Monday 20 February 2012

Beware - mushiness alert

(These are the flowers I received today from a daft but lovely friend, ta M, you nutter)

Back in 1980 I lived in a shared slum in Manchester (for about 2.8 seconds when I thought I wanted to do an HND in Business Studies at Salford Technical College, what was I thinking). Anyway my fellow slum-dwellers and I had a party. And although the party was a good one, my abiding memory is of the two useless gits (never identified) who threw up in the house. One vomited into the spin-dryer (only discovered when I went to use it several days later) and the other through the letter box – from the outside in (OK, that was quite impressive I suppose but still revolting). This experience of 30-odd years ago was one of many that made me come to the conclusion that quite a lot of people are, at best, utter, utter twonks.

Since my recent diagnosis I have had to revise this opinion. I have had so much niceness from so many people that I don’t know whether to blush, cry or do a lap of honour. Both my and the other-half’s families have been brilliant, friends rallied round and even friends of friends of friends offered their help and advice (some having had the misfortune to have experienced this crappy disease themselves). To everyone – thank you. Thank you for the cuddly cat, for the soup, for the chocolate bunnies, for the visits, for the meals, for the flowers, for the booze, for the emails, for the phone calls, for offers of lifts etc etc etc – in fact thank you for being such all round bricks. That’s bricks with a B.

Just in case you think I’m in danger of disappearing into a vat of mushiness let me assure you that, although I’ve been sincerely touched by everyone’s kindness, I still think the mystery vomiters of 1980 are a pair of arseholes. So I’m not entirely a fluffy bunny yet.

4 comments:

  1. iv been sick in some funny places but never in a spin drier must try it some time have you got one x x

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    1. Nope, no spin dryers for me any more. I'm all up-to-date now, want to borrow my mangle?

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  2. Hi Della, your post reminds me of the 2 years spent st Salford tec, doing my a levels (more interesting selection of young men compared to Stockport tec, having been discouraged from staying on at my convent school after o levels ( but that's another story and as usual I was much misunderstood by the nuns...) anyway happy memories of the pub opposite (what was it called? Last time I passed by it was boarded up) singing away to the night they drove old Dixie down and soldier blue. Those were the days

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    1. You? Not getting on with the nuns? I simply cannot imagine why :0)

      I can't remember the pub opposite the tec - we were posh and used to go drinking in Eccles.

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