s, and they used them in the living room that evening so they could see the fish and chips they were eating from the paper, they were deep in conversation and every 4 seconds the room would light up.

One of my mums tails is of when her and my dad were first “courting” and he said to my mum when my dad left the room, “if you give me half a crown I will go out and leave you and john on your own”, my mum said “half a crown, you can sit there all night for all I care you wont ever get a penny from me”, she certainly beat him at his own game, because after huffing and puffing for 10 more minutes he went out anyway.

The obituary in the Manchester Evening News paper said “ he still had his dry wit right to the end” and even though I wasn’t present I know for sure its true, I suspect he may have looking back to his catholic upbringing and that myth of an after life who would he want to meet? No one in particular but he would be hoping for a warm welcome from the bar maid and a complimentary pint……

God Bless Freddie X

Dear All,

I am poorly today, After the naughty tooth was extracted, the healing process has not gone according to plan, I now have something called "dry socket", which according to google is very painful (your not kidding) andonly occurs in 3%. So I am am putting up an old story on my blogg to hopefully entertain until I am back to full health.................... Laters Mahoo X

Lola and the Mouse…..

Ok, what am I doing, the coast is clear its like I am actually “waiting “ for something to come so I can go after it, keys in the ignition, bit of gas, clutch, into first get the biting point, up with the clutch handbrake off and ………… there is a 25 (effing)6 and I cant see what else behind them, start all over again, the coast is clear, move off, signal at the roundabout and into second, then into third get into the right position and get into four gear and away, well at least it feels fast only every tom dick and Harriet are overtaking me because I lack the confidence to go faster than 35 miles ph and cant find the nerve to move into fifth gear (I know it would be more economical with the gas) get into the middle lane at the next roundabout and drift, yep, drift from the middle lane to the one hugging the roundabout, forget to signal so no one knows where the fcuk I am going (including me) then get back on track don’t look at anyone, especially the very angry man waving his arms around and making gestures to his brain I haven’t seen since primary school, honestly some people shouldn’t be on the road. The next roundabout, hug all the way round clip it ever so lightly then signal and move ahead then signal again (it came off don’t know why) then in first gear (there really is no point in moving up again, I will be parking up soon, surely the queue of traffic behind me can figure that one out). And park up. I look over at my hubs who has said very little by way of encouragement on this 8 minutes of driving for me. He doesn’t look very well, his lips have blueness to them and there seems to be a couple of beads of sweat on his forehead.

My legs are shaking as I walk into Asda but the adrenalin is pumping round my body, god knows what crazy items I have yet to throw into my shopping trolley (an ad mans dream surely)

We finish our shopping and hubs rather too quickly for my liking says “look you have done really well today, but I think you don’t want to over do it, I will drive back”, he is in the rather too small for him drivers seat before I can protest, I continue to empty our trolley of provisions into the boot with much more on the back seat, pineapple cream biscuits? Gormet sausage flavoured Doritos???

The front windscreen has a dash of dirt on it (hardly noticeable) but hubs seems to notice everything, he feels around until he finds what should be the washer, no water comes out, the wipers work ok but no fluid comes out. This is a job for JS the mechanic, we drop off our provisions, putting the frozen and perishables in the appropriate place. And get on up to the mechanics, we drive it into the locked now closed for the day aircraft hanger, (I don’t like it in there with my vivid imagination it could be where Dexter dissects or Mulder and Scully find aliens , or even Freddie Cruiger lurking in the shadows, we do make a grisly discovery of our own, but instead of frightening us, it turns two men white and one woman heaving violently with the stench of a 12 month old rotting mouse corpse. When JS says “ I think I can see a tail, of course I thought he was jesting”, after almost ten minutes of probing with some implement, rancid water and finally a tiny white mouse with a bloated stomach and no fur on it whatsoever, it turns out the fur was what was clogging up the water washer, and we thought it was lint from someone (certainly not the previous owner as we now know) had been buffing up the front windscreen – not!.

After disinfecting the whole area and JS disinfecting his mechanics equipment, this grim discovery had now turned to something from ER, they had been unable to save the mouse, it was a done deal but Lola will live to tell the tail (the mouse tail that is).

Mahooo XXXX

The Whole Tooth

It all started around June 08, I reckon, i thought it was neuralgia at first, having described the symptoms to Mrs L, and done my usual self diagnosis. The pain disappeared and came back with a vengence in October, in the middle of a friday nights slumber i was bolt upright holding my jaw. At this stage I couldnt even isolate it to a particular tooth, i suffered all over the weekend despite the article by Chief Exec Sheena C stating "no one will be left to suffer in the Trafford Area" well i beg to differ. All the dentists were closed over the weekend and i was offered an appointment with an out of ours standby for sunday afternoon but on the dental version of NHS direct the receptionist said "I wouldnt bother if i were you as they wont actually do anything", so i didnt i suffered, taking copious amounts of painkillers to the point of accidental overdose no doubt, and topped the lot off with a third of a bottle of Chiva Regal whisky just to enable me to sleep.

Monday morning came and i hotfooted it to Simpkins, where the glamourous dentist took an xray and confirmed it was an abcess, caused by a hairline crack in the tooth and some longterm seepage. So she gave me a course of strong antibiotics and removed the middle of the tooth and put in a sedative patch. She then informed me that the tooth needed to come out but its root was too close to my jaw bone and nerves, this was why i was in so much pain.

Anyway nice glamourous dentist was writing to the hospital for an appointment for me.

This was in October, my appointment letter didnt arrive until just before christmas and the date of 3rd March 2009 seemed such a long way off. Two more trips to our dentist, one more weekend of suffering and two more lots of antibiotics and the appointment is finally upon me.

I did a full day at work and finished at 2.30pm, got to the hospital for my appointment for 3.30pm. The room looked more of an operating theatre, lots of high tech equipment and I am having not one, not two but three injections to deaden the area. then the hard work begins plyers and lots of toolbox stuff comes out and after wiggling with plyers for 25 mins (3.40pm -4.05pm) the top of the tooth comes out, then another 20 mins of digging gets the remainder out. I was so releived to get this even pain causing thing out I hadnt once thought of the gap that will be left. I feel faint and need to rest for another 15 mins, then leave being supported by my hubs who says "you look like a vampire" as i have blood trailing from each side of my mouth. Once in the car he lovingly laughs "lets get you some peanut brittle that'd be funny".

I head straight to boots and purchase co codamol, and the highest strength of brufen they sell.

I come home and as I cant eat have some kind of fruit smoothy with a straw then after reading the paper i fall asleep on the bed at around 7.00ish. Hubs has a physio appointment, so any hopes of a quiet house are abandoned, two tv's in bedrooms, the one downstairs, mobile phones oing off, at one point of those youths throws the light on and asks "whats for tea" then i think they notice my incapicity and sort themselves out. I dont wake up till three in the morning, drooling onto my memory foam pillow and generally making a mess. Topped up on the painkillers and back to sleep.

I have a vague memory of making two cups of tea, two packed lunches writing a note for school (i just followed orders on the contents and intention of said letter).

Phoned work, explained went back to bed and work up for the day around lunchtime where i had another fruit smoothie and topped up the pain killers.

Its official I am now a toothless junky, I realise that was a really boring blogg and must try harder.

I am hungry now and considering baked potatoe and beans (but what if a bean gets stuck int he gap the tooth made)?

thats all, make sure you clean your teeth and avoid taking lids of bottles with your teeth in your late teens to impress people (I am more than sure thats where the hairline crack on said tooth originated)

Mahoooo