tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-82626077329521876082024-03-07T06:31:43.282+00:00BeastlinessBEASThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15428640137434521072noreply@blogger.comBlogger357125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8262607732952187608.post-69673079675102311272022-01-20T15:07:00.000+00:002022-01-20T15:07:41.626+00:00INTRODUCING BAT SHIT CRAZY ALBERTINA<p> BSCA is my cleaning Buddy</p><p>The closest you will find to her is a chirpy cockney that inhabit 1940's war films set in Blitz wrecked London . There is always a cockney char lady who would say things like "Gawd bless you govnor yur a real gent ! " as she scurried about with a mop and bucket and would likely break out into a rousing chorus of "Roll out the Barrel" or the "Lambeth Walk" at the drop of a hat. </p><p><br /></p><p>She scurried in on one occasion looking perplexed and squawked at me</p><p>"Why do people think I am fucking common" ( a shortening of the idiom As Common as muck which implies a person of lower class , lacking sophistication).</p><p><br /></p><p>She is an excellent cleaner , no messing about just gets on with it . She twitters away the whole time and you catch occasional nuggets from her strange life as she goes along like</p><p>"and that's how I learnt to build a bomb! "</p><p>"imagine my surprise when it was MI5 banging on my door , and me in the shower"</p><p><br /></p><p>I tend to nod wisely and don't ask</p><p>I addition to being a super cleaner she has other talents . She is a Mr C whisperer . When we are approaching a full moon and Mr C has one of his heads and is kicking off about something or other he rings BSCA and they have a chat and magically all is well but she also communes in a weird way with Mr C's dog Toby that comes to stay when he buggers off on his travels.</p><p>Toby adores BSCA and he is allowed out when she is about. He follows her about as she cleans leaning on her while she twitters away to him .</p><p>When Toby went back home last time BSCA asked me if I was missing him , I said I was but I did not miss the endless game of Ball and Blanket (Hiding his favourite ball under his blanket , he then scuffles about , kills the blanket , gets all tied up in knots and eventually retrieves the ball which I have to hide again...... it goes on for hours)</p><p>BSCA then announced that Toby feels the same way and only plays it as he feels it keeps me occupied and I seem to enjoy it . She then followed up with that Toby felt I was a bit "special" and needed to be looked after . Special in inverted commas meaning special needs .</p><p>Firstly the bloody cheek of it and secondly not being paranoid I just knew they were talking about me :-(</p><p><br /></p>BEASThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15428640137434521072noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8262607732952187608.post-91648753064660650512021-12-31T16:25:00.000+00:002021-12-31T16:25:41.741+00:00HAPPY NEW YEAR<p> Happy New Year to 1 and all ;-)</p>BEASThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15428640137434521072noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8262607732952187608.post-67471133150720050632021-09-14T15:10:00.001+00:002021-09-14T15:10:34.278+00:00And then I got COVID<p>Its was all going quiet well .</p><p>Double vaxxed , working from home. A few masked up supermarket jaunts to keep fed but to be fair going a bit crazy being stuck on my own all the time</p><p>Jagos was allowed to re open . The first couple of weeks were a bit of a stree but it is doing well</p><p>Then things started to open up a bit and I was sent 3 times a week to work on the Customer Services desk for the council in the local library .</p><p><br /></p><p>and then I got covid</p><p><br /></p><p>It has proper knocked the stuffing out of me . I was rather unwell for about 3 weeks . high fever and then the cough started .</p><p>The fever was constant and came with a recurring dream of a couple , man and woman who were sat on my roof on these purple throne type chairs . They could not explain what they were doing there. Everytime the fever kicked in at night , there they were trying to explain round and round , they made no sense.</p><p><br /></p><p>Then the ghastly cough started and the hospital gave me a blood oxygen monitor everytime it was 92 or below you have to ring for an ambulance . Paramedic turn up first then if required they call an ambulance after putting you on oxygen and then you get carted off to hospital.</p><p>Each time I was held in a room on my own as I was Covid positive for about 8 hours while on oxygen . A rather peculiar oriental nurse kept creeping in and whispering to me that she knew about my secret drinking and that is why I was there. I did tell her multiple times to pick her audience as the last drink I had this year was on Christmas day to be sociable and it was a rather weak G&T as I was driving . on the third visit I threw her out of my room shouting</p><p>I (Cough) DON'T (Splutter ) FUCKING (Cough/Choke) DRINK (More hacking and coughing) GO AWAY!</p><p>At various points people would run in the room with a clipboard and shout HAVE YOU HAD A POSITIVE COVID TEST??!??</p><p>or 6 -8 by day three most of them done by you guys</p><p>They generally then looked a bit confused and shouted AND WHY ARE YOU HERE TODAY??!!?? </p><p>Well you have me on oxygen as I have covid and my blood oxygen was too low</p><p>OH !??</p><p>and then they would leave , I asked if they could help with the cough they just looked confused I had asked a question and shouted NO!</p><p>After a while I just started to make shit up but suspected rabies , a second head growing in my armpit(Which also had COVID) and dancing malaria was completely ignored .</p><p><br /></p><p>Usually at about midnight someone would come in and say you can go home now and would throw me out into the car park, coughing my guts up , Covid pos and 20 miles from home</p><p><br /></p><p>After the third hospitalisation I just made up the oxygen and heart rate figures so they wouldn't come and frog march me into hospital again.</p><p><br /></p><p>2 weeks on I am much better , Covid negative still got a bit of a cough and a bit short of breath </p><p>If you have ever had to clean a nightclub , on your own, with Covid......... not something I would ever want to repeat it nearly finished me off</p><p>Stay Safe all of you and catch us up on what you have been up to</p>BEASThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15428640137434521072noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8262607732952187608.post-64381912412194767252020-12-04T18:40:00.000+00:002020-12-04T18:40:17.426+00:00IN WHICH FROBISHER HAS A MANASTROPHE(UrbanDict)<p>I bumped into Frobisher the other evening when we all went out for dinner . Frobisher changed jobs a few years ago and was released from the control of Sarah Lawrence who has also changed career and is now the biker chick undertaker (don't ask! she now rides a motorbike to work , shouts an anyone who will listen that ITS A F*CKING BIG BIKE (any dissent or sarky comments regarding the bikes size may get a surprise visit to discuss ones imminent requirement for a funeral package).</p><p>Anyway Sarah ran a very tight ship and expected perfect manners, diction , grammar and spelling.</p><p>Frobisher is now working with young people and has gone all street.