R.I.P. snappy and spotty

*long winded ramble*

I would like to take this opportunity to reflect on the recent passing of the only other males in this house which were our goldfish spotty and snappy. l went away for one weekend on a stag to return to be told that the two lads were "sleeping with the fishes". 

Since the day they were brought home they were fed twice by the children and then of course for the following 12 months I had to feed them. Goldfish are for life and not just for Xmas people.

In this mad house of women the 2 lads were always there for me in the corner of the kitchen always listening to me and never judging me and they always give me encouragement to keep going and never give up as I buttered round after round of toast and filled the dishwasher etc etc. I laughed and cried with them and I miss them terrible.

The 2 lads always loved oldies and Irish in particular on Sunday mornings with me and even Derry O Callaghan read out a text I sent one Sunday for me and the lads.

Snappy was the quiet one while spotty to be honest was a bit thick but you had to love him. He could swim away happy out for hours and hide in the castle from snappy. They were happy fish and never a bother to anyone.

When I pass that empty tank I well up and think of the good times at 3am just checking in with the lads and they always listened. No problem was to big or 2 small for them and they would blow a few bubbles of laughter when I'd tell them a joke.

I was going to involve the Gardai as I believe they may have been starved on purpose as our pet history isn't good. We had 2 kittens called Alfie and George and they never worked out. Alfie had a nervous disposition and ran away. Poor fecker was ruined with nerves and then our neighbours catknapped George who we rarely see now apart from when he kills a rat.

To think my gang here want a dog is frightening. They couldn't even feed poor snappy and spotty for a few days.I like to think that snappy and spotty are now in pet heaven with lassie and shergar having the lols and smoking cigars and playing poker or bingo laughing it up.

I took snappy and spotty down to the trees in the back garden to bury them and I played their favourite Diana Ross album to send them off and scattered what was left of the fish food over them.I thought the girls might be upset when they found out but Mia just said we can get more and not to be sad while Ellie the super thug just roared at me to get milk.I'll see ye on the other side my fishy friends.

Rest in peace spotty and snappy.

Parental Control Setting Pt. 2.

*long winded ramble* 

Well in part one we learned that Kids are essentially small idiot versions of yourself so here are a few more of my top tips to dealing with the mini-me muppets.We covered subjects like brain washing,emergency nappies,toy recycling and disraction techniques in part one and tonight I will touch on subjects like car etiquette,bribery/decision making,reverse psychology,playing dead and a few more. 

7.Bribery/decision making.This will obviously be a natural trick that parents have used for hundreds of years. You want the Child to do something but it won't do it so you bribe it with sweets or give it a choice to make.However I find parents only use this very sparingly when things are getting out of hand and they are under pressure.I use it for everything and use it every 5 minutes.

If Mia wants to stay up another 5 minutes then she gets no bed time story. If Mia wants to go to the playground then she better clean up the toys. This works for my poor soft hearted Mia very well and she understands the concept of bribery/decision making. However Ellie the super thug baby will simply have none of this bribery nonsense. If Ellie wants to stay up for 5 Mins then she is staying up I can tell you. If Ellie wants to go to the playground then you are going to the playground or suffer the worst earth shattering ,teeth grinding,exorcism scream and sturn face you have ever seen. Moral of the story here is Mia is a big wuss idiot softy like her dad and Ellie is (how do i put this)like her wildchild Mam. 

8.Cars can be very difficult for parents and there can be a lot of hassle in the car so get your car etiquette right. Always give them something to do or eat or drink in the car to start with. Make sure any food or drink they get are the exact same as if one child has something different to the other child then you know full well one child will want what the other has. This is your fault and not the childs. You are an idiot. 

If child A has a broken glass full of razor blades that is on fire then child B is going to want it regardless. Remember, they are also idiots. Always answer the Queations no matter how many times they ask. If you fawn them off with "I'm driving sweetheart so stop asking me questions" then they will be crying in minutes and kicking the seat and each other etc. and driving you nuts. I once answered 62 straight questions from Mia until she was a dribbling wreck and her brain had melted. 

Play "I spy" but give them something they will never ever guess. They keep asking is it this or that and all you have to do is say no over and over and enjoy the radio. Even if they guess it say no.!When they do get really irritated then pull out the big guns and promise them something huge that you were probably going to do or give them anyway. 

