Week Thirteen

Oh lads I'm going to be very bold and write another pretend post! I know, I'm a disgrace!

I don't know why I have lost the ability to stick to my usual format of late. I think it might have something to do with the days in Waterford merging into one long grey icy day punctuated with "D'ya wanna bay-eg?" s and "C'mereawancha"s.

Had a great aul week now, I must say. It consisted mainly of watching seasons one and two of The Inbetweeneers, which I highly recommend, while knitting my fingers to the bone between the child's blanket and BBB's scarf.

Went into town Saturday for a lurk around and then had some food in the Kazbar. "Wasn't that a lovely day now?" I was thinking to myself while strolling home. I was walking down Hennessy's road at the time, and across the road was a group of three little gurriers wearing tracksuits and no winter coats on them! "Jesus!", I was thinking "that's the mark of being dragged up now, your mother leaving you out without your winter coat," and it was positively BALTIC out.

Before anyone gets up on their high horse to tell me not to be judgemental allow me to just say that within 2.5 nanoseconds I was proved right! Because my friends, the instant after that thought passed through my head I heard something whistle past my ear and slap off the ground in front of me. You will NEVER guess what it was. Literally never. What was it, I hear you asking? Ah you know, just a WHOLE Country Style white pudding. That's right, one of the little gowlers threw the puddin at me head. Of course now, seeing as it didn't hit me, I didn't turn around and just walked on. I wouldn't give them the buzz of turning around. I just let on I didn't notice it. But if it had hit me. Well. Needles to say one of their mother's would still be pulling it out of their arse as you read!

I don't know what it is about little shitheads, but they just love tormenting me. Specifically they love grabbing my boobs and running off. Now I have to say that even if the little boob grabber was only about 7, I would have no qualms chasing after him and giving him a good slap. Not a bother on me.

This is the problem with kids today. While alright, I wouldn't see the need for Mammies and Daddies to slap their kids, if a little fucker grabs my boobs on the street and runs off I feel like I am within my rights to chase him down and give him a thump. And why shouldn't I? I mean, he sexually assaulted me, after all! I don't give a shit if he is 7 or 25! He needs to be learn that you don't get away with treating women like that. Touching women's boobs and then running off laughing with your mates is not acceptable. Of course now everything is so fucking politically correct in Ireland you'd be afraid to look at them sideways in case they sued you. It's political correctness gone mad. I can just imagine it now:

Lawyer: Miss Jacques, is it true that you slapped a ten year old?

Me: Of course I did, the little gowler's hand was still warm from squeezing my boob!!! He is lucky I didn't go Kunta Kinte on him!

Judge: As we in Ireland are so fucking chicken shit and scared of everything we will have to put you in jail for ever, even though you were totally right, just because we are terrified of political incorrectness.

Ok sorry had to get that little rant out. It was inevitable, after six weeks in Waterford! Now I feel better. PLUS his mother is going to kill him anyway for coming back home without the white puddin for the tea that she sent him to the shop for.

In other news this week, BBB found out that he won't be joining the marines because of his eyesight. He is -0.25 below what they are looking for in one eye. And lasering is not an option.

Technically I know I should feel at least a bit relieved. But I just don't. The poor fella. My heart goes out to him. I can't imagine now if someone came up to me and said "Sorry Jennie girl but you can't live in Italy any more cos your left boob is 1mm bigger than your right". I'd be devastated. He went out last night to get pissed i.e. drink one pint. That's very unlike him now, shur God love him.

Of course I couldn't sign off without mentioning that it's a new year etc and my resolutions etc. As usual my main goal is to make Eddie Hobbs proud. And I think I'll rob Stewy's resolution to visit 5 different countries this year. Oh yeah and ride a unicycle across a rope over Niagara Falls. Obviously.