</p><p>He tells me his bitches be super swaggy . It took me ages searching urban dictionaries to work out he had probably bought his home help new rubber gloves.He also insists Tobydog is now called Tobydawg as the dog has 'madskillz'' </p><p>Moving on from Frobisher's ongoing mid life crisis(A manastropy in urban terms) and to Tobydawg</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSlVCxi9Mqmiv_1ambnFEyAFRYB-FbGdlk58nAo91xUl6S8TIsOTdQ1bJpI8Cheq8exSJj_swJxG67uRyXvYHB9UI5JjU81M88gzYM2ASbOrzc5Fq_7XTcnXmQj22O4ne5_L13XgHUEBQ/s1600/toby.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSlVCxi9Mqmiv_1ambnFEyAFRYB-FbGdlk58nAo91xUl6S8TIsOTdQ1bJpI8Cheq8exSJj_swJxG67uRyXvYHB9UI5JjU81M88gzYM2ASbOrzc5Fq_7XTcnXmQj22O4ne5_L13XgHUEBQ/s320/toby.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /> .<p></p><p><br /></p><p>What Frobisher doesn't know is Tobydawg does indeed have "madskillzz" and has been promoted to my therapy dog.</p><p>A while back when I had the bladder cancer removal opps they did something to one of my nerves controlling my right leg causing it to ache , tire very quickly and not work properly. The consultants just said oh dear well they do have to get you into some pretty weird positions to do the opps but hopefully it will get better. I limped around for about a year and it didn't reallly improve.</p><p>One day I was just walking down Mr C's back passage when Tobes came charging down the stairs behind me on route for the garden and piled straight into me at full pelt knocking me flat on my face. I mean lliterally face plant.</p><p>When I staggered up off the floor Tobes was just wagging his tail and jumping about . I could tell straight away my leg felt better. The discomfort had gone and it just felt different. and over the following few weeks I marched about strengthening it up . These days it is almost entirely back to normal</p><p>So Tobydog sorry dawg is now my chiropractor therapy dog</p>BEASThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15428640137434521072noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8262607732952187608.post-49350797724405455042020-11-22T18:52:00.001+00:002020-11-22T18:52:37.799+00:00COVID CLAMITY<p>There has been much discussion as to how people are reacting to these lockdowns and the often odd affects manifesting themselves.</p><p><br /></p><p>I had been booked in for a MRI scan to see how Brian the brain thingy is getting along . The main Dorset County Hospital being besieged by COVID patience, the procedure was moved to a private hospital called The Winterbourne</p><p>I turned up with plenty of time and then had to go through the torturous admittance procedures . You were so far away from the reception desk and having to wear a mask , receptionist balling at you WHAT IS YOUR NAME</p><p>WHAT??!?? </p><p>NAME??!??</p><p>COLIN!</p><p>STROLLING ??!!??</p><p>NO COLIN C O L I N </p><p>WHAT??!!??</p><p>After twenty or so minutes of this I finally was dispatched to the MRI scanner that was in a lovely trailer in the car park</p><p>Got all ready on the moving bed thing , neck brace , head immobiliser visor and earphones and the 2 nurses and doctor peeping over a barrier in the corner . </p><p>Just as the doctor shouted in we go! the thing started to feed you head first into the scanner .</p><p><br /></p><p><b>I HAD THE BIGGEST FUCKING PANIC ATTACK</b> . </p><p>never had one before in my life , had loads of scans before during the Brian episode nothing. </p><p>Jump up , ripped off all the gear and legged it into the car park . Finally bought down by the two nurses before I made it to the road(Excellent rugby tackle I have to say) with them both shouting RELAX .... BREATHE... YOUR SAFE NOW . </p><p>Some of the poor nervous devils traipsing across the car park to reception for their appointments must of thought I was an escapee from the birthing pool..I wonder how many thought fuck this and legged it.</p><p><br /></p><p>Both myself and the two nurses ended up in a heap in the corner of the car park and just laughing and laughing.</p><p>I was mortified</p><p>I am going to have to book another one and they have suggested I consider sedation next time round . The nurse explained they had been having a large increase in people reacting in exactly the same way , albeit most of them don't make it into the car park. The doctor thought it was a psych reaction to the loss of control of ones life during lock down.</p><p>They also suggested a bought a friend to perhaps hold my hand during the scan . </p><p>Can you imagine. </p><p>Mr C .got a moment ????!!</p><p> Bwha ha ha ha ha</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB5c2exp9gzOKvoADYTtLbZuE9zfXMz_RNRpNkAnhN2meg0CPZ-mwMRmQUxeHrnmekbUnnkT1WyRYG4FJfqjFdVhGE1ALT6RvAaXGhZHc8Z2ch0HOSnRTsfk9iibIiDs6gM3fN-SdaOAI/s580/carry_on_matron.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="327" data-original-width="580" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB5c2exp9gzOKvoADYTtLbZuE9zfXMz_RNRpNkAnhN2meg0CPZ-mwMRmQUxeHrnmekbUnnkT1WyRYG4FJfqjFdVhGE1ALT6RvAaXGhZHc8Z2ch0HOSnRTsfk9iibIiDs6gM3fN-SdaOAI/s320/carry_on_matron.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /> <p></p><p><br /></p>BEASThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15428640137434521072noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8262607732952187608.post-92106486062813527672020-11-21T13:19:00.000+00:002020-11-21T13:19:13.024+00:00IT HAS BEEN A WHILE!<p> Well Here we are again Lockdown 2.0</p><p>It has to be said it is not much fun</p><p>Banished from the office since March , stuck out in the sticks on me own , probably a little crazier since it started. </p><p>I have had a few weeks of respite looking after hellhound Tobydog while Mr C goes on yet another emergency holiday (Usually on the excuse that I drive him crazier than is bearable on the same continent but this is strictly dubious as I hardly ever see the fecker) but at least Tobydog loves me </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8bu_XrKAdJfSUtzIqOhISQZV64BFphsm-R8P55QMPhERuncx3000aZIQ7iUaE0yb7Lh7UpUJk3QHKnGF0HbvZJ2MVLclsrY78o0uLoifCjdOPjAyb86SUQekaAIVtE4k5aQPdZF4NqUE/s804/dog.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="768" data-original-width="804" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8bu_XrKAdJfSUtzIqOhISQZV64BFphsm-R8P55QMPhERuncx3000aZIQ7iUaE0yb7Lh7UpUJk3QHKnGF0HbvZJ2MVLclsrY78o0uLoifCjdOPjAyb86SUQekaAIVtE4k5aQPdZF4NqUE/s320/dog.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>We had a chance for a fabolous Cafe Jagos work appraisal in the early stages of the first lockdown.<div>Jagos being a nightclub still remains closed and we are not yet sure when it will able to open again</div><div><br /></div><div>Mr C's two other pubs where able to open in July but have been closed again for the second lockdown<br /><div><br /></div><div>Mr C opined that he had no problem with my work it is only if we are in the same room he feels an overriding urge to hit me!</div><div><br /></div><div>Mr C's long suffering partner James suppressed a snigger and said I think that was supposed to be encouraging 😁</div><div><br /></div><div>Now I must go and scout around and see who else is still blogging</div><div><br /></div><div>Laters<br /><p><br /></p></div></div>BEASThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15428640137434521072noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8262607732952187608.post-37907858242751237602019-03-20T19:48:00.002+00:002019-03-20T19:48:31.272+00:00Dinner<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />BEASThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15428640137434521072noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8262607732952187608.post-60295314460698733782017-11-22T22:20:00.001+00:002017-11-22T22:20:50.320+00:00BUSY BUSY BUSY<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_hsYm_pVjIpDmmktJ5-mG6pIIkF7FusMVjaK24bZyb_qnU_IJlIAmqSPd-mqDo45optau5ZAi-6w9_zkagfvzrz475i8gw3HLgA0LlyY3_kgUppeyeTZUy_r12jLLBJlZwRFhoipnpj4/s1600/cunty.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="244" data-original-width="207" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_hsYm_pVjIpDmmktJ5-mG6pIIkF7FusMVjaK24bZyb_qnU_IJlIAmqSPd-mqDo45optau5ZAi-6w9_zkagfvzrz475i8gw3HLgA0LlyY3_kgUppeyeTZUy_r12jLLBJlZwRFhoipnpj4/s1600/cunty.jpg" /></a></div>