An example of this is to make a big huge circus type fuss,get all hyper and say in a dopey loud voice "who wants to go to the playground?". The dopes will instantly forget why they wanted to kill each other and be giggling like fools but you were going anyway so the joke is on them. If it gets very very bad then pull over but say nothing. Look out the window and sit there in silence. They dont know how to cope with that at all. It will take up to 5 minutes and they will be roaring crying and asking why you are stopped etc. but you will be amazed at how quick they stop crying because they have seen a butterfly or a dog out the window. 

I know im repeating myself but never forget they are idiots.Another good one if they are tense and narky is to roar "there is nanny over there" and point and then they forget what was going on while they look for fake nanny. 

The simple thing to remember for any car journey short or long is to start out well. Be on time and allow for the fact that they are stupid small people. For example if you need to be at dancing or football at 5.30 pm and the drive takes 10 minutes then 5.15 is not enough time to get them into the car unless you want world war III. You know full well the dopes wander aroound like people on LSD most of the time so at 4.45 you need to start telling them you will be leaving shortly. 

They will need 5-10 minutes to stop playing whatever they are playing.Its now 4.55 and you think you have loads of time but its going to take another ten minutes to get starskey and hutch into coats or jumpers etc. Make them go to the toilet also at gunpoint if neccessary. It's now 5.05pm an out to the car you go.Then it's another ten minutes to get them into car seats as they jump around thinking the car is brilliant and dad cant catch us. 

Eventually you get going for 5.15 the time you originally thought was alright to leave. If you do try leave at that time then you should expect WWIII and it would be your own fault. 

8.Reverse physcholgy is self explanatory as well and a very handy technique that works very well with decision making and bribery.Simple examples are: "I would love to go upstairs to make a camp but we can't as we have to put all these toys away and get into our pj's first and i cant be bothered". My girls turn into Usain Bolt if you pull this trick. You can also say "Its an awful pity ye didn't finish dinner and that ye won't stop moaning because I was going to call over to Aunty Aimee's for a cup of tea". For safety reasons you would want to actually get out of the way after saying that one because it's like a stampede then to get to the car with beans on toast everywhere. 

9.Playing dead! This one is much the same as pulling over the car. If you are all out of tricks and they are driving you spare and nothing seems to work then I'll always have playing dead in my pocket and it never fails for me but then again not everyone can managhe to block out the pain and noise of screaming or fighting kids. 

If it's all too much and you can feel the pulmonary embolism starting then just lay down where you are either on your back or on your front and literally go to another place and completely detach and withdraw. It's amazing there. Nine times out of ten if i use this im normally singing "heal the world" by wacko jacko as its just perfect for the occasion. If you sing a little bit of it there in your head you will see what I mean.

Take the 5 mins out on the floor and if they still havent come around then it's time to get a grip and show them who is boss. Drop kicks,judo chops and headlocks are all acceptable at this stage but go with bulging eyes and big deep breaths before the physical stuff as that will hold up better in court. 

10. General tips! This last one is just a few short tricks that most of you know but I like them and use them a lot. Play hide and go seek with them but obvioulsy don't find them at all around the house. You can get 4-5 mins a time watching the sports news with that one but you have to constantly shout,"I wonder where ye are?" about every 30 seconds. When they say it's your turn to hide you can say "I'm too big to hide so ye go again" and off they will trot again. 

Play hot and cold as well.Same idea! Tell them you have hidden a toy in the room and they have to find it and you say hotter/colder etc. Really hide the fecking thing like so the dummies cant find it.Just as they are about to get bored 7 or 8 minutes later show them where it is and tell them they did a great job finding it and clap very loud. Even though they didnt find it they are delighted enough to play again while you get another ten minutes of flicking through the channels (unless jane is around like). 

Building  camps is number one for getting 20 minute off.Pile the cushions and throws etc. up and build a small two bed apartment out of it and they will sit in it twiddling their thumbs like dumb and dumber for half an hour and leave you in peace. 

I'll leave it at that folks. All or none of this may or may not have happened. This is a disclaimer. Terms and conditions apply. No children were harmed in the making of this blog.Not physically anyway! 

On a serious note all kids want is your time. It's more precious than any one thing you can give them and far more valuable. It's also irreplaceable so everytime you chose to do something else over spending time with them is time you can never get back.One day they will grow and leave. Then again maybe that's heaven for some people.

