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

A calamitous life

Well, The Fates have saved me from 2 great and foolish plans. The first to become a police officer (what would even possess me to think a hippy stand up comedian should even consider this as a viable plan?) and the other was to apply for my former line manager's job. I say 'The Fates' stopped me but, in actual fact, it was my ability to procrastinate to world class standards which stopped me from the latter act of foolishness. I got lost in thought at the money for days before I realised I would have to take responsibility for shit and other people's lives. When I tell you the next set of stuff you will realise that in actual fact The Fates have not saved me, they've saved the world from the cretinous buffoonery that is me; Sketty!

Ok, here's the first. Last week best pal and housemate Steph (for that is her name) decided she wished to decorate her bedroom. I had no intention of doing the same but got carried away when I saw all the paint. She can be a bit slap dash so I was a bit smug when I bought some sugar soap wipes, a selection of various sized rollers and erm, well no cloth 'cause they were a tenner. When I came to do my room, which even I will admit is a pig sty, I couldn't be arsed to tidy it up first - for godsake! I've got a life to live, I don't have 3 days to clean up my shit first! Anyhoo, I decided to use an old duvet cover as a sort of ground sheet (I bet that's not what they're even called) so I wiped the wall down (well done, me!) and wrestled the lid off the paint tin. As I was doing this properly and better than Steph was going to do her room I figured I'd use the paint on the lid with a brush to 'edge' the ceiling and door frame. Of course, it was important to move the paint container out of the way at this point. The Fates who like to yank my chain aren't getting me THAT way, oh no siree! I picked up the paint by the metal handle (which had another little turny thing around it) and watched in horror as the turny thing shot to the other end of the handle and I ended up pouring almost a whole pot of paint all down my front and over a chunk of my carpet. Calamity One. Oh yeah, Steph painted her room all gothic-y and had no accidents. I hate people who spoil my smuggery by being better than me.

The next calamity happened this evening. Housemate Steph popped out to the corner store and I chose to take a bowl of water out of the turtle house and clean the filter which was no longer chucking any water out. I had carefully put the big bowl on the floor and stepped over it to unplug the filter, thus kicking the whole fucking thing over (sorry Pepys - bet you never swore in your diary. Note to self: find out if Pepys used profanity in diary). We have wooden floors and I swear there were WAVES in the gigantic flood I had created. I ran to get a dry towel off the washing line and tried to mop the flood up before Steph got home. As I ran through the house with the sopping wet towel hoping to wring it out to have another go before Steph arrived I actually dragged the flood into the hallway and the kitchen. My pajamas were soaked, my socks were soaked and rather than clear up my mess quickly I dragged it around the house. Steph arrived back and apart from just weakly repeating '4 minutes, I've only been gone for 4 minutes', she was struck dumb in horror. She was even more pissed off 'cause this morning she'd mentioned we had no clean towels and had washed all the ones I eventually had to use to mop up the water and turtle shit flood. I take cretinous buffoonery to new and humiliating levels. I find that whenever I'm trying to be most careful that is when I'm at my most clumsy.

Ho hum. Two saves and two fails - thanks Fate