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December 29, 2005
Alternative Christmas.
Anyone who asks me: 'have a good chrismas?', had better sublet their apartment or have an hour or two to spare for the (truthful) reply...............
Most families have a mantlepiece full of heartfelt salutations from loved ones.
Not the Letitcia family...ours was full of..... advice sheets from the local Accident and Emergency department of The Queen Elizabeth Hospital.
Do we have a death wish or are we accident PRONE??
Not really, though i would rather commit hara kiri than spend one second in the hell hole that is A&E.
Christmas eve morning, and the rude awakening of my mother shouting in a quavering, tremulous voice for me to come downstairs 'quickly'.
'What now' i thought.
The Norfolk constabulary had thoughtfully saved my brother from either danger to his well being or at the very least an expensive taxi fare home.
If you feel the latter is a handy ruse, then simply walk (stagger) in the middle of a main road and they will deliver you to your door.
Unfortunately, broth also had a nasty bump on his head ('might knock a bit of sense into him' as my mother would say)...and advised that it should be 'seen to'
I had this terrible urge to ask the dayglo mr plod, whether he could take my dickhead brother BACK into town....but thought better of it.
A quick phonecall to my Brother-in-law, and at 8.30am it was all systems go, and all of our respective Pre Christmas arrangements were thrown into disarray.
A while later i realised there was something dreadfully wrong with my eye(s)----and whatever it was would not desist, so i took the 'local yokel stagecoach' into the metropolis to see if i could get it fixed.
2Hours after the other two members of my family had lain siege to Casualty, i shuffled into THE WRONG SECTION of the hospital.
Obviously my sight was so impaired, i couldn't correct the country bumpkin cabbie (who kept bloomin' asking me 'you havin' a good Christmas?')who deposited me at some entrance with a wave and point of his his hand.
'I can't SEE' i whined for emphasis.
Finally, i got to registration, and thank christ she didn't just say: 'take a seat and fill in this form'...otherwise i would have written the legend: 'i cannot ****ing well SEE' on A5 paper and strapped it to my chest.
'Surname' she asked.
Now my surname is pretty rare, so when i told her, there was a slight hesitation.
'No' i pre-empted 'that was my brother a while a go'
With the form finally completed, it was phase two of: 'HOW CAN I CONVEY TO THE STOIC, SEEN IT ALL BEFORE, DISPASSIONATE STAFF----THAT I AM THE ONLY PERSON OF THE 50 SOULS WAITING WHO SHOULD BE FAST TRACKED TO SEE A DOCTOR IMMEDIATELY.
I convinced her that acid, or something of a phospherous like corrosive agent was burning my cornea/retina and that the future of my eyesight depended on expedience.
I only waited 45 min, as opposed to the 3 hour projected time wait.
I know police do the 'good cop---bad cop' routine, but this was 'good, soothing bedside manner to the Butcher from Rajastan'
Informing me that i had a badly torn cornea in both eyes, he yanked my head back like a horse doctor, cruelly jammed some shit that made it sting 10 times as much, bandaged me up like the children in need mascot and dispatched me on my less than merry way with:'go to sleep and rest your eyes'
Ha! Fat chance.....and ALSO by chance, my in law was at that very moment searching for me in casualty.
Back home, my Mother was STILL determined to enjoy CHRISTMAS.
As a dutiful daughter, i offered to help her wrap her presents....and was gently chastised for not putting the sellotape in the correct place.
ILLNESS IS NOT ALLOWED AT CRIMBLE TIME.
After another 2 days of painful pergatory.....i came back to Brighton on the same unheated, grossly filth laden and smell ridden form of transport.... which calls itself a train.
When i finally alighted at Brighton station, i eavesdropped on a mobile phone conversation a young bloke was having with his mates.
'YEAH...I 'AD TO GET OUTTA THE 'OUSE...IT WUZ DOIN' MY NUT IN' he said.
Only 2 hours ago, it seems we had a 100% hit rate for illness in our home. The ambulance was called for Mum....though she is ok at the moment.
Crikey, this little Norfolk dumpling of a village hasn't had so much fodder for idle gossip (squad cars,paramedics and sighting of the Letitcia Black sheep) since the head teacher ran off with the dinner lady!!!!
Cannot wait for next year.
Posted by Letitcia at 11:15 PM | Comments (0)
December 21, 2005
Season to be jolly
There has been a rather splendiferous lamp winking at me to BUY BUY BUY, in (of all places) the home of chinz and all things frilly: LAURA ASHLEY.
I gave in to illumination desire and strode forth into a bad tempered bint.
I had been circling my prey (the lamp) for weeks----it was displayed in the window, and there was 'up to' %30 off all furnishings....and us ladies LOVE a bargain, so that we can justify spending yet more money on things we don't just need but WANT, in the most acquisative way.