We spend the first 3 years of our children's lives wishing they would walk and talk and we spend the next 10-15 telling them to sit down and shut up.

Heal the world..... Make it a better place...for you and fore me and the entire  human race.....

Parental Control Settings Pt 1.

*Long winded ramble* 

I'm not an expert on any subject and certainly not on how to be a good parent. I would never ever criticise the rules,regulations or controls another parent puts on their children and with that in mind I beg of you not to take my parental advice and tips to the gardai or the social services as I'm quite sure some of what I am about to tell you is illegal or at the very least cruel to children. 

All I know about children and their care is to keep them warm,keep them fed,keep them safe and keep them happy. The rest I'm afraid is a load of bullshit until they can learn for themselves but as i said if you want to read 50 books, feed your child wheatgrass or do what your mother,sister or uncle buck does then thats fine by me. I have 2 girls who I would (and probably will in 15 years)die for. My eldest disappointment is 4.75 years old and my youngest disappointment is 3 next week.

It's not possible for me to even attempt to tell you what to do with a moany 8 or 9 year old or a teenager as I don't have one so I'm only offering survival advice to anyone with kids my age and in particular girls. Im a child myself with the mental capacity of a 4 year old so I like to think I know what the fuckers are thinking.I've been around longer then them and have a lot of experience as a 4/5 year old myself.

The main advantage I have over dumb and dumber is my patience.I've got it in spades despite being a noisy and annoying fecker as most of you know. I can count on 2 fingers the amount of times the kids have gotten into my mind and won the battle of wits causing me to lose it. If I lose it then they have won and in my eyes the fuckers should never ever win.The shouting and roaring is done by Mammy as she takes over the world with her hoover and cleaning rag. Thats another days work though.

You've got to know your enemy so here are my top tips for those daily situations you come across in the warzone and the battle of kids v parents. 

1. Always remember you signed up for kids and there is no receipt for them. They can't be sent back to amazon so shut your moaning about being tired and being sick of them and that you need a rest or a break.Snap out of your buzz and get on with it. It's their world and you only live in it.Your life as you know it is over. Tough!  

2. Always have a spare emergency nappy and always have some emergency wipes. When you buy them in the shop go home and place 2 nappies and some wipes in a different cupoborad so when they take a "barry white" at 11pm at night you are not left without a nappy. You should also do this with toilet roll for the adults as there is nothing worse than having a white knuckler at 7am and no toilet roll. This way you can shuffle to the cupboard for the emergency one that you hid. 

3. Brain wash the dopes!They are essentially small idiot versions of yourself and are open to brain washing especially when they can't read or write or tell the time. An example of this is I always tell Mia and Ellie from 5pm on that it's time for bed. They immediately say; "no dad we want to stay up for another 5 minutes".What you then do is tell them every 5 minutes up until 7pm (real bedtime) that its bedtime until such time as the Brain washing kicks in and their tiny little pea brains snap and they go to bed thinking they have gotten away with it when in actual fact you broke their brain. You can also pretend it's any day of the week you want as they havent a clue about time or days of the week.

4. Recycle the toys and programmes. If you need a breather from playing stupid ass fairy games then get out a bag of toys they haven't seen in a few months. Even if the toys are broken it won't matter. When the new (old) toys fall onto the ground I can personally guarantee they will flock to them like dribbling zombies to check them out leaving you free to have a coffee.This also works with the tv. Put on an episode of soemthing they have never seen before or a new film etc when it's tv time and they zone out and almost try climb into the tv to get to that magical mickey mouse land like 2 hippes on acid. The tv trick also works with Jane.

5.When they are sitting still or playing quietly dont disturb them. Even if there is an imminent gas explosion or ye are due at the airport for a flight do not disturb them. I don't care if the dinner is up or its bath time or they need life saving treatment for a gaping head wound. What kind of idiot parent makes either eye,visual or voice contact with a quietly playing child.Just sit there and enjoy the break and don't speak to them because  as soon as you disturb the losers you will be asked for a drink or something to eat or in my case within seconds you will be having make up applied or playing dollies for the thousandth time. If you are out of the room while they are playing quietly then stay out of it and out of sight. I have often gone out our front door and around to the back door to get to the kitchen rather than letting them see me pass the door and disturb them.If it's raining then I crawl passed the door.

