Midget minge eaters

There we were in our local pub having a lovely Sunday lunch with the extended family when the topic of midget lesbian porn came up. Specifically, promises of midget lesbian porn shows made to Harry and Clark whilst on a stag do in Prague. Colour me surprised that neither my Dad nor Stepmother choked on their chicken as we all sat casually discussing such a topic surrounded by villagers – in fact, Dad chipped in with his own story of strip bars in Hamburg which I now need to try and eradicate from my memory!

This weekend was back in the Shire for my littlest nephew’s christening which was glorious. Very relaxed and family fun orientated, we had a picnic on the beach with champers (ooh yes please!), smoked salmon (double yes please!), and fru puddings (yumbo!) before coming back to the family pile and hitting the pub. Yours truly got delightfully wankered on a pint (and a half – shh) of cider, went home for dinner and had a significant amount of white wine before deciding it was a great idea to go back to the pub with Harry and Clark.

I should probably stop and explain who these two additions to the blog are – Clark is one of the Middle Wife’s brothers who has glasses and dark hair and who I like to think of as having two distinct personalities in a good way, (he doesn’t require strong medication and a straitjacket) a bit like superman/clark kent. Our Clark goes from being suited and booted and looking very smart indeed to wandering about with his shirt off talking about running round naked in a pub after having been 8 balled. Harry was his ‘date’ to the christening, the friend he managed to convince it was a Harry Potter fancy dress christening meaning that Hazza rocked up with a ‘wizard jacket’ that looked like it had come from the world’s chavviest wedding, hence the new blog nickname assigned to him.

So Harry, Clark and I headed off for the pub unfortunately landing there just moments before last orders however for once, the sleepy little village that my folks call home was playing host to a party! A real live actual party! For people under the age of 80, with booze and cheesy music! Reeeesult! Wandering in we were hoping to fade into the background however as everyone else was in fancy dress – kudos to the woman wearing the leotard and welder’s mask!- stealth gatecrashing mode was not an option. Mustering up the cojones to style it out I strutted over to the drunkest women we could see and confessed that we were gatecrashing and didn’t know a soul – you could have knocked me down with a feather when she offered us some wine and then proceeded to give us a whole bottle. Proceeded to get more drunk whilst talking a lot about Billericay, Clark offended this fella by asking if he was dressed as one of the Village People (he had a handlebar moustache and aviators on) but this was soon forgotten as the homoerotic fella started pouring Mount Gay rum (oh how ironic) down our throats. We all got a bit misty eyed over the chinese lanterns, Harry who reminds me of Smithy from Gavin & Stacey kept telling us ‘aww they look just like stars’ and then we decided to call it a night. We did try and nick a massive eagle statue on the way home however Harry couldn’t lift it so ended up giving it what looked like a love cuddle, Clark was sneaking away slightly concerned about being caught and I was giggling so hard I thought I might wet myself. Needless to say, Sunday wasn’t fun. Especially as yours truly was relegated to the floor in the loggia which has no curtains. Sunrise? Ouch.

Felt confident this weekend – what a change! Overheard my Stepmother telling people how much I have changed and how lovely it is. I must say I agree – I like being able to just relax and have fun without worrying what people must think of me for having such a massive arse. Talked about this book that I’m writing a lot, am starting to get slightly more comfortable with talking about it, although was slightly mortified to hear that Clark had read the first bit that I had sent to the Middle Wife because he is a man and it talks about my va-jay-jay but at twenty seven years old I am guessing he is aware that women have hoo hoo’s and they make the world go round. Best moment of the weekend has to have been either spending time cuddling my nephew or when my stepmum called me over for a hug and told me she thinks I am fantastic. Score one for Long Tall Ally!

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