What a lovely day it is outside.. Just perfect for a glass of wine in the garden… Wouldn’t it be nice to just do that this evening – sit in my garden with a glass (certainly, not much more than a glass) of decent wine – none of that cheap, nasty Sainsbury’s stuff. I think I’ll pop into Waitrose or John Lewis later on, and get some decent wine. Probably a Merlot, or a Sauvignon Blanc to go with my dinner. Speaking of dinner, I wonder what to have tonight…. As I don’t know what the son’s doing, I might just have to cook for myself. Oh well, at least I can make myself a nice salad with nothing nasty, or full of fat like what she had for lunch. I couldn’t stand the sight of it. I actually smelt pungent, and I ended up having to open the windows for fresh air. Not without first telling her it reeked, though. Why should I have to put up with other people’s nauseating eating habits? Why anyone would want to have such a fatty bacon sandwich in the first place is beyond me. But then again, you know what these folks are like. They can’t cultivate simple eating habits, and that’s why they have all these problems. You know what I mean – that’s why I never gave my kids Ribena growing up. How dare she even mention her affiliation with the bloody stuff? What makes her think I’ll approve? It’s nasty, and full of sugar, and I wouldn’t give it to my kids, not even if I had a gun to my head. I made sure they had fruit juices instead. That’s why one of them is brilliant. I made sure I breastfed, and fed her all the right stuff. Now, she’s doing me proud by not only learning a second language, but she achieved a 2:1 degree. She’s such a little high-flyer, my pumpkin. If only the other one would do as well. With him, it’s a constant struggle. I wonder why the fruit juices didn’t help him. The e-husband keeps blaming me for his problems, and puts it down to me not breastfeeding him as a child. Well, I think that’s bollocks, because how could I have, when I didn’t get any support from him? Men.. I’d advice everyone to give up on them, I tell you. They are all the same, and are all nothing but trouble.
They never grow up, and I’m not going to put up with any rubbish anymore. If only my son’s anger wasn’t so intimidating. I would say something, but I’m too scared to. I’m worried he might throw something at me, during one of his mood swings, and leave e there. I shudder at the thought. But it’s ok. I needn’t worry. I’m at work now, where I feel safe, and since I can’t show y son who’s boss, I can show these people aka who’s boss. It doesn’t matter that they are all qualified in their respective fields – some things just require life eperience to circumvent. Like the patient the other day, for instance. They were having a hycosy scan done, so I simply used my gumption and slotted the appointment in. It doesn’t matter that I don’t know what a hycosy means, or what it involves, (Google is a bit of a fraud, anyway) any odd fool can see that it’s a procedure that needs to be done by a radiologist. Yes, agreed, I don’t know what length of time to commit to the procedure, but worst case scenario, the entire list runs a little bit later. It’s all right though, because I can make up something clever to tell the patients and all will be well. It will be all right see, I do it all the time.
Of course they’ll never know I’m telling fibs. Well, look at me. Would you think I was telling you a lie? Of course not. Our sort don’t tell lies. Ok, we might tell little white ones here and there, but look at me. Honest eyes, hair of the right consistency and colour, honest skin, right age. Look at me. Not at her, or her, or her. Look at me. I understand you, and you understand me (because I speak clearly). I speak you language, with the right accent, and I’m completely against anything that’s not of us.
You know, us, the best, cream of the crop, top of the range, the best of the best. Us. We made this country (well, our fathers fathers fathers fathers did, but that’s irrelevant) what it is, and it’s such a shame it’s going to the dogs. Why do they all want to come here? Even the best of them is no match for us – we’re the best, make no mistake about that. I’ll teach you a simple trick: whwnever there is something negative in the media, purported by someone, just ask the newsbearer “What nationality are they?” Nine times out of 10, you’ll see that it’s one of them (save for the three recent events where some low-lives – probably hanging around with the like of them – decided to mess up). Put it this way, forget the fact that I never progressed past secondary school, and I have never created anything in my life (well, apart from children), I’m the best. Just look at my hair and eyes. Try
All this talk is starting to take its toll on me. I should watch some tv to rela. I hope there’s something decent on tonight. Oh, I remember the days of decent acting – not all the rubbish that’s on these days.. The likes of Judth Cornwell and Patricia Routledge, not the tomfoolery that they are always talking about. Half of them don’t even know who I’m talking about.
