Bliffo the Bare

On the left: Ms Britney Spears with clothes on which, given her recent form, makes a pleasant change.

I showed Bert some of the ruder pictures of Ms Spears that had emerged on the internet and he was utterly appalled.

"What is the world coming to," he fumed, "When women belittle themselves so by displaying their all and what they had for breakfast to any passing paparazzi? Where will it end? Truly these are the Last Days."

He was equally outraged when I showed him similarly immodest pictures of Ms Lindsay Lohan, Ms Paris Hilton and Mrs Katie Andre.

This Job I'm Doing

After seven years of working in homeless services I'm working in a day centre with learning disabled adults. That's the field where I began working, many years ago in Ballymoney, in my first job after leaving university. So I've completed the circle and am very happy to be back.

But... I need to brush up on the lingo. What is the correct term these days? Learning disabled? Mentally challenged? Not the full shilling? Ooops! Forget I said that last one.

Butter Wouldn't Melt In Her Mouth

Bonnie likes butter and she likes butter substitutes. I'm learning not to leave any on the kitchen surfaces. Learning the hard way that is. I forgot to put it all away this morning before I went to work and Bert was wakened once again by the sound of breaking glass and delpht. She ate half a pound of unsalted butter, a quarter tub of Golden Cow spread and half a cottage pie. She smashed a Pyrex dish, my cereal bowl (a particularly nice one) and a lovely old Devonware butter dish. All in all about 16 quids worth of crockery and foodstuffs.

Did I mention that we've decided to keep her? But you knew that was going to happen, didn't you?

The Perils Of Drink: Swisser Gets Dropped On Her Head

We went to visit the Wee Mannies last night. It’s been ages since I’d been there. Not since the Night of the Green Butter.

Jamie drove and played The Carpenters to us on the journey. This was to get us into the mood for the Wee Mannies are famed for their dubious taste in music. No Green Butter last night – just lots of lovely food and wine.

The Wee Mannies treated us to their holiday video. This was something of a cut above the usual holiday video. I begged for a copy so that I could put edited excerpts on youtube but permission was denied me. I could make the Wee Manny an internet cult figure in a matter of weeks if given the chance. But Mrs The Wee Manny is canny enough to know this and won’t allow it. So I’ll just have to invest in my own camera when I get some money. Then we’ll see.

The best bit of the video was when it was the Wee’s go. They were having an outing to a butterfly park. For the first five minutes he left the camera cap on. Then he was totally out of focus for the next five. Then he found the zoom and we were dizzy watching it rush in and out. Jamie asked, “Is this how you see the world, Wee?” There was no reply from the Wee’s corner where he was, as is traditional, verbally torturing Swisser. Back on the screen he finally managed to focus on the arses of two young Dutch girls up ahead of him and he follows them doggedly, all the while complaining that he wants to go to the pub.

Back to the present and he’s winding Swisser, trying to get her to come and sit on the sofa, accusing her of being an anti-social lesbian. She’s laughing it off and resisting. He tries moderate force. She resists harder. Suddenly he picks her up. Scary! Because he ain’t sober. But he’s doing fine. Then disaster! He’s on the home straight and down they go. Luckily Swisser lands (head first) on the sofa. Bert says Ploppy Pants tripped the Wee and Ploppy Pants says it was Jenny Wren tripped him. Mrs The Wee Manny says the Wee stumbled because that’s what he does when he’s full. Swisser is shaken and slightly hurt. She has a grazed ear.

I always thought that I’d be mixing with sensible people by the time I was 50.

The Wee Manny is an independently wealthy man of 55 who likes a drink. He buys his clothes in charity shops and works as a skilled labourer. He takes at least three holidays a year.

Swisser is a respected academic and an authority on the relationship between diet and health. She is published in reputable journals and attends up to six international conferences a year. She is 50. She is not a lesbian although she has been known to say that if she was it would make her life a lot easier.

Ploppy Pants is in his mid-fifties. He is a food-faddist and is currently on a special diet. He denies this. He is learning to play the banjo. He hates his job which often involves fixing my car. Bert swears he tripped the Wee Manny.

I wonder if I’d actually like sensible people? To tell you the truth I’m beginning to doubt their existence.

I'm Feeling Cooler

Thank goodness for Wikipedia.

