Just when you thought..

Just when you thought that supertwat just couldn't get any madder, he goes and does something completely insane.
Well, after receiving the cheques yesterday, (and almost seeking treatment for delusions and hallucinations as I couldn't believe what I was seeing) I was beginning to think that maybe he was starting to become a little more decent.

WRONG!!!!

Received an e-mail today asking me where his brown suit jacket, white jacket and tux are.

How the hell should I know???????????????

He's accusing me of not packing them up for him when I had to bag up all of his stuff with my mum. He's also hinting at the fact that he wants to reduce the overall amount of money he owes me by charging me for them going missing.

Now, pardon me for sounding slightly unreasonable but.... "I am not a fucking storage facility or Royal Mail recorded delivery department!!!!!!"

My mum and I sobbed as we had to bag up all of his stuff just days after he left as he said he wouldn't come and do it. He even sent his parents to collect it rather than get it himself.
He's now accusing me of having done something to it or disposed of it. This is following an e-mail I sent him the other day which said I'd found all of his rugby crystal and trophies in the loft as well as a couple of odd cufflinks and a few belts when I was clearing out some drawers.
Now, if I was the vindictive cow he thinks I am - do you not think I would have "disposed" of that stuff and not 3 random jackets? God he makes me so mad.

Now, if I was going to hang onto something of his, don't you think I'd choose something with sentimental value and not some rancid white jacket that made him look like an extra from "Miami Vice" or a shitty brown suit jacket that created so much static you could power a small hamlet for a week? He's also saying I've witheld his tuxedo. Now, I'll admit that I hacked his wedding tux to pieces but I put that in a bag with all his other stuff. I did not, I repeat, DID NOT hang on to an ill fitting tux from his uni days, that hideous brown suit top half or the 80s throwback Don Johnson leisure jacket!

AAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!! He makes me so mad that I could scream.

I also had a strange experience at breakfast this morning. I'm trying to put on some weight so I've been eating cooked breakfasts lately. This morning was poached egg on some of my home made bread. I was well chuffed because the egg (for once) had held together and didn't look like "boiled cloud with yellow smear" which my recent poaching efforts have resembled. I was just shovelling down eggy ketchupy bread when I noticed something on my ceiling.
Now, I know people have random phobias and fears and I will never understand why people are scared of spiders (I also saw this programme once where a woman was afraid of buttons - freak!!!) but my fear is (urgh, I can barely even say it....)

SLUGS!!

I hate the damn things. They make my skin crawl. I hate anything slimy and wriggly and slugs literally make me heave. Imagine my surprise then when I notice one on my breakfast room ceiling!

I always thoughst slugs were ground dwelling creatures but apparently not in my world. I watched it for a while, (just to make sure it was actually a slug) and then had to spit out my half chewed egg as it was reminding me of a slug.

As I gobbed poached egg all over my breakfast plate (god, I'm such refined company at the table) I began to panic about what I was going to do. I couldn't leave it there as if it went somewhere I couldn't see it then I wouldn't be able to be in the house. If I attacked it then I might have some sort of panic attack.

So, what did I do?

Well, I'm surprised you didn't guess.

I put on rubber gloves, wellies (with my pjyamas tucked into them), a hat (in case it fell into my hair) and a polo neck (in case it fell down the front of my pyjama top) and climbed on top of a chair to whack it with a "Wayside Pulpit" (our local free village mag from the church).

I was therefore, tottering on an antique chair wearing something that made me look like the german soliders in "Allo Allo". I was trying to hit it but it's hard to make contact with something that you daren't look at. When I did catch a glimpse of it, I was nearly sick. It was long and brown with yellow spots on and I'm sure it was laughing at me.

I eventually knocked it off the ceiling and it fell straight into my bloody egg. I now had a slimy load of egg yolk with a huge slug writhing round in it. By this time I was squealing so much I was worried the neighbours might come round or alert the police. I poked the plate a bit and the damn thing just started crawling over my toast. I was hopping from one leg to the other by now, shoving a tea towel in my mouth to muffle my screams and thinking that I would never ever again eat a poached egg.

So, what did I do next?

Now, I apologise to the buddhists amongst us for this but I did a bad thing. I attacked the thing with a load of salt. I just couldn't do anything with it whilst it was still wriggling and by now I was heaving over the sink as it was making me feel so ill.

However, the salt was a big mistake. The flippin ulgly brute then sort of exploded on my poached egg and I couldn't tell where the egg finished and the slug started. By this time I was actually crying with fear and frustration. I just didn't know what to do so I did something rather extreme. I grabbed the plate, kicked the back door open, ran down the drive and hurled the whole plate into the dustbin. I was so relieved when the lid of the bin banged down again that I didn't notice the line of people across the road at the bus stop at first. It was only when I heard the bus rumbling up the hill that I looked up to see half the village seemingly stood at the bus stop. I just waved nonchalantly and tried to maintain my composure as I walked back up my drive in my German Allo Allo pyjama combo.

I am actually surprised that I haven't been labelled the village idiot by my local community. Not a day goes by where I don't embarrass myself hideously in front of someone. It doesn't help that there's a low wall acorss from my house near the lane where everyone congregates to gossip. It's like my house is the main atraction sometimes.

Anyway, am off back there in a minute. Got some more of ST's stuff to sort out and need to get some kip as hardly slept last night. I went to turn on my school laptop and remembered that I had changed the password on the last day of term and could I flippin remember it? Was up til half one in the mornign trying 119 different combinations following the hint which was "trainer boy". Damn him!

He's actually taking me to Birmingham on the train tomorrow to go shopping at Selfridges. I told him I was skint a while back (until ST pays me back - I'm still paying off my wedding dress on my credit card as well as loads of the reception costs) so he says he's going to buy me a few things to make me smile. Awwww, he's lovely.

So, got to nip home so that I'm fit for shopping tomorrow - no yawning in the changing rooms!

So it's bye for now.

Lots of love.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX


P.s thanks so much for all the advice on the house - I'm still not certain about everything but we'll see how it goes. It might not sell anyway which would mean that it wasn't meant to be I guess??