Keeping It Real With Kathy Beale

Keeping it Real

Thursday night….a school night..and there I am ‘twatted’, (drunk that is…not a Welsh person’s name).

I haven’t had a drop of alcohol since Christmas Day, partly because the situation hasn’t arisen, and also because I’ve been dosed up on steroids, and the new medication for arthritis (Mincer’s Hip).

So I really needed a good night out and a chance to let my hair down with the husband and a few friends. Feeling like hermits in recent weeks, just the thought of leaving the house gave us the opportunity to have a good pluck of those eyebrows and trim our bushes. The hair on my chest was longer than the hair on my head!

Karaoke at the Rose and Crown…yes I know…true to stereotype, but I do like a good belter and since giving up smoking, Im sounding more and more like Gary Barlow every day..so it would be rude not to get smashed and bang out a few crowd-pleasers to our adoring fans.

Our friend Kerry arrived and we made haste into town without so much as a warm up drink, (we had no mixers). We were shortly joined by Rick, Ross, Katy and her mate…who I’m ashamed to say I was too drunk to catch her name.. I’ll call her…erm.. Lesbian.

You always know when Ross arrives that it’s going to be a messy night, and true to form we downed a few shots along with the obligatory Vodka and Diet Cokes, and started to form our own band. Rick had brought his air guitar, Kerry threw some shapes and we all lip synced for our lives to everyone else songs. The husband and I also had a good go at murdering George Michael. (I realise how terribly insensitive and premature it is to say that….but I meant ‘Don’t let the sun go down on me’)

Half way through the night we were treated to an elongated interval of ‘Play your cards right’. When  the 14th contestant still hadn’t won, it was time to disrupt proceedings by setting off the fire alarm with my super vaping e-cig. The Manager came round with the search committee, looking for the culprit and promptly challenged me on whether I had been vaping directly under the fire alarm.

“Of course not!”, I confirmed …as I peered through the cloud of smoke… like Diane Fossey in “Gorillas in the Mist”

Nevertheless… my plan seemed to work and the air-guitar was go again!  A bit of Girls Aloud, Steps and some 80s nostalgia, that only I seemed to know the words to, because everyone else is like…12 years old.

At the end of the night the music stopped and we were sat pondering which taxi firm to order, that would take us home,via McDonalds,when suddenly our saviour … Kathy Beale arrived to our rescue. Obviously not the real Kathy Beale, but we’ve seen her there a few times and…well..she bloody looks likes her. Kathy said she would take us home via McDonalds in return for an apple pie….you can’t say fairer than that. (Albeit we were a little wary as we knew Kathy had ‘previous’ for ‘looking after men’ in cars)

While Kathy fetched the car from the car -park we sat and observed a pikey couple having a lover’s tiff. I think he’d tried to grab her…this was in Hemel Hempstead…not Appleby Horse Fair.

We honoured our promise of  apple pie for Kathy Beale and also a large meal each, 20 nuggets and mozzarella dippers ..you don’t like to be rude. We sped home, said farewell to Kathy, ate our food and collapsed where we sat.

The next morning, the flashbacks started to come through and we vaguely recalled the Eastenders star taking us home, when the realisation suddenly kicked in. My husband had left his phone in Kathy Beale’s car.  How would we find it? We didn’t know who this lady really was, or where she lived but I was suddenly transported into the 21st century.

Within 30 minutes of realising our loss, and with the help of modern technology…we had found Kathy Beale (real name Sarah…huge disappointment), and the phone was safely returned. The ‘Find my iPhone’ app took us to her house and we instantly recognised her car, we had managed to find her on Facebook via mutual friends and got hold of her phone number.

She came to the door in her best dressing gown with bed- hair like ‘Linda La Hughes’ …all of a sudden she didn’t look like Kathy Beale anymore.

Needless to say we got his phone back and returned home to enjoy our hangovers.

