Anti-Christ Kettner

The conversation kinda went like this:

...Oh, I need to say there is a bit of over-sharing at the beginning and for that I apologise.

...back to the conversation.  It kinda went like this:

ME: Oy, I'm late for my [insert female monthly biological process].  I'm never late so clearly I MUST BE PREGNANT!

Colleague: ...but you haven't had sex have you?

Me:  Well, no but there can be no other explanation can there? Blimey, I'm actually going to be a Mother!

Colleague: ...so are you telling me it's the Second Coming and that you are in fact carrying the new Messiah or something?

Me: Faaaack, yeah I'll be FAMOUS.......hang on though, isn't the Second Coming supposed to be the anti-Christ?

Colleague: ....erm, I dunno.

Me: I'm almost certain that the Second Coming is supposed to be bad in some way.  It's supposed to herald the end of the World or something........do you think I'd still qualify for Child Benefit?

Colleague: ?

Me: Well,  if I gave birth to a kid who heralded the end of the world I'm guessing everyone would be massively pissed off and I might get denied my rightful entitlements!!!

Colleague: Erm, I don't think the Benefit Agency would be allowed to discriminate and, well,  it would be up to them to prove that your kid was going to bring about the end of the World as we know it.  I'd be inclined to not offer up that kind of information if I were you.

Me: YEAH! ....and if it turns out he's red or something I might be able to qualify for some kinds of disability benefit for him.  How funny would it be to push yer red kid about in a pram and watch all the other mothers and old ladies recoil in horror.  Oh God, I hope he has head horns too, that would be hysterical.

...Of course, at this point I got lost in thought at the prospect of my bald red child.  I kinda hoped he would get the head horns.  Oh God, what if he had HOOVES!  Where would I even be able to get shoes for the poor little fucker, I'd have to get him shod but then Children's Services might have something to say about me getting someone to nail metal onto his feet.  I'm a bit of an old hippy and I'd want to dress my child 'Anti Christ' up in tie dye and ecologically friendly clothing but I guess that'd be a bit of a piss take if he's going to end everything.  There'd be no point in following any worthy causes.  Then again,  me being me I'd probably accidentally instil in him a cracking sense of procrastination and inherent laziness.  I mean, who can be arsed to bring about the end of the world when there are pyjamas to be worn and beds to slob around in.  Ending the world sounds a whole load of energy, planning and evil.  I can do the evil (I had to sack my Lettings Agent recently and I could hear myself being a bastard to him - actually I'll tell you about that in a minute).  So yeah, for all my personality faults I'd actually become the ultimate heroine who does genuinely save the entire planet!  Let no one diss my extreme slobbery, lack of motivation and ability to convincingly look dead when I don't want to do something.  All of this will be YOURS my son!  I hope my inevitable worshippers embrace my bed based philosophy.

*****Ok, quickly - the idiot Lettings guy - let's call him Jonathan, has taken 2 months to tell me that people like the size of the upstairs of the house but think the downstairs is too small.  He didn't seem to get it when I pointed out they are exactly the same fucking size.  Anyhoo, I returned to the house which is on the other side of the country to me only to discover huge spots of black oil all over the newly cleaned carpet.  I called him up

"Jonathan, I don't know who you've been showing around my house; the fucking Tin Man or some kind of leaking Android but there is black oil all over the carpet and I'm actually livid"

"Erm, it was probably a bird which had flown down the chimney"

"What, and then it flew vertically back up again?  Stop shitting me Jonathan"

The upshot was he tried to blame some mystery person who might have had keys to the place.  That person could only have been me as there were no other keys out there.  Why do people try to treat me like I've had a brain injury?  Sorry, did I pull up in a Sunshine Coach and start licking the windows?  No, so take your fucking sign down and give me the keys back.  The new Lettings company have found someone within a week.  (shakes head in wonderment)


and that's it.  Oh yeah, I wouldn't REALLY call my son 'Anti-Christ'  He'd definitely get beaten up every day at school and that might fill him with a feeling of rage and vengeance which might undo my laziness training.  I'd probably call him Trevor.  I don't like the name but you would NEVER read about an evil entity called Trevor

Star Trek and other inappropriate musings

So, I share a house with a sci fi 'anorak' which translates as  sci fi dork.  She particularly loves Star Trek Next Generation and it has become apparent that I have absorbed some of her 'anorak-icity' through some sort of osmosis. I'm guessing I've accidentally seen too much and have already started to worry and concern myself with stupid crap.  My concerns/thoughts include:

• Worf the Klingon - I was looking at Worf's head arrangement and in particular the great fucking crack thing down the centre of it.  C'mon, that HAS to attract dirt and debris   How does it get clean? It's a pretty tight face crack and well, I guess it can't be easily cleaned which would suggest it spawns bacteria and therefore stinks.  The thought of it and the face-cheese which must grow in it actually makes me feel a bit sick.  He's a big bloke and I've already inappropriately thought about the enormous Klingon dick he probably has but hell, who wants that when his face stinks like sour milk?  Klingon's? They can fuck right off!

• Deanna Troi - a right bleedin' liability!  If anyone is going to become possessed, and she is pretty much possessed every week,  and try to kill the rest of the crew it's going to be her.  I'd tell her to fuck right off if she tried to counsel me. Her boobs are too hard and sticky out any way.

• Being a general pleb on board - Every. Single. Epsiode the ship ends up going to red alert with all the alarms going off.  I recently got lost in thought wondering how I would feel as just a general worker pleb type crew member wandering around doing shit low level work on board.  Every other fucking day the alarm goes off - you'd be a nervous wreck wouldn't you?  I'd be weeping like a shitty baby, my hand would be a claw, I'd be bald and I'd be too terrified of the Ship's possessed counsellor to get any therapy.  I suspect I wouldn't be cut out for Star Fleet.  I could hear my pitiful voice whining  "....fucking hell, the alarms are going off again" and then picturing myself running up and down the corridor screaming that we were all about to die. Of course, I'd have been wrong - the new bloke on the Bridge would die and everyone else would be safe.  Fuck, that's one promotion you wouldn't want isn't it?

In other inappropriate musings, I was advised, at 8:34am that I had dried dinner on my clothes.  There's nothing like caring about your appearance eh?  Later on, as I was fuelling my car, I noticed the CCTV and started to worry about how I would look on the news if this was the last sighting of me.  The sci fi anorak would have to give a description of me to police which would include food stained clothes and an over-sized Parker coat which makes me look like I'm off on a polar expedition.  When they find my body they'll also discover I am wearing Cookie Monster drawers.  I would go down in history not as a sexy young thing but as a fucking Crazy Cat Lady in the making.  I then worried about what the Coroner would list as my stomach contents and wondered whether it would be read out in the Court - I'd chewed up a false nail and eaten the dried glue, I'd also eaten part of a plastic robot, crisps, goats cheese, cake, sweets, diet coke (how dare I?) and some porridge.  Fuck me, if it's found that I hadn't been murdered it would most likely be registered that I'd died of fucking Scurvy or Ricketts.  A shameful and pitiful diet.  When I got home I ate some lettuce just so they'd find SOMETHING green inside me.  Of course, I hope I don't end up murdered or dead in a weird and bizarre manner but you have to be prepared.  I'll tell you about my hiding places should an armed madman burst into the house next time.....