The lord wept while mothers cried tears that ran down gutters… cows milk turned sour and the sky grew dark prevent the sun from setting . The earth became a pestilence and the council of angels mocked the devil as abhorations beyond the wildest imaginations roamed the streets and roads of the cities . As fathers tucked their infants into their beds they described one of natures most fear chimera… The man with the long arms ….. sorry for the drama but this is what I was faced with when I approached one of our more prominent charity shops to explain that I was some sort of genetic mishap and perhaps might I change my shirt for one with sleeves that fitted.
This shop has been happily seeing me vest in my new XL format and we have been happy with each other . yesterday I attempted to purchased a shirt all fine… XL all fine …£2.75 an egyptian cotton yves saint laurent no less ….. this morning like most mornings I check in our rather fine vanity mirror…. to check nothing had grown or fallen off … to the uneducated eye it all looked fine …ears were looking a bit low but that might have been a trick of the light ….. I was not prepared for the next series of unfortunate event …. on went the shirt grand ….except for the arms they were curiously long this morning …not wanting scare anyone I hummed to myself and switched shirts …. there was a definite difference in shirts …” XL with extremely short arms ” is what it did not say …. so after my roobush tea and several attempts to meta tag something I march ed down to …. the aforementioned …. The nice man recognised me and declared there should be no problem…..den ..den .den!!!!!! this is the moment when of course there is a problem .. the supervisor could be heard ” What he has got long arms that not our fault !!! tell we are awfully sorry but we cant refund because his arms are to long ..ask him to come back in an hour and say “it doesnt fit and dont mention his arms …its problematic….!!!” For those who have read of my encounters this sort of talk does not bode well ….
So there we were a friday afternoon and in popped an e-mail looking for possible things in portland …so off i popped and discovered an awful tragedy in a fantastic tragedy …sadly 260 lives were lost but on a good note what a glorious tale of adversity and I wonder if they remember the elephant that washed up on the shore that same night ….yes i know noone else knows about it but so what … the plop thickens
To help the reader i must give a brief foundation or root cause to some of this waivering from what people call reality …in truth everything in this blog and the facebook updates are actually true but remarkably sound untrue ….. as they say look at the child and you will see the parents… my father is a very highly educated man but lacks a braod imagination my mother wont let us know if she was educated but the evidence points to a very active imagination …. throughout our lives my father like some innocent missionary trying save doomed souls would in fact tell us numerous truth..he has an extraordinary understanding of the facts and as children he would sit in his study and explain the world as he saw it and then point to the numerous books to back up his propositions. . in the dark light of his study six children would stare back at him in total disbelief…we knew he knew we did not accept any of it …..we would turn on our heels and slam the door firmly shut leaving him to reconsider the facts as he saw them….. my mother however with no ground to stand on would explain that she went out with the fifth Beatle possibly dated jimmy connors the tennis player….crows were responsible for missing items of clothing, she was able to talk to bees ,joey the robin lived in our garden for at least 17yrs and follwed us throughout three subsequent moves, all black and white telly programmes were suitable ,it was colourtelly that did most of the damage and all manner of harmful instructions regarding salt and vinegar crisps.. the list went and so long it was that it is embedded in our heads….again faced with post enlightenment reason with scholarlly support or pre-christain nonsense we went choose my mother path to truth….. and this is where the tricky bit was i believe my mother was suspicious of the truth and that it indeed would lead to underdeveloped minds she felt if a child handed over their child weary clothes to be washed and the child believed that perhaps these items might end up at the bottom of the garden buried among the leeks …this child believed would be better equpped for a world that only had just come to terms with one moon landing … the truth she said was more trouble than it is worth and how was she to know how the crows managed to get a shovel dig a hole and only bury trousers….all she knew was no one had a better explanation had they !!! still glad to have reached our early teens we learned our father cambridge education was no match for this logic and to this day my mother when challenged about her relationship with the Beatles replies Why do have bring up the past ? and you not happy with the present …..and before you say anything i dont know how they buried your pants .
Brrrrng brrrng ” hello maurice your father just called he says you said you have that Rash!” .Me…”I said nothing of the sort …I asked to him stop talking about auntie eilish everytime I call and I never mentioned that Rash !!! ” Mother ” How bad is it ?” ME… “Very bad he keeps repeating himself and doesnt listen” ……Mother…”I wouldnt put gylcerine on it do you have any yoghurt ? ” Me ..”.I have plenty of yoghurt but I am not putting it on my nonexistent rash !”…….Mother “Oh is that what the doctor said ? ” Me.. ” No he said nothing !” Mother ….”Well he doesnt sound like a very good doctor to me !” Me ” He is a great doctor , I have not spoken to him in weeks “….Mother …”I thought you said he said nothing “….Me” Listen mother you rang me with a basket of nonsense supposedly from dad… there is no rash ..no doctor and no bloody yoghurt going anywhere .”….Mother..”.I thought you said you had lots of yoghurt?” …Me … “Good lord give patience!”… Mother “well maurice, you say you dont have that rash your father mentioned earlier but you do sound a bit itchy ?…
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IS IT OKAY IF I CAN CALL YOU MR OCONNELL? Well I really think we will get on better you you do just that ….Thank You Mr OCONNELL how can I help you ….well it really is very simple …you have my birthdate wrong in my security question and each time you call and ask me my birthdate i ask should i tell the truth or lie …your collegue suggests its against the law to lie and that with recent events escalating basically everywhere it is best not to get into an arguement …..I see Mr OConnell …the problem is we dont know if you are trying to steal an identity …..I am i declare with delight….MY OWN !!! By some twist of orwellian prophesy I am nolonger me …and as you exist in a call centre in marsh barton I cant actually present myself ….Mr OConnell when we stop deny you access to your identity ? ABOUT THREE MONTHS AGO WHEN YOU DISCOVERED I EXISTED THEN I ALL THE PAPERWORK PAUL DECIDED I WAS BORN 3 DAYS BEFORE MY ACTUAL BIRTHDATE ……can you prove this ? Yes very simply ask me birthday very fast …and you will find it is exactly three days after the day which you have in your machine ….silence…Mr OConnell can we call you on your landline ..Great go for it ! Brrrng brrng hello is that you mr oconnell ? Yes it is me !!!!! Can we just go through a quick security check Date of ……………..
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So all the fuss has died down and everyone has forgotten about the roaring and shouting and name calling by me … As I sit down I noticed some change to the layout of The Curator Cafe ….with a word of hesitation I order my americano ….and decide to wait before I speak …. The american writer at the neighbouring table seems tired but suddenly perks up …Dr Guillotine was trying to find the most humane way of executing people ..and removing the head from the body was the best way head in bucket …she beams a smile at everyone …. what is happening? The customers are decidely edgey ….children whisper to their parents Can we get one of those “guilty things” ….I like a nervous outlaw reach for sunglasses and leave without making my excuses …some days its best not …..to even go there …public execution I ask you …in front of children ..I would not get away with it.
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