 

 

Source: Indépendant.co.uk

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The Curious Incident…

The curious incidentLast weekend we went to see The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night time… a little Christmas treat from my pal.

The plot was about a young boy with autism who was trying to find the killer of his neighbour’s dog- Wellington, and we were all drawn in to his life story and gripped by his tenacity and  methodical approach to the world. This was a real thought provoking play with sad bits, random shit, and a cute labrador puppy at the end to help take your mind away from the incessant crying.

While I was there though, I was drawn to a number of other curious incidents..

The curious incident of the 70 year old Usherette with Tuberculosis

As I said this was a play that required attention..there were moments of powerful silence where you could hear a pin drop….well…you could if ‘old Sylvia’ from the grand circle could control her whooping cough. Ironically the pensioner who was paid to make sure people were not talking or disrupting anyone’s experience sat dying in the corner….disrupting everyone’s experience.   Oh we did laugh…

The Curious Incident of the Tongue and Grooved Theatre

I have never been to Aylesbury Theatre, and unlike Drury Lane, it offered a much more modern motif  with   a sea of wooden cladding that gave the feeling of being in a scandinavian sauna. Luckily the heat was turned right down…although if we had thrown a bucket of menthol on the coals, then Sylvia may have been able to clear her chest.

The Curious Incident of the overweight gay and the pretty lesbian 

I’ve never met a real one… but a couple of rows in front of us, there was a gay boy with a stomach to his knees and the arse the size of Belgium. Sat next to him was a beautiful petit lesbian (an oxymoron in ordinary circumstances). It’s usually the other way round…but no the bloke was a dog and the dyke was a babe.

We had a great night with good friends and a lovely McDonalds to wash it down on the way home.

 

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So I Have Arthritis…And There’s Me Thinking It Was Mincer’s Hip

so-i-ahev-arthritis-and-theres-me-thinking-it-was-mincers-hipIm not one for pain ordinarily, so when I started getting some in my left leg, I just put it down to the fact that I had been allocated a company car that wasn’t automatic…you know…first world problems.

At Christmas this pain just grew and grew and I became stiffer and stiffer (my joints that is), culminating in a point where I had to drag myself to chav central (the Doctor’s surgery) the day after Boxing day to get some stronger pain-killers.

By now the pain and swelling had hit every joint in my body, my fingers were like cumberland sausages, I was walking like Quasimodo and the moans and groans I was subjecting everyone to, were as annoying as two fat slags at a pie bake-off.

Nevertheless, I thought, maybe I’m a bit run down. I spend a lot of time at work and It would be my luck to fall ill during the Christmas holidays (much like when there is a Snow day on your scheduled day off!). I had some blood tests and was sent on my merry (not merry) way with some anti-inflammatories and painkillers.

A week later when I got the blood test results and feeling no better (in fact a lot worse) I returned to the very lovely lady Doctor who referred me to see a Rheumatologist.

Knowing how the NHS runs in the UK, I decided to make use of my Private Healthcare and instead of waiting 2 months to see a specialist, I was seen the very next day in a lovely little hospital with no screaming kids and a ‘coffee menu’…if you don’t mind.

I was prodded and poked and sent for another round of blood tests, (I’ve now had more pricks than Kerplunk), and it turns out that I have arthritis, that is more than likely Rheumatoid.

Evidently Rheumatoid arthritis is an auto-immune disease where your white cells start attacking the fluid in your joints, mistaking them for foreign objects- a life-long disease that affects everyone differently. I always associated arthritis with old people…but seemingly it’s a genetic disease that can happen at anytime (including birth).

Due to the Doctor being unable to diagnose Rheumatoid Arthritis until I have had symptoms for 8 weeks (protocol), I need to return in a couple of weeks to discover the inevitable. In fact, I have already been referred to receive ‘Disease Modifying Therapy’, and he has indicated pretty strongly that this is what he believes it is.

So I am left at a point in my life where I am faced with a little uncertainty. This is not a feeling I am used to, there are lots of questions in my mind. What next? Will the pain go away? Will I be entitled to a divvy parking badge?