6. Learn what distraction techniques work best for your kids. I find that mine don't tend to bug me if I'm on the phone talking so if you are 45 mins into a puzzle and drawing session then make a fake phone call and talk loud and leave the room. This will buy you at least 15 mins peace and quiet. Another good one is to just get up off the ground from the princess picnic party in a panic and pretend there's is an emergency. They get stunned and speechless by this as if you had tasered them. Again this will get you out of the room for 20 mins to recover. I used to pretend I had hurt my leg or my hand but the freaks copped this and it only led to a game of doctor and i'd get a full examination south Doc style for half an hour.

I've got to go for now as the girls need me to play daddy mountain which is a game where I lie against the couch and they take it in their turns to walk along my legs and up my stomach and chest before eventually standing on my head and shoulders to jump onto the couch declaring they have climbed the daddy mountain. Mia is not to bad but Ellie the thug is rough as a badgers arse and gives you the odd kick or punch in the mouth on the way up. At least when we play this I can watch the sports news in the background as I get pummelled.

Stay tuned for part 2 of my parenting tips where we deal with bribery, bedtime and car etiquette.

Remember kids are muppets but they are your muppets. 

Mickey Mouse part 2

*long winded ramble*

.....I awake at 4am on Sunday morning on the couch with half a take away on the ground (not a good idea with a mouse around) and empty beer cans everywhere. I check my traps in the kitchen and the bait is gone again with no mouse. The hall and front room traps are still in place but bait is not gone. I decide to leave kitchen traps and put lashes of talc down and see where he goes next again. It's 5 am so I go to bed for a bit thinking this mouse does not know who he is messing with.

I sleep for an hour and when I open my eyes the stark reality hits me, my wife and children have left me over the mouse. This mouse has ruined my life and my family. I go downstairs and at least there is progress. There are clear tracks now out around the kitchen and back under the kitchen unit in the corner. That's where the little shit is laughing at me with his gringos all living it up on bacon and peanut butter.

I clean up the cans and I eat the rest of the take away for breakfast (I know I know) and even though Jane isn't here I hear a haunting voice in the background telling me to Hoover. I try not to but I know if I don't Hoover she will sense it in her mothers and get out her voodoo doll and stick pins in me.

Up to super valu I go and then I sit and have a nice few hours watching all sorts on the tv while reading the papers and drinking tea and listening in to oldies and Irish. Still no sign of a trap snapping.The pressure is mounting. I decide he won't come out with me in the house and head to the pub at 1 for a few scoops.

The story is going around the pub like wildfire about mickey and everyone has an opinion. One fella does the scene from jaws where yer man goes " I'll catch your mouse" and another says "we need a bigger trap". It's all good fun but I'm starting to get really worried now that the family are gone for good. 

I go home steamboats and check the traps at around 5 and no joy. I ring Jane and the girls to say come home as this is ridiculous. I'm told it is indeed ridiculous that I can't catch a mouse and that i definitely won't catch him in the pub despite it being part of the plan. Is it not ridiculous to be afraid of a mouse I ask? 

My manhood which is non existent anyway living with 3 sweat shop bosses is now totally gone. Even mickey mouse is more of a man than me! I cry for a bit and then have a good talking to myself. I bait up and put 600 traps,an f-16 fighter jet and the 4th battalion on guard for the night and watch the golf. Maybe mickey is just like me?Maybe he's not so bad?

Monday morning and the bait is gone again so now I know I have a huge decision to make. Do I continue down this route and only see my family at Xmas or do I lie to Jane.Work on  Monday morning is taken up with major mouse discussion. Psychologically at this point I'm close to breaking but on a vote of 6-2 the lads think its best i lie if the mouse isn't dead when i get home.

With the sweat pouring out of me and prayers offered to every religious god that ever existed I go in home to find that mickey had escaped the grim reeper yet again and had consumed another lash of chocolate and peanut butter. Maybe he will get too fat to walk? Not a bad tactic maybe? I sit there staring into space for 30 mins before ringing Jane with an Oscar winning performance telling her I was once again a man and she should never have doubted me. She is thrilled and says she will be home ASAP.

If I thought I would get relief I was mistaken. I have a shower before the Brady bunch arrive home but I am consumed by this dirty lie and all I can hear is the crying game song in my head as I try to scrub this dirty lie away in the shower. What will happen if Micky pops out?I haven't seen him since day one at ground zero but he is there smirking under the sink with a big peanut butter moustache.

