The Chuckle Diaries bring's you life behind the website, sometimes funny, sometimes sad always real.
Ouch! my head is a little delicate this morning but the worst pain is lower down (no not there)it's in my toe? It soon all comes flooding back, walking home from the local last night or should I say the early hours a drain jumped out of the ground and bit my toe.
Why is it these things only attack at night? and how do they know you have partaken in a little beverage therefore knowing your reactions will be a little slower?
Well I now have a mood stone toe it started as a lovely shade of purple soon to be joined by black and green patches, the pain is unreal it is a toe for god sake how can something that small hurt so much.
There is a plus side it has put a stop to any silly ideas of riding my
bike and I did manage to hobble up to my local as I needed some anesthetic, this
being in the form of brandy so not all is lost.
Wednesday and I find myself once again on the bike, what on earth is going on? I can see I am going to have to stab the tyres on it to stop temptation, although I think the pain in my posterior will put a stop to any more silly ideas of riding for a while.
By 11:30 I have done a cycle ride cleaned the house from top to bottom and filled in a job application, not bad going although I am knackered now and ready to go back to bed.
Radio in the afternoon and after several announcements where I sound as if I have the dogs teeth in, it is soon time to head home and up to our local where my singing debut awaits.
I am feeling quietly confident up until I am called then my legs and my stomach feel like they have been liquidised, The copious amounts of brandy I have poured down my throat since arriving now curdle and make me feel nauseous, in a flash it is over and it seems to have gone ok, there are even some people left in the pub, ok most of them have hearing aids or are so drunk they are unable to find the exit, and the landlord has even said I maybe allowed back in later in the year.
Tuesday and with the sun shining I decide a ride on the bike is in order, so with double gel seats attached off I go, wondering as the pain still seeps through if they do a foam seat pad, it would have to be memory foam though, as I do not want to get off the bike looking like I have next doors cat stuck in my arse.
I get back indoors with legs shaking and backside hurting only to have it dawn on me that today is the day I have to go jogging with my super fit neighbour the pain in my legs seems to double with this thought, but unlike the supermodels I do not have the money for liposuction or plastic surgery and a diet of just paper does nothing to float my boat, so after an afternoon talking Shark attacks in London see http://www.thechuckle.co.uk/shark-attack-in-london.php I head up to the neighbours and would you credit it she cancels!
Well I am inconsolable............. for at least 4 ½ seconds so I head home and to get over the upset I have a brandy and a bowl of ice cream, this eases the upset a little, well at least until I then realise I am suppose to be singing in my local tomorrow night, this thought leads to even more brandy and call for serious action? I pull out the multi pack of Mars bars.
Why oh why does my brain not connect with my mouth, last week my super fit neighbour goes jogging by the house as I am getting out of my car, she stops for a chat and before I know it I have agreed to go jogging with her next week (this with no alcohol in my system?)!
Well next week is tomorrow and I am wrecking my brain cell as to excuses I can use to get myself out of this mess my mouth has got me into, I have checked the kitchen cupboards for arsenic sadly none left after the last row with the husband.
I contemplated sawing my leg off but apart from the fact I can not get it up on the table to saw I have only butter knives (after another row with the husband all sharp objects were removed) a butter knife could take a few months and I only have 24 hours.
Perhaps I could call into my local hospital they are always good for a virus or three.
Sunday morning and after the bells (see last Sunday’s entry) it is another day on the guitar, my fingers now look as if they have been through a meat slicer but I do think I am getting the hang of this playing lark.
Maybe I should not wait around for Alan Sugar but send a demo off to Simon Cowell, there again what does he know about music.
My neighbour must still be having difficulties at home as he still seems a little grumpy. Today I have also spent a few hours adding some new comedian tour dates so check them out if you get 5 and get yourself off for a Chuckle.
Saturday morning and I am itching to play the guitar I have loaned so……. stool check, music check, tuner check, mug of coffee check, amp check there seems to be something missing?
oh yes guitar check and she is off, all I can say is I should have got an amp years ago it’s me times 10 and who wouldn't want that, my neighbour bangs the wall so he is obviously loving it, so I crank the amp up a little so he is able to get the full feel of the music, later in the day though I realise he must have had a row with his misses as he seems a little grumpy.
