WART
"I think this is going to be the wedding of the year!"
Squealed Mal excitedly. "What shall I wear?"
"Wear want you want, you're not going." I said and
sipped my expresso, wincing as it burnt my tongue.
I was sitting in Starbucks with Sister-thing and Mal,
he was perhaps the only friend of mine that Raine
liked (must have been the mad hair-thing).
"Oh that's not nice!" He exclaimed loudly.
Raine shook her head.
"Mal you go instead of me, I'd hate to go."
"Why?" We both said in unison.
"Because you (that was aimed at me) will cause a scene,
I know it, I can feel it in my bones." To make a
point she snapped the head off a biscuit.
"I would not! It is a wedding, I'd never mess it up."
I stuck out my bottom lip.
"With you mouth like that and your splint
you look a bit like Anna Friel." Said Mal and him
and Raine started snorting with laughter.
"Bastards! Raine really! I will behave, please
come." I pleaded with my eyes.
"No I'd rather sit at home and watch Countdown
and I hate that Carol Vorderman."
"Carol? Oh I think she looks dreamy." Said Mal.
"Because she's a man." Said Raine:"Can't sit here
all day talking to you fuckers, going to get D
his St Johns Wort."
"I knew a man with a wart once." Said Mal
wistfully.
We ignored him.
"He had the biggest one you ever saw." He
continued.
"Shut up!" I hissed.
"Looked like a split cauliflower." Mal was on a
roll now.
"I'm gone!" Raine kissed Mal (Mal!) and left,
I, beautiful little sister, didn't get so much as
a peck.
"We tried that Compound W shit on it and
Bazuka, but nothing worked. In the end he had
to have it frozen off at his GPs. I think he keeps
it in a matchbox."
"The GP?" I looked incredulous.
"No my friend's wart! Becka honestly, how are
you supposed to keep a fully grown Doctor in a
matchbox!" He ruffled my hair.
"Shut up!" I scowled.
"If your Daddy goes to this wedding do y'think
he'd bring Michael Portillo for me?" Mal's eyes
had a dreamy cast.
"More like Ann Widdecombe, she's more your speed
and age anyway!"
"Fuck you!"
And so life continued uneasily.
Becka M
Thursday, March 31, 2005
Monday, March 28, 2005
BEST
"Say it again, really slowly this time, Angela
wants me to what?" I put a finger in my ear
to shake lose the tricky wax that must be making
me hear insane gibberish.
"Angela wants you to be her best man, what's
so hard about that?"
"For starters I'm a girl, also hello! I hate your
guts, what makes you think that I'd like to
go to your mucky little wedding?"
"You know that would sound so much more
insulting if you were not wearing a nose splint!
You will love it, free booze Becka! And food as
your such a pig! Also you can bring that weird
man of yours if you like."
"Alan?" Possibilities, weddings always bring out
the romantic in me, maybe Alan would feel the
same. "What about the girls?"
"Of course, even ask Raine if you want."
"What do I wear?" I frowned, Best Man indeed!
"Don't you worry about it at all, Angela is
going to arrange all the clothes except my
dress." A faint grayness lit her cheeks, oh my
she was blushing!
"You are not wearing white! You would not
dare!" I laughed:"White's not exactly you' re
colour, you would disappear."
"Shut up! So I can tell Angie that you will do
it?" Justine glared at me.
"Ok, who is giving you away? I mean I'd feel
better doing that actually, I'd give you to a tramp
off the street if I could." I gave her my sharp
smile (the one she hated).
"Ha bloody ha, my Uncle is giving me away,
you might have heard of him. Sir Patrick
Beamish? He's been on Question Time recently
about the gypsies, I'd worry if I was you!"
She smiled and I frowned. I was worried!
Fuck!
Becka MMMMM
"Say it again, really slowly this time, Angela
wants me to what?" I put a finger in my ear
to shake lose the tricky wax that must be making
me hear insane gibberish.
"Angela wants you to be her best man, what's
so hard about that?"
"For starters I'm a girl, also hello! I hate your
guts, what makes you think that I'd like to
go to your mucky little wedding?"
"You know that would sound so much more
insulting if you were not wearing a nose splint!
You will love it, free booze Becka! And food as
your such a pig! Also you can bring that weird
man of yours if you like."
"Alan?" Possibilities, weddings always bring out
the romantic in me, maybe Alan would feel the
same. "What about the girls?"
"Of course, even ask Raine if you want."
"What do I wear?" I frowned, Best Man indeed!
"Don't you worry about it at all, Angela is
going to arrange all the clothes except my
dress." A faint grayness lit her cheeks, oh my
she was blushing!
"You are not wearing white! You would not
dare!" I laughed:"White's not exactly you' re
colour, you would disappear."
"Shut up! So I can tell Angie that you will do
it?" Justine glared at me.
"Ok, who is giving you away? I mean I'd feel
better doing that actually, I'd give you to a tramp
off the street if I could." I gave her my sharp
smile (the one she hated).
"Ha bloody ha, my Uncle is giving me away,
you might have heard of him. Sir Patrick
Beamish? He's been on Question Time recently
about the gypsies, I'd worry if I was you!"
She smiled and I frowned. I was worried!
Fuck!
Becka MMMMM
Thursday, March 24, 2005
FOE NOT FOE
I hate this nose-splint thingy, my nose is the
exact opposite of petite and now looks like
the rudder of the damned Titanic! Half
expect Leonardo and Kate to do that arm
stuff on it! Ruth is now very snivelly and
sorry for herself, but the best bit is she has
offered to cough up for a proper nose-job if
it heals funny. I expect I will forgive her-
in time. Alan is still furious, but he said he's
used to me letting him down by now, so that's
good isn't it?
Went to work at the counter, nobody wanted
me to make-up their faces for some unknown
reason (did they think it was catching?)