With the 8 weeks of steroids I have been prescribed, I have been told to try swimming and …yoga….(FML).

So I’m writing this post in contrast to my usual style and content.  I would like to pay thanks to my husband and family, who have been really looking after me over the last few weeks. I am never ill, and albeit in chronic pain, the upside is..I have been able to lap up a bit of sympathy. I have been  delivered muffins, I’ve been cooked for….been given a nutri-bullet (thanks mum and dad) and everyone has just been genuinely lovely to me whilst I relax and dose myself up.

Thats All.

The Status Updates You’ll Find On Gay Men’s Facebook Pages in 2017

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Ok so I know I am being a bit stereotypical here, and don’t speak on behalf of all fellow ‘Friends of Dorothy’, but here is a round up of all the statuses you are likely to see this year from your Gay BFF.

January

“Happy Birthday Dame Shirley…..80 years and still a legend…love you babes”

February

“Long Lost Family…Get the tissues ready…..Love Davina”

March

“Has nobody killed Donald Trump yet? The world needs a new Jackie’O’…..Melania would rock it as a widow”

April

“Ooh weather man says it’s gonna be 15 degrees tomorrow….roof down!”

May  13th 7.30pm

             ” Eurovision partyyyyyyyy…..Gotta good feeling about this year”

May 13th  11pm

” Cant believe the politics and bloc voting, how can FYR Macedonia win and we came last #Eurovision #politics #WhoWasThatHotGuyFromEstonia

June

“Im sorry…. but how can they cancel Eastenders because of the football….not everyone likes football”

July

“I need to find an outfit for Pride…should I go for hot pants and a pink boa, or the sailor outfit?”

August

“Lighting the candles on my Princess Diana shrine…cant believe it’s been 20 years” #peoplesprincess

September

“No more Gay pride events…..ooh wait Merthyr Tydfil and Stornaway !……iron that white vest top”.

October

“Woop Woop, Kylie’s Christmas tickets go on sale tomorrow….up at 5am!!”

November

“OMG they are re-running Bad Girls on ITV2…. Yvonne Atkins is a legend”

December

“Mariah!  you know I love you princess, but seriously If I hear you sing that Christmas song one more time I’m gonna launch one of my Uggs at the radio”.

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A Good Suffolk Sausage Every Second Sunday…

….Try saying that when you’ve had a drink

Why not try a good old fashioned ‘Toad in the hole’ this Sunday? Its so easy….you could even get the kids to make it while you put your feet up and contemplate your navel.

Here is a ‘Toad in the hole’ my step-daughter rustled up earlier.

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Ingredients

  • 225g Plain Flour
  • 2 tbsp Dijon Mustard
  • 4 Eggs
  • 300ml Milk
  • 12 sausages (ordinarily you would use 8 but we are greedy…so the philosophy is…as many as you can fit in the dish)
  • 2 tbsp Sunflower oil.
  • Salt and Pepper
  • A large gin and tonic

Method

  1. Preheat the oven to 200 degrees/Gas mark 6
  2. Pour the oil into the bottom of the dish and make sure the bottom is well lubricated….ooh I sayfullsizerender-copy-3
  3. Bake in the pre-heated oven for 15 minutes
  4. While the bangers are baking, whisk together the flour, eggs and half the milk until smooth, then start to mix in the rest of the milk, add the dijon mustard and season with a good pinch of salt and black pepper

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5. Remove the sausages from the oven and ladle the batter over them (make sure they are not completely covered, otherwise you’ll have a soggy ‘hole.)

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6.Bake for 35 Minutes until the centre has raised and gone brown

7. Serve with vegetables, mash potato and onion gravy (don’t be pratting about with making your own gravy….nothing wrong with bisto gravy granules.)

8. Now stuff your face….and leave the washing up for ‘mañana’ Then get on the gin.

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For Proper recipes please see fellow blogger: Call me Trav