Archive for May, 2007

Shopping

Wednesday, May 23rd, 2007

“How old are you”

“49 and you”

“25”

“Do you like other tea” she says
“I’ll drink it but I like Early Grey and especially Russian Earl Grey”

“I dont like Russians” she replies thoughtfully

“Russian Early Grey is hardly the KGB”

she gives me more than just a bit of a look and writes something onto a piece of paper.

“What about marmalade?”

“Not too keen on it to be honest, in fact I am not really a big jam eater.  Every now and then I make my own, but I end up giving it away because I don’t eat enough of it”

“I thought all English men liked marmalde”

“Not this one”

She scrubs marmalade from what I have now twigged is a shopping list.

“What do you like”

“Well, almost anything really.  I am not too keen on broccoli but will eat it”

“You are not being very helpful” she says looking a little hurt.
“I’m sorry but I don’t quite know what you mean”

“I need to look after you and so I must go shopping and get things to cook for you,  but I don’t know what you like or anything about you really”

I can see her point, but by the same time I was not expecting her to do everything.

We sit there is silence looking out of the window.

“Would it help if we went shopping together?”

I expected her to say yes or no, I did not expect her to leap to her feet clap her hands and kiss me on the cheek, before doing that Estonian bouncy, Skippy thing as she bounced around the flat to get ready.  How the fuck can any one get so excited about going to Tesco.

I look at my favourite photo of my wife and she looks back at me, and you know, I swear she’s bloody smirking!

Moving In & Going Out

Tuesday, May 22nd, 2007

Well I now have a house keeper. I am not sure about the whole thing but only time will tell.
Having sorted a few things out – identity, making sure she was legal and registered etc and few ground rules she went tripping off to the Bush to get her stuff.

The basic set up is that she lives at my place (in the second bedroom) rent free and food paid for. She does the cleaning and shopping and generally keeps the place ticking along. If she abuses my trust just once or fucks about in terms of behaviour, then she is out on her ear.

She asks if she can tell her friends she is moving in with her boyfriend. I was a bit thrown and somewhat amused by this question bearing in mind our age difference. Fuck it, I suppose so if it makes you happy Doris.
She was back quite soon with a carry on flight bag and a vanity case thingy. I travel light but it did not seem much for a life in the smoke.

Since then she has been spring cleaning. If she had cleaned the bloody place to start with there would not be so much to do, but then I suppose she was busy doing other things to worry about cleaning and she didn’t expect to be living there did she?
It is weird though having someone else sharing your living space. I had forgotten female ways of doing things. I am a bit untidy, not a slob, but I am not an iron hoof either, so I don’t do the pristine nothing out of place routine.

I decided to try to get back into a routine that resembles normality. I have not really been out and about much since I got back from my last job, so I thought about going out for a few drinks and spot of grub. I mentioned it and Leinka said OK. About 6.30pm I smell toast being cooked and asked her what she is doing. With hindsight it was bloody obvious what she was doing, she was cooking toast. She was cooking toast because she thought I was going out and she was staying in. Had I asked her out? Had I sort of assumed she would come? I don’t know.
“Come on get ready”

“I don’t have any money”

“What?”

“I don’t have any money to go out. Angela pays me at the end of the week but I had to pay the girls my rent for next week and I only have a bit left for food”

“How much do you have”

“£25”

You don’t have to buy food I will take care of that. Are you coming out or not?

A big smile exploded across her face and she leapt off the settee like a baby gazelle and sort of bounced towards the bathroom.

Looks like she’s coming then!

Cleaning Ladies 2

Tuesday, May 22nd, 2007

After the somewhat unorthodox introduction to my Estonian cleaning lady (see yesterdays post) we ended up sleeping together. Let me get one thing straight here, I mean sleeping not shagging. The next morning was very weird, even by my standards. It would seem that my part time unofficial lodger was used to borrowing what M&S and Next now refer to as lounge wear. When I was a boy we called them PJs. She was obviously used to getting up showering in my en suite and wandering round naked, which is exactly what happened on Saturday morning until she suddenly remembered YT and then scampered back to the shower room to get a towel. Shame. She then decided she would make US breakfast. Nice mug of Earl Grey some toast etc which she served me in bed. Now I have never been a great lover of breakfast in bed because I end up getting crumbs in the bed. It annoys me and used to drive my wife fucking nuts. This lady was no different.