'Yes Madam, you look great, shall I extract a
tooth and black your eye for a contemporary feel,
no? Complementary nose splint if you spend over
fifty pound.' No they stayed away in droves.
Eventually after about half a dozen complaints
they sent Justine down to me. What a laugh!
At least I still had a pulse! You could feel the
temperature drop and Yvette Fielding would be
seeing orbs by now.
"Oh my gosh!" She said, that was enough! That
and the silly, irritating little half smile she gave
me.
"Look I'm here and I'm working, so kindly get
back into your office and go down on your
woman or something." I love being me.
I began to frantically rotate some Nars nail
varnish, she stood dead (dead!) still staring at
me and grinning like someone had tickled her
fanny.
"Becka, go home for fuck sake you look like
shit and your scaring the customers!" Still
grinning like a nit she was.
"No." I said:"I might look like Mickey Rourke
in Angel Heart, but I need my money and I'm
fit to work."
"Angela says you can have full pay, just sling
your hook you're making the place look ugly."
"Full pay?" I considered this:"I'll get my coat."
I conceded.
"Thought you would." She said smugly.
"You are such a bitch." I looked in the mirror,
what a nightmare, would I ever be pretty
again?
"Who did it? Jealous lover? Oh so it was!"
She clapped her hands together in glee:"You
must tell me everything!" Nice to see I had
made her happy.
"I'd rather tell Angela that you are really straight
and just a gold digging whore." My turn to smile.
Her small perfect mouth stopped grinning and
set into a vicious little hook.
"I hate you." She whispered.
"Great, I always know where I am with you
Justine."
"You're wrong about Angela, I do love her."
"You love money, Angie practically wipes her
arse on fivers everytime she takes a dump."
"You are a crude working class chav!"
She snarled showing her true Home County
colours true blue and full of shit.
"I resent that! I only wore Burberry when it was
in fashion, I'd already stopped when the rest got
on the bandwagon!"
"You have a veneer of sophistication, but that's
all it is, a front. Inside you are rotten. Your
face matches the inside now."
"Fuck you! Next time you are going to get
raped and killed remind me not to help you."
"I was the one who saved you remember? And
Angie helped of course!" She grinned again,
oh poo she was right! In my head I was the hero.
"Well yeah, ok, so I owe you one, still hate
you though." Imagine going down on her!
My lips would get frost bite!
"Mutal I'm sure, anyway I was going to ask
you for a favour." Her colourless eyes flashed
impishly.
"Tell me more." I said, maybe I could pay back
my debt and her supernatural hold over me
would be over.
Becka (Beaky) M
I hate this nose-splint thingy, my nose is the
exact opposite of petite and now looks like
the rudder of the damned Titanic! Half
expect Leonardo and Kate to do that arm
stuff on it! Ruth is now very snivelly and
sorry for herself, but the best bit is she has
offered to cough up for a proper nose-job if
it heals funny. I expect I will forgive her-
in time. Alan is still furious, but he said he's
used to me letting him down by now, so that's
good isn't it?
Went to work at the counter, nobody wanted
me to make-up their faces for some unknown
reason (did they think it was catching?)
'Yes Madam, you look great, shall I extract a
tooth and black your eye for a contemporary feel,
no? Complementary nose splint if you spend over
fifty pound.' No they stayed away in droves.
Eventually after about half a dozen complaints
they sent Justine down to me. What a laugh!
At least I still had a pulse! You could feel the
temperature drop and Yvette Fielding would be
seeing orbs by now.
"Oh my gosh!" She said, that was enough! That
and the silly, irritating little half smile she gave
me.
"Look I'm here and I'm working, so kindly get
back into your office and go down on your
woman or something." I love being me.
I began to frantically rotate some Nars nail
varnish, she stood dead (dead!) still staring at
me and grinning like someone had tickled her
fanny.
"Becka, go home for fuck sake you look like
shit and your scaring the customers!" Still
grinning like a nit she was.
"No." I said:"I might look like Mickey Rourke
in Angel Heart, but I need my money and I'm
fit to work."
"Angela says you can have full pay, just sling
your hook you're making the place look ugly."
"Full pay?" I considered this:"I'll get my coat."
I conceded.
"Thought you would." She said smugly.
"You are such a bitch." I looked in the mirror,
what a nightmare, would I ever be pretty
again?
"Who did it? Jealous lover? Oh so it was!"
She clapped her hands together in glee:"You
must tell me everything!" Nice to see I had
made her happy.
"I'd rather tell Angela that you are really straight
and just a gold digging whore." My turn to smile.
Her small perfect mouth stopped grinning and
set into a vicious little hook.
"I hate you." She whispered.
"Great, I always know where I am with you
Justine."
"You're wrong about Angela, I do love her."
"You love money, Angie practically wipes her
arse on fivers everytime she takes a dump."
"You are a crude working class chav!"
She snarled showing her true Home County
colours true blue and full of shit.
"I resent that! I only wore Burberry when it was
in fashion, I'd already stopped when the rest got
on the bandwagon!"
"You have a veneer of sophistication, but that's
all it is, a front. Inside you are rotten. Your
face matches the inside now."
"Fuck you! Next time you are going to get
raped and killed remind me not to help you."
"I was the one who saved you remember? And
Angie helped of course!" She grinned again,
oh poo she was right! In my head I was the hero.
"Well yeah, ok, so I owe you one, still hate
you though." Imagine going down on her!
My lips would get frost bite!
"Mutal I'm sure, anyway I was going to ask
you for a favour." Her colourless eyes flashed
impishly.
"Tell me more." I said, maybe I could pay back
my debt and her supernatural hold over me
would be over.
Becka (Beaky) M
Monday, March 21, 2005
BECKA'S RED NOSE DAY
I could hear Mal's high pitched hysterics and saw
Alan's face was pale and sweaty. My nose felt like
a ripe tomato thrown at a neighbour's window-
squished. My mouth was full of blood-ugh.
