The Guest House or the Bates Motel...
Liana turned up yesterday with her sister and her daughter from Thetford and asked if I could put them up for a few days over the holidays. I agreed to this request so the Bates Motel was full last night. There was a couple of problems. Initially, it was thought that my double bed would suit them fine. But, I explained that Rocky sleeps on a sofa in my bedroom and I wasn't sure how he would react or manage if we had to sleep in one of the other bedrooms. I did tidy and make up the other beds in the other bedrooms, but the bedding had not been washed since June when other guests had intended to stay but instead all crammed into Lasma's flat. In the end they did sleep in the spare bedrooms, and now I have to wash the bedding in case they wish to continue their stay here. This is not certain because Liana gets up to her old tricks when she has had too much to drink. I called an end to her party last night when her sister retired to bed and I was tired, but Liana and her sister's daughter desired to party on. So, I kicked Liana out of the house and went to bed. This morning Liana's relatives left without having either a tea or coffee or breakfast, to go and find Liana.
All three have just turned up and said they are going into the City Centre to do some shopping. I have to get the washing done, tidy up a bit, and get some Vermouth which is Liana's favourite tipple. She has apparently got over her bad behaviour from last night. It is this lack of control over drinking which turned me off the idea of marrying Liana. Whereas I go quiet after drinking Liana likes to get noisy and start a row. The chemistry is wrong for my nice and quiet house.
A mixture of law, politics, autobiography and humour. Once described as "The Devilish Advocate" (Guardian), I do have the ability to provoke a response. Sometimes it comes from someone who uses a thought process, and sometimes from jerks usually associated with the knee.
1 comment:
I too have had guests sleeping on the sofas. They brought three of their own owls and filled the ashtrays up with peanuts, how disgusting! I had to use a beer can to flick my ash into.
On top of that I had the news that my dad was quite ill so have been living on a knife edge all two days so far.
Still, better than last christmas when Joe Stalin Starkweather turned up unanounced with his AK-47 and shot the neighbour's pidgeons.
Happy Christmas!
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