Everyday for weeks and months I live this lie now of checking traps and putting more and more devices down to trap him. If the gardai raided the house and saw all the gear they would think they had found a sordid sex dungeon. I'm able to tell Jane I'm leaving them down in case we get more so my lie us in tact. 

We get 50 euros worth of those sonar yokeybobs and plug them in but Mickey Mouse is immune.He keeps getting the grub from the traps. Xmas day comes and goes with me worrying every second of the day he will pop out. 

By the end January  I had given up. Myself and mickey had a new arrangement, If he stayed out of sight I'd keep feeding him and we would live our lives separate. We became friends and mickey had Stockholm syndrome. I now prayed that mickey wouldn't be in the trap in the morning as I didn't want him to die. I felt huge respect for Micky. He had overcome the odds and the cats out the Back to survive.

Then it happened! Like a bolt out of the blue in march.We went away for a weekend and mickey had no food. We arrived back and that night from nowhere out he popped. This time Jane screamed so loud that she broke the sound barrier. before her scream finished she was gone like a usain bolt.

We were back to square one. I got mangled for the months of lies but didn't care. I was relieved that the lie was over. This time Jane would need photographic evidence. My heart was Broken that my good friend (probably the greatest friend I've ever had) was going to be no more.

The old traps had never worked so I went to Callaghans garage for poison and the famous mr C asked if I needed help.I told him how traps weren't working and he asked which traps I had? He said my traps were too big for the mouse and not sensitive enough. He gave me a trap for 50 cent that was barley held together. He told me there was no charge and that if the mouse wasn't caught in half an hour he'd catch it for me. I laughed in my mind  saying he doesn't know mickey like I do.

I go home and I can hardly set the trap with the sadness and I still hope mickey will win. I put it in place. I walk to the front  door heading for a curer.The trap isn't set 50 seconds and I hear it snap but think its just gone off as it had done trying to set it. I go back and look. I fall to my knees and hold my head. My friend, my comrade and the only other male in the house lay in the trap with his head burst open. 

Im devastated! I can't believe  it. I'm a murderer. I'm a sell out. I'm soulless. Why did this have to be they way it was? I take a picture and send it to cruella deville. I'll never be the same again. I sit with mickey as he takes his last breath. I pour a beer and take half an hour to gather my thoughts. I ring cruella and the gimps and tell them it's done.

sometimes as i lay awake in the night I think of mickey. I hope he is happy. I hope he is at peace, I hope he is not alone , I hope.......,,

Will the real Mickey Mouse please stand up. Part 1 of 2.

*long winded ramble*

Did I ever tell you the one about the real Mickey Mouse in our house?

Well it was about 2 years ago now on that fateful cold wintery Friday night when terror in the form of a little field mouse came to visit our calm peaceful house.

Ellie who was only a pup at the time was asleep in her rocking chair and Mia was sound asleep in our bed. It was one of those horrible blustery winter nights that called for a drink and some munchies and a DVD. I was busy as usual rubbing Janes feet and waiting on her hand and foot (literally).We were watching some god awful cop show for the thousand time when I felt Janes legs go solid stiff. She was frozen in pure terror and couldn't scream and covered her face before telling me there was a mouse by the chair. 

I had a look and sure as god the real life Mickey Mouse was peering up at the tv happy as a day is long. He obviously hadn't seen this episode of CSI. Now I panic as well initially in these circumstances until I realise I'm 35 years old and should really have a bottle of cop the fuck on. As I step down the fucker bolts behind the tv.

Jane is now in full stroke and heart attack  mode so I commence CPR on her and clear the foam from her mouth and get her out of the room to safety upstairs away from this vicious killer. I return to find at least the mouse hasn't killed the sleeping beauty Ellie in her chair. Thank god for that! I poke around looking for the mouse but at 11pm on a Friday I'm not overly motivated knowing what will happen next.All four of us stay in the bedroom that night with the door locked and me with the baseball bat to protect my family from imminent death.

Jane obviously couldn't sleep with the trauma and had to be escorted to the toilet and back when needed. She informs me of the survival plan which is basically she is going to go to her mams until I catch the mouse. Going to their mams is the automatic default for any Bennett so this is no shock.