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As our Mr C steams off into the sunset like a battleship in full sail .In need of a holiday apparently due to the constant stresses and strains of dealing with my dreadful attitude and constant bad behaviour .</div>
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Poor Beast has been unceremoniously landed with dog and Café C.</div>
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Hourly texts demand instant action on a full range of chores while Wolf dog Toby merrily shreds my duvet , shits in the flower beds and barks his damn fool head off at anything that moves.</div>
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The fucking mug says it all .</div>
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Be back soon bitches </div>
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:-)</div>
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<br />BEASThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15428640137434521072noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8262607732952187608.post-75886104520931967962017-10-21T20:32:00.000+00:002017-10-21T20:34:54.913+00:00BRIAN STRIKES BACK<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghMHrnutR5vzYbYztl3j7L1zSsNJSaH2o6XISg9atqma78jPqv-ZSDmCu9iw9Q8oFH4FPspjaVC6P-cFX8lPcCYTIBm7YbCWyYX9gZw_px_PhdSaCNnySIlu03XdB5zyQnj4XNLuZXNFM/s1600/windy.memes.12.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="565" data-original-width="706" height="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghMHrnutR5vzYbYztl3j7L1zSsNJSaH2o6XISg9atqma78jPqv-ZSDmCu9iw9Q8oFH4FPspjaVC6P-cFX8lPcCYTIBm7YbCWyYX9gZw_px_PhdSaCNnySIlu03XdB5zyQnj4XNLuZXNFM/s320/windy.memes.12.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
Yes OK its a whimsical picture of some sort of household pet , tho why someone would invite something that looks like Trumps hairpeace into their home is beyond me. I don't care. Bite me<br />
Storm Brian rolled in this morning , following almost hysterical coverage on all news channels .<br />
There was wind , There was torrential rain . While I was trying to load the booze For Café C into my car at the wholesaler it did both. I was wet to me pants. (for the benefit of our colonial and oversea readers , pants are undergarments not trousers .You will note I steered clear of the boot/trunk silliness. No wonder the US political system is in such a mess..... just sayin)<br />
I other news here is a leaked photo of Miss Scarlet annoying some farm animals.<br />
Everyone needs a hobby people . Don't judge<br />
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<br />BEASThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15428640137434521072noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8262607732952187608.post-78187827780495665252017-10-19T18:03:00.000+00:002017-10-19T18:03:57.441+00:00XMAS FUN WITH BRIAN<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Twas Christmas Eve last year . The telephone rang. A very worst for wear Mr C was calling for emergency assistance due to accidentally going out partying the night before he was left with a killer hangover and no Christmas gifts to present to Ma C and the gathered throng at Christmas lunch. Pleas of being busy and having prior engagements were brushed aside and I was to collect him immediately and chauffer him around shopping .Think of the poor disappointed children and not myself Beast I was admonished. . </div>
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Having loaded a groaning Mr C into the car and suffered a 30 minute lecture on my driving , amongst the moaning , groaning and ridiculous protestations of I am never drinking again we finally arrived at a well know retail emporium.</div>
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Mr C grabbed a trolley and crept off muttering and wincing in the general direction of the childrens toys. He blundered round the corner of the aisle straight into a very large display stand of DVD's , CD's and various other items of Harry Potter crapola . The whole lot went over with a very large crash scattering merchandise everywhere .Shop assistants and rubber necking shoppers rushed from every direction.</div>
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I was just thinking OMG . </div>
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Just as the the crowd all skidded to a halt at the sight of festive devistation Mr C as quick as a flash (hang over my ass) announced loudly . "</div>
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" Iam so sorry , its my friend , he has just been allowed out of hospital for Christmas . He has a brain Tumour " . He then scanned the crown and hammered home the point with " A BRAIN TUMOUR . At this point there was an audible collective gasp and a general clutching of pearls. All eyes swivelled it my direction.</div>
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I thought OMG and must have looked thoroughly wretched .</div>
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Mr C who was not to be stopped then chimed in with "frankly the poor soul doesn't know where he is"<br />
Everybody sighed<br />
I thought OMFG , and then thought well I had better start picking the bloody stuff up .<br />
As I picked up the first few items a little girly , must have only been about 12 and on her first Christmas job came up to me and put a kindly hand on my arm and said in a very soft voice " Don't you worry Sir , we will pick them up for you , you run along and have a lovely Christmas" <br />
She then made shooing motions , with "Off you go".<br />
Mr C had scarpered off at speed with the trolley .<br />
I was fucking mortified . <br />
When I finally caught up with Mr C who as lurking in home baking , giggling away to himself . <br />
I protested!<br />
I was told , shame on me for playing the brain tumour card and I needed to transport him to a more upmarket emporium immediately as I had publically embarrassed him and he could never shop here again . <br />
With this he magestically exited the store like a battleship in full sail.<br />
Wanker !</div>
<br />BEASThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15428640137434521072noreply@blogger.com25tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8262607732952187608.post-77703996495823057432017-10-18T20:19:00.004+00:002017-10-18T21:07:29.586+00:00INSIDE OUT - A POTTED HISTORY OF THE LAST COUPLE OF YEARS FOR BEASTY<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSh1rS1jD6CiXWMgl-NOSLNfILQpjc9Kk25UF9SQviJPgSeeAL3UF2hWcpw8CUf-kb8p5wktCaUoegZ5d7IUTrFewV3XxZ0cGLNFe5RjmjTTPJiLluSWXItma6AM78Je3vdKaxGIyrfxo/s1600/endoscoy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="375" data-original-width="500" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSh1rS1jD6CiXWMgl-NOSLNfILQpjc9Kk25UF9SQviJPgSeeAL3UF2hWcpw8CUf-kb8p5wktCaUoegZ5d7IUTrFewV3XxZ0cGLNFe5RjmjTTPJiLluSWXItma6AM78Je3vdKaxGIyrfxo/s320/endoscoy.jpg" width="320"></a></div>
