CHRONICLES OF HERNIA PART II:
THE LION, THE WITCH, THE WARDROBE, THE ARTDESK, THE DOUBLE-BED, THE TELLIES, ABOUT FIFTY BOXES...
The crapmove was on: Crapman and Mrs. Crapman needed my muscles in the 'Nock: They were busy moving out to the Shinny. Loughshinny, to give it its proper name, is about as boggerville as Dublin gets. The weekend was a disorientating trip that dotted between the 'Nock, the Shinny, Finglas and Woodies DIY. So, a weekend replete with glitz and glamour I'm sure you'll agree.
The best thing was the chance to be a white van man for a couple of days. I suggested that we all had to take off our shirts, but we decided against it because our frying-pan tans weren't defined enough. That, and we lacked that drug-user slimness of the average white van man. For some reason, when you're locked in a tight cabin with two other blokes, your sex drive becomes worryingly high, so that any half-decent blondie out woalking showing the tiniest bit of skin must be eye-poppingly observed almost to the point of crashing.
It was great.
To pass the time on our multiple journeys, multiple games of Yellow-reg were played, meself, Crapman, Wayner and the Crapdad whacking the pure shit out of each other everytime a UK registration plate came into view. Which was a bit ugly on the Belfast road on a Sunday when everyone was heading home after the weekend. Especially when I was sitting in the middle, riding bitch. As if manual labour wasn't tough enough, I had to endure beatings.
Ye know, in case I slackened up.
The Crapmum still hasn't forgiven me for saying "she was spouting the worst" of the lewed language BOOZED AND CONFUSED (March 2005), or indeed for referring to her as the Crapmum. Ahem. So, later that night, as we partook of some much needed MSGs courtesy of the local chinker, she proved me wrong by utterances so blue I can hear the Caribbean calling her for its sky back. My own mum won't let me go down to the Crapcave anymore, she says the crapmum is a bad influence on me. I told her to "f**k off and get c**ting real."
(In the picture, not Loughshinny.)
4 comments:
Well, if you will insult the Crapmum, Crapman will have to intervene.
Out of interest, did you pickup Yellow Reg as a concept during your time in the republic? That's certainly where I first heard it.
Anyway, there were allegedly plans afoot for Crapman, the Crapwife and myself to meet for some tasty beverages at some point. Fancy coming along?
I'm insulted I wasn't even included in the move - insulted I tell you!
Ah Knoola - don't be insulting. Us Ex-Pats have to make do with drinking heavily with them when we return to the motherland. Oh wait - they don't drink with me when I come home... dammit. OK so, I'm insulted I tell you!
It wouldn't be so bad but I was bloody well moving them too! Cheeky bollox!
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