I load up the car at 7am on a Saturday morning and wave them goodbye and start to design my plan to get rid of Mickey. I spend a few hours trying to locate him and see if I can get rid of him without killing him but I realise he is going to have to die. I hate this but draw inspiration from films like Rambo,commando, predator and even caretaker willie in the Simpsons. I need weapons!What would chuck Norris do?

I head to Atlantic homecare and buy an arsenal of traps and sticky paper devices and lay them all out with every type of bait you can think of from peanut butter and chocolate to rashers and jam. At least Mickey will die happy! I spread talcum powder all over the floor to see where the fucker is coming from. Several experts like Johnny the dreamboat and my dad call and we turn the place upside down but Mickey is nowhere to be seen all the while laughing from the shadows.It's like mission impossible at this stage.

I send everyone away and sit there quietly in the house sharpening my hunting knife waiting for the battle. I slow my breathing like a sniper and I wait and wait and wait. No tv on or no food have I eaten for the day. Mickey never shows.This is no ordinary mouse. It's on like donkey kong i tell him. He better be ready.

I go to the Bennett's house to see my children and to inform general Jane Dowling that there is no luck in the trenches with the hunt. She informs me she will not return to the house while Micky roams free and I am destined to spend the night at home.She tells me i will receive a dishonourable discharge if I fail. I pack clothes and necessities for them and bring them to her and I head back to the battle. When I check the traps at home I find the bait gone and no smell of a kill. He is toying with me now.

I decide to make the best of a bad situation and go for a few pints and get a Chinese and watch match of the day in my jocks with no women on my back at least. I briefly toy with the idea of divorce and myself and Mickey living the high life in the house with poker nights and strippers and super sports Sundays but I realise I'd be dead in a week from substance abuse face down in my own vomit.He is trying to get inside my head.The evening is enjoyable but tomorrow Michael mouse must die....... 

Stayed tuned for part two of this epic tale of man versus mouse as its far from over......

The Traveller, Depeche Mode and the snickers.

*long winded ramble*

So one night a few years back myself and my long suffering wife were in town for a night out. It was a rare occasion where I wasn't on the beer but the wife was so I was driving.I have to fill the boredom of no beer always with messing but it had been a slow night. 

About 2am I pile Sheila Joyce into the car to go home and she is happy out singing "you're so vain" by Carly Simon (bless her little cotton socks). She decides she needs chips and I get a handy parking spot by hillbillies on McCurtain street and in she goes to get her chips while I wait with the hazards on. 

While I am waiting there is a knock on the  window and low and behold it's a traveller looking first for a light for a fag and then to know was I going up towards St. Luke's as the hackneys were "fierce busy boss".

I was just about to tell him sod off when I thought of the look on my wife's face if she returned to find yer man in the car. About a week earlier at an underage match  two young travellers were ruining the game and nobody was having an luck clearing them.I offered them 2 euro to go away to the shop and told them they had to fight for it. I wasn't serious but the 11 year old smokey flattened the 8 year old with a punch as soon as the words left my mouth and they left for the shop.I felt very guilty about this and so I felt I'd drop this fella home to redress the balance.

Jane returns to the car to me trying to control my laughter and Billy Bob  in the back smiling away but banned from smoking. He had the fag behind the ear and asks Jane for a chip.She never responded and looked straight out the window. I know I'm dead later but it's just too funny.

At St. Luke's I ask Billy Bob where he is living and he says up another bit. I ask him does he mean Ellis's yard and he says "yes Bigman, thanks Bigman, I won't forget you Bigman.". I turn up the radio and Saturday night by Wigfield is on some channel and Billy Bob tells me he knows all the moves to that one. Poor Jane is ready to gawk as usual from the travelling more than the traveller.

I pull up outside Ellis's yard and Billy Bob asks for a light again but I tell him  the cigarette lighter isn't working. He steps out of the car and it just dawns on me that a new Depeche Mode double CD I bought was on the back seat of the car.

I glance back and notice it's missing and see Billy Bob crossing the road putting it into his jacket.I roll down the window and say: " Where do you think you're going with the CD buddy?". Billy says: "I have no CD bigman". I open the door and step out and call Billy. I tell him in no uncertain terms that if he does not return the CD that I will take it off him and feed it to him. I use a number of other terrible threats (apologise to the wife once more) and Billy Bob realises that I may indeed end up feeding him the CD and decides he was only messing about (seeing as I threatened to burn his house to the axel.)