<br>
It all started with high blood pressure (spectacularly high) and my left eye going a bit blurry .<br>
Doctors for blood pressure. Doctor asked innocently are you going back to work after this appointment . I said Oh Yes . Doctor said ...actually no , you must take this letter to accident and emergency . kept in for observation over night (Except I left at 10 pm pleading the case that the old boy in the bed opposite continually ripping his PJ's off and dancing about buck nekkid was not doing my blood pressure any good) . I had to promise to be back at 7 am for a barrage of inconclusive tests and eventual blood pressure meds ....... so far so good .<br>
<br>
Went for an eye test as I thought my prescription had obviously changed only to be sent straight to the eye hospital as I was steadily losing all the peripheral sight in the left eye. - tests inconclusive<br>
<br>
Tests came back , had protein in my urine so sent to Urology consultant. Now on the whole all the consultants , nurses and doctors at Dorset County and Southampton general have been wonderful , friendly and efficient people . Urology in their entirety that I have had the misfortune to meet have been vile . Pa Beasty is of the opinion that anyone who spends their professional life peering up deseases dangling bits is bound to be crabby. The first consultant was blantantly in a foul mood when I went in . She barked at me SIT . <br>
I said I beg your pardon . She then grumpily looked at my notes and test results and said . Blood in Urine? . I said Sorry ? She then screwed up her face and did a big sigh and said once again for the hard of hearing and the infirm! have you, sweetheart, got blood dripping out of your dick!!!<br>
I said (Rather forcefully) I BEG YOUR FUCKING PARDON ??? and glared at her.<br>
The rest of the consultation was somewhat awkward and another barrage of scans were booked (All inconclusive.<br>
Now this all wandered on for a year my eyesight was fading fast in my left eye and my blood pressure was marginally in control . Eventually a very funny consultant at the eye hospital suggested a brain scan as they couldn't find any other reason for the problems .<br>
Brain scan done and heard nothing for two months which everybody agreed was good news , otherwise , popular opinion said , I would have been hoiked back in pretty sharply .<br>
First appiontment after the scan was a follow up with urology. <br>
The consultant was eastern European of some stripe and didn't speak very good English .<br>
When I sat down , he looked at me and said what are you doing here , we don't need to see you anymore (and looked a bit confused)<br>
I said , Oh why is that were all the tests ok .<br>
He said , no its because you have something growing in your head , you had a scan yes???<br>
I was gobsmacked , I said are you saying I have a brain tumour ???<br>
He said , (Looking rather irritated) Well I don't know I am not an expert !<br>
I was thinking WTF , WTFF.<br>
I said , Is it likely to be aggressive .<br>
He said , Well you would be dead by now if it was<br>
and that concluded the appointment . I was horrified , so when I got out I phoned Pa Beasty .<br>
He said , How did it go ??<br>
I said not very well , I think he just told me I had a brain tumour .<br>
He then shouted out A BRAIN TUMOUR ! I heard Ma Beasty squawk in the background , there was a scuffle and Ma Beasty snatched the Phone .<br>
She said , whats going on , the silly old fool just said you have a BRAIN TUMOUR . <br>
I told her what had happened . She then started shouting at Pa Beasty, Allan its a BRAIN TUMOUR . There then followed about 10 minutes of Ma and a Beasty shouting BRAIN TUMOUR at each other like the other one didn't understand what they were saying . <br>
This was a theme of the next lot of conversations to be had . <br>
Got hold of Mr C and James who were just boarding a flight to some far flung destination . same result . Everybody (but me ) shouting BRAIN TUMOUR at each other , god knows what they thought in the first class lounge .<br>
Crashed the management meeting at work as after seeing a consultant who could speak English and knew what he was talking about the next day had booked me in for an operation the next week to remove it (Had to dash to Southampton an hour away to have an emergency consultation with a gore besplattered surgeon who popped out of the operating theatre to see me) , I would need emergency time off .<br>
Picture the scene . My fellow floor supervisors and our managers trying to stay awake during a routine meeting , suddenly the door crashes open , A hyped up Beast storms in , shouts I need time off next week as I have a Brain Tumour.....Collective gasp!.... then everyone starts shouting BRAIN TUMOUR again. I bet Joan Collins(mistress of the Dynasty dramatic pronouncement) doesn't have to put up with this shit!.<br>
Upshot of all this excitement was . Mr C flying back as he wouldn't let me go for the opp on my own.<br>
The night before the opp an endocrine consultant phoned my and told me the result of all the tests meant they didn't need to opperate as the type of tumour I had was treatable with tablets in the first instance(Very successfully) and I was very lucky ...if it works . <br>
By this stage I didn't know what to think . Mr C was not amused as he had cut his holiday short and just landed after a 14 hour flight. Soz ! :-)<br>
<br>
Now during all of this I did start getting blood in my urine , so had to toddle back to the doctors and an endoscopy was booked . Not the greatest of procedures , having a camera stuffed up your bits , but it was confirmed I had bladder cancer . I could have just sat down on the pavement outside the hospital and cried .<br>
Two opps later and a cheeky in bladder shot of chemo everything was sorted . <br>
Just had the first year tests for both the tumour and the bladder cancer .<br>
Tumour has shrank massively . My eyesight has recovered (The tumour was squeezing the optic nerve) . The very jolly consultant kept poking me, giggling and saying , you look so muchto better . He did tell me that as the tumour was so massive (A real whopper he giggled and prodded me again) I will have to take the tablets for the rest of my life . Apparently whatever this gland secretes normally has a level of 40 somethings in the blood , apparently my level when they first saw me was 40,000 whatevers . Imagine that he said . I said I didn't need to imagine it I felt like shit (More giggling)<br>
The level is now down to 17 . He was obviously very pleased by this . Beast was star patient for a second . Give Beast a balloon!<br>
Bladder cancer all clear , no reoccurrence and the opp wound had healed so well they had trouble finding it .<br>
<br>
So gentle reader all is currently well , I feel back to normal and nothing is imminently about drop off or explode .<br>
Mr C is as irascible as ever!<br>
<br>
Poor old Alfie and Lloydilicious have both passed on and I miss them greatly but Mr C now has the gorgeous Toby a beautiful Belgian shepeard , Wolf dog cross . Very boisterous but a real cuddle monster .<br>
I will be catching up with you all in your comments sections shortly .<br>