I then decide that this is defiantly the guitar for me and drive around every music and charity shop in the area looking for one but sadly no luck, I do however see a much larger amp and for just a moment I am tempted, but there are far more knobs on this one and I still have not worked out what the other 5 apart from the volume are for on the one I have loaned so I tell the man in the shop I’ll be back and just like Arnie I strut out, I may ask my neighbour if he knows anything about amps.
Crunchie day but before I can have any chocolate I have to finish creosoting the bloody shed, it’s baking hot so I slap on some chip fat and a pair of shorts, I do have a fleeting moments thought as to whether the neighbours are really ready for this amount of white cellulite and decide yes.
I finish the shed and then have the daunting trip to the extremely good guitarist house for my drunken arranged jamming session (it’s seemed such a good idea when I was drunk), they are a lovely couple and lead me through to their lounge where there is an array of beautiful guitars and the most ginormous amp I have ever seen, it fills the wall it is against and I think OMG someone warn the neighbours.
Luckily before they plug me in they check out my playing, almost immediately a blanket goes over the amp and the guitar is removed from my hands replaced with a cup of tea, and my new found friends advise that for my debut I may want to just sing and save the guitar playing for the future, and although they were to polite to say I think they meant around 2025.
I did however have the treat of listening to my friend play who’s playing is phenomenal, and he kindly loaned me a beautiful guitar and small amp I am now able to treat my neighbours to an even louder rendition of Kum Ba Yah, between the shorts and my amp I feel I am really spoiling them, someone crack open the ferrero rocher.
Thursday and once again I am feeling a little rough, I will have to have a word with the landlord at my local as I think the diet coke maybe off, I don’t think it is the brandy.
I drag my behind out of bed pour some Paracetamol and tea down my throat and wait until I can stand without feeling nauseous, as I sit sipping me tea I vaguely remember arranging to go to one of the extremely good guitar players house for a jamming session! the nausea washes over me again as it will be more noise pollution than jamming if I am playing, but with my début in our local drawing frighteningly near I know I need all the help I can get.
I check my emails and Alan Sugar still has not got back to me neither have the other 20 potential employers, I do however have some great interviews to pop up on the site, so you have something to read, as I need to go back to bed and see if I can rescue my last remaining brain cell.
Hump day and I am raring to go, by 11am I have sent off several job applications unfortunately Richard Branson still wants his job, I may ask Alan Sugar if he plans on retiring any time soon.
I take delivery of our humongous new shed and start the laborious task of creosoting it, the sun is shining and with the radio on I set to it, after a short time I realise I have more over me than the shed but carry on regardless.
A few hours later I start to feel my shoulders burning thank goodness it is the sun not a reaction to the creosote, so decide to call it a day, and head inside for a shower and some well earned food, after removing the blobs of creosote in the shower I notice that where they were I now have white patches and I ever so slightly resemble Mrs Blobby.
It is Wednesday and open mike night up our local, so I think I better do something to cover the spots up, so I ingeniously think I will fill in the dot’s or white marks so to speak with a little tanning lotion not thinking tanning lotion is brown and after my few hours in the sun I am more of a cerise colour, so I now look like I have the largest liver spots ever known, but nothing comes between this girl and her brandy, I just slap on a bit more self tan and although I look like an extra from Towie at least my teeth look whiter.
Tuesday and it’s new glasses day, so off to Newport in the stifling heat I go, now if you have never been to Newport all I will say is it is an experience.
It seems to be the countries meeting place for Big Issue sellers, I think at the last count I was up to 6 this is in around 300 yards, there were two drunk men outside Cash Converters arguing and threatening passers by with a plastic bottle of white lighting cider (terps for want of a better word) this is at 11am, just like the Olympics a representative from every country wearing tracksuits, although they do not quite have the physic of athletes, and the Primarni carrier bags would weigh them down in the hurdles.
And where in a guy’s head does he think “Oh Darlin want a bit of this” while gesticulating is going to make me think, wow look at that for a catch, overweight, sweating profusely, and dribbling ever so slightly I gave a polite no.
