Sunday 15th November
So, tonight (or last night depending on when this is put up) I took Amy to the cinema. On the advice of a twitter twatter we went to see, ‘The Men Who Stare At Goats’. Personally I think it probably would be better to watch something slightly more TO DO WITH SEX when you’re taking a girl to the cinema, and maybe a little less TO DO WITH ACID-SCOFFING HIPPIES WHO KILL GOATS WITH THEIR MINDS, but hey, you can’t have it all in this life.
It was after a weekend of complete disaster, both emotionally and physically. The evil brats were on top form, one of them telling me I smelt “like burnt eggs” approximately 2 seconds after I had stepped through the front door. I mean, I don’t even know how you could actually burn eggs, let alone what they would smell like, thus satan’s minion 1 hit a double whammy of pain – not only did I smell like shit, but also a small child was more of a culinary expert than me. Skinny bitch obviously also recognised his Fucking Ramsey Gift, as she cocked her head to one side and said, “oh darling, now that’s not nice is it? [In other words: I have to put on a show of sticking up for this teenage git in order to ensure old ronald mcdonald keeps us in gold burgers, but as you can tell from this nasty smirk I can't quite wipe off my face, YOU are the winner here]“. It only got worse. After Dad wrapped me in a hug so tight and twitchy I feared his polyester trousers might catch fire, he did that holding me at arms length, “let me have a look at you properly our kid” thing. I waited for a barrage of compliments and wise phrases, but instead he said, “Now tell me honestly, are you smoking weed?” My reply? ”I fucking wish”. He frowned for moment, but then decided as ‘weekend dad’ it wasn’t worth exploring further and ‘ruining our day’ so he just tussled my hair (like I was a fucking dog), smiled at skinny bitch and said, “Now we’ve got to go out tonight and tomorrow night, are you OK to babysit?”
I looked all around the room for some Norwegian au pair, or Russian nanny, but no. There was no timid matron nodding at his words, he was of course talking to fucking me. Oh yeah, thanks dad! God it is so great to see you too! Yeah can’t WAIT for all this quality time we’re going to indulge in. Let’s make some real fucking memories eh? Proper ones, not the bullshit ones I make with mum (or as I call it, REAL LIFE), but glossy, football, man ones. Huh? What? You’ve got to pop out for both the evenings we would spend together? Noooo that’s FINE, yeah of course I understand! I’ll just assume you give two shits about me, don’t feel like you have to actually prove it or anything.
I felt like a common whore as he pushed the folded up twenty in my shirt pocket, and then went to stand with his other family. His perfect 4 way of family bliss. I stood there looking at them, my hair a mess, my bag falling off my shoulder, smelling to high heaven of burnt fucking eggs.
So that was basically the format for the rest of the weekend. We all went out to the park on Saturday so the minions could feed the ducks (I was so tempted to push them in I couldn’t remove my hands from my pockets the whole time we were there, thus encouraging some “look at that pervert” glances from grey old ladies), then they disappeared for the night while I sat staring at the TV as the minions did whatever the fuck they wanted around the house.
Anyway. The impact of this draining weekend on my date with Amy was actually pretty positive. I was so exhausted by having to play along with Ronald McDonald et al, that by the time it came to meet her, I didn’t have the strength to be nervous, let alone fuck it up. She’s fucking amazing. I take back anything I ever said implying she was vapid, or lame, or a bitch. She’s not, she’s funny and fucking hot, and she actually bought my ticket, “so I would have to take her out again to pay her back”.
Err…Incredible. We kissed and shit, for those who want details I’d say fuck off…
Put it this way, she’s as hot in the face as she is all over. I know, I’ve seen it. Down the alley next to the Odeon. We would have probably gone further if she hadn’t got scared she’d seen a rat. That’s actually more details than I intended to give.
SO yeah, I’m pretty fucking excited. Only thing is (argh god I hate even writing this), I am pretty sure (I know for definite because she told me) that she had sex with her last boyfriend, some 20 year old twat (what kind of 20 year old goes out with a girl who’s 17?!) and I am slighty (very) worried that I won’t measure up.
I’m gonna start watching porn everyday to prep myself. That was a joke (kind of).