"Oh my god her face her face!" Screamed Mal, his
shrillness made my heart lurch. Amazingly, Alan
took control of the situation.
"Mal, make a cup of tea with 3 sugars in it, you,
sit down here put your head forwards." He sat me
down and placing a towel on my lap I watched it
redden.
"Becka." Whispered Ruth and tried to touch me,
I shirked away from her, bitch, she broke my nose!
Mal returned with the tea.
"Here it is." He said and I could see his hand shaking.
"Well sit down and drink it then." Said Alan, Mal
obeyed, his eyes still very shiny and darting.
Then Alex and Sean were there and Alex started
screaming at Ruthie, Ruthie was crying.
"Come on, I'll take you to casualty." Said Alan.
"It's ok I think I'm alright now." Said Mal.
"Not you! Becka."
"Oh." Said Mal and blushed:"I'll come anyway."
He looked at Ruth:"It's safer."
In the melee (love that word) someone had phoned
Sister-thing Raine, she arrived like the world's
smallest Mafioso glaring at Ruth she said:
"You fuck my sister up I fuck you up!" Then Sean
and Alan had to restrain her before she gave
Ruthie the Vulcan death-grip.
Later in the hospital I sat with two suspiciously
tampon-like affairs shoved up my nose. My head
was killing me and I could hardly breathe.
Worse still I had run out of ciggies.
Becka M
I could hear Mal's high pitched hysterics and saw
Alan's face was pale and sweaty. My nose felt like
a ripe tomato thrown at a neighbour's window-
squished. My mouth was full of blood-ugh.
"Oh my god her face her face!" Screamed Mal, his
shrillness made my heart lurch. Amazingly, Alan
took control of the situation.
"Mal, make a cup of tea with 3 sugars in it, you,
sit down here put your head forwards." He sat me
down and placing a towel on my lap I watched it
redden.
"Becka." Whispered Ruth and tried to touch me,
I shirked away from her, bitch, she broke my nose!
Mal returned with the tea.
"Here it is." He said and I could see his hand shaking.
"Well sit down and drink it then." Said Alan, Mal
obeyed, his eyes still very shiny and darting.
Then Alex and Sean were there and Alex started
screaming at Ruthie, Ruthie was crying.
"Come on, I'll take you to casualty." Said Alan.
"It's ok I think I'm alright now." Said Mal.
"Not you! Becka."
"Oh." Said Mal and blushed:"I'll come anyway."
He looked at Ruth:"It's safer."
In the melee (love that word) someone had phoned
Sister-thing Raine, she arrived like the world's
smallest Mafioso glaring at Ruth she said:
"You fuck my sister up I fuck you up!" Then Sean
and Alan had to restrain her before she gave
Ruthie the Vulcan death-grip.
Later in the hospital I sat with two suspiciously
tampon-like affairs shoved up my nose. My head
was killing me and I could hardly breathe.
Worse still I had run out of ciggies.
Becka M
Thursday, March 17, 2005
MUGS
"That girl scares me." Admitted Alan as he carefully
rolled a cigarette. Sean had wrapped Alex in his parka,
she looked very nice with her bare legs and damp hair.
They were talking in whispers and it looked pretty
intense.
Shortly Alex said:"Come with me." And led a smiling
Sean to her bedroom.
Alan rolled his eyes: "At least that's over!"
Mal turned to me:"You had better see how lil' Ruthie
is doing." I nodded, who else could do it? Muggins of
course!
As I left the room I heard Mal say to Alan: "So would
you like to watch 13 GOING ON 30?"
And Alan's strained."No."
I tapped at her door.
"Come on Ruthie, let me in." She didn't answer so
I came in anyway. She was sprawled on the bed
and she looked totally dejected, her make-up
streaking down to her chin and her nose red and
sore. "Whatever is the matter Ruth?" I sat next to
her and put my arm around her.
"It's too much! You've got Alan, Sean's back!
What am I supposed to do?" Her voice was angry
and trite.
What indeed?
"But you' re lovely! Any guy or girl would love to
have you." I kissed her forehead which was
damp and sweaty.
"Really? Then why am I always on my own? Why
do I have to exist on the sexual scraps you throw
at me when you can't get anything better?"
She poked a tiny finger into my chest, bloody hurt
it did.
"Ruth it's not like that at all! I love Alan, but you
will always be special to me? Who could not love
you a little bit?" I stroked her crazy hair which
was standing up in tufts like a throw-back punk.
Suddenly she pushed me back onto the bed
straddling me.
"If you love me, show it now." Her voice was
crazy, demanding and edgy. I liked it.
"Ruth! Alan's out there! And Mal! We can't...."
But obviously we could as Ruth was pulling off
her t-shirt and her hands were under mine.
"Well we will have to be quick." I whispered,
very excited, it was so elicit, so tantalizing-
Alan was on the other side of the wall, if it
was glass he could see me! Oh I wished he
could! Ruth yanked down my pants and roughly
inserted 2 fingers, I felt the nails and it made
me shudder in pain.
"Too rough for you?" She said not at all apologetic.
"Not at all!" I said and gritted my teeth, it was
still smarting. I kissed her breasts and just to
show her I nipped them quite sharply.
"Now we're getting somewhere!" Ruth said
and I could see the excitement and madness in
her eyes.
Strange really, I was the 'Mad one' the one in
trouble yet Ruthie was nuts bigtime! She
just hid it from the general public that much
better. She began to move down, biting all
the way, could I take the pain? Hopefully!
It was so hot, we were both sweating like pigs,
Ruth's tongue and teeth worked their magic
and my clit made it's own sweet vibration.
"Ahh!" I moaned.
"Awwww!" Moaned Ruth getting off to my
pleasure.