It got no better in the opticians as the poor young lad serving me said that the aircon had broken down, I told him it was not a problem, but as I sat there everything I was wearing started to cling to me, making me look like the oldest largest wet t-shirt entry ever, and having forced my new glasses on my nose, I was then able to see the total look of disgust on the young lads face, well at least the glasses work.
I spent most of Monday working on my damn CV again and while working I got to thinking about why I am getting increasingly angry, I thought it was a case of getting older but I now think I have the answer, technology.
Now before you start screaming at me about how wonderful it is to be able to instantly talk to someone over the other side of the world or be able to take videos on your mobile phone, while I agree I also think we now have more things that can go wrong leading to increasing frustration and anger.
For instance I have had to wait a week for my glasses to be prepared yet I can speak to someone on the other side of the world instantly, and although I can speak to someone on the other side of the world instantly they are unable to solve my network issue which after 15 phone calls to India I finally get through to someone in Cardiff, and after 4 days of morphing into Victor Meldrew I still have network issues.
Years ago you could walk to work or even god forbid cycle, now due to the locality of jobs and the non existent transport system in Wales (yes MP’S if your reading this you try and commute in Wales) there are two to three cars per household more technology to go wrong and you have people commuting from Cardiff to work in Newport and the people from Newport commuting to work in Cardiff (and they call this progress) this causes gridlock and more anger and this before we even get seated at our computers, which turn into Satan spawn the minute you need to get something done (like update Facebook).
Rant over and breathe.
Sunday morning, isn’t there a song about that? Someone grab my guitar, or maybe not as I would be drown out by the bells.
I live right opposite a church and for some reason only known by the crazy vicar that resides in said church, a while ago he decided to have a tape recording of the Westminster abbey church bells, not just a 5 minute rendition, oh no this recording is played at top volume so that the entire village can hear and for around an hour or so, the first time I heard it I thought how quaint, but after months of it and the fact the church clock strikes on the hour every hour day and night, now I am not so thrilled by it in fact I am starting to feel a little like Quasimodo.
But the bells are my signal to rush downstairs and start the curtain twitching vigil as what also comes with the bells are the church goers, now don’t get me wrong each to their own, but most of the people who go to our church are around the 102 age mark and look as if they learnt to drive in a horse and cart, when their attempt at reverse parking or driving into a space fails i.e they hit another car (including mine), they mount the curb, run over a Sunday morning jogger (ok we let them off for that one) or they realise after adjusting their glasses that the space is not big enough, they then just abandon their cars and trottle off into church it is as if they think well I did try and park it, our street looks like Armageddon until around and hour or so later you see them vacating the church and wandering off down the road having forgotten they even have a car.
After detoxing for two day’s (impressed aren’t you) I now feel better, so today I was going to go out on the bike but due to the thunderstorms that are predicted I decide instead to try and get a CV up on the website in the hope of getting some work.
It starts off well I find some free templates online and start the mammoth task of filling in all the relevant information all the while checking for grammar and spelling mistakes, after about 4 hours I read through one last time and think wow I would employ me, I was also thinking gosh even I did not know I could do that.
I click the next button and what message pops up? please bear in mind these are free templates, oh yes you're ahead of me, this site now wants money for me to be able to save or print this resume, this is where the profanities start, I read the small print whereby it states that they are only free if you do not wish to print or save, now please jump in at any point if you think I am a little OTT but why would anyone in their right mind just want to spend 4 hours of their life just filling in a CV that they cannot do anything with, I knew I should have taken my chances with the thunderstorm which I might add never happened.
Friday and I feel slightly more human today, although the hunger I am feeling it is as though my throat has been cut, so a trip out to Weatherspoons is in order, I know what your thinking classy girl, and yes you are right.
I nearly plump for double denim as this seems to be the outfit of choice for your girl around Weatherspoons but the twilight zone heat wave is still with us so I plump for something just as sophisticated but not as chaffing.
As I enter said Weatherspoons I am surrounded by what can only be described as flesh eating zombies all seem to be swaying back and forth with no real direction and ogling over anything with a pulse, it is only just midday and you can tell by some of these individuals that the pint they are slurping and dribbling down their chins is not the 1st of the day.