As Billy Bob is returning the CD and laughing a bit nervously I notice he has a snickers bar sticking out of his top shirt pocket. For some reason (and to this day I dont know why) I tell him I'm taking his snickers by way of compensation for trying to steal from me. He looks on in shock as I take the snickers from him and open it and start to eat it as I get into the car.

I'm awaiting an ear full as I speed off with the poor chap in the rear view mirror but Jane is frozen in shock at the goings on and has lost her tongue.I often think when I hear Depeche Mode of Billy and how he is getting on.I imagine him and his family in the caravan stuck with just Wigfield and Saturday Night dancing around like Graham Norton in that Fr. Ted caravan scene. I feel guilty that I took back the CD as they could all be rocking to Personal Jesus or Master and Servant on the cold winter nights.

Thats the Story of  Traveller, Depeche Mode and the snickers.......

*sorry again Jane.

The God Damn bins.

*long winded ramble*

As requested. An oldie but a goldie.

That moment when you get to bed and realise that you forgot to put the refuse bin out. You lie there thinking somehow it will solve itself and by magic the bin will put itself out dynamo style. You then toy with the Idea that maybe you could survive another fortnight without putting it out. How much is in the bin?How many shitty nappies will Ellie produce in the next fortnight? There is about 5-6 inches of space at the top but will it be enough for 14 days of rubbish again?You still lie there uncontrollably crying and sucking your thumb and hoping your mam might come and rub your face. 

I could easily put it out in the morning as I don't sleep but I know I'll be listening to music when country clean roll up at 6 am. Fuck you country clean you have ruined my life! Maybe 1,000,000 million likes on Facebook will put the fuckin bin out.

Then there is the pain of trying to remember which stupid bin is going out? Obviously they sent me a schedule but its in that drawer that everyone has that is full to the brim of broken pens sellotape and old bits and pieces that you thought you needed to keep. You could go down and search for it but sure then you may as well put out the bin.The shit drawer maybe worth more hassle to you anyway as by now there is almost certainly a family or mice or worse living in there.I wish someone would set fire to that drawer.

I need to go to the toilet now anyway so I may as well put out the bin. Next I decide that there is no need to get dressed as I'm up now and it will only take me 2 mins. I do my number ones and go to the garage and haul the bin to the door. I have an electronic garage door which as a norry I am very very proud of. They said i'd amount to nothing being an idiot yet I have an electronic garage door with a remote control.

As always I put the door up and down a few times as the novelty of having the electronic door never ceases to amaze me.I'm like feckin Mr. Bean standing there in my shorts and barefoot watching the door. Even a NASA space shuttle launch doesn't get me as excited as the door.I focus on the job at hand. I lug the bin up my long drive which is steeper that Patricks hill. It's heavy this week and the smell off it is empty reach invoking. I put it in place and head back down the drive.
                                    
Its about 3am and drizzly so I hurry and then just like that scene in platoon where William Dafoe is running for the chopper and gets milled down with bullets it happens to me as well. I can hear adagio for strings playing in my head as I step barefoot on a medium sized sharpish stone which takes me out like a sniper. I fall in slow motion to the ground just like defoe and again I'm uncontrolavbly crying.Maybe someone will call a nee naw (ambulance) for me. "WWWWWWWWHHHHHHHHYYYYYYYYYY  MEEEEEEEEEE" I shout but nobody cares or is listening. I'm bawling like a two year old again all over the god damn bins.
                                                                       
I hobble inside with a tug in my heart sobbing and asking myself is this what my life is now? Living in fear of the bins every week? There are so many questions! Which bin is going out? Will they ever collect the red bin? When are we getting the new brown bin and what goes in it? I can't do this anymore. I need a bin counsellor and many many sessions.
                                                                                                         
I limp upstairs and throw myself on the bed.I see my life flash before me. Maybe I'm dying from this bin related injury. At least my battle is over for another week but the war still rages on. Ill hear the bin lads empty that damn bin at 6 and then I have a few days before bin fear kicks in again.I start to relax. I start to calm down.

Then as I'm snug as a bug in a rug I go into pure and utter heartattack and stroke mode. I can feel my head going to implode and I cant breathe. I'm in serious trouble. I forgot to close the fuckin garage door...........