Diary of a Naive Woman#LATEST EPISODE# A Touchy Mother!

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Postby bonnybraes1 » Mon Dec 17, 2007 9:03 pm

My sleep is going to be haunted by really horrible visions of the Pant-o. Another triumph, dooby! :notworthy: :notworthy: :notworthy: :notworthy: :notworthy:
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Postby gaia » Tue Dec 18, 2007 12:24 am

Dooby, dear one, don't know how you can be so unbelieveably clever and prolific but I gotta hand it to you, this ongoing saga is a "hoot" and I'm entertained far beyond anything I read in my monthly VANITY FAIR or any silly thing I see on TV. Thanks or all this. I mean it. This has been a great Christmas gift. Out of all this horror of a little girl either killed or gone missing and living somewhere separated from her familiar life, we have a way of joking about it all. I suppose that's always the way people have coped with bad news in this world. You do it so well. Thanks for that.


By the way, Maddy is dead. That's a blessing.
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Postby traveller » Tue Dec 18, 2007 6:43 am

Dooby one gathers your lap top is in full working order again, or are you being devios and using someone elses computer :D very well done but I am afraid i will never attend another panto again :shock:
I am still asking, what have you done with your child?
Where is Maddy?
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Postby doobyscoo » Tue Dec 18, 2007 2:12 pm

Oh gaia, gaia, gaia,

My little poppet, this diary has nothing whatsoever to do with Maddy. I'm sad you think the death of a little girl is a blessing, I personally find it upsetting. If you could be a little sweetie and keep the Maddy debate to the relevant forum that would be nice.

Have lovely Christmas,

love Dooby (Big HUGZ)
x x x
x x
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Postby doobyscoo » Tue Dec 18, 2007 4:54 pm

Monday 17th December
Infamy Infamy

They've all got it in for me!

Gez is gone, Clarry isn't talking to me and if things weren't bad enough already, I suffered the embarrassment of being arrested on one count of grievous bodily harm against Heather Milly-Macca and two counts of gross public indecency for lewd and depraved acts in a public theatre.

It was Sergeant Hard-ache who clapped me in cold shackles, read me my rights and escorted be past the throws of paparazzi who have been camped out behind my front bush (presumably in the hopes of getting a picture of the same). I spent most of yesterday 'banged up' in the Leicester Constabulary's custodial suite.

SUITE! I don't know how they've got the cheek. It was hardly a place of comfort and luxury. It's a good job I didn't need to use the Victorian excuse for a flushable s**t pan. Not that my imposed 'cell mate' was quite so picky, she was on it more often than a Pixie with irritable bowel syndrome. Seasonal overcrowding did mean I had to share confinement with local repeat offender Sandy Creamer who, while sitting on the rusty commode with her knickers round her ankles, told me she was up for her seventeenth 'Streetwalking' conviction.

I advised Sandy she might be better taking the bus or perhaps even getting a bike if she wanted to avoid further brushes with the police. Not that-that is the answer, even with the aid of a bicycle you can still get into serious trouble. I remember as a teenager getting severely ticked off by a shirty policeman who caught me on the pavement, red handed not to mention 'red faced' as I rode up and down on my boyfriends 'chopper'.

Sandy and I chatted about this and that. I did tell her all about my fight with Heather Milly-Macca. She said it's about time someone gave her 'what for'. Since Heather moved to town Sandy said she'd lost a lot of her trade. Nowadays she's hard pushed to find ends, never mind make them meet! Offering me a piece of 'Juicy Fruit' gum she questioned how she was supposed to sell her wares with the likes of Heather handing it out for free. I had no idea what she was going on about so, like the Queen, I nodded while smiling in general agreement.

Funnily enough Sandy seemed to know my husband quite well, what with him often being around to offer her lifts and escort her safely home to her Scuttlethorpe' bed sitter. Kind of Gez really. I did ask Sandy how I might win him back. Well! What Sandy doesn't know about the wants, needs and desires of men you could fit on the back of a till receipt. Like Stephen Hawkins, she's a universe of information just without the aid of 'voice generator' and motorized wheelchair, Mind you given Sandy's vast experience I wouldn't put that past her.

Anyway, the upshot of the conversation was that I must press on with my boob job. Also, I'm not to worry about Gez giving Esther all those 'Pearl Necklaces', instead I've got to go out and get myself a string of pearls of my own. She didn't mean for me to wear them either as she furnished me with the graphic details of how, with her most secret pleasure tricks, she could guarantee I will bring Gez begging to his knees.