"WHAT A FUCKING MUG!" This was Alan
who stood in the door shaking, white and furious.
Ruth smiled at him.
"Hi Alan!" She said cheekily.
"You shut up!" He snapped and grabbed my
wrists yanked me up." Get dressed now! We're
going out!" He snarled.
"Alan!" I said weakly how could I finish this
sentence?
1. Alan it's not what it looks like-we were
doing 'organic bikini waxing'
2. Alan I'm sorry? Maybe you should knock
next time?
3. Alan fancy a three-way?
4. Alan for heavensake! It's just a muff dive-
it means nothing!
But what I actually said was:"Alan I'm so sorry!"
At that Ruthie roared and punched me full
in the face breaking my nose in two places.
Shit.
Becka M
"That girl scares me." Admitted Alan as he carefully
rolled a cigarette. Sean had wrapped Alex in his parka,
she looked very nice with her bare legs and damp hair.
They were talking in whispers and it looked pretty
intense.
Shortly Alex said:"Come with me." And led a smiling
Sean to her bedroom.
Alan rolled his eyes: "At least that's over!"
Mal turned to me:"You had better see how lil' Ruthie
is doing." I nodded, who else could do it? Muggins of
course!
As I left the room I heard Mal say to Alan: "So would
you like to watch 13 GOING ON 30?"
And Alan's strained."No."
I tapped at her door.
"Come on Ruthie, let me in." She didn't answer so
I came in anyway. She was sprawled on the bed
and she looked totally dejected, her make-up
streaking down to her chin and her nose red and
sore. "Whatever is the matter Ruth?" I sat next to
her and put my arm around her.
"It's too much! You've got Alan, Sean's back!
What am I supposed to do?" Her voice was angry
and trite.
What indeed?
"But you' re lovely! Any guy or girl would love to
have you." I kissed her forehead which was
damp and sweaty.
"Really? Then why am I always on my own? Why
do I have to exist on the sexual scraps you throw
at me when you can't get anything better?"
She poked a tiny finger into my chest, bloody hurt
it did.
"Ruth it's not like that at all! I love Alan, but you
will always be special to me? Who could not love
you a little bit?" I stroked her crazy hair which
was standing up in tufts like a throw-back punk.
Suddenly she pushed me back onto the bed
straddling me.
"If you love me, show it now." Her voice was
crazy, demanding and edgy. I liked it.
"Ruth! Alan's out there! And Mal! We can't...."
But obviously we could as Ruth was pulling off
her t-shirt and her hands were under mine.
"Well we will have to be quick." I whispered,
very excited, it was so elicit, so tantalizing-
Alan was on the other side of the wall, if it
was glass he could see me! Oh I wished he
could! Ruth yanked down my pants and roughly
inserted 2 fingers, I felt the nails and it made
me shudder in pain.
"Too rough for you?" She said not at all apologetic.
"Not at all!" I said and gritted my teeth, it was
still smarting. I kissed her breasts and just to
show her I nipped them quite sharply.
"Now we're getting somewhere!" Ruth said
and I could see the excitement and madness in
her eyes.
Strange really, I was the 'Mad one' the one in
trouble yet Ruthie was nuts bigtime! She
just hid it from the general public that much
better. She began to move down, biting all
the way, could I take the pain? Hopefully!
It was so hot, we were both sweating like pigs,
Ruth's tongue and teeth worked their magic
and my clit made it's own sweet vibration.
"Ahh!" I moaned.
"Awwww!" Moaned Ruth getting off to my
pleasure.
"WHAT A FUCKING MUG!" This was Alan
who stood in the door shaking, white and furious.
Ruth smiled at him.
"Hi Alan!" She said cheekily.
"You shut up!" He snapped and grabbed my
wrists yanked me up." Get dressed now! We're
going out!" He snarled.
"Alan!" I said weakly how could I finish this
sentence?
1. Alan it's not what it looks like-we were
doing 'organic bikini waxing'
2. Alan I'm sorry? Maybe you should knock
next time?
3. Alan fancy a three-way?
4. Alan for heavensake! It's just a muff dive-
it means nothing!
But what I actually said was:"Alan I'm so sorry!"
At that Ruthie roared and punched me full
in the face breaking my nose in two places.
Shit.
Becka M
Tuesday, March 15, 2005
HARDS**T AND ZELLWEGERS
We sat (we being myself, Alex, Ruth and the newly
acquired Mal) with our feet soaking in a babybath.
not much room with Mal's size 12's taking up all the
space. I had to have my feet on his, very nice in a
footy kind of way. His toes had little blondish tuffs
much like a Hobbit really only bigger.
We were sipping really cheap Asti and were all
getting nicely toasted. Alex looked a sight, her
hair was wrapped up as she was relaxing it and
on her face was a luminous green mask. Even
the very beautiful can look ugly sometimes.
Ruthie was in full bitch-mode and Mal eyed her
warily. I don't know if it was the David and Goliath
effect, but this big guy was certainly scared of our
little Ruthie (or at least very wary) can't say I
blame him.
We had watched both Bridget Jones and thrown
Dorito's at Renee Zellweger's face everytime
the shot went to close up.
"She's thin in real life." Remarked Mal. Ruth
resident anorexic and token psychotic glared at
him.
"I think she's still a heffing great pig!" She snarled,
showing whites of the eye and a fair bit of tooth.
Mal looked at me helplessly.
"She's hardly fat now." He whimpered.
"Most people are fat, your fat, Becka's fat, Alex...
Alex is ok (this is because Ruthie knew better then
to proceed) I think you could all do with a fucking
de-tox!"
"Piss off!" I said, but before it could escalated into
the usual nonsense the door bell rang.
"That fucking bell!" Said Ruthie:"I'll take the
fucker off I will!" She snatched open the door.
"Oh not you!" She shouted:"Becka, Alan-lame-
arse and Sean Pretty-Boybum are here!"
