Mother says that somebody called Margaret Thatcher has died. Don’t know the woman meself but I am only assuming that there will be a lot of cottage roofs letting in water now she’s gone.
Mother has since put me right and told me that she was not Margaret the Thatcher but a very important woman who has chosen not to lie in state. I am amazed at that. I am going to lie in state in the back bedroom for a week. People can file past and pay their respects before I finally go to the big cat bed in the sky…
Mother has got to apologise to BT. Apparently the phone being down was because some bastards nicked the copper wire from the town centre. Bless em, BT have worked all Easter to fix it. Get over it. Lots of people work over Easter and don’t sit at home scoffing Creme Eggs.
My earhole appears much better, although Mother still has a tendency to want to clean it.
Mother has now worked out a way of retiring early. Go to an NHS property, find a raised kerb, fall over it, sue the NHS for thousands, buy a caravan in Welsh Wales and bog off.
It’s called a Bobby’s Job……………
Apparently, according to today’s Daily Mail, there are several signs which mean you’ve ‘arrived’ – these are status symbols (which probably mean you’ve got more money than brains). The list includes a house worth £577,921, a second home, shopping at Waitrose or M &S, children at private or boarding school and a Mulberry Handbag. Mother reckons that she is well down this pecking order as there is no score for shopping at Aldi, having a bag for life and a cat who shits in the bath…..