After an enthralling ten hours in the cell with Sandy, a burly WPC opened the hatch to inform me that my briefs were on the way. I asked Sandy if that meant I would be getting some badly needed fresh underwear. She spat out her gum laughing before explaining. Still confused I wondered if the solicitor would still be thoughtful enough to bring me clean knickers! Luckily he did along with an 'off the peg' black suit from 'Marks & Sparks' to boot.

Three hearty cheers for Mr Branson who sent my legal knights in tweed armour. As it turns out, Regina Clench had not been very complimentary towards Mr B since he pulled funding from her pantomime so he was delighted by my little act of theatrical sabotage and pulled out his best pair of briefs in the hopes of 'getting me off'.

Getting me off wasn't exactly easy; I was initially probed by two junior officers and then it was Detective Inspector Swift-Rogers turn to finger me. Something he did for the best part of an hour, talk about the long arm of the law! Using his best 'bully boy' tactics he said wanted me 'banged up' for the night.

Luckily Mr Branson's lawyers were having none of it, from behind the interogators desk they fully debriefed D.I. Swift–Rogers right before my eyes, tying him up in knots of red tape before giving him a good thrashing. All in a good old fashioned legal sense of course.

With all charges dropped on the grounds of my responsibilities being somewhat diminished I was liberated in time of tea. Mummy called, said she knew everything that had gone on between me Gez, Heather Milly Macca and Mrs Horncocks lacy garter thong. She said it's all over the internet as well as being the 'feature download' of the week on Youtube. She's coming coming over tomorrow to sort me out. She loves Gez so I'm not in her good books. Not that I can't remember a time when I ever was.
Last edited by doobyscoo on Mon Dec 24, 2007 9:15 am, edited 8 times in total.
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Postby shesaidwhat » Tue Dec 18, 2007 6:14 pm

I remember as a teenager getting severely ticked off by a shirty policeman who caught me on the pavement, red handed not to mention 'red faced' as I rode up and down on my boyfriends 'chopper'. :lol: :lol: :lol: :lol: :lol: :lol:

Thank you Dooby xxxxxxxx
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Postby CaptnMorgan » Tue Dec 18, 2007 6:32 pm

LOL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! :wav: :occasion5: That was, yet again, GRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAATTTTTTTTTT!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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Postby perrito » Tue Dec 18, 2007 9:12 pm

you are not doing my ribs any good dooby, but many thanks yet again for the laughs. x
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Postby gaia » Tue Dec 18, 2007 11:30 pm

Dear me, Dooby, I fear I've or'stepped my bounderies on this thread/forum. So sorry for all this. I must admit I have to simply say I must be candid...I'm dying dear boy...dying of an insidious disease that simplys robs ones one of the ability of the ability to think along strict parallel lines. Can you imagine how awful that might be? Well, it's horrible in this world. I have untold $$$ and a marvelous education, but who cares? if I can't follow the principal of things? Anyway, I know how awful I've been about things and wish I could make up for things, but have no way of doing so. Perhaps we could use our unusual intellects to solve this silly case (tut tut, this is so silly, isn't it?) and get on with our rediculous but very polished lives? Whatcha think, dear boy/?

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Postby bjr » Wed Dec 19, 2007 12:15 am

Thanks Dooby an another side aching adventure. :lol: :lol: :lol: :lol: :lol:
To my critics
When I'm in a sober mood, I worry, work and think,
When I'm in a drunken mood, I gamble, play and drink,
But when my moods are over and my time has come to pass,
I hope I'm buried upside down, so the world may kiss my ar*e
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Postby bonnybraes1 » Wed Dec 19, 2007 7:13 am

A learning experience for Kate, which may help her cope with trials to come...Thanks, dooby.
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Postby julygirl3210 » Wed Dec 19, 2007 10:38 am

perrito wrote:you are not doing my ribs any good dooby, but many thanks yet again for the laughs. x

Yes, Perrito, me too. Dooby's postings are truly the highlight of my week. Cheer me up no end.

Quote: "a burly WPC opened the hatch to inform me that my briefs were on the way"

:lol: :lol: :lol: :lol: :santa: :santa: :santa: :santa: :santa: :santa: :sunny: :sunny: :sunny: :sunny: :santa: :santa: :santa: :santa:
"Out damned spot ................" - Macbeth
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Postby doobyscoo » Thu Dec 20, 2007 9:22 am

Wednesday 19th December
A Touchy Mother and a Mothers Touch

I watched from behind the bedroom curtains as Mum pulled up the drive in her Mercedes, it wasn't until she saw the Paparazzi did she muster a smile, spinning a photogenic twirl as she slammed closed the car door. All smiles were of course gone by the time she'd marched through the front door. Leaning sideward she greeted me by kissing the air around my left lobe. An eager spider could have spun its silky web between us and not a single thread would have been disturbed.

