You’re chasing the moon, reaching out to touch the stars.

But you land too soon, What will it take to make you see the way things really are?, you’ve got this far so, let it happen.

Now theres a blast from the past. i haven’t done a song title poser for a while, but if you know the song then you will sort of have an idea of how today actually went for ‘lil ole me.’ Let me regale you with a tale of peril, danger, loss, courage, overcoming adversities and so on and so forth. actually started out quite good. my alarm shrilled its lungs out waiting for me to beat it into submission (one day it will fly out the window) i made myself some food (did i tell you I’m cooking on gas????) although this morning was toast (funny how you really fancy something like this, then remember you haven’t taken it out the freezer) so breakfast was a success, and so to put my kit in a bag ready for the Referral for fitness later in the afternoon. (see planning ahead as i wasn’t going to come home until the evening)

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i decided to call into my Pappies on the way down to pick up my sisters car then saunter around buying a surf board (oh ok an ironing board) but how cool (and useless) would that be in the middle of Asghanistan? he seemed in good spirits (although a little Doc Emmit Brownesque as i walked in and caught him before he had brushed his hair) a chat about the days events and the strange events of the past evening for him and i was off on my mission to TWOC me sisters car (now if you don’t know what TWOCing is, then go find an adult who grew up in the eighties and nineties. As the day was nice and bright and sunny and right, the deployment of my shorts was a godsend. (i can’t be doing with me trollies riding up me backcrack in this heat wearing jeans) the car was there, the keys were there, the time to use the phone was opportune so i had a seat and rang the Government.

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Why oh why does one put oneself through such purgatory? “if you are calling about………..” it goes on and on and on, then it tells you that there is a cheaper number to dial.WHO MAKES THESE RULES?. if there is a cheaper number, for Christ sake, just use it in the first place. Im guessing anyone wanting to ring the ESA hotline isn’t a multi millionaire from a friggin Den of Dragons. In fact make it free you robbing bastards. Anyway, after what seemed like an Eon later (I re- shaved…my eyes) I had decided that I had had enough of the elevator musak they play to annoy you so you hang up or use the internet (where no one actually sees it and any decision is automatically decided upon because of the area you reside) Too Harsh?? It was time to get in the car.

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Guess the car. well its not the one i drove. i am what Jeremy Clarkson would call “A Christian motorist”, its my sisters Citroen and she needs it so i treat it with kindness and consideration. people have actually “Bibbed” me on the main road for going too slow (boy racer cars are fun, but this is Lilac) my appointment with my local GP was made and i thought the route to the nearest big town of any worth was going to be easy. I pulled the car around in a circle to do a ‘U’ turn and a strange noise emanated from the front.I looked quizzically at myself in the mirror and thought I must investigate, driving the full ten yards to the roundabout everything was fine, Mirror, Signal, Manoeuvre (i remember Mr Molehusband or whatever the bald guy was called) after completing my right turn at the roundabout, i felt a strange wobble on the steering. immediately i employed the hazard switch and SLOWLY, (oh my good god ever so slowly ) toward the curb. busses, cars, lorries, jets, tall ships EVERYTHING was on the road today, and behind me. To be honest, i didn’t care. I needed to find out what the deuce was going on.

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Thats not it either (and before anyone complains that showing the numberplate could be construed as a privacy violation, i don’t care!) Getting out and onto my hands and knees (after kicking the wheels to see if they were loose) i found that the nearside wheel had indeed turned me into the curb parking space, while the offside still pointed straight ahead. (even i know thats not right) so putting all safety points aside, i lay in the road with my head sticking out into the traffic and gave it a wobble. the off side (drivers side) wheel casually turned left and i noticed it wasn’t actually attached to the output shaft. (thats definitely not good) so what a to do i was in. i couldn’t drive anywhere so i need to inform the occupiers of the houses i parked outside that the car wasn’t abandoned (well it was, but not forever) the TV sets were both on, but no one was home.Bugger it, i now need to tell the actual owner of the car…..ME SISTER.

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Could have done with that (a bit of free advertising there for Mr Crouch) She actually didn’t take it that bad to be honest (but that was her at work being nice i suppose) so i wandered to a local garage and explained my position handed over the keys and rang me dad. bless him he helped me out no end, (a fact that i may seem to take lightly, but i would shower him with presents if i could) Blyth for a notice board and a planner (Because my memory is shit) a cup of coffee and a slice of ‘pink’ cake. back to Ashington and a beasting in the Gym. the young lady there is built bigger than some of the PTIs i met in the Army (i had no choice but to join in the jumping around marching and flailing my arms about) after an hour i was crippled, but still another hour was to be done in the weights room (i done me shoulder in with those last week) but i persevered and did the whole session. a breather and a slow SLOW walk along the main street brought me to the outrageous sight of a young heavily pregnant girl PUSHING a pushchair (full of child) smoking away like a trooper (Yes Troopers smoke AND swear) i shook my head in disbelief and carried on my day

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(Nearing the end). As i realised i still had missions to complete (am i playing COD?) i skipped past the garage that was going to pick up the car and BACK to my sisters house to pinch her bike for an hour, i said hello to her dog (Ted is such a happy soul, except when i don’t pat his head then he gets all depressed, honestly, with me and him in the same room its pityfull, truly pitiful.) so off i rode on my way to pick up three quotes for carpet fitting for the Royal British Legion (RBL). The chain came off, my mirth was waining and the happy demure i was sporting started to crumble into a pile of ash. I was filthy, sweaty, red and out of breath by the time i reached the first place. the rest was a blur. an hour after setting off, i was back with the bike and patting Teds head, then a walk back to pappies to collect the stuff i had purchased from Blyth. 

Ill leave this Novella right there as it could go on for hours. AND IT DID. needless to say the car hasn’t been recovered, but i got my three quotes and i now feel fitter, knackered but fitter. i really hope you look after yourselves and others as no bugger else will.

Published by dec247h

Ex soldier, father, party girl and generally nice guy taking time out to do as he pleases! one day i will make it back to the UK, but i aint in a hurry!

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