I looked at Alex and she looked at me in horror.
"Not Sean!" Tears made tracks down her sticky
face, she fled to the bathroom.
Alan and Sean entered the room like the sun
and the moon. Sean being the sun, blond, gorgeous,
tanned and unavailable. Alan limped in wearing his
trademark black and a scowl. A moon if ever I saw
one.
"Sorry Becka." Said Alan:"Sean arrived at mine,
he wants to see Alex." I love his casual scruffiness.
"No fucking way!" Said Ruth.
"She's my wife!" Shouted Sean.
"Your gay!" Snapped Ruth she was actally squaring
up to him!
Mal's ears pricked up:"He's gay?" He smiled at
Sean:"Didn't aye see you in Hardshit?"
We all looked at him.
Sean shook his head :"I don't think so." Bet he
had though.
Then Alex re-entered the room looking drop
dead gorgeous with her clean face and wet hair
and more to the point, naked. We all stared
and she was loving it.
"Take a good look Sean, see what your missing?"
Mal laughed hysterically and Alan stared in horror.
"It's taken me a year to get over seeing them." He
whispered loudly. I nudged him to be quiet.
"I see exactly what I'm missing." Said Sean and
grabbing his pretty wife kissed her passionately.
"Get the fuck out of my flat!" Roared Ruthie:"All
of you! That mean's you stupid!" (That being me)
"I hate you all! You and your stupid men!"
"Is this a lesbian moment?" Said Mal in my ear.
"And you can take Aunt Sally with you!" Ruth
slammed the bedroom door so hard a laughing
picture of Elvis hit the deck. Mal mouthed
Aunt Sally at me and pulled a face.
The the hardshit hit the fanny.
Becka M
We sat (we being myself, Alex, Ruth and the newly
acquired Mal) with our feet soaking in a babybath.
not much room with Mal's size 12's taking up all the
space. I had to have my feet on his, very nice in a
footy kind of way. His toes had little blondish tuffs
much like a Hobbit really only bigger.
We were sipping really cheap Asti and were all
getting nicely toasted. Alex looked a sight, her
hair was wrapped up as she was relaxing it and
on her face was a luminous green mask. Even
the very beautiful can look ugly sometimes.
Ruthie was in full bitch-mode and Mal eyed her
warily. I don't know if it was the David and Goliath
effect, but this big guy was certainly scared of our
little Ruthie (or at least very wary) can't say I
blame him.
We had watched both Bridget Jones and thrown
Dorito's at Renee Zellweger's face everytime
the shot went to close up.
"She's thin in real life." Remarked Mal. Ruth
resident anorexic and token psychotic glared at
him.
"I think she's still a heffing great pig!" She snarled,
showing whites of the eye and a fair bit of tooth.
Mal looked at me helplessly.
"She's hardly fat now." He whimpered.
"Most people are fat, your fat, Becka's fat, Alex...
Alex is ok (this is because Ruthie knew better then
to proceed) I think you could all do with a fucking
de-tox!"
"Piss off!" I said, but before it could escalated into
the usual nonsense the door bell rang.
"That fucking bell!" Said Ruthie:"I'll take the
fucker off I will!" She snatched open the door.
"Oh not you!" She shouted:"Becka, Alan-lame-
arse and Sean Pretty-Boybum are here!"
I looked at Alex and she looked at me in horror.
"Not Sean!" Tears made tracks down her sticky
face, she fled to the bathroom.
Alan and Sean entered the room like the sun
and the moon. Sean being the sun, blond, gorgeous,
tanned and unavailable. Alan limped in wearing his
trademark black and a scowl. A moon if ever I saw
one.
"Sorry Becka." Said Alan:"Sean arrived at mine,
he wants to see Alex." I love his casual scruffiness.
"No fucking way!" Said Ruth.
"She's my wife!" Shouted Sean.
"Your gay!" Snapped Ruth she was actally squaring
up to him!
Mal's ears pricked up:"He's gay?" He smiled at
Sean:"Didn't aye see you in Hardshit?"
We all looked at him.
Sean shook his head :"I don't think so." Bet he
had though.
Then Alex re-entered the room looking drop
dead gorgeous with her clean face and wet hair
and more to the point, naked. We all stared
and she was loving it.
"Take a good look Sean, see what your missing?"
Mal laughed hysterically and Alan stared in horror.
"It's taken me a year to get over seeing them." He
whispered loudly. I nudged him to be quiet.
"I see exactly what I'm missing." Said Sean and
grabbing his pretty wife kissed her passionately.
"Get the fuck out of my flat!" Roared Ruthie:"All
of you! That mean's you stupid!" (That being me)
"I hate you all! You and your stupid men!"
"Is this a lesbian moment?" Said Mal in my ear.
"And you can take Aunt Sally with you!" Ruth
slammed the bedroom door so hard a laughing
picture of Elvis hit the deck. Mal mouthed
Aunt Sally at me and pulled a face.
The the hardshit hit the fanny.
Becka M
Sunday, March 13, 2005
Tuesday, March 08, 2005
CHOCCIE DUNKIES AND SUGAR DUMPLINGS
Mothering sunday was the worst, sitting el commando
in my Juicy Couture (not juicy or couture) .I felt like
time stood still, only punctuated by Ma's heavy breathing
and Raine's tooth grinding. Jasper of course was the
letch from hell, kissing me and feeling my butt at the
same time (why is is when you want gas you never have
any?) Little Aidan was bored rigid, but he was a good
excuse to leave early and dine on Maccy D's.
Ma mentioned Patrick briefly i.e "Handsome bugger
isn't he?" With a wistful look. I shuddered, sex, elderly
folk, nah not doing it for me, yeuch.
On returning I took the longest bath ever, with a
beautiful rose scented bubblebath Ruthie was saving
for best, but I used it anyway.
