Nelly Gets A New Boyfriend. In Her Dreams

I've just heard the thud of a big bass drum and was contemplating going upstairs and telling the resident who lives above the office to turn her bloody music down. I'm feeling crabbit as I didn't get enough sleep last night due to their shenanigans. But the thudding got louder and it turns out it's an effing band marching through Spidesville. Have I missed something here? Why is there a band marching through Spidesville on Easter Monday? Everybody knows that the Orange Lily won't bloom until June at the earliest and that now is Easter Lily time. Personally I blame the Parades Commission for mixing everything up.

Yesterday The Paramilitary Arms held a Karaoke night. Some of the little darlings were going and appeared in the office beforehand so that I could admire them in their finery. They'd all made a huge effort with their hair which, thanks to the wizardry of straighteners, hung long and poker straight. Some of them had even washed it. The big one was wearing white Yeti boots with three quarter length hipsters and a vest top from which her belly protruded large and pale. The sensible one wore clean jeans, a shirt and a touch of make up. The wee one wore a short baby pink Mac with mottled bare legs in knee boots. It was a strange look. She had clarried on so much slap she looked like she was suffering from radiation burns. I gave her a wee touch about that and she started on a huff. I reminded her that I hadn't done the cleaning rota yet and if she got stroppy with me I'd put her on cleaning the toilets. An instant mood improver that though I don't know why she'd worry as she never does any cleaning anyway.

I must have been asleep for an hour when I heard what sounded like a party taking place just under my bedroom window. I got up to investigate. I found that the revellers had just come in - well some of them were in - some were still partying out on the pavement. I brought the stragglers in and shouted a surly "Away to hell !" to the non-homeless standing about outside. Then they all started telling me about the great night they'd had.

"Hey Nelly! The police are after me."
"Well if they come in here to arrest you don't be getting me up. And make sure the doors are all locked up tight after you when they take you away."
"I took a swing at some doll! Pulled her down by the hair and put the fut in her."

(This fut would be encased in a huge hairy boot. Scary! )

"That's nothing to be proud of. What did she do to annoy you?"
"Give me cheek. And she was foreign."
"Huh! That's no reason to attack someone."
"Well. It was great crack anyway."

So with stern admonishments to behave themselves I stomped off back to bed only to get up again 30 minutes later as it sounded as if it had all kicked off again. Downstairs I found them all sitting like angels with wings. I returned to bed now so thoroughly rattled that I needed something, anything to help me sleep. I then had the bright idea that a bowl of muesli and some cheese would be just the thing. Bad idea! When I finally got to sleep I dreamed I was in London with my new boyfriend Paul. He was quite a looker with his brillo pad hair and a pitted face that looked like he was suffering from radiation burns. He was delicately built and about three inches shorter than me and that's small. We were walking through London Town with Ganching. She was striding ahead and we were tootling behind holding hands. We found ourselves outside the Tate Modern and Ganching says, "Are you coming in to see the new Rachel Whitereads?"
Paul made a petulant little face and for a moment I hesitated. Then I said to him, "Paul, I didn't come to London to get a new boyfriend y'know. I came to visit Ganching. Maybe we can meet up later?" He stomped off in a huff and I knew I'd never see him again. I felt relief. Ganching said "What. A. Prat."
I was so pleased when I woke up and realised I hadn't been unfaithful to Bert. Not even in my dreams.