Sam Duckworth – important facts. He is 20. He favours Jack rather than Vera.

Richard Hawley – important facts. He comes from Sheffield. He knows Jarvis. Obviously.

Gerard Way – important facts. His first stage role was Peter in Peter Pan. He has mean looking eyes.

Eugene Hutz – Important facts – He fronts Gogol Bordello (of which I’ve heard, if not actually heard) and, according to TSL, is a crazy man. She claims that any child or children fathered by Mr Hutz would be mental. BTW SL, up here in the North we prefer not to use derogatory terms like ‘mental’ – instead we’d say, ‘has psychiatric issues’. SL I’m sure your heart is set on Eugene but if anyone else wants a mental baby I recommend the sperm of Mr Michael Stone (as featured in today’s news.)

I will now take a short break to view John’s youtube recommendations.

*******************

After my short break.

Wowzie zowzie! I’m feeling at least 10% cooler than I did yesterday. Now that I’ve heard both Richard Hawley and Gogol Bordello.

Icons of Cool

Recently the Swearing Lady said she was experiencing a crisis of cool. So when I accidentally stumbled upon the NME Cool List 2006 I couldn’t resist giving myself a little test. Out of 50 icons of cool, as decided by NME readers, I found that I only recognised 14 names. And one of those was Keith Richard. Even then there was a few of those whose faces I couldn’t bring to mind. For instance if I were to come home some day and there was Bobby Gillespie sitting on the sofa I wouldn’t know him from Adam. But if we were introduced I’d be able to say, “Oh yes. I know you. You shifted Kate Moss and you’re in some band aren’t you? Name escapes me right now.”

And if I were to come home and there was Liam Gallagher sitting there chatting away to Bert I’d know who he was alright. Only thing is I’d probably get mixed up and call him Noel and then he’d throw a strop and break something.

Then if I were to return home and found Devendra Banhart was sitting cross legged on the coffee table, reeking of patchouli, I’d have to call Bert out into the kitchen and ask, “What’s with Mr Hairy Hippie then?” and he’d go, “That’s Devendra Banhart,” and I’d go “Oh yeah! We saw him on Jools didn’t we?”

Another New Job

I started my most recent post this morning. Despite giving myself 30 minutes to drive from Cullybackey to Ballymena I still managed to be five minutes late. Perhaps not the best of starts?

But...it feels right. The work is rewarding and the colleagues seem to be a friendly bunch. I met several old friends within minutes of being there. Maybe this is the one I've been waiting for...?

I got a call from the agency while I was there. Would I like to work the weekend in the local psychiatric hospital? Mmmm..let me think about that. Naw.

Pearlie Explains "I'm A Celebrity, Get Me Out Of Here"

D'ye watch that oul thing?

I don't make a point of it. If it's on I'll look at it.

It's no good. But I like to see them doing the trials. D'ye know if they don't pass the trials they get no meat?

Is that right?

Aye. D'ye see that oul fellow there? He's starvin' for the want o' meat. If he doesn't ate something soon I think he'll die. I don't know what took him on it anyway - at his age! The money I suppose.

Wish Me Luck

Agency work can be very varied. Last week I worked in a nursing home, yesterday I worked in a solicitor's office and this week I'm doing two sleepovers in an independent living unit.

Today I'm going for an interview in a quarry! Let's hope I'm rugged enough.

Natural Graft

Natural Graft, originally uploaded by NellyMoser.

When Katy met Bonnie

When Katy met Bonnie, originally uploaded by NellyMoser.

It has been ages since I posted a picture here. I like this one of Katy and Bonnie.


And I love this one that was taken by Zoe.


And here's one I took earlier.

My Christmas List

It’s that time of the year again – the mad, fun-packed few weeks when everyone gets in the party spirit. Are you ready?

Not really. I suppose I may make a list.