Afterwards I lay on the couch just wrapped in a
towel and a fine dusting of Yardleys lavender talc,
love it, love it! Alex say's I smell like an old ladies
crotch but then who would know? My little titties
looked like sugar dumplings mmmm!
Just on the off chance I phoned Alan:
"Come over here." I said just like that.
A pause.
"What for?" He said.
"Because I'm clean and naked and I want you to
lick off my body powder and make me grubby
again!" I felt my self moisten and I squeezed my
knees tightly together.
He growled and put the phone down. Time past.
Blast.
He's not coming.
I always piss him off.
Maybe he's on his way.
Maybe he's not.
Am I pushing him too much?
Who gives a fuck?
The door sounded after 15 minutes.
I dropped my towel and opened the door
dramatically.
"Whose a naughty boy then?" I said.
Damn Pools man.
"Whoops! Sorry, I thought you were, someone else."
I laughed, christ he had to be about 80!
"For you honey I could be anybody!" He laughed and
sold me a coupon.
How humiliating.
But he did show-10 more minutes and he was doing
all those things with your tongue they never teach
you in speech therapy. (I had that, I was a slurrer-
still am after enough brandy).
"Oh Becks!" He moaned as I tried to insert a probing
finger into his anus. That stopped him for a minute.
"What are you doing woman?" He demanded.
"Feeling the merchandise, very nice, very fuckable.
Come on, pull on the dunkie!"
He froze.
"Fuck." He said.
"You haven't?" I said.
"I bloody well have you know! Frig!" He hit
his forehead in frustration, already the magic
wood was drooping.
"Hold that thought!" I said and slapped his arse
roughly, I ran through the house like a mad
woman. Condom raid! Alex and Ruth's drawers
were raided (you know what I mean!) nothing!
Nada! Herpes infested harlots! Where were the
dunkies? Then I remembered the choccie ones,
bought as a laugh from the pub, we had put them
on bananas and made ourselves sick one night.
Very mature-very us.
There was one left, still in it's little brown packet
stuck onto a KFC packet of salt. Eureka!
"Here we go." I said and chucked it at his head.
"You know what that means?" He said glowering
at me. He held it like it was The Grail itself.
I shook my head.
"It means a blowjob first." He grinned happily
(ciggie stains creeping back-I am a bad influence).
"Ok, but don't you dare come ! We have but one
chance of happiness." I warned.
"I will do." He nibbled my clit:"My." He licked my
nipples:"Best." It wobbled there like the biggest,
sauciest dong in the world.
"It looks obscene!" I laughed, then I stopped talking.
It was nice, hardly Haagan Daz but ok in a synthetic
sort of way. Then he slipped into me and the overwhelming
smell of ovaltine hit the air.
"Move that arse soldier!" I said, I love Alan for a scrawny
sparrow he can give it some wellie! He lifted me easily
and had me up against the wall, all the while I could
smell the cocoa, bit off putting really, but I was so in
the mood.
"Love you! You crazy cow!" he said.
From that man that was poetry!
Becka M&Ms
Mothering sunday was the worst, sitting el commando
in my Juicy Couture (not juicy or couture) .I felt like
time stood still, only punctuated by Ma's heavy breathing
and Raine's tooth grinding. Jasper of course was the
letch from hell, kissing me and feeling my butt at the
same time (why is is when you want gas you never have
any?) Little Aidan was bored rigid, but he was a good
excuse to leave early and dine on Maccy D's.
Ma mentioned Patrick briefly i.e "Handsome bugger
isn't he?" With a wistful look. I shuddered, sex, elderly
folk, nah not doing it for me, yeuch.
On returning I took the longest bath ever, with a
beautiful rose scented bubblebath Ruthie was saving
for best, but I used it anyway.
Afterwards I lay on the couch just wrapped in a
towel and a fine dusting of Yardleys lavender talc,
love it, love it! Alex say's I smell like an old ladies
crotch but then who would know? My little titties
looked like sugar dumplings mmmm!
Just on the off chance I phoned Alan:
"Come over here." I said just like that.
A pause.
"What for?" He said.
"Because I'm clean and naked and I want you to
lick off my body powder and make me grubby
again!" I felt my self moisten and I squeezed my
knees tightly together.
He growled and put the phone down. Time past.
Blast.
He's not coming.
I always piss him off.
Maybe he's on his way.
Maybe he's not.
Am I pushing him too much?
Who gives a fuck?
The door sounded after 15 minutes.
I dropped my towel and opened the door
dramatically.
"Whose a naughty boy then?" I said.
Damn Pools man.
"Whoops! Sorry, I thought you were, someone else."
I laughed, christ he had to be about 80!
"For you honey I could be anybody!" He laughed and
sold me a coupon.
How humiliating.
But he did show-10 more minutes and he was doing
all those things with your tongue they never teach
you in speech therapy. (I had that, I was a slurrer-
still am after enough brandy).
"Oh Becks!" He moaned as I tried to insert a probing
finger into his anus. That stopped him for a minute.
"What are you doing woman?" He demanded.
"Feeling the merchandise, very nice, very fuckable.
Come on, pull on the dunkie!"
He froze.
"Fuck." He said.
"You haven't?" I said.
"I bloody well have you know! Frig!" He hit
his forehead in frustration, already the magic
wood was drooping.
"Hold that thought!" I said and slapped his arse
roughly, I ran through the house like a mad
woman. Condom raid! Alex and Ruth's drawers
were raided (you know what I mean!) nothing!
Nada! Herpes infested harlots! Where were the
dunkies? Then I remembered the choccie ones,
bought as a laugh from the pub, we had put them
on bananas and made ourselves sick one night.
Very mature-very us.
There was one left, still in it's little brown packet
stuck onto a KFC packet of salt. Eureka!
"Here we go." I said and chucked it at his head.
