<body><script type="text/javascript"> function setAttributeOnload(object, attribute, val) { if(window.addEventListener) { window.addEventListener('load', function(){ object[attribute] = val; }, false); } else { window.attachEvent('onload', function(){ object[attribute] = val; }); } } </script> <div id="navbar-iframe-container"></div> <script type="text/javascript" src="https://apis.google.com/js/plusone.js"></script> <script type="text/javascript"> gapi.load("gapi.iframes:gapi.iframes.style.bubble", function() { if (gapi.iframes && gapi.iframes.getContext) { gapi.iframes.getContext().openChild({ url: 'https://www.blogger.com/navbar.g?targetBlogID\x3d14970419\x26blogName\x3dgot+nothing+but+toejam\x26publishMode\x3dPUBLISH_MODE_BLOGSPOT\x26navbarType\x3dSILVER\x26layoutType\x3dCLASSIC\x26searchRoot\x3dhttp://apositivepessimist.blogspot.com/search\x26blogLocale\x3den_GB\x26v\x3d2\x26homepageUrl\x3dhttp://apositivepessimist.blogspot.com/\x26vt\x3d1936334061929898634', where: document.getElementById("navbar-iframe-container"), id: "navbar-iframe" }); } }); </script>
~got nothing but toejam~
simple hit counter
Thursday, June 01, 2006

Funny when you...


put two and two together isn't it. When memories and recognition collide.

One of my childhood girlfriends mother was an alcoholic. Single mother to my friend and her older sister. I can count on the one hand the amount of times she actually spoke to me. Would be a few less than what I said to her. She was always this thin hunched up, smoking woman who ignored us for the most part, while she slowly sipped her tumbler of drink. She'd occasionally hoarsely spit out my friends name, usually the reason for the name calling was concerning it being time for me to go home.

The mother didn't work...yet the girls always had "stuff". Whether it was the newest addition to their Bay City Rollers merchandise...[Which now I see some resemblance to one of them and that weak, insipid looking Pete Doherty]...or new clothes. Now I realise the clothes were probably from some charity and the BCR collection was made affordable by the mum not eating anything non-liquid. Their mum never socialised, just stayed in her minimalist but spotless home. In hindsight explains why the girls were quite sociable.

Funny when you sit and think about the parents of your childhood friends. This *thinking* was inspired by a mate of Kevin the Hospice Hottie...Simon at “homefront radio”...[I did have a stinking link here but it went that “blog not found” crap when I‘d click on it to test it...and now I’m going for a shower because I’m over looking for my error.]

I wonder what my son’s various friends that he has now will remember me like in twenty or so years. I’m pretty sure how one of his mates will remember me. Not exactly purely either. I can see it in his fifteen year old eyes. I tend not to converse with him outside of a few words. I’m pleasant. But I don’t muck around [as in stirring] him like I do with another one of my sons friends. I guess there is a big difference between twelve and fifteen huh. Thankfully.

I asked my loin spawn last night if when I’m old could I come and live with him and he’d look after me. Ungrateful little sod actually snorted when he said “nooo”. Reckons I’d embarrass him. Yes he would be correct in that. Guess I’ll have to hang out for grandkid[s]...hopefully one of them will take pity on their Granny and take me in.

Reading about the next “event’ to happen in my little country town. A Mardi Gras and Fly In. Wooo. I read further to find out it wasn’t a gay and lesbian parade. Boooo. It’s all in aide of raising funds for a volunteer air transport scheme...medical wise. An assortment of stalls and activities. Gumboot throwing and a dog show. Oh and the resident look-at-me-ain’t-I-the-best one woman show is going to be holding the stage...Fuck I hope I won’t hear her singing from here...while the President [no not your Bush] of the fundraising committee travels in from the Airstrip.

I missed the opportunity to put up baby photo’s of my son. Funny when you look at the various photo’s. We would nearly all have the same scenes. Offspring in bubble bath, offspring with food smeared all over their face, offspring naked as the day they were born, offspring chewing on the dogs nut.

What do you mean your kid never chewed a dogs testicle?

Yeah, neither did mine. But I reckon that would be a funny bloody photo.
Posted by apositivepessimist :: 10:45 pm :: 9 comments

Post / Read Comments

-----------------oOo-----------------