I take my jealous arse and park it at a table at the back, way out of the sunlight as just like Dracula due to the fact I’m still slightly off kilter from Wednesday night I feel as though the sun might turn me into a mound of smoldering ash, talking of which what shall I order.
After a night at the local I managed to crawl home at 2pm not a very cleaver thing on a School night, needless to say Thursday was cancelled due to the fact I was unable to function even the basic of tasks (like opening my eyes).
I am having another fat day and it is not yet 8:30 so I think another trip on the bike is in order, I hope your counting because at this rate I will have a body like Halle Berry by Christmas, ok you will have to look at me from 800 yards away to get the full effect.
I think I have a flat tyre but strangely when I get off the bike the tyre seems to be fine (bloody man-made objects never work properly), I now have a supper duper gel seat Ahhh, and bottle holder and I have tried the bandy and guess what? it fits so the exercise routine may increase from here on in.
In the afternoon I meet a friend for coffee and we double handedly sort out the entire worlds problems, why do governments make such a song and dance about this and require huge fees, two women, two coffee’s and it's sorted, ok some of our manifesto would be illegal but that law could soon be amended, especially as my friend is also a lawyer.
I head back home and prepare my radio show, I am also a volunteer radio presenter for my local hospital, music and comedy are my life blood and I love both in equal measure.
After the radio it is a Wednesday evening at the local, they have the most amazing musicians turn up for open mike night, some of which are badgering me to get up, now I think I explained in an earlier insert I have been learning for 10 years and although my ears have become accustom to my particular style of playing are others ready to have this inflicted on them, I personally think that they are in for a real treat in the next few weeks, well after all I do have a lawyer as a friend, so what could possibly go wrong.
Believe it on not the day starts with me trying to find my glasses to check what time my appointment for the opticians is, glasses found I head off to Newport for my 11:30 appointment, they start by driving a jet steam of air into each eye, what on earth is that all about?
not even the girl behind the monstrous machine could tell me, and is that size machine really needed? I know of a much smaller entity that is able to produce the same jet of air all be it one you wouldn't want in your eye.
I was then led upstairs, unable to take them on my own as I was temporally blinded by the air jets, and then led into a broom cupboard for the next set of tests, now I am not gay but the most beautiful girl I have ever seen walks in, perfect figure, hair, nails, obviously highly educated, she starts the next test, I think yeah she maybe beautiful but I bet she has got an awful personality (we know don’t we girls) but Oh No she is just lovely so lovely I want to scratch her eyes out if I could only see them, and I think as an optician she probably would know how to fix that, or fix me so I think better of it.
After even more tests Beauty who’s the Beast informs me I need vocational bifocals, “what are those” I hear you cry, well those are an extra £75 that’s what those are. Beauty who’s the Beast then informs me she has found something in the x-rays of my eyes, she shows me the images and all I can say is they look exactly like boobs including the nipples, well I say exactly they do in fact look far better than the pair I have, which are slightly lower down (ok a lot lower down).
She say’s she will inform the hospital and they will send for me, I leave the opticians a lot lighter in the purse and pondering over asking the hospital (when I get the appointment) if they will consider swapping the ones in my eyes for the ones on my chest.
While the parrot is flying back and forth or not as he is dead, another story hits the desk, that of the Alternative Comedy Experience which airs tonight on Comedy Central (or so I thought) I put myself into gear get the coffee cup filled with a liquid which can only be described as nectar from the gods, well after brandy it is, I put the page together while also taking care of Polly and get the pages online, I have some other articles to go up on the site so with head down arse up I set to it.
Once all the new material is up and live I go about tweeting or as Janice Dickinson would say Twatting I am busy putting up all the information on Social networks feeling a little smug at my ability to get everything done.
Later that evening I settle down to watch The Alternative Comedy Experience on Comedy Central, I was not overly disappointed to find Michael McIntyre live on the channel but as time ticked on I thought well where is it? It was at this point that a pop up on the screen said join us at 11pm tomorrow for The Alternative Comedy Experience and I realised I was a day ahead and all the social media posts were incorrect, all I can say is at least I wasn’t late and you all had a trial run at it.