"You know what that means?" He said glowering
at me. He held it like it was The Grail itself.
I shook my head.
"It means a blowjob first." He grinned happily
(ciggie stains creeping back-I am a bad influence).
"Ok, but don't you dare come ! We have but one
chance of happiness." I warned.
"I will do." He nibbled my clit:"My." He licked my
nipples:"Best." It wobbled there like the biggest,
sauciest dong in the world.
"It looks obscene!" I laughed, then I stopped talking.
It was nice, hardly Haagan Daz but ok in a synthetic
sort of way. Then he slipped into me and the overwhelming
smell of ovaltine hit the air.
"Move that arse soldier!" I said, I love Alan for a scrawny
sparrow he can give it some wellie! He lifted me easily
and had me up against the wall, all the while I could
smell the cocoa, bit off putting really, but I was so in
the mood.
"Love you! You crazy cow!" he said.
From that man that was poetry!
Becka M&Ms
Sunday, March 06, 2005
MITHERING SUNDAY
I was sleeping deeply on Ruth's sofa when the phone
sounded, we all ignored it as working girl's do on a
sunday morning after an extreme night on the lash.
I had introduced Ruth and Alex to Mal and they
thought he was delightful (he thought they were ho's
but so what?) Also I was still in that nice, after shag
feeling because of Alan. Oh yeah we had shagged like
dogs later that night and it had been heaven!
Few days later and I'm still floating on air, Alan phones
me most nights, it feels only a matter of time before we
will get back together.
Who ever phoned gave up and I drifted back to sleep.
What seemed like a second had passed then there was
a sharp rat-a-tat-tat on the door. I ignored it, Jehovahs,
not in the mood today.
Ruth answered the door dressed in just a t-shirt, I
heard her swear (twice) then hiss to me:
"Your bitch-sister is waiting in the kitchen with
her brat! Your'd better get up."
"Sister-thing?" I mumbled and fell to the floor, I
crawled along until my knees met tiles. I heard
Aidan laugh, I winked at him.
Raine was standing there with a white face an
a box of Milk Tray. She rolled her eye's when
she saw me. I couldn't make any sense of the
situation at all!
"Becka! It's Mothering Sunday, Ma's day!
please let's get this over quickly! I''ve bought
200 Benson for you to give her."
I didn't argue, Mother's day, her birthday and
Christmas were all solemnly acknowledged on
the off chance that she wouldn't live to see
another one. But the woman was strong damn it!
"Is she still with that creep?" I said.
"Jasper? Oh yes, he's not too bad is he?" Said
Raine.
"He is a sleazy snake, but yeah not as bad as
some of her blokes." (Both of us as girls could
testify that a lot of her boyfriends used to try
to get in bed with us-sometimes succeeding)
"She might ask you about Sir Patrick Beamish."
Warned Raine.
"Hmm, well she can sod off! That's my business."
But truth be told, Patrick hasn't contacted me in
a while. Maybe he thinks it's a bad idea.
"I wonder." Said Sister-thing as she checked the
buttons on Aidan's little parka:"Whether my father
is Mr Martin after all."
I bit my tongue.
"Who knows? Don't ask her today though, enough
drama already!"
I telephoned a cab.
"Why isn't D here?" I asked.
"Because he thinks Ma's the Antichrist."
She rooted in the cupboard and finding the biccie
tin gave Aidan a Jaffa cake.
"That's a bit harsh, I'm mean maybe a minor
demon, Antichrist is a bit rough though!"
"He has his reasons." She said darkly.
"I hate my life and my family, every bugger
seems to have their secrets!" I stormed.
"Ah shut up! Of course we do, that's what make's
them secrets. People do have private lifes Becks!"
Then the cabbie came and we were whisked off
into Blue rinse Hades.
Then I realized I still had my pajama bottoms on
a smelt like a brewery.
Becka M
I was sleeping deeply on Ruth's sofa when the phone
sounded, we all ignored it as working girl's do on a
sunday morning after an extreme night on the lash.
I had introduced Ruth and Alex to Mal and they
thought he was delightful (he thought they were ho's
but so what?) Also I was still in that nice, after shag
feeling because of Alan. Oh yeah we had shagged like
dogs later that night and it had been heaven!
Few days later and I'm still floating on air, Alan phones
me most nights, it feels only a matter of time before we
will get back together.
Who ever phoned gave up and I drifted back to sleep.
What seemed like a second had passed then there was
a sharp rat-a-tat-tat on the door. I ignored it, Jehovahs,
not in the mood today.
Ruth answered the door dressed in just a t-shirt, I
heard her swear (twice) then hiss to me:
"Your bitch-sister is waiting in the kitchen with
her brat! Your'd better get up."
"Sister-thing?" I mumbled and fell to the floor, I
crawled along until my knees met tiles. I heard
Aidan laugh, I winked at him.
Raine was standing there with a white face an
a box of Milk Tray. She rolled her eye's when
she saw me. I couldn't make any sense of the
situation at all!
"Becka! It's Mothering Sunday, Ma's day!
please let's get this over quickly! I''ve bought
200 Benson for you to give her."
I didn't argue, Mother's day, her birthday and
Christmas were all solemnly acknowledged on
the off chance that she wouldn't live to see
another one. But the woman was strong damn it!
"Is she still with that creep?" I said.
"Jasper? Oh yes, he's not too bad is he?" Said
Raine.
"He is a sleazy snake, but yeah not as bad as
some of her blokes." (Both of us as girls could
testify that a lot of her boyfriends used to try
to get in bed with us-sometimes succeeding)
"She might ask you about Sir Patrick Beamish."
Warned Raine.
"Hmm, well she can sod off! That's my business."
But truth be told, Patrick hasn't contacted me in
a while. Maybe he thinks it's a bad idea.
"I wonder." Said Sister-thing as she checked the
buttons on Aidan's little parka:"Whether my father
is Mr Martin after all."
