My arse can’t behave even for the jubilee

So the other day was the Queen’s Diamond Jubilee pageant. A fantastic spectacle. I’ll admit it, I am a royalist like it or not, I know people sit there and say they don’t do anything and they cost us loads of money as taxpayers but you know what, I’m not even going to get into it. I could sit here and argue about it all day but you know what, if you don’t like it, fuck off! I love the royal family and happen to think they are a fantastic bit of cultural heritage and tradition. So I like many, the other day sat at home with my mother and a few of her friends, and sipped bubbly and watched the festivities on TV. My mother loves an excuse to put up decorations. Christmas, Halloween, Jubilees. I’m sure she’d put up bunting everyday of the week if it wasn’t socially frowned upon. When it gets round to Christmas my house looks like a fucking grotto, I am slightly surprised we don’t have kids knocking on the door asking if they can see Mr Claus.

So the queen has managed to hold down her job for the last 60 years cracking effort on her part! My god do her and Phillip look good for their ages, I reckon they’ve got a good few years left. I was having a lovely say today, enjoying the jubilee and eating nibbles and having a glass of two or champagne, at which point my dad rings and I arrange to meet him in the local round the corner for a quick pint. So I think I’ll just quickly nip to the loo before I leave, more out of habit than necessity. It was at this point the world decided to fall out of my arse. Now my big problem is I have a very long and narrow stricture (narrowing). So imagine if you will trying to squeeze a large lump of cold hard blue tack through the eye of a needle. This is what I attempt to do every time I go to the loo. It is horrendous, I’m either going to black out or go blind soon from straining so hard. YAY for graphic cringe inducing details. Bad days like that and I am positively looking forward to the surgery.

 

 

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