“Norman you are gedding de crumbs in de bed”

“I know I am trying not to”

“Id will be all scratchy layder”

Look, go with this and just try to imagine and Estonian accent please.

I am not used to domestic intimacy. I have not lived with a woman since my wife and children were killed. That’s not to say that I don’t shag, but I just don’t do domestic any more and this was way strange.

Eventually I got up and showered and prepared for the day ahead and to decide just what to do about Doris.

She cleared up and was clearly very apprehensive and nervous. To be fair I can see why. I always saw myself as a reasonable easy going geezer until my wife told me people found me intimidating unapproachable and often frightening. She said look at you 100kg shaven head mad eyes and decorated with a variety of interesting  scars. It was the first time anyone had ever said this to me and I was genuinely surprised but had to accept her version of how the world sees me. She was right.

“Well what are we going to do about this?” I asked in my friendliest tone with a big smile.

She started crying. Not just tears but big sad desperate sobs. I could tell this was not going well!

She stood there with her head hanging down and cried so that big fat tears plopped onto the floor and I stood there looking at her like a lemon. Eventually I moved and put my arm around her and she buried her head into my shoulder.

Fuck me, this is real Mills and boon stuff but I will plough on.

It is a long time since I had held a woman like that or felt someone cry properly and I don’t know but I felt something. At first I thought it was wind but then realised that it was a churning in my guts caused by emotion, sympathy, loss. I don’t know it was something like that.

I stroked her head and she stopped trying to water log the carpet and sniffed. Lots.

I reassured her I was not going to tell Angela. That was OK. What about her “boyfriend” and the weekends. Hmmm tricky – fuck I don’t want some 20 odd year old hanging round do I? Do I? The nest thing I am saying well maybe you could sort of be the house keeper or whatever. WHATEVER!! What are you on Norm!

“I will need to think it through and work out some rules and stuff”

“Oh thank you, thank you”

Watch the is space

Potato Salad & Cleaning Ladies

Sunday, May 20th, 2007

I went to Luxembourg and Belgium last week. I thought I was going to be back on Wednesday but alas it was not to be and did so did not get back until late on Friday night. I don’t mind Luxembourg, it is an inoffensive sort of place and in my line of work the people I deal with are very pro and so my time there was pleasant.

Then onto Brussels. One should be suspicious of place that is really only famous because there is a vegetable named after it. Not a good well loved veg like cauliflower, spuds or swede but one with a very dodgy reputation such as the sprout. I like sprouts but I am in a minority. Brussels is full of miserable people. Hardly anyone smiles and as for the expats you come across, fuck me sideways they are a miserable, pompous bunch of fuckers.

I know a lot of Belgians in my professional life. You come across them all the time in Africa and the less well known parts of the world. No matter how shitty or dire the circumstances these blokes always seemed laid back, happy and contented. I asked one once why this was and he said because it is better than Belgium!

One reason I went to Brussels was to attend the funeral of Lucky Jim. He was good bloke but an insignificant man, which might explain why the hearse followed the other cars. The funeral meal was interesting and the centre piece was a replica of the deceased made from potato salad, which was different.

And so back to London. You may recall that I had not seen hide nor hair of my cleaning woman since my return and I was threatening all sorts of things. Our paths have now crossed.

I got home quite late on Friday night and was pretty well done in. Dropped my bag in the living room and had a quick drink before heading to the bedroom. As I was having my beer I heard music and what sounded like voices coming from my bedroom. The fucking Bose CD, clock radio thingy has a mind of its own and was doing its own thing again. So much for buying quality products! Fuck it I will go and sort it out and then hit the sack. I am not easily surprised, but the sight of a nubile, pretty,  naked female on all fours with arse stuck in the air with a rather large vibrator protruding from her minge is something of surprise. What do you do in these circumstances. In magazines and porn films the bloke joins in for a monumental sexual romp, but this was real life not a pron film and more to the point who the fuck was this doris?

I an not usually lost for words but I stood there for a few seconds with my gob open and looked like a bigger oaf than I do normally

UN “Excuse me”
Shrieks from woman followed by lots of foreign screaming as she goes diving for cover under bed clothes.