Toodle Pip<br>
<br>
<br>
<br>BEASThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15428640137434521072noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8262607732952187608.post-83168317221106229422014-06-11T20:58:00.001+00:002014-06-11T20:58:03.656+00:00I HEARD A RUMOUR<p dir="ltr">Having moved from a city to a village I am astounded that everyone knows everyone and all their business (real and imagined) </p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs_jNYRPNzOe7Lc6lGRPLt18CQdBGPlLeA3skzmEwuw46HtujW25YtjZlctv0aHxoJ_DwUSBTYKk7201NPRlVPMi7kaw1NyD2N9PoPjBm0rcXe12q8SlWr5D9e7rTx7W3i35xURgUaY14/s1600/IMG_622937084479635.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"> <img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs_jNYRPNzOe7Lc6lGRPLt18CQdBGPlLeA3skzmEwuw46HtujW25YtjZlctv0aHxoJ_DwUSBTYKk7201NPRlVPMi7kaw1NyD2N9PoPjBm0rcXe12q8SlWr5D9e7rTx7W3i35xURgUaY14/s640/IMG_622937084479635.jpeg"> </a> </div>BEASThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15428640137434521072noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8262607732952187608.post-70238041319619820522014-05-23T20:18:00.000+00:002014-05-23T20:18:45.851+00:00BEAST IS BACKWhat you may ask has Beast been up to for a year. that dear reader is very good question. I got made redundant in December 2012 from my 26 year career and then spent basically a year floundering about full time working at Cafe C ( which didn't work out well ) , selling my house 3 times , buying a house , which dragged on till feb 2014 , due in part to the Church of England land grabbing half my garden ( I kid you not , i had to beat the pinching prelates off with a battery of solicitors and stout stick ) and a swarm of wasps occupying my house which i had to fumigate the feck out of. Renovations commenced on an ever decreasing budget but i have finally manged to get the house into a very basic liveable space within the last month. Mr C hates my choice of blinds , choice of kitchen worktop , choice of handles, me and is refusing pointblank to visit. . I don't much like his curtains so we are currently at a mexican standoff . I will publish pics when I find where I stashed themBEASThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15428640137434521072noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8262607732952187608.post-80937166676679621142014-05-22T20:18:00.000+00:002014-05-22T20:18:06.047+00:00Beast is backWell i will be when I get my laptop back :-)BEASThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15428640137434521072noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8262607732952187608.post-1731879263705670752013-05-15T19:40:00.001+00:002013-05-15T19:40:45.755+00:00MOONING<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_KZko1BtP30h1hwRdrP2oci71DGqaLIfPeYu5LMBw2PO49rwdit6rAd-6N2Line5iEhgz-_Z4s6cqHfcl0GecWVt22ExP8tWYjmnD_Z8azRvSriaD_urYgm1FVHKmpZvzW6tCnsKi_eA/s640/blogger-image-1629443406.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_KZko1BtP30h1hwRdrP2oci71DGqaLIfPeYu5LMBw2PO49rwdit6rAd-6N2Line5iEhgz-_Z4s6cqHfcl0GecWVt22ExP8tWYjmnD_Z8azRvSriaD_urYgm1FVHKmpZvzW6tCnsKi_eA/s640/blogger-image-1629443406.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">We have eclipsed moons aplenty during May. This tends to make everyone go pretty much batshit crazy.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">The first evidence of this starts to show up in my floor sweepings following a Cafe C party night.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">What dear reader could be an explanation for this</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiz2jo77jMjl4WeNdc8Ay1rP9xi26nwZXgMu9ovVfIYhu6mwX65GS2EzbiYh1STfbykm9z2741BKhiFc_bZh5xE8Nt0w2_1b90vIaLvkcnvDNtjt4S5WYFxc2uS4w1CfPrLHbqyFbKis4s/s640/blogger-image-2146082916.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiz2jo77jMjl4WeNdc8Ay1rP9xi26nwZXgMu9ovVfIYhu6mwX65GS2EzbiYh1STfbykm9z2741BKhiFc_bZh5xE8Nt0w2_1b90vIaLvkcnvDNtjt4S5WYFxc2uS4w1CfPrLHbqyFbKis4s/s640/blogger-image-2146082916.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div>BEASThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15428640137434521072noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8262607732952187608.post-64246556346420576962012-08-30T21:03:00.002+00:002012-08-30T21:10:09.487+00:00CLEANLINESS IS NEXT TO GOD AWEFULNESS<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
As Miss MJ prepared to launch the Infomaniac Personal Housekeeping Experience.<br />
The lovely Gruchenka invites you to imagine her gently carressing your sanded wood with her moistened mop or flitting about polishing your nic nacks and knobs.<br />
You have to admit gentle reader this new offering from the House of Infomaniac is practically selling itself<br />
<br />
***retires to lie down in a darkened room***BEASThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15428640137434521072noreply@blogger.com59tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8262607732952187608.post-87613750263617056092012-08-08T20:54:00.002+00:002012-08-08T20:54:41.083+00:00The Pelicans Brief(s)We all love a legal thriller . John Grisham's sales figures will attest to that . <br />
Well dear reader we are lucky enough to have one brewing on our very doorstep.<br />
<br />
Fellow Blogger Miss Scarlet has been having a ghastly time with a recent property deal gone bad , which I am sure she will be blogging about shortly .<br />
During all this fuss and bother Miss Scarlet finally stamped a dainty foot and vowed 'to go legal' .<br />
Great legal minds were engaged ......<br />
Briefs were posted.....<br />
Apologies for sending underwear were mailed...<br />
Arguments were contructed....<br />
Legal precedents were researched<br />
Paralegals scampered<br />
Wigs were straightened<br />
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Then Miss Scarlet got in a bit of a muddle<br />
Finally the crack legal team ....cracked.<br />
The upshot of all palaver is, writs are flying everywhere .<br />
Miss Scarlet is simultaniously <br />
Firstly Suing Mr C for a divorce on the grounds of unreasonable behaviour.<br />
<br />
An unremembered marraige has come as a bit of a shock to Mr C , this is probably becuase it never happened , but lets face it after a drunken night of cavorting at Cafe C and supping of the nectar from Mr C's magic shot bottle , anything however unlikely probably sounded like a good idea at the time .<br />
<br />
Mr C is contesting on grounds that 'What happens in Cafe C , stays in Cafe C' and has<strike> hastily faked</strike> produced a confession in Miss Scarlets own fair hand that he hopes will settle the matter<br />
<br />
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<br /></div>
Secondly Slapping a restraining order on Mr Frobisher for harrassment and lude displays in public.<br />
<br />
There will be no contesting this one if anyone on the jury has seen Mavis Boyle Live at Cafe C .<br />
<br />
Lastly Issued a stiffly worded Solicitors letter , berating our poor Beasty on the unsanitory state of his bed linen. to whit 'The Stinky Duvet'.<br />
Bloody cheek!<br />
<br />
How dear reader would John Grisham weave together the strands of this ridiculous story and how would he satisfactorily bring us to the climax that we so deserve !<br />
<br />
<br />