1. The party. I am invited to Tinkerton’s office do which is nice as I don’t think agency workers have a do. Thankfully I will be getting my new teeth just in time for the festivities. Obviously this means I will not be able to afford a new frock.
2. The outfit. See above. I shall be sporting some fash gnashers instead.
3. The food. Clint has free range turkeys and as he is still squatting in our old house it will be the least he can do. I try not to visit too often in case I find myself making friends with Christmas lunch. And we’ve our own home grown Brussels sprouts and carrots. As for the rest of the food – I don’t get this supermarket shopping frenzy the world goes on. After all, how much food can a person eat in the one day that the shops are closed?
4. Alcohol. Again, how much gin can a person drink in the one day that the offies are closed?
5. The presents. I’m really starting to like Zoë’s idea of goats and plastic buckets etc. No wrapping, no clutter, one-stop shopping. Ideal.
6. Decorations. Some of these days I’ll stroll out to the plantation and tie a yellow ribbon round an old fir tree. Then I’ll send Bert and his trusty axe out to drag it home for me. Out come the shoeboxes from the attic and on go the ancient decorations from way back when. What could be simpler?
7. Christmas cards. I’ll be sending one virtual Chrissie card via the blog. I have to make up for sacrificing that fir tree after all.
   

Only A Step To Jesus, Why Don't You Take It Now?

Throughout my working career I have often found myself in situations and places where I would never, of my own free will, have chosen to be.

There was the time myself and two other people took a group of eight special needs people to a dinner dance in Larne. All was going well until Jeannie, an epileptic, took a turn that caused her to fall face-first into her turkey dinner. While our attention was diverted Lucy, who needed to be closely supervised whilst eating, stuffed so much food into her mouth that she started choking and needed the Heimlich manoeuvre employed. Meanwhile, Jeannie recovered, got the gravy and mash washed off her face, and daintily continued to eat her meal. Yet another successful outing where we brought eight out alive and returned them in the same condition.

There have been Christmas parties held by well-meaning church groups where the guest of honour was the minister. With her remarkable talent for identifying VIPs Lisa (Down Syndrome) pulled up her sweatshirt to reveal her Do You Think I’m Sexy? Tee shirt and then treated the reverend to an impromptu lap dance.

What about a two-hour concert given by the African Children’s Choir? Those kids could certainly sing but it was still hymns. Ten minutes of that would have satisfied me.

Oh, I could go on. But I have always consoled myself that I was getting paid, and well-paid, for my attendance at these outings and dos.

But I’d have needed a lot more than the minimum wage to feel better about the service I attended last night. Up rolled the righteous in their Mercedes and Jags and suddenly the place was filled with good-livin’ folk who previously had only been names to me, names usually seen on the frontage of a number of Big Shops in the local area. So it was that I stood on my aching back legs for an hour of hymns and preaching directed at the captive audience contained within the Near At Hand Home for People Filled with Brotherly Love.

There could be no cheerier way to spend an evening than reminding the elderly that their time is rapidly running out.

And all for the minimum wage too.

Some Thoughts on Old Age

After two weeks of no work, I kept turning down clerical jobs in far-flung places like Larne and Newtownabbey; I started back at the Twilight Homes this week. And what a shame that it is this very week that my darling Katy is home for a few days.

Yesterday I was working in the Near At Hand Home for People Filled with Brotherly Love. It is a lovely looking place although rather regimented. I’m there today and tomorrow as well. Is this why I woke up this morning feeling horribly depressed?

The care is good enough, the surroundings are beautiful but I get a sense that the people who work there are just ‘doing a job’. As is normal in these places there is a lot of bitching and cliquery. The usual form of bitching is that other workers don’t pull their weight. One thing about this particular home is that it is certainly rambly enough for people to hide in. And from what I’ve seen so far I think some of them do.

Urrgh! I hate the thought of going in there this evening.

Then there is the clientele. The people that still have their wits about them are mostly lovely and really interesting to talk to, that is, if you get the chance. But the others, the ones in bed who barely know who or where they are, they depress me so. What is the point of that? The hardest thing is to look at the photographs on display taken maybe just a few years before when they were alert, up and about, and alive. Now they’re lying rigid, skeletal, paper-thin, hovering between half-life and the end. These are people who had lives, loves, jobs, hobbies and families they knew.

So – no matter the fineness of the furnishings or the splendour of the surroundings these are such sad places. The up-and-about ones, if they still have their minds, must know that it is only a matter of time before they too are lingering under full-time nursing care. Unless they are lucky enough to, one day, just drop suddenly dead. The ironic thing is that the quality of care and attention to nutrition etc. keeps most living long beyond their natural span.