SAT & SUN 12 - 13th JULY
Another weekend over and I can honestly say I am not even aware of it happening, Saturday is a total blank due to the fact that the 2 bottles of wine I drunk Friday evening must have been off.
Sunday was a little more productive as I tried the cycle again and the posterior is nowhere near as painful as the 1st time so it is a possibility I may do it again, but please if you are a betting person do not under any circumstances put money on that.
I also managed to move the dust around the house as even the Jehovah's witnesses were refusing to come in, and later in the afternoon I murdered a few tunes on the guitar, oh yes I have yet to mention I am learning the guitar and have been for 10 years, my neighbour now scowls at me in passing he is obviously not a music lover as I think my rendition of Paolo Nutini is amazing.
Something strange happened while I was playing guitar, most of my neighbours must have been cold as I heard all their windows slam shut, and someone shouted something about a cat being neutered I didn’t even know a vet lived nearby.
I managed to visit the new Primarny store in Queen Street Cardiff today and I must say I was impressed, nice large airy store plenty of staff some of which looked as if they had been grabbed straight from nursery and had the language skills to match.
I am sure one was still wearing a nappy, well something was dragging his trousers down the back of his legs. What I was not impressed with were the changing rooms well not the rooms per say they were nice, clean and plentiful, my main area of complaint are the mirrors which must be distorted because there is no way that I have put that much weight on, also the mirrors both of them had cellulite (they didn’t look old enough).
I managed to get enough clothes to fill a small skip and all for £19.99, half of which will probably sit in my already bulging wardrobe for the next 10 years never seeing the light of day until they make there final journey to the charity shop, where after a week or two I will probably purchase some of it back.
But as every girl (stretching it in my case) knows it is not about the wearing of the clothes it is about the hunting and gathering of the clothes where the true art lies.
Who said gardening is relaxing, after shifting what felt like mount Kilimanjaro I feel anything but relaxed, my back feels as if I have spent my life in a very low tunnel, and does it look any better does it hell.
What type of person buries every peace of crockery and glassware they have ever owned this along with bits of wire old gas pipes and several strange objects I would like a second opinion on but do not want to risk arrest, at one point I would not have been surprised if I had uncovered a Indian burial site, I think maybe Stig of the Dump may have owned my garden at one time.
I moved the ring of dirt from around my arms and legs to the bath and then headed off to visit a relative in hospital, after walking 4 miles taking two wrong turns, asking various wandering lost souls, I came to the conclusion it would have been easier to find lost tomb of Genghis Khan than ward B7.
I think they were trying to drum up clients because the ward for people with breathing difficulties is on the top floor with the sun beating (yes I am still in the UK) on the glass and by the time I got there I was finding it difficult to breath never mind the poor patients, and after fighting one for their oxygen mask I nearly volunteered to swap places with my relative, that was until I witnessed what they served up for evening meal, I remember reading somewhere that the NHS spent millions on nutritional experts and chefs to look at hospital food, I think they could have saved themselves a fortune and just got Wetherspoons in.
Well what a busy day, I did not know if I was coming, going or been, I have decided to take a job, at least until this site makes enough money to keep me in a custom I would like to get used to. So I visited our wonderful capital to meet with a well know recruitment company to see if I have anything that is now classed as transferable skills.
The lovely lady I meet with was not interested in my ability to make chocolate disappear, apparently there is not much call for that! So she made a list of my skills on the back of a business card and gave me a sympathetic smile that said don’t call us we’ll call you.
I decided as I was in the centre it would be courteous to pop into a few shops, I was too far away from Primarny and my poor blistered feet would only allow shops on the way back to the car park, I headed for another well know store, you know the one that sells designer handbags for £300 and state your getting a bargain? well after trying to squeeze into 6 medium sized tops and ending up looking like I had two arses one in the front, I realised they had sizing problems in this store and promptly left.
I paid the equivalent of a small mortgage in the car park and joined the road rage commute back home, my rage soon joined the height of the rest of the very hot commuters, why do pensioners have to go out in rush hour? they have all day to go out can we not put embargoes on them, or at least a cull once a month? you cannot even shout obscenities as most don’t even have their hearing aids turned on.