On further inspection, i could not find the item downstairs in the soft furnishings section.
Finding a 'sales assistant' to assist is a nightmare at the best of times, but this problem was magnified by the fact that it was Chrismas time, and the staff seemed to have been made up of gormless gels, and frosty harridans.
I chanced my arm with the 'gel' one day and got the standard 'i don't know what the hell you are talking about...please go away...this is too hard and not in the straightforward category'
.
'I'll come back' i cooed
Several days later i saw the lamp was not in the window.
'Ah ha' i thought......maybe it's on sale.
It was the harridan's time to shine her odure upon me.
I walked, nay, sprinted to where i could see the object of my many fruitless visits. And Jesus loves me yes he does....it was on a table where everything was reduced.
'I wish to purchase this lamp' i informed Ms Harridan.
'Furnishings are downstairs' was her curt reply.
'I have been looking downstairs for weeks and there are not any there'
'there are' she snapped....and thus tutting with an air of exasperation at having to actually SERVE a potential customer, she turned on her heel and ordered me to follow her into the wicked witch's dungeon.
I followed with a leaden heart and the feeling that i had been smacked on the back of my legs with her frosty tongue
I should have turned back since i somehow knew how ugly this was going to be.
'THERE'S THE LAMP AND THERE'S THE SHADE' she said glowering with an 'i told you so' air.
'Could you please tell me if it is either on sale or at what percentage it has been reduced to' i patiently enquired.
'The sale finished last week' she crowed.
Now it was MY turn to be exasperated.
But it wasn't HERE when the sale was on, and you would not let me have the one in the window.
'Do you want it or not?' she asked
I should have headbutted her and stamped on her stupid ill mannered prone body.
'Yes' i said meekly.......resigned to my fate: being civil to a spectaculary rude woman.
I trudged back up the stairs, feeling like an utter fool.
'Don't ring it through the till yet----i don't have enough cash on me.....you will have to keep it for me' i informed brittle Miseryguts
'When will you come in for it' she equired with a rising sense of impatience
I informed her that it would be Monday ( a mere day and a half away)
'Oh we can't keep it for that long' she trilled 'are you coming back today or tomorrow.
I knew both days were pretty impossible, but i gave her my details anyway.
I left with the feeling that i had been 'slimed' like the characters in the 'ghostbuster's' movie.
What a miserable old lump of doggy poo she was!!!!!
I am so heartily sick of being made to feel like i am being a nuisance---when all i want is service.
It is a relentless siege.
I passed an equally miserable looking beggar/big issue seller further up the road.
'Spare some change please' he grovelled in a mega pathetic croak.
'folding only pal' i replied....AND CARRIED ON WALKING.
Good will toward your fellow man? PAH!!!!
Posted by Letitcia at 01:37 PM | Comments (1)
December 14, 2005
wake me up before you go go
George Micheal has been quoted as saying:......well, something very similar to what i wrote in the chapter: 'Charity Chuffs'
'WHAT YOU REALLY PAY AN ESCORT FOR IS TO LEAVE AFTER SEX' was his response (excuse) for/to paying rent boys while in a 'commited' relationship
I wrote:'WHEN A MAN PAYS FOR A PROFESSIONAL,.......THE DOSH IS ACTUALLY 'FUCK OFF' MONEY. IT REVIEVES THEM NOT ONLY OF A WEIGHTY MATTER IN THEIR TESTICLES, BUT THE GUILT INHERENT IN GETTING RID OF THE WOMAN THAT HAS JUST PERFORMED IT'
Harsh words?
Nope, they (the words) are right on the money.
We all know about the 'Hyenna Syndrome'..where you would willingly gnaw the arm off the person that offered an orifice only several hours previous.
That's what prostitution IS.
I once said to a lovely young patron: 'but you have travelled so far to see me'
'Of course' he responded 'you are a sure bet'
So, for your money, you are given:.................
Discretion....ie you are not (or shouldn't) end up in 'News of the Screws' with those bottle blonde (mentality) babe bints, who have bedded an equally moronic Actor/sportsman/M.P
Cleanliness: Working ladies are more aware and there- fore (even if they don't really need to) go for the speculum up the jaxxy treatment..to ensure everything is A -Okay in the 'map of Tasmania'
An environment: where you do not need an excuse. We are busy ladies, so you will need to ship out before our next mini love affair.....which will be a great relief to you...since you need to get home to the missus.
Yes, buying a sex worker is where it's at.
BUT THEN I WOULD SAY THAT WOULDN'T I?
Posted by Letitcia at 11:13 PM | Comments (0)
December 12, 2005
Twisted Ankle and Twisted minds
I should never had ventured to the badlands of Central Brighton, 2 weeks before Christmas
The feeding frenzy had began in earnest.......
I always find myself people dodging...rather than the reverse, in fact i think i may experiment and walk in a straight line to see if they get the hell out of my space some time.