Heres hoping Miss Scarlet is now safe and sound and settled in her home , the whole ghastly business is behind her and she will be back blogging shortlyBEASThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15428640137434521072noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8262607732952187608.post-87347761315671272512012-07-18T20:21:00.004+00:002012-07-18T21:28:23.900+00:00OLD DOGS NEW TRICKSWhat has been happening in the World of Beast ? well settle down dear reader and I will tell you .<br />
<br />
Obviously with Weymouth a mere 8 miles from Dorchester being the venue for the sailing events , Olympic fever has the whole area in its grip . We have endured 2 years of traffic chaos while they dig up every damn road for miles around . We have a rubbish Olympic laser show on the seafront , more palm trees than you can shake a stick at and a multitude of international flags festooned across the entire area .<br />
Finally after all this fuss and nonsense the Olympic Torch arrived in Weymouth on its way to the opening ceremony at the London Olympic Stadium in a couple of weeks time.<br />
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On the evening the torch was due to rest in Weymouth overnight , Mr C was invited as guest of honour to the opening party for a new local hostelry. The champagne was flowing and Mr C remembers nothing from 10 pm till he woke up in his bed at 5 pm the next evening. With blinding hangover and trembling hands he opened his Facebook page to be confronted with this </div>
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WHAT WE KNOW </div>
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a.from the timing on the picture it was 5 am. </div>
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b. Mr C was completely wankered. </div>
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c. from the background it is Weymouth Beach. </div>
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WHAT WE DO NOT KNOW </div>
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a.how a drunken Mr C got to Weymouth and back again </div>
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b. got hold of the Torch. </div>
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c.How the organisers got it back (Which they must have done as it arrived in Bournemouth the following evening....or was it a spare ???)</div>
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Answers to any of these mysteries on a postcard please.</div>
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Mr C will be keeping a legendary low profile for fear of ending up in the Tower .</div>
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Moving swiftly on</div>
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Frobisher has finally killed off his Alter Ego Mavis Boyle and has restyled himself as a Gentleman Disc Jockey for Cafe C's celebrated Saturday Nights.</div>
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Frobishers evenings generally commence with a well mannered easy listening fest , the lighting is muted , the smoke machine is allowed a mere wisp.Frobisher is known to demand anyone having too much fun to be removed from the building and flogged by the burly doorstaff as an example to Broken Britain</div>
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This sedated scenario seldom lasts long as Mr C and his magic shot bottle get the better of our mannered master mixer . By midnight the cable knit cardie is hanging off the disco ball , the lasers are sizzling , the smoke is as thick as pea soup , a howling Frobisher is gyrating behind the decks grinding out what I believe the youth of today call "banging tunes"<br />
By 4 am as Mr C finally is forced to switch the power off , the doormen are instructed to drag a ruined Frobisher upstairs and dump him on his bed of shame<br />
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It is said that one should never look a gift horse in the mouth but they forgot to mention to keep your eyes on Mr C waving a bottle.......it always ends in wayward behaviour , partial nudity , bad language and a crippling hangover ...... just ask poor Miss Scarlet.</div>
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And what of Miss Scarlet I hear you ask . Rumours abound that she has been spotted dancing a wild fandango in the flesh pots of Budlieh Salterton</div>
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She denies it of course . ..but then one would wouldn't one!</div>
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but it has to be said that it looks suspiciously like Miss MJ and the infomaniac dancers making free with the net curtains in the background of this photo.</div>
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I will leave you dear reader to marshall the available facts and cast your vote where you will</div>
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TTFN ;-)</div>
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<br /></div>BEASThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15428640137434521072noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8262607732952187608.post-54753968950332388572012-06-21T18:29:00.000+00:002012-06-21T18:29:24.217+00:00A ROOM WITH A VIEWA story in ThePoke (an online rag) tickled my fancy and confirmed my belief in the good manners and chirpy optimism of the British Public .<br />
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It concerns a gentleman living in an apartment complex in Peckham , South London.He likes nothing better than settling down of an evening for a porn marathon on his 42" TV (Obviously an Infomaniac reader) .<br />
Sadly he does not close his curtains , this hardcore smut fest is clearly visible to 40 or so of the other residents.<br />
The residents ascociation are at a loss as to how to raise this issue without causing offence.<br />
One resident was reported as saying <br />
"luckily he does'nt leave the light on as the sight of him tugging away everynight could make cooking dinner in my kitchen almost impossible but I did notice him fast forwarding through a particularly brutal fisting scene so the man obviously isnt a complete animal" !<br />
<br />
In other news :<br />
With Summer finally upon us Miss Scarlet has informed me that she is expecting everyones full support in her quest for a prize at The Bridport Country Fair .<br />
She is entering what she describes as a 'truly hilarious Parsnip' in the Obscene Vegetables Competition and has been training hard for the How Many Vegetables can you stuff down your Pantyhose Event.<br />
A note of caution dear reader . Simmering rivalries and root vegetables can be an explosive mix and Of course it will all end in tears and possibly a fight if Mr Frobisher kicks off .<br />
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Lastly Mr C has recently been recieving death threats, this is only newsworthy as for once they are not from me !BEASThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15428640137434521072noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8262607732952187608.post-68269695489809686402012-01-08T21:17:00.000+00:002012-01-08T21:17:20.229+00:00A RARE SIGHTING ????<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuHEraGRnLgoaZvhgLY4c1DRmGgobGaYyI4l1Xpe7bk_xrYDlzYP16J-G7ZC88PSN7taP6up3I_zzP1MTB-M86jgh1gBbpQ-6YMa1sYzVCqWLEHxcruMkxEqO0DTfsVctHF5At6Fww6_g/s1600/MJ.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" rea="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuHEraGRnLgoaZvhgLY4c1DRmGgobGaYyI4l1Xpe7bk_xrYDlzYP16J-G7ZC88PSN7taP6up3I_zzP1MTB-M86jgh1gBbpQ-6YMa1sYzVCqWLEHxcruMkxEqO0DTfsVctHF5At6Fww6_g/s1600/MJ.jpg" /></a></div>Greetings dear reader , I will leave you to decide wether this is a genuine photo of reclusive canadian blogging floozy Miss MJ .<br />