I presume she had removed the vibrator but this was not a question uppermost in my mind.

UN “Who the fuck are you”

“WHO ARE YOU” Shrieks the strange woman

“I am Uncle Norman and this is my flat and I would like to know what you are doing fucking yourself in my bed”

There was a lot of screaming and hollering, but then the woman calmed down and told me in and Eastern European accent that she is called Leinka (Not sure of the spelling), she is 20 and from Estonia and she is my cleaner. Which was odd because last time I looked my cleaner was a 40 year old Colombian woman called Angela who was as ugly as sin. It transpires Angela has gone into the employment business. But that was only half the story. Why was this girl in my flat masturbating with a fuck off vibrating dildo on a Friday night?

It transpires she lives in a little flat in Shepherds Bush with four or five other girls and has been using my gaff at the weekends. Partly because she has told them she has a boy friend and partly to have some space of her own. I could understand her using the place, sort of, but I could not get to grips with why, if she was using the place as her own did she not do any cleaning!

“What are you going to do with me?” Sobs the seriously embarrassed, very tearful, 20 year Estonian girl.   What indeed.  I could really do without all this.

I eventually got her to calm down.  I sit on the side of the bed and she is sitting in my bed with the covers pulled up to her chin covering her modest, which all things considered was a little late.   She does not have much money for a taxi or tube.  Her fiends have their boyfriends round so the flat is even more crowded plus she will loose face if they know she has not got a boyfriend.  I offered her a drink and she said she would like a vodka so I went of to do the drinks.  She wanders in wearing my dressing gown.

We had a couple of drinks and a reasonably normal conversation.  She tells me a bit about her life etc and I start to get the impression that maybe Angela’s business with these girls is a little more than just cleaning.  So I ask the question.  More wailing and nashing of teeth.  Angela supplies girls to work in a few knocking shops, some are  up town a few are out towards Hounslow and Heathrow.  Leinka has refused, so she only gets a few places to clean and does not make much money, barely enough to live on.

It is gone 1.15am and I am totally and utterly fucked – figuratively speaking.  I have to get my head down and say so.

“Where are you going to sleep?” she asks

“In my fucking bed” I replied

“Where will I sleep?”

I had not actually said she could stay, but it struck me if I was going to kick her out I should have done it awhile ago.   My flat is quite a reasonable size.  I have three bedrooms, There is my bedroom and a guest room and one which I use as an office.  The bed in the pare room was not made so I gave her a choice make up the spare bed, sleep on the sofa or kip down with me in the comfy bed.

I would like to think it was my sexual charm and magnetism that got her to my bed but the truth be known I think she was as bewildered and knackered as I was and idea of making up another bed or going home was just too much.  I know one thing, she snores!

Loons & Internet Access at Work

Monday, May 14th, 2007

As my regular visitors will be aware, I made a comment on Petite Anglaises site which she did not like.  I wrote a post here, which put more accurately my feelings about this young lady and her rather “interesting readership”.  Well since then I have been inundated with visitors and emails, but what is interesting is the speculation on that site about who or what I am.

Apparently somebody has actually hijacked my persona and commented on some peoples sites, in one instance about their house.  What the fuck!  I ask you have you ever known a bloke comment on how nice a house looks.  Duhh
These people are loons of the first order, but what is sad is that they cannot see it.  They don’t have real live just virtual ones.

I got an email from someone, saying that apparently one female reader of PA was bored at work so had tried tracing me using whois etc.  I was aware of some of this but the question I would ask is “Was that a suitable use of a company resource in both time and money”  My reply would be “No”.  She is being paid to work not read blogs and try to find out who I am.  As for the cunt who said I like children ………………Be afraid.

Apparently I am a woman

Sunday, May 13th, 2007

Well despite being a weekend when everyone should be doing real things with real people ,the sad happy people of blog land (well one blog) continue to debate the whys and wherefores of good old UN.

Some people have done who is checks – clever but not that clever.  You see I used a company who organised and managed my hosting etc for me.  No reason other than it is very necessary bearing in mind how much I am away.  So the names and addresses that appear are not mine.  You could always contact them but I think I know what reply you will get.
Now on to more important things
One race horse boasted to his stall mates, “I won 8 of my last 15 races!”

