- Childless 30somethings.
- A life more ordinary.
- Barren and Bitchin.
As Phil Larkin once intoned, “They fuck you up your mum n dad”.
I’d like to extend this a little to: “ And your son and daughter. And your bro and sis. In fact it’s everyone else’s fault.”
This is a blog about four mentally ill 30 somethings who can’t work or seem to grow up, who are lifetime spongers and all they can do is sleep and get pissed. All names have been changed to protect our dignity. But I think the horse has already bolted.
Most days take the same flaccid shape: wake up with cat scratching my face and dog like a sack of sand diagonally on the bed. Let dog out and get breakfast in bed for my lazy girlfriend (Esther) and eat until we feel sick. Watch girlf put makeup on, think about what to wear today (is it going to rain? What if I get cold? etc), laze around watching bbc news and Heir Hunters (what if it was us…?) until time for elevenses (cup of tea and biscuits/cake. Fruit is unlikely). Then it’s time to get dressed, fetch some ‘poo bags’ (Tesco food bags…) get the now whinnying and prancing dog (Goldie, after the rapper) on the lead and head down the hill to girlf’s sister’s house.
We walk down a back road where Goldie can shit, pick it up and shove it in someone’s bin when noone seems to be around. When we get to Lisa’s house, we have to shove Goldie in the door before Lisa’s whippet (Devo, after their song Whip It) tears downstairs and attacks us with licks and pogoing.
After a cup of tea and biscuit while Lisa’s boyf Dom comes round and comes downstairs, we set off with the dog, leaving him to fiddle with endless projects that will never be completed, or to play guitar and/or music so loud he would have an ASBO if the hipster 50something neighbours weren’t his biggest fans.
Highlights (Lowlights?) of last month:
Tues 14th Oct 2010
Lisa came back knackered and grumpy as hell. “I’m writing a blog about all of us” I say excitedly. “What’s the point?” she scowls. “Because we’re unintentionally funny and freakish?”.
Dom was meant to have had a bath and walked the dogs with me. No such luck. “You’re just a horrible person” she says snidely to him. “You’re a horribler person” he repeats back when, a few minutes later she says something deeply disparaging. I thought I’d be brave “shall we walk them together Dom?” Surprisingly he agrees. Although it’s another 30mins before he’s ready, and even then he hovers around the door, dropping plectrums on the floor and leaving the door wide open while he thinks of anything he might have left. “Get Out!” shouts Lisa.
On the walk, Dom confesses that he is worried that he is exactly like the murdering psychopath in the Truman Capote book he’s reading. “He keeps a notebook and writes down the same things as I do, and he thinks the same way”. I say “yes but you haven’t killed anyone”; “Yet” I add under my breath, because if I was to believe the lyrics of his growling murder ballads, he is well capable of strange and unusual punishments.
Wed 15th Oct
When we get to Lisa’s house, she is upset.
“I’ve been crying all night because I’m not a Siamese twin”, she says..
“WTF?!” we chorus.
“The only way you can stop yourself from being so totally alone, and dying alone, is to be joined to your twin. But I’m going to die alone”. She had been watching a C5 documentary about them and decided the conjoined siblings on it didn’t deserve to have a Siamese twin, they didn’t appreciate it properly.
Apparently she had a twin in the womb with her, but he died in there. If she had been a boy, she’d have been called Waldo. So this has become the name of her invisible twin brother. Lisa’s geek alter ego is called Nigel.
Esther’s party trick is to guess what order of siblng you are. She believes that you can tell an only, youngest, middle and eldest child apart easily and quickly. Most people think it’s pseudo-psychic bullshit.
Dom was meant to walk the dogs and meet us in town. He rings up around 3pm “Have you walked the dogs yet?” asks Lisa. “No!”. “Were you hoping that I’d say I’d walk them instead?” she ventures. “NO!” he slams the phone down. That’s exactly what he was hoping.
Later she tells us that she asked him why he is so reluctant to take the dogs on his own- apparently Devo tries to attack Goldie and ends up wrapping his lead around Dom’s legs and he nearly fell into oncoming traffic as a result. He fears for his life. He can’t walk in a straight line at the best of times.
Arrived at Lisa and Dom’s around 1.30pm. They are in bed. “I feel terrible” she moans. “I feel shit too” mutters Dom. “No you can’t be poorly too!” She shouts “I need someone to look after me”.
Just before we got to bed, I mention casually that I want to move all my records up to the study from the dining room. Esther says ‘But what if we have parties?’ We won’t have any more, I reassure. I go to sleep. I wake up half way through the night and girlf is sat up, smoking. “I can’t stop thinking about the dining room” She has planned to fill it with shiny things: a museum of fascination.
To Be Continued….