Remember my lovelies The Truth is Out There!BEASThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15428640137434521072noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8262607732952187608.post-13944603668094917652011-12-19T08:33:00.000+00:002011-12-19T08:33:45.623+00:00MERRY XMAS<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDmEdiSb46lPJph48lZdk0TFbJJgMFWg77YiAUgHABJnVzdqgU3k261jK2Ce5Q4n0Fkv_akYFd6Oj3Lh68gOwV6zpvJgr0Aytu1X8UjSvOsMKfYwAMnnok_LR8-s5SLDyS7DQ2Ed-WM48/s1600/mingers.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="167" oda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDmEdiSb46lPJph48lZdk0TFbJJgMFWg77YiAUgHABJnVzdqgU3k261jK2Ce5Q4n0Fkv_akYFd6Oj3Lh68gOwV6zpvJgr0Aytu1X8UjSvOsMKfYwAMnnok_LR8-s5SLDyS7DQ2Ed-WM48/s320/mingers.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>BEASThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15428640137434521072noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8262607732952187608.post-60206965959467430132011-09-26T20:01:00.000+00:002011-09-26T20:01:15.344+00:00GOOD MANNERS COST NOTHING<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM6VrEJtXG00nkp7pplWx8z1V6N1vD0q92Zfzb5eNcNzp3mT3mGXQmflSqjC-qeMI25TXVCP6wpQxbJBvOZ9rYlZpia8S-uYkHfUxIsSzbacBhDUBSga13pc-A1OLRu-oQfQgEGc60_Og/s1600/Cword.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" kca="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM6VrEJtXG00nkp7pplWx8z1V6N1vD0q92Zfzb5eNcNzp3mT3mGXQmflSqjC-qeMI25TXVCP6wpQxbJBvOZ9rYlZpia8S-uYkHfUxIsSzbacBhDUBSga13pc-A1OLRu-oQfQgEGc60_Og/s320/Cword.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>BEASThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15428640137434521072noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8262607732952187608.post-37327952177591751482011-08-08T20:15:00.003+00:002011-08-10T07:49:59.423+00:00WHATEVER HAPPENED TO BABY SCARLET .....THE AWEFUL TRUTHTo make some sense of this terrible tale , we have to start at the very begining and delve into the psych of a damaged woman .<br />
Born Scarlet Blue Vantitty to a migrant farming family in Darkest Devon .The beautiful young Miss Scarlet soon showed her star quality , tap dancing , singing and juggling cowpats at Devon County fairs.<br />
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After a short few years of fame her star began to fade when television was finally introduced to Devon in 2010 .<br />
A star struck Miss Scarlet then embarked an an increasingly desperate quest for celebrity and adoration in the far flung reaches of Dorset .<br />
Her crtically acclaimed ventriloquist act failed to bring in the punters and was soon forced to close<br />
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Following this disapiontment Scarlet tried a comedy double act with Canadian Exotic Dancer Miss MJ. Called Tits n Teeth . All went well for a while, but after 6 months of an English diet Miss MJ's flatulence and a carlessly discarded cigarette caused an incident on Weston Supermare Pier and the show was closed on Health and Saftey grounds (oh and the minor fact that the Pier and Theatre burnt down)<br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">An increasingly desperate Miss Scarlet finally agreed to a disasterous gig supporting Frobisher , as Mavis Boils glamourous assistant for the Knobs and Knockers comeback tour .</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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Altho this last ditch attempt at stardom had failed , and Miss Scarlet vowed never to speak to the ghastly Mavis again , she had found a place(The Fabulous Cafe C) where she would be given a warm welcome and treated as a star.<br />
Miss Scarlet was always personally greeted by proprietor Mr C and whisked with great ceremony to the VIP area , where she would be plied with Champagne and Cocktails .<br />
It was in the early hours of such an evening that Miss Scarlets tale begins<br />
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<a href="http://scarlet-blue.blogspot.com/2011/08/shriek.html">http://scarlet-blue.blogspot.com/2011/08/shriek.html</a><br />
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</div><div style="text-align: left;">Following these terrible events . Miss Scarlet was banned for life from Cafe C by an enraged Mr C . His cherished Golden Pussy smashed to a million pieces and not to mention that his long suffering kitchen bitch was mullered and horror of horrors he may have to do the washing up himself.</div><div style="text-align: left;">The heavy burden of guilt and over consumption of hobnobbs finally took its toll as a frankly deranged Miss Scarlet , wheeled a fading Beast to Lyme Regis beach and our final sorry scene plays itself out</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
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Beast sensing the end was near , finally, sensationally spilled the beans on the true events of that disastorous evening . <br />
On the fateful night Miss Scarlet had imbibed a little too freely from the magic shot bottle that Mr C was brandishing with his usual abandon .Eventually as dawn broke Beast was ordered to stop malingering at his sink and drive a 'tired and emotional' Miss Scarlet to her sumptuos manor house (obviouslyCow pat juggling can be VERY profitable....who knew!).<br />
Miss Scarlet in her addled state thought it highly amusing to kidnap one of Mr C's golden pussies and imperiously insisted Beasty complied .<br />
On arrival at Vantitty Manor it was Mr BEASTY that was driving......it was Mr BEASTY that dropped and shattered the Golden Pussy and it was Mr BEASTY that sustained a rather pathetic sprained wrist by tripping over one of Miss Scarlets Gnome collection and landing in an ungainly heap in front of the car.<br />
It was at this point a dazed Miss Scarlet came round and rationalised her ridiculous fantasy from the remnants of her drink addled memory , super glued a concussed Beast to a wheelchair and so doomed herself to a downward spiral of festering guilt , thwarted ambition , Dandelion and burdock abuse and brings us finally to this sorry spectacle on the beach.<br />
following these fateful revalations a shocked Miss Scarlet reels back , bosom heaving and eyes spinning as the final horror of the years wasted on misplaced guilt and social death , and collapses sobbing to the sand . <br />
Beast croaks a final 'Think well of me Miss Scarlet and make sure the love mitten goes to a good home' and quietly slips away .<br />
*****<br />
epilogue.<br />
As a babbling Miss Scarlet is gently led away by the attendant from the Infomaniac Home for the Permanently Bewildered for years of painful tap dance and mime therapy, No one notices a supposedly expired Beast leap up from the sand and sprint for the number 57 bus departing for Bridport and all points west .<br />
Two weeks later as the whole sordid story hits the press (The Dorset Echo) a furious Mr C is seen combing the local towns for signs of the duplicitious Beast , carrying a box containing 5,476 bits of shattered golden pussy and a large tube of super glue. He has vowed to hunt Beast down and make him stick every damn piece of the beloved feline into its correct and propper place. <br />
