Sunday, April 30, 2006

Cheating dogs.

Aha, oh dearie me, oh John Prescott, oh Chris de' Don't pay the Ferryman' Burgh, oh, sniff David golden balls Beckham, Oh Hugh bumbling Grant, oh, Clint-I did not have sexual relations with that woman-on, oh Paddy Clancy from down the road. What have they all got in common. They all fucked around on their other halves and got caught rapid.
What in the name of mickey relief made them cheat on women who were by and large too good for them with women who were, by and large, yuckier.
And why do these women stay with them afterwards? Hum, Mary Archer?
John Prescott is a fat, ugly, charmless behemoth, Beluga whale of a man. His wife appears to be a charming rather glamour pussed lady, younger and lither than he. His bit of nookie fluff looks -to my expert eye-like a hard faced, droop-titted piece of rough. And yet he chanced his arm, and indeed his reputation and job, on bedding said wench, who then, proving my point somewhat about the hard face part, sold her story to the highest bidder.
Politics and scandal, power and sex.
It is such a cliché.
Years ago, in my mispent youth, I worked in a nightclub, maning the door on a Satdee and fridee night. And oh dear, the amount of extra-married nookiefied commings and goings I witnessed in the eight months I worked there-before the owners copped that the two bouncers and I were fleecing them-and rightly so, our wages were apalling, well, they would have been if it wasn't for my quick and light fingers and ability to organise a scam-was shocking.
People would come in and slip me a fiver, 'you haven't seen me, right?' And then the following week, say 'Hullo there!' and I would hesitate, was I seeing them? Wasn't I seeing them? Was she his wife or was it the other one, or the other other one? Should I palm that tenner or write it in the book? Want a dinner ticket guvner? No? Excellent.
Sometimes women would ask me if I'd seen people, and I shake my head very slowly. No, I never saw anyone. Then a woman might say, 'but he told me to meet him here', and then I'd say, 'Oh well, maybe I did see him, he's inside.'
It was all very trying.
So I read the papers yesterday and I laughed about old Prescott and then I warned the Paramour. If you go dipping the wick and I find out about it, I won't be one of those ladies that cries and goes to her friends and bitches and eats chocolate and cries and watches sad movies and cries. I won't blame myself, that would be stupid. But chances are I will have your balls hanging from my mantelpiece as a decoration.
He nodded. 'I already figured that out for myself.'
'Good.'
Once we all know where we stand. People should be upfront about these kinds of things.

22 Comments:

Blogger Gorilla Bananas said...

Former porn stars like La Cicciolina make the best politicians. They never get into sex scandals because that's just more work to them.

4:19 p.m.  
Blogger fatmammycat said...

It's funny when 'holier than thou' folk fall GB, it surely is.
After that sickly Lady in Red song penetrated my brain way back all those years ago I thought to myself, gah stupid man writing about his wife and her highlights, I can't even bitch about it because people keep telling me how romantic is all is. But then good old Chris was caught fucking the nanny, and Lady in Red promptly became Nanny in Bed, and all was right with the world once more.

5:04 p.m.  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Good for you FMC, if anyone ever cheats on me I'll lose a boyfriend and gain a pair of testicle earrings. Lady In Red was an abomination to begin with.

6:55 p.m.  
Blogger fatmammycat said...

Miss Thorpe, it was more than that, it was the apogee of every slow dance. There you are, chewing the face off some hot relatively spot free young fella and then 'I never seen you lookin' so gorgeous as you do tonight, never seem you shine...' And then you had no choice but to sit now, quim a flame, but that didn't matter, you were never going to dance to that fucking song no matter how hot the boy looked in black skinny legged jeans.
Damn you Chris de Burgh, damn you and your evil eyebrows to hell!

7:34 p.m.  
Blogger Dr Maroon said...

Tommy's right!
Anyway, it'd be a hell of a mantlepiece that'd take my love-eggs. Earings? You're kidding.

9:15 a.m.  
Blogger fatmammycat said...

Oh I'm with you Tommy, friendly shoulder to cry on my arse. I have quite a few male friends and I know the lot of them would try it on with ANY women, married, single, as long as she wasn't a complete boot, and even then it would depend on how much they'd had to drink.

10:27 a.m.  
Blogger fatmammycat said...

Maroon, stop boasting.

10:27 a.m.  
Blogger SheBah said...

I have to confess I’d never give a guy an ultimatum, and I’d be on my toes if he tried to give me one. I just don’t think you can keep a partner by putting boundaries around them – he should want to be with you, and vice versa, and if not, it’s time to move on. As far as I am concerned, my man is as free as a bird. Commitment needs to be wholehearted and voluntary for a healthy relationship to work. FMC, I know you are not too keen on poetry but the following words by Kahlil Gibran sums up how I feel.

“And stand together, yet not too near together:
For the pillars of the temple stand apart,
And the oak tree and the cypress grow not in each other's shadow.”

(And that’s the philosophy lesson over for to-day!)

10:59 a.m.  
Blogger fatmammycat said...

I am a very laid back girlfriend. I'm that bit older and wiser that I used to be so I'm not insecure, I believe in not grilling, probing demanding to know every single the paramour eats/thinks/doesn't think, I believe in free time and minding my own business, if he wants to tell me something he will, if he doesn't, he won't. I believe in seperate night out and seperate weekends away. I believe if he's tired and doesn't want to come all the way over to my side of town that he's tired and I don't give him a hard time about it. If he goes away on a stag weekend with the lads, I don't press him for details or sulk. I don't want to know about his ex-girlfriends, I don't care if he has the hots for Kylie, I like that we're good together and I don't want to know why or over analyse it.
In other words, I don't get frazzled over things that 90% of my female friends seem to get upset over.
There was no ultimatum, just a plain statement of fact. If he cheats I wouldn't be forgiving, it would be good bye. I said it in a mildly joking manner, but I know he knows I'm serious. That's why we work, no need to hammer the point home.

11:17 a.m.  
Blogger fatmammycat said...

Much more importantly SB, did you ever snog to Lady In Red?

11:20 a.m.  
Blogger SheBah said...

No, always thought Chris de B was a rancid little dwarf. But I have been know to get fuzzy dancing to the execrable Wet, Wet, Wet - love is all around, and (shamefacedly!!) to You can make me whole again - (Atomic Kitten!)


Oh, the shame! I'm blushing just thinking about it.

And I have even shed a tear during Abba's Winner takes it all!

3:43 p.m.  
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