Voyage of discovery

Day 8

Being without children now until Sunday evening I enjoyed my first real sleep in for nearly ten years. This resulted in me sleeping until 11am and waking up in a rather high level of pain given that my morning medications where due at 7am. It took some time for me to pull myself together to face the day I had planned but I did eventually get myself going in the early afternoon. I threw some stuff in a bag, grabbed the plethora of charging cables a modern girl needs and the laptop. I was off, like I often did pre-children, on an adventure!

I asked my next door neighbour if they wouldn’t mind opening my front door and letting the cat out at some point then it was a quick stop on in order to feed and count the legs on the first random horse I could find before hitting the road (it had been very naughty) to Cambridgeshire to spend the night with the biggest bitch in the the galaxy and her eldest, now frighteningly adult, progeny.

After an uneventful drive and brush with Milton Keynes I arrived mid afternoon and took my place on the sofa to begin my 24 hours of blissfully doing as little as possible in somebody else’s house for a change.

At first I didn’t realise what was going on, I was just sitting trading insults with the bitch when out of the corner of my eye the television caught my attention. The character being controlled by the progeny had just been killed by a giant scrotum that had descended upon him. Then I noticed what was going on in the background and my mind shall never be the same, I had the strongest need to bleach my eyeballs and then brain. Welcome to the game ‘South Park, The Stick of Truth’.

I used to watch South Park but haven’t done so for very many years for no other reason than if got a bit old and tired for me personally. I had heard there was a South Park game and it was rather, er, graphic but that was all until today. Every new twist and turn makes my stomach turn and mind boggle but I can’t stop watching the progeny play, it is hypnotic in its horror and I admit I have had a couple of giggles. I want to ask how on earth the writers come up with this stuff, unusually large Nazi zombie rats being one of the delights that awaits players of this game. I want to ask but I don’t because way back when, back when I was not much older than the progeny, this was exactly the sort of stuff my friends and I came up with and laughed all night about. Beaver Hi-Fi anybody?

We have had a brief break from the addictive shock factor of the game to enjoy a lovely meal that completely made up for my lack of a Christmas dinner yesterday. We also watched Coyote Ugly, a film the bitch and I watched obsessively when it was released but clearly I may have aged a little too much for that also, rather then just enjoying the film I found myself commenting that no bar owner would tolerate the amount of wastage shown. I found the idea of being able to buy a round of shorts for $10 very sweet. I also found myself giving the Father in the film a ranting monologue about misogyny and co-dependant personalities.

I have come to the overall conclusion that I have turned into a grumpy old woman who doesn’t understand the youth of today and is insufferable to be around. I have finally achieved one of my greatest goals in life.

Back home tomorrow to find that horse to feed and count its legs again, get back to Daft cat and give him lots of cat crack™ Dreamies to ease my guilt.


Pictured: Affair?

It won’t be long until Sunday evening and the return of the boy and girl. I can then continue the programme of training them as my personal army that I commenced yesterday morning.


Pictured: Home protection system.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s