Well Gladys survived the trek up to Hull but bloody hell she needs firmer shocks, I was getting seasick going round roundabouts! Worse than Vernie for body roll!!!
Upon arrival at the Parental Units' residence, father crawled all over Gladys, up her skirt and under her bonnet, and announced her to be a decent and worthy purchase for the money. Mother started her unrelenting routine of asking me if I wanted anything to eat, and to this very minute at 2130 hours she is still offering me all manner of foods including chocolate cake and lemon meringue.
"Do you want some cheese on toast"
"No I'm not hungry"
"What about dippy eggs, or I can get a quiche out"
"No I'm not hungry I've eaten already"
"I've made you some chocolate krispies or there's strawberries in the fridge"
"I've eaten mum!"
"But it's teatime now you have to have something"
"What about some soup"
[Rache gives up]
[An hour later the conversation repeats, with varied other foods being offered]
[Said conversation keeps going in a bluescreen of death loop all weekend until my departure]
Then she moans about how she's put on 5lbs in the last few days :-D
Not sure if it's just my parents, but they have a TV in EVERY ROOM of the house apart from the bathroom. And during the day EVERY TV IS SWITCHED on, resulting in a cacophony of mixed TV-noise-blare that makes you dizzy after a few hours. When I go to switch one of the TVs off, despite the fact my mum is upstairs and busy doing something, she gets narky cos I switched the kitchen TV off:
"I was watching that!!!"
"But mum you're upstairs watching it"
"Well if I come downstairs I want to have it on there too"
"Well switch the tellies on and off as you come into each room then, I can't hear myself think!"
"Don't just walk into this house and start trying to change my routines!"
The resulting mixed-TV noise plus mine and mum's bickering (dad just goes into the garage to "fix the car" and escape the yelling) sets off the BLBs (Bloody Noisy Budgies) that my parents insist on keeping as pets. The slightest conversation or TV noise or fart sets them off on their incessant screeching that only ceases when a slipper is thrown at the cage, but resumes about 2 minutes after the missile attack, during the screeching from my mum at me for throwing said slipper at cage. After a prolonged whining session from me, plus the TV being turned up to full volume to drown out the screeching budgies, they are finally removed to an upstairs bedroom, to be kept company by another TV blasting at them that they can screech at till their hearts content. Ohh to be back home with my quiet ratties!!!
We sat and watched Sleepless in Seattle, agreed with eachother (for once) how bloody ugly Tom Hanks is, then I tried to watch the film while mum talked most of the way through it then complained that she missed bits of the dialogue. Then we watched a bit of Pretty in Pink (Duckie Dale rocks) on DVD and she pre-empted nearly every line until I threatened to throw a slipper at her too. (I am actually guilty of line pre-empting in Star Wars Ep 4 5 and 6 though!)
Then I had a bath, and whilst lazing in their avocado suite corner bath, I perused the labels of shampoo in my mum's collection. L'Oreal "Body Boost Shampoo with Expansyl" with "Non-stop volume" that "props hair up from the root": I read the small print where it tells you that consumer tests were done on only 102 WOMEN and that 55% of them claimed that "hair volume was maintained for over 18 hours". So on the basis of only 102 WOMEN out of a population of f*ck knows how many billion women, L'Oreal are marketing this worldwide brand of "Body Boost Shampoo" promising up to 18 hours of hair volume".
WHAT A CROCK OF SHIT. How can a shampoo "prop hair up from the root" ???? It's A SHAMPOO!!!! It cleans your hair and does NOTHING at all regards "propping". The only thing that can give you body is a decent blow dry and a diffuser and a big fat round brush! Or rollers!! Not a frickin' shampoo!!!!
How come these companies are allowed to make such solid claims on the basis of 102 WOMEN and a 55% success rate, most of which is probably all in the minds of the women testers?
Same goes for Sunsilk "anti-flat" conditioner, promising "Visible volume for flat and sad hair" and "enriched with a 3D Complex" but no details on the said complex, and no figues of how many women were tested to prove this "visible volume". Or "L'Oreal Elvive for Men Body Building Shampoo" with Regenium X-Y (oh PURLEEEZ), that "fortifies and thickens men's thinning hair". Sorry but if a shampoo causes hair to thicken, won't that be swelling the hair shaft which would then split the hair, leaving it resembling straw? These claims were made "Based on a sample of 115 men". Oh that's OK then, it must be true!!!! Calling all baldies, go and waste money on L'Oreal!
Despite all the parental whinges I've had a good day, sorted through a load of my old stuff in the loft ready to move it down to Norwich when we get the keys to the house on Friday (yaaay!). Found all my old works leaving cards with various amusing comments in from old forgotten colleagues (ie, "Sod off!" and "If you ever need references I am a compulsive liar"). Also found a huge thick ring binder of all my old penfriend letters (in the days before email, shock horror!) so it will be fun reading them and reminiscing.
Whilst I'm being ruthless and sacrificing my cars to tanks, I selected various soft toys for charity shop/car boot or to be kept. I felt like a Nazi choosing prisoners to live or be gassed as I held each teddy up, scrutinised it's pleading glassy little eyes, weighed up how sentimental each one was for whatever reason, then consigned it to the relevant bin bag.
The two wombles that my Auntie Issy made for me and my bro when we were toddlers were definitely to keep, as was "Blue ted" who seems to be developing cataracts as his plastic eyes have gone a bit gooey, and a shapeless cuddly owl that I was permenantly attached to for about 2 years when I was 8, plus the infamous "Jazzy" the little white bunny that I once dropped into the docklands mud where my dad used to work, causing him and his workmates to all make fishing rods from brooms and string and hooks, and fish out a stinking muddy Jazzy from the Humber mud, if only to stop my hysterical screaming and crying :-D
Also very pleased to find a bag of my old office clothes from about 8 years ago and find that the skirts still fitted perfectly on the waist. Yaaay, no middle aged spread yet!!
Tomorrow I will probably trek into town and peruse various Sofa establishments just to compare prices of Hull sofas with Norwich sofas. If they are mightily cheaper I have to first ask if they will deliver to Norwich, or weigh up the cost of the sofa plus the cost of van hire and petrol for us to get it back to Norwich, versus the extortionate costs of Norwich sofas. Then back home again to more force-feeding from Mother, and more slipper-throwing at the screeching budgies, followed hopefully by a Hugh Jackman DVD session, with mum so gobsmacked at the horniness of Mr Jackman that she actually doesn't talk throughout the whole film.