Why oh why does no one stop me when I get these urges? A little while ago I decided to get a push bike well it was more like several months ago I got it, it has been doubling up as a clotheshorse in the kitchen until today when after around 30 years I thought it would be a good idea to get fit by cycling.
The fleeting glimpse of the Yorkshire Tour De France is to blame for this ludicrous idea. Adorned in pedal pushers and a pack a mac (don’t ask) I then look to see where I can put the all essentials, drink, phone, keys, lipstick, and before you ask yes I do need the drink, this I quickly stuffed into the pack a mac pockets which dragged the corners of the mac down to the knees of the pedal pushers, I place a hollowed out tortoise shell on my head and this top’s the outfit off a treat.
I don’t remember having all those gears and two sets of brakes all those years ago, take heed do not use front brakes they are only there to give onlookers a laugh especially as my arse nearly cleared my head and the handlebars, I was a little shaky at first but soon got into the swing and started to really believe I had cracked this getting fit lark, I had even started dreaming of being able to eat my own body weight in junk and not worry as I could cycle it all off.
Well it is now several hours later and I am now unable to sit, my privates feel as though I have had a visit to a gynaecologist who's wife has divorced him and taken the lot, I need a child’s rubber ring just to visit the bathroom and have no idea how I am going to drive to my meeting tomorrow, I have hung the washing back on the bike as the site of it makes me wince.
Well that’s Monday over thank god! Why does Monday always have to follow Sunday? And whose idea was it to make it the start of a week. What have I achieved today let’s think! or rather let’s not think as I have achieved the grand total of 4,000 calories.
I felt so bad after eating my way into a larger dress size over the weekend I had to have some cake to soften the blow and as I then discovered the sell by date was up (all be it in 3 days) I thought I best eat the rest before it went off, knowing that even if it was off I would still eat it.
I have managed to get the site up the rankings in Google which given the fact you need Harry Potters wand crossed with 15 planets aligning to even move up 1 place from 24 millionth I class this as a huge achievement, so to celebrate I think I will have some cake, oh Sh** none left I will have to resort to taking the box out of the bin and sucking on the inside.
8am, the same bleary eye looks out onto the same blue digital clock, but having spent most of yesterday in a state of duress Oops I mean undress while loitering on the sofa with no intent well none except for the intent of pushing enough food down my throat in the hope of that being the new hangover cure.
Today I am going to do something so that the weekend is not totally wasted, so with as much will as I can muster I avoid eye contact with the dressing table mirror do the bathroom bit and fling open the curtains to greet the day………sodding raining, only one cure for that! no lets not go down that road again, I plod downstairs have a very healthy cereal with sweetener (aren't I good) washed down with a cup of tea.
Whilst taking a shower I notice that the Choctawhatchee is in need of a trim and hedge but not wanting a trip to A&E decide without glasses and the proper equipment i.e. safety goggles and a industrial hedge trimmer this job is best left for another day, so I tuck everything in and thank god it has not yet reached my socks and head out to see what the world has to offer on a Sunday.
With one rather bloodshot eye I peer out at the illuminated blue beside clock radio and wonder when my eyesight became so bad, I know if I put my glass on to see the time I might as well kiss goodbye to another 10 minutes, but as my bladder is already screaming 10 more minutes and you loose, I grapple for my glasses.
why oh why am I bloody awake at this ungodly hour (7:15 am) if I had to get up you would not be able to drag my ass out of bed if it was on fire, still onward and upward, before I make it to the bathroom I catch a glimpse of my half naked body in the dressing table mirror and this sets the mood for the rest of the day, and all this before I hear the pitta patter, no not of little feet I am to old (thank god) no the pitta patter of the bloody rain on the widow. Oh what joy another wet weekend.
While undertaking the bathroom necessities I contemplate another day of trying to avoid chocolate, I take a sideways glance at the bathroom scales and do a mental sum of the 3,000 calories I had between 9 and 10 last night and think better than to actually stand on them.
I start this day like every other full of good intentions, and make my way downstairs and apart from feeling overweight and old I don’t feel to bad, well not until I spot the two empty wine bottles, which seem to have a Uri Geller effect on my head, I am now old, fat and hungover and there is only one cure know to man........ yes you got it, a fry up.