You Don't Drink, You Don't Smoke. What Do You Do?

Another Wednesday, another let down.  Yes, I've failed once more to secure an interview for promotion.  I'm getting rather tired of it all now and have signed up for a 'Ensuring You're Match Fit For Promotion' course which is taking place in June.  Here's hoping that the course leader will be sporting a rather fetching tracksuit and blowing a whistle?  Oh, they won't?  Well, maybe it's this ennui and sarcastic attitude which has got me where I am today.  Nowhere.

I am cheering myself up by watching the fantastic Vintage TV on Virgin Media cable.  Yes, I subscribe and no, I don't watch too much television.  Or maybe I do?  Don't judge me harshly for such a thing.  I have also purchased two spaghetti and meatball meals from the mighty Co-op for the princely sum of £4.  Ooh, the sound of a boat being firmly pushed out.

I'm seeing my friend Emma at the weekend as she's having a 'slumber party' to mark the fact that she purchased a new bed after she turfed her cheating ex-boyfriend out of their flat.  He apparently infested the previous mattress with a plague of pubic lice which apparently he caught off of Stacey Simpson from The Dog and Duck (if the rumours on Facebook are true?)  Nice.

Wilf In Wanstead

Wilf took me out to Wanstead yesterday to 'show me his manor' (his words.)  Since he was asked to leave by the Gants Hill Gang Show he's felt rather reticent about 'going east', but he forced himself anyway.  He allowed me to peruse a selection of amber jewellery in a shop window then we went for a meal in a rather smart brasserie and it was lovely.  If Wilf's conversation was 56% more interesting then he'd be a great catch for any discerning lady.  After eating we went for a long walk over Wanstead Flats - he'd looked up a selection of facts in The Illustrated History of Redbridge and proceeded to regale me with them in a monotone voice.  Hmm.

Unfortunately (for him, not for me) he had to travel east to visit his mother; for my part, I headed west and changed at Stratford.  The top deck of the bus home after the DLR stank of body odour, but that's modern living for you.  I was very pleased to have the flat to myself for the evening and watched another of BBC4's excellent music documentaries.  I seem to recall that the late Mr A used to enjoy those too.  Sigh.  Mind you, the culinary perfection of a Vesta Chow Mein meal and half a frozen Black Forest Gateau made me feel happier.  I'll aim to walk off the excess calories tomorrow.  

Sundays Are Sacred

Are they really?  Well, in my case, not at all.  Well, at least Wilf has been granted at least one day away from the horrors of dealing with his Mother.  I think that I introduced you all to the delights of Wilf's parents, Simone and David, back in 2010, but if you need reminding, here's the blog entry -  http://publicsectormargaret.blogspot.co.uk/search?updated-min=2010-01-01T00:00:00Z&updated-max=2011-01-01T00:00:00Z&max-results=50

Yes, they were once both nudists, but alas no more.  David left Simone back in 2012 after meeting Patrizia, a half-Italian, half-German new member of the Buckhurst Bucknaked Church and decamped abroad with her and together they created the Euronudistcolony just outside of Dusseldorf - you may have heard of it?  It was once featured on The One Show if you're interested and yes, Gyles Brandreth does were boxer shorts with examples of the ursine genus emblazoned on them.  Years after the demise of his Teddy Bear Museum.

Well, Simone had an accident back in 2014 whilst she was cleaning the Vicar's Ford Focus - apparently she slipped on some errant suds and damaged various vertebrae in her back and therefore she's pretty much housebound these days.  Luckily they were already living in a one-storey prefab in the middle of Epping Forest, so there weren't any stairs to contend with, but Wilf is expected to drop everything and drive over to sort out various crises which arise.  She has a carer who comes in twice a day and another son, William who lives in nearby Harlow, but he's flip all use.  Will-I-Not as I call him, is a lazy scrote, lives on state benefits and spends most of his time hanging around bookies with his mate 'Lucky Lee'.  Lee obtained this nickname by winning first prize in the Dog and Duck meat raffle back in 2002 and the moniker has kind of stuck with him ever since.

Will departed for Essex about an hour ago now - Simone's toilet has apparently backed up again.  Nice.