Another horse responded, “Oh, yeah? I won 19 of my last 27 races!”

A third said, “That’s not bad, but I won 28 of my last 36 races!”

A greyhound piped up, “Not to boast, but I won 88 of my last 90 races!”

The horses were amazed. “Wow! A talking dog!”

I noticed a team of Hungarian scientists have identified photographs which has led them to believe there’s life on Mars.

They found thousands of dark stains on the surface of the planet.

Take it from me. What this means is that Mars is covered with expensive carpet and is populated by Chihuahuas.

Off to Luxembourg and Belgium for at least three days maybe four.  When I get back I must speak to the web company about this word press set up.  It is a bit of a pain in the bum.

Try not to miss me too much.

Worried

Sunday, May 13th, 2007

Dear Uncle Norman.

Do you think the building work near my house could damage the health of my unborn baby?
You can see in this photo that I am very stressed.

Please help

Lorraine

Worried about the effects of building work on unborn babies

Dear Lorraine

Thank you for contacting me.  I have consulted with the eminent Dr Death who is pretty sure that the work wont do your child any harm. However he did say that you should be careful whilst scratching your fanny and smoking as you might get it wrong and singe your minge.

Hope that clears things up for you.

UN

Stuff and Nonsense

Friday, May 11th, 2007

Over at Petite Anglaise  the uproar continues.  I have been offered cold enemas – never tried a hot one so nothing new there.  Some lady offered to bugger me, very nice darling and I would be willing to oblige if I can return the favour.

But what a lot of fuss about nothing and still only Sally Lomax who actuallt stood up to be counted.  Which is a shameful indictment against the 450 people a day that have logged into this site.  I have emailed Sally and congratulated her on her stand. I will add Sally Lomax to my my blog list because she stood up and was counted.
To be honest I still cannot see what all the fuss is about.  I made a comment on her site, which was curt but not particularly offensive in my opinion.  Now to be fair,  I could see her and some of her little poodles being upset at what I wrote about her here, but this is my site and if they didn’t like my style don’t come and look.

We hear a lot about global warming and the need to use more environmentally friendly processes and construction techniques.  However an architectural firm as come up with a unique way to blend a concert hall, offices and a retail shop structure not only into an environmentally friendly structure, but a green structure, literally. For a view of this amazing concept Click Here

Famous

Thursday, May 10th, 2007

Petite Anglaise has dedicated a post to me, well to be fair it is to me and a bit about her daughter. I suppose I should  put a link to her and go and leave more comments on her site, except that she is moderating it and blocking comments in favour of your old uncle.
I was just thinking, the last time anyone dedicated anything was one of Gerry Adams boys hit me in the leg in South Amargh, and that was few years ago. Oh Ed Stewpot mentioned me on junior choice one Saturday, but fuck me that was a long time ago.

What I find funny about this PA business is that she was banging on about freedom of speech and the blog freely blah blah, BUT then when somebody actually says something she and her little band of readers don’t like, she gets all high and mighty and censors them.   I have asked her to tell me explain the difference between what she does and what any dictator does.

Freedom of speech means that sometimes people say things you don’t like.
The hate mail from my PAs fans has not helped the spastic email setup. What is funny though is that out of about almost 60 messages only one person has left a proper email address or url.  Well done sally Lomax and I am not taking the piss here for having the guts and balls to speak out.  But what does that tell us about the rest of the toss pots?
Look chaps give it a few days before you email me telling me what a cunt I am, I know me better than you do so I know just what a total bastard I can be, so save yourself a bit of typing and RSI. You don’t even scratch the surface of how low I can go. I could muff dive and amputee midget.

What is the difference between a midget and a dwarf?

Last but not least, those of you who have wished slow painful deaths on my kids (nice lot those PA readers) you are a few years late.  But you will pleased to know, that their deaths were indeed slow and painful, so you should be able to get some kip with a smile on your face.

Princess Diana Latest

Wednesday, May 9th, 2007

New evidence has emerged that Diana’s last words to Dodi were: ‘Jesus, I’m knackered. I can’t wait for my head to hit that pillar.’