There is much to be said to be said for the experience of benign neglect in a home of one’s own.

Basic Concepts of Information Technology

So how was your class?

Not bad. Tonight was the first night of our peer to peer teaching practice.

What was the class?

Basic Concepts of Information Technology.

Dear God! Sounds damnable. Who took it?

This guy. Know what he did? Only built a computer right in front of us. And made it look easy and fun. How am I going to compete with that when I take my class in word processing?

Getting Some Work Done

Bert asked me today if Swisser had been impressed by his shelf-building skills.

“She certainly was but it’s not just Swisser,” I said, “Sandra from the blogosphere was dead impressed too. In fact I’ve offered your carpentry services to her when she comes back to live here.”

“Which one is Sandra?”, he enquired. “Is she the dissident republican?”

“Not as far as I know,” I answered. “Sandra lives in Canada. She’s a doctor and she’s going to be a plastic surgeon.”

"A plastic surgeon? Really? Is she a nice looking girl herself?”.

“Indeed she is. But you needn’t be worrying yourself about that for she only has eyes for Ed.”

“Ed? Is he the one knows Young Rooney?”

“Not really. They come from the same town, that’s all.”

“So Sandra wants shelves built.”

“Indeed she does.”

“And she’s going to be a plastic surgeon?”

“She is.”

“That’s handy. A boy couldn’t know too many plastic surgeons and him not a beagle’s gowl off fifty. D’ye think she’ll fix these bags under my eyes for me? ”

"Well, if you make a good job of the shelves - she might."

Thanks Be To God

Manuel walks among us again.

While Nelly Was Away

I wouldn’t say that life with Bonnie is perfect. Take this morning, for instance – I left the house at 9am. I’d let Bonnie out to pee and made sure she had water. Meanwhile the other two dogs were still lazing in bed with Bertie boy.

Bert told me later that he thought the banging and crashing noises was just me doing the housework. For some reason Bert thinks I’m very loud as I go about my housewifely duties. Maybe I am. It’s bad enough having to do 85% of the cleaning, (Bert thinks it’s 50% but he’s wrong, wrong, wrong) without having to tippytoe around like a little creepy mouse.

But when the noise got really extreme he thought he really must look into it immediately. So half an hour later he dragged himself from his hairy bed and went downstairs. What a sight! All over the floor were smashed plates, shattered glasses, Oatabix (yuk!), full tins of dog food with teeth marks in them and pretty much everything else that Slutty Moser hadn’t cleared up from the previous night. That’ll learn me.

We don’t know whether Bonnie actually jumped on top of the worktop and pranced around or if she just stood on her hind legs and swept it all, Skippy-style, on to the floor with her paws. But it seems she’s not one for bland flavours as she never lipped the Oatabix (yuk!) but had a good chew at the cayenne pepper.

What?

If you want to know why Hannah is going to call her first born Bait you must read this.

Bonnie's Progress

Bonnie has been with us for 21 days now. It looks like Toast might have been right after all.

I did contact the Council dog warden but she had not been reported missing. I put up posters in the village; it was over a week before there was any calls. The response did not come from her previous owners but from concerned neighbours. Names were neither requested or given.

This is what I learned. Bonnie had spent her whole life chained in a shed. When her owner went into hospital his wife let Bonnie loose and whether this was by accident or deliberately I don’t know. The neighbours took her in and bathed and fed her for she was filthy and starving. She stayed with them for about a week getting on well with everyone including heir own dog. But then the two dogs got away and ended up scunging on our road.

Which is when we came in. The neighbour told us that his dog made it home safely. He was happy to let us take responsibility for Bonnie. He said he’d prefer if she didn’t return to her original owners and that he was too close.

Bonnie was understandably unsettled for the first few days that she was here. She’s more at ease now. She had a bit of an upset stomach for about a week. Maybe she wasn’t used to regular feeding. I took her to my vet for a check up and had her checked for chipping. She’s unregistered. I’ve bought a licence and wormed her. The vet has pronounced her underweight but otherwise healthy.

We’re still looking for a permanent home for Bonnie. Maybe this is it.

Meanwhile Bonnie’s training regime has begun.

1. Shower Training 2. Bed Training 3. Comfy Chair Training