As the sun set over Swanage sewerage works , Mr C raises his head and howls at the rising moon . <br />
****<br />
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</div>BEASThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15428640137434521072noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8262607732952187608.post-37062478460716391552011-05-05T19:32:00.000+00:002011-05-05T19:32:01.100+00:00CLUEDOA hinous crime has been committed at The Beasts Lair .<br />
Remember this<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSSe7fQ9ml4Hzu9g1WneqsDsAZlYPTU2Hh898M9CqhuIscwjtA_M9N7LIXMlrJWzFXgQpX1vAPybruP6oRlYiuekdJ3sJZrHIsRMUuOm_cO399d8tjHKZi9a-vZbvNmQBnweSXxO2XQ2o/s1600/112.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="241px" j8="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSSe7fQ9ml4Hzu9g1WneqsDsAZlYPTU2Hh898M9CqhuIscwjtA_M9N7LIXMlrJWzFXgQpX1vAPybruP6oRlYiuekdJ3sJZrHIsRMUuOm_cO399d8tjHKZi9a-vZbvNmQBnweSXxO2XQ2o/s320/112.jpg" width="320px" /></a></div>The FGES were left, gently airing on the clothes line to remove the fecund aroma of colonials that even a boil wash and spirited scrubbing would not remove.<br />
I returned from a hard day at work , to be confronted with this<br />
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<br />
If I were a Cluedo playing man (Which I am not as its a tedious load of old knackers) I would be guessing at<br />
Miss Scarlet<br />
In the Garden<br />
With a clothes peg.<br />
<br />
The thieving baggage has had it away with the sainted shorts and fingered an innocent into the bargain.<br />
I blame the influence of Miss MJ !<br />
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</div>BEASThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15428640137434521072noreply@blogger.com53tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8262607732952187608.post-60943253358082706452011-04-26T20:04:00.000+00:002011-04-26T20:04:15.707+00:00CALAMITY AND CASTERNETSYou may be wondering what has kept our hero Beast away for so long.<br />
Work my friends and lashings of it , peppered with calamitous events that would try the patients of a saint.<br />
<br />
It all started when an exhausted Beast , just finishing cleaning the restaurant , kitchens , toilets and garden following a particularly drunken party , judging by the sticky floors and array of disgarded clothing (peculiarly there was a singular , rather expensive stiletto shoe hanging from a bush in the garden which has yet to be claimed). Suddenly the Beasts mobile telophonic device pinged urgently . It was Mr C ringing from his penthouse master suite , ordering Beast to feed his assortment of paraqueets and chickens in the outside aviary. Sadly during this delicate operation the Beast failed to secure the door correctly and the feathered fiends escaped.<br />
There ensued terrible harangue number one.<br />
The Beast was then instructed to move Mr C's beloved Golden Pussy to its correct position guarding the exit to the lavs. During this procedure the whole fecking front leg fell off.<br />
There ensued terrible harangue number two .Accusations of senility , ham fisted blundering and pure unadultorated idiocy where mentioned .<br />
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The following weekend the Beast turned up on the Friday evening to be informed I needed to compile a menu for an authentic luxury spanish Tapas Buffet for 40 people the next night , and following my performance last week it had better be good.<br />
On enquiring as to what the Cafe C professional chef had come up with , I was told he had firstly had an asthma attack , followed by an attack of the vapours and then sobbed pitifully . Mr C had taken an executive decision that it was The Beasts problem and sauntered off for a celebratory drink (with adoring entourage).<br />
On Mr C's unsteady return , I stomped downstairs brandishing my impromptu menu for perusal and approval of a somewhat boisterous and cantankerous Mr C . It didnt start well when Mr C shouted 'Oh god I feel a NO FUN ZONE approaching as he downed another shot and wobbled alarmingly on his bar stool. <br />
It is at this point I would like to offer a bit of advice . <br />
Do Not, under any circumstances try to explain your Tapas Menu to a group of pissed people.<br />
The sniggering was bad enough when we got to the succulent pork balls but was nothing to the general guffawing and catcalls that ensued with the classic Sausage In Cider (Just say it out loud) .This was when I gave up and retired to my kitchen , muttering dark oaths and cursing the day Mr C was expelled into this life .<br />
The next day went by in a maelstrom of post party clean up and kitchen bitchery . It was only when I had calmed a gibbering chef with encouraging words and pints of sweet tea , planned out the buffet preparation schedule and set the chef making a rice salad (The catering equivalent of basket weaving) , I popped up to check timings and stuff with Mr C . Only to be informed I had another buffet for twenty the next day (Sunday) .<br />
I hope your going to be up early ???? I ventured somewhat alarmed .<br />
Oh yes we will be up nice and early said Mr C and finished off with something muttered .<br />
Being a veteran of conversations with Mr C , I realise the muttered ending was by far the more important part of the sentence and demanded to know what it was . After much weedling and shouting I winkled it out of the devil.<br />
The muttered part was " becuase we are flying out to Barcelona at 7 am"<br />
Fuck Fuck Fuck FUCK ....... a buffet to get through tonight with a chef on the edge of a nervous breakdown<br />
Another buffet tomorrow after cleaning the whole place following tonights festivities , followed by a second clean up, and no doubt looking after the dogs for a week as well .<br />
****REPEATS FUCK CHORUS AND DOES A LITTLE DANCE****<br />
Mr C was only saved from a cataclysmic explosion by the arrival of that nights entertainment. The (geriatric) Flamenco Dancers.I am not sure wether the rattlings and clackings where casternets or their false teeth and joints . In the event Mr C had been handing out the free shots , so I dont think anyone much cared .<br />
Therefore my lovelys its been a busy few weeks<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="241px" i8="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-1Oajw0HScmNq_e3iUWOrIE7ZrSGU8W4cGyHtzAVkbELxxXEOh2OCGkwh_21e64EwHJA8iIlnzTLP0Oo1p8ZOlmqB9LfnsY92empesc9gDcpKnppOcM_eLvbP8SddLBFcGxiDX1gMtps/s320/110.jpg" width="320px" /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">WALKIES!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Oh and guess what arrived</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEw45qvSnezpRY6lw2ClKUk92Mn1v9sf-N8jrW1AHyfCYyw9LQ3hQBrGHmq4QFdqb42ckV33eDnbXYo5sJC6Gqn09pD6NgppbHcU3pvPf0T97LW2btmgLvwPf1HBjvfDe-LyKnyaU7HJY/s1600/113.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="241px" i8="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEw45qvSnezpRY6lw2ClKUk92Mn1v9sf-N8jrW1AHyfCYyw9LQ3hQBrGHmq4QFdqb42ckV33eDnbXYo5sJC6Gqn09pD6NgppbHcU3pvPf0T97LW2btmgLvwPf1HBjvfDe-LyKnyaU7HJY/s320/113.jpg" width="320px" /></a></div>Oh yes , ITS THE FGES . Hurrah !<br />
they have been disinfected and the gusset has been scrubbed . <br />
More of them anon <br />
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</div>BEASThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15428640137434521072noreply@blogger.com14