A triple baby buggy driven by a sink estate 'breeder' forced me off the narrow pavement....i missed my footing and down i indelicately went.
I was rendered immobile by a twisted ankle and did a spiffing impersonation of the Karate Kid trying to execute 'the crane'
A few fey and insincere people ventured to proffer assistance.
'You okay' they asked with fake concern...but they just kept on walking.
I tried to walk it off with limited or no success
By the time i staggered/limped up the staircase of Chez Letitcia...i knew i was in big trouble.
The mounting pain climbed to the zenith of 'shall i just drink the pain away or cart myself to casualty'
Rejecting the second non -option, i set about cancelling my prebooked appointments.
They were pretty good about it, considering that some had travelled by plane, rail and taxi from far flung destinations to be Body Worshipped in Brighton.
There is however, always one...and as the crescendo of agony climbed, and despite my explanation, a prebooked customer's voice told me:---------'YEAH BUT YOU CAN STILL SUCK CAN'T YOU?'
Welcome to goodwill toward your fellow service provider. Relegated to an it and a thing with no feelings, and judged as worthy of no regard.
I found the lack of care and compassion almost more painful than the injury itself. Is that what an engorged tool does to a man???
The fact is, the sooner a cyber sex doll, meeting inividual specifications is developed.....the better.
I recognise that even the patrons who, on the superficial surface, seem to be sweet and kind, can turn like a black snake if the moll cannot deliver.
In a punter's world, there is no room for human error,...... never get sick,..... never have an emergency......
After all, we are a sub species, and as if to prove the point i am up to speed within 3 days.
No ordinary mortal could achieve that.
Posted by Letitcia at 05:29 PM | Comments (0)
December 05, 2005
Killing me softly
I meandered off the beat of my usual shopping haunts, and just for the hell of it entered the portals of a 'cheap as chips' emporium called Primark.
I quickly realised my mistake, hemmed in by humaniods who smelt of old soup, and vile unruly rugrats,----- i beat a hasty retreat.
As i approached the door, a clinically obese couple with 'Mini me' proportioned sprogs saw me.
Yes i was wearing Mink, a Phillip Treacy bespoke hat and Givenchy diamond earrings---doesn't everyone????
'Step aside Sharon, we've got fucking royalty coming through'
Yes, that was what Cro Magnon from the suburbs said to his less than delectable missus.
They follow a lamentable trend which has plagued me all my life.
The general public (in all countries) seem to not only THINK, but SAY things about me which are insulting, rude, or boorish,......and they make their comments loud enough for me to hear.
It's like i am some unspoken 'whipping boy' or a poultice which draws their hatred, and i am there for the dullard's delectation.
So, dear reader...let me take you on a daily journey, and i will allow you to hear MY thoughts as i go about my business. I am too ladylike to ever SAY them, but then, i am not an ignorant pig.
At the Newsagents: 'I do wish you would stop whispering in hushed conspritorial tones to your visiting brothers, cousins, aunts et al----(even though you normally speak great English)--- you lapse into your regional Urdu, Hindi, Swhahilli language---whenever i come to purchase a newspaper. Why don't you just say: 'She takes it in the mouth for cash''
To the Big Issue seller: 'No, i don't wish to purchase your 'last' copy'...you've been standing in various pitches in this city FOR YEARS and i've seen you with your boozy mates and heard you say (when you thought no one was listening) ------'up this street Dave...easy pickings, easy money'
It's your CHOICE so deal with it.'
To the MILLIONS of riders in their motorised electric buggies:
'You're not sodding disabled, you're just pigging LAZY!!!!!'
To the single mums with a 'Croyden face lift'
'If you drive that triple baby buggy into my ankles i'll have your governmental housing revoked. And don't look disapprovingly at ME because i don't get out of YOUR way quick enough---you're not driving a snow plough.'
To all of the unattractive, dirty, grey people who look as if they have been dragged up and pulled through a hedgrow: 'Don't bloody say 'look at the state of that' as you pass me by......do you OWN a mirror?????'
To all of the miserable sods on checkout at the Supermarket:
'If you don't like your life---CHANGE it. Don't push your misery onto me.'
To the new age, liberal parents who allow their little darlings tostrong> squeal and create mayhem in the very restaurants and coffee shops where i try to get a bit of> peace:----'does this look like a bleedin' playground to you...and don't look at me as if to say 'ah aren't they cute'..they are not...they are monsters who must be destroyed, unless you put them on a leash'
And finally, to the woman, who only a few hours ago vented her spleenstrong> (she was practically frothing at the mouth) by strong>saying: 'You silly fat woman wearing that animal around your neck': 'Yes madam and you are ugly--but i can lose the pounds and the animal
I feel strangely better for that.
Posted by Letitcia at 06:40 PM | Comments (0)