My Mum, being who she is, has this odd little habit when she visits me (which incidentally isn't very often) of keeping her coat on as long as she can possibly manage. I've actually started timing her; her record to date being forty three minutes. Today was no exception, "Away with you man" she said, shoo-shooing Clarry off as he tried to remove her beige cashmere classic. It's almost like she anticipates her departure well before her arrival.

Still wearing her coat she told me to look at her, not her shoes! A sign I was about to get one of her good old fashioned catholic lectures on the shameful sin of divorce.

"I don't care what you have to do young lady!" she said, holding my chin in her cold fingers. "You get him back!"

She arched her brows, rolling her eyes across the arc. "Lord only knows what I'm going to tell your Father? We didn't bring you up to disappoint us like this. Did we?" I slowly shook my head and held back the tears. I won't allow myself, despite her best efforts, to provide her the satisfaction of a single tear.

We spent the afternoon doing the only thing we'd ever really done together. Shopping! Of course when I say together, what I mean is; we were never more than four feet apart. In reality I'd never felt quite so alone, watching as I did, the happy festive shoppers snapping up dreams to be unwrapped by loved ones on Yuletide morning.

I asked Mum while we coffee'd in 'Druckers' if it were ok for me and the kids to stay over Christmas?

"Of course you can", she said "Only" grabbing a brochure from her handbag, "me and your Dad won't be there." She proceeded to show me pictures of idyllic Seychellois beach huts from where they'll be cracking their Christmas coconuts.

No sooner had we got back home and Mum was eager to get off, not wanting as she did to get caught up in rush-hour traffic. I told her it was a shame she couldn't have waited until the kids were home from school, but as she reminded me, she'd see them in the New Year and I, as they, should be happy Grandma bought them so many lovely things for Christmas.

Walking towards the door she brushed past, again without kissing me. Turning around she looked back in my direction. "Nearly forgot!" she laughed before instructing Clarry to wrap and tag 'Grandmas' gifts before sending them off to Santa! I only wish she'd cared those years when I'd found my own gifts under the tree in carrier bags, the year she'd told me 'Santa's little helpers must have run out of wrapping paper this year'!

Mum left; waving. Not to me of course but to the waiting paparazzi. I watched her, again hidden behind the bedroom curtain and for a fleeting second, caught in the lightning of a camera's flash it wasn't her I was seeing, it was me!

It's not the first time I've caught myself in my Mother but this time it did make me stop and think. If only I could love her, if only I could like her. Oh, if only if only I didn't need my mothers love not least the woman's slightest approval. I could stop needing those things no more than I could stop my age from fast approaching forty. Looking hard in the mirror I gasped, not knowing if it was the thought of turning forty or the distain of my Mother so vividly reflected which made me shudder so.

Going downstairs I found Auntie Philomena raiding the Christmas tree for chocolate pennies. She looked up; smiling at me with such serene kindness I was filled with an overwhelming rush of sadness and shame. A sadness which I guess only a woman of Philomena's struggle would ever have recognised.

Taking me in her gentle hug, she held me softly.safely. It seemed to matter nothing that her chocolate fingers smudged designer cloth, no more than it mattered to her for all my cutting remarks, my jokes, my insults. Or at least for those precious moments they didn't matter. And for all I've ever said of her size, I'm truly sorry for now I know for certain; She's a bigger woman than I'll ever be.

I held on tight for all the warmth and comfort she had to give. And in those big loving arms I became someone else, someone forgotten. A girl! A girl held safe in the bosom of a woman she so wished was her mother.

.And for the memory of a forgotten little girl, betrayed by the woman I became, I cried the tears of a lifetime.

The End.

(And the start, of a new beginning)

Merry Christmas
Last edited by doobyscoo on Mon Dec 24, 2007 9:03 am, edited 7 times in total.
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Postby magnalady » Thu Dec 20, 2007 10:00 am

Gosh Doobs..that was really moving..you have a real talent for producing tears..ones of laughter in one episode and tears of profound grief with the next..very deep. :wink:
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boo hoo.

Postby sabot » Thu Dec 20, 2007 11:01 am

That was really sad.
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