Gone with the Wind

All of our neighbours are friendly and would do anything for anyone...except one couple, E & G, who have alienated themselves on many occasions with ourselves and others on the block. E likes to sit on the front lawn wearing her yellow flowered print dress which she arranges in a complete circle around herself. She talks on her mobile phone, she enjoys flicking her hair back as she laughs loudly (like an extra from Gone with the Wind) She thinks that she is the most beautiful thing on the planet.

Husband G likes to dye his hair and excercises, he also likes the rest of us to know that he does, by keeping his home gym in the garage and leaving the up and over door open for everyone to see him and his manliness. He likes to sing songs loudly e.g. (Don`t it make your brown eyes blue), while in the kitchen. G also likes neighbours to hear what he has to say on his mobile phone, so he conducts his "high powered" insurance man speak in the garden whenever possible.

They now own a very grand, hollywood style rabbit hutch. They are in their fifties and have no children at home.

Three weeks ago they had dark bumpy style paving stones placed, by contractors, to cover all of their back garden. The workmen were called back after a week of torrential rain. One might assume the work to be faulty, paving stones lifting etc, but no.... E & G have decided that the wrong colour stones have been put down. Methinks that it would take a little less that three weeks to discover this. There are light pink and sandstone arrangements in place now, with some buckets, bags of sand, spades and bollards which have been stacked up against their back door. E was remonstating with the workmen "I am not a happy bunny, and my rabbit has been stressed!"....."If I fall on this path I could sue your boss!!!" I couldn`t help thinking that paving stones are not exactly rabbit friendly, so it`s debateable which will stress the creature more.

E was hosting a girly party at home and could be heard redirecting various women to "Just go around the front." When one of the women stepped into the garden from the kitchen, E could be heard encouraging the rabbit in a squeaky voice "Come on then, say Hello to C" ........C obliges...
"Oooooh aren`t you a lovely colour?"
Well I do declare...........What was I saying about Gone with the Wind?

Do it Yourself

We go to B & Q, D needs some bolts, he asks me to go with him, I agree if he promises that he will seek out the bolts, then leave. When we get there, he star

ts to look at hose attachments, monopolises a young assistant for 15 minutes describing how he wants two connections...blah...blah...blah. When the yo

ung man takes his leave I state that I am bored stiff. D reminds me that he had to trawl around graveyards while on holiday. Up and down the aisles, internal doors, drills, cork mats and various galvanised items later, I begin to hum Olivers Army....and I would rather be anywhere else than here today. Meanwhile, D is just about having an orgasm as we pass the hedge trimmers, alternatively, I would rather be boiled in oil or poked in the eye with a big stick.

The car radio is on as we travel on to town, an item on how Harry will not be allowed to go to war in Iraq. The Muslims say they won`t kill him, just cut off his ears. D comments "They should send Charles then, his ears could do with a bit of a trim."

After a little retail thereapy, we go to Laboca, it`s packed, B is serving and running around like a blue arsed fly. We order cheese toasties, coffee and a diet coke (The coke for D) D drinks his coke off in one, then asks B for another "Bugger off, I`m busy." then he brings the drink immediately, laughing as he does so.

We move on, passing Greys monument, the usual complainers are out in force.... and the Christians, the happy clappers. The Army has a recruitment stand and as they try to entice the disaffected youth of the city, an old dear, around 70ish is busily skittering around in front of the soldiers giving out leaflets Troops out of Iraq Don`t Attack Iran. She glares at the lads while sucking her teeth in a very aggitated fashion, the boys in berets are oblivious, flexing their muscles looking hard.

Coming out of TJ Hughes, one of the bars on the corner of the Bigg Market is packed to the rafters, there`s a football match on widescreen t.v. Four Scottish persons look in on the drinkers, one of them a scrawny looking individual, Mohican peroxide blonde haircut with brown roots, who looks pissed already at 2.00 in the afternoon, shouts out in a broad Scottish twang "That`s a faggots bar." Two Geordies laugh at him nudging eachother, obviously don`t think he`s any challenge. What he will find out if he talks like that in the evening in the Bigg Market, is that even the so called "Faggots" can pack a punch in this town. Life is hard, and I dare say he will have learned his lesson by now. Hold on a minute...till I fetch a leaflet from the army... there`s a nice young Scottish lad who wants to join up!!!!!