I bit my tongue.
"Who knows? Don't ask her today though, enough
drama already!"
I telephoned a cab.
"Why isn't D here?" I asked.
"Because he thinks Ma's the Antichrist."
She rooted in the cupboard and finding the biccie
tin gave Aidan a Jaffa cake.
"That's a bit harsh, I'm mean maybe a minor
demon, Antichrist is a bit rough though!"
"He has his reasons." She said darkly.
"I hate my life and my family, every bugger
seems to have their secrets!" I stormed.
"Ah shut up! Of course we do, that's what make's
them secrets. People do have private lifes Becks!"
Then the cabbie came and we were whisked off
into Blue rinse Hades.
Then I realized I still had my pajama bottoms on
a smelt like a brewery.
Becka M
Wednesday, March 02, 2005
Sunday, February 27, 2005
ANOTHER FINE MESS
I am in a toilet cubicle and I am sucking a particularly
fine dick. How did this startling event come about?
And whose dick was I licking? All shall be revealed in
the fullness of time.
So there we are, me resplendent in Ruthie-stylie black
and Rhonda Redbuns dressed up like the green giant.
(But not so jolly.)
Where did we go? To LilacLace of course! I hadn't even
entered the building since all the unpleasantness, but
Rhon thought it would be good saturation therapy.
A distinct character change as a female, perhaps not for
the best- she came across like a bossy mad aunt.
Neck on the doors eyes widened when he saw me. (They
nearly fell out when they saw Rhon!)
"Fuck." He said, I winked at him and linked arms with
my amazing pal and waltzed passed him with my nose
in the air. What I didn't expect to find was Grady standing
there like an egg-shaped epi-centre of evil (how many
e's did I use then?)
"You've a nerve!" He said and his fat shook in angry
little riverlets, for some reason his flesh looked
succulent, like roast pork with crackling or maybe it
had been a long time since I had eaten.
"I've many, so many I've got a bloody nervous system!
Can't believe you're here Grady, I expected you to be
playing pass the soap with the rest of the Brixton
custodial!"
Grady's face grew red and sweaty like a tomato put
in a microwave. Ouch.
"You dirty ho!" He said and clearing his throat spat
directly into my surprised face. Before I had time
to react Rhonda grabbed Grady by the throat and gave
him a Glasgow kiss. Grady slipped to the floor, weebles
wobble but they don't fall down, oh yeah?
"Fucking hell!" I said.
Rhonda looked around panicking that someone might
have seen it happen.
"Ah shit Becks! I'm on probation I simply canna get
arrested!"
"Why did you headbutt the tosser for?" I shrieked.
"I'll not be havin' anyone spit on , ma friend!" He
looked so shy and vunerable, I gave him a quick
hug. Auntie Becks could make it better.
"I'd say let's scarper but it's not that simple, it's
probably on that CCTV camera up there." I lit a
ciggie:"I've a plan."
After Rhonda pushed and pulled Grady under a table,
we set our plan in action. First of all we needed to
get a diversion going.
"I'll do it-it was my fault." Breathed Rhon.
I flinched:"Hon I think this is my call, you go wait
for me outside."
"The fuck I will!" The voice was entirely male and
stubborn. Men!
"Ok! Look see that very handsome barman there?
Yeah the one with the thin moustache? Go and tell
him you've found Grady under the table and that
it looks like he's had a heart attack. I'll get that tape!"
Although I am no prude, sometimes my decisions
are not technically or ethically sound. If I actually
thought about my actions I really wouldn't get out
of bed in the morning! I had to do something low,
something base, but I had a friend in need to spur
me on. I was going to have to blow the security guard.
Becka M
I am in a toilet cubicle and I am sucking a particularly
fine dick. How did this startling event come about?
And whose dick was I licking? All shall be revealed in
the fullness of time.
So there we are, me resplendent in Ruthie-stylie black
and Rhonda Redbuns dressed up like the green giant.
(But not so jolly.)
Where did we go? To LilacLace of course! I hadn't even
entered the building since all the unpleasantness, but
Rhon thought it would be good saturation therapy.
A distinct character change as a female, perhaps not for
the best- she came across like a bossy mad aunt.
Neck on the doors eyes widened when he saw me. (They
nearly fell out when they saw Rhon!)
"Fuck." He said, I winked at him and linked arms with
my amazing pal and waltzed passed him with my nose
in the air. What I didn't expect to find was Grady standing
there like an egg-shaped epi-centre of evil (how many
e's did I use then?)
"You've a nerve!" He said and his fat shook in angry
little riverlets, for some reason his flesh looked
succulent, like roast pork with crackling or maybe it
had been a long time since I had eaten.
"I've many, so many I've got a bloody nervous system!
Can't believe you're here Grady, I expected you to be
playing pass the soap with the rest of the Brixton
custodial!"
Grady's face grew red and sweaty like a tomato put
in a microwave. Ouch.
"You dirty ho!" He said and clearing his throat spat
directly into my surprised face. Before I had time
to react Rhonda grabbed Grady by the throat and gave
him a Glasgow kiss. Grady slipped to the floor, weebles
wobble but they don't fall down, oh yeah?
"Fucking hell!" I said.
Rhonda looked around panicking that someone might
have seen it happen.
"Ah shit Becks! I'm on probation I simply canna get
arrested!"
"Why did you headbutt the tosser for?" I shrieked.
"I'll not be havin' anyone spit on , ma friend!" He
looked so shy and vunerable, I gave him a quick
hug. Auntie Becks could make it better.
"I'd say let's scarper but it's not that simple, it's
probably on that CCTV camera up there." I lit a
ciggie:"I've a plan."
After Rhonda pushed and pulled Grady under a table,
we set our plan in action. First of all we needed to
get a diversion going.
"I'll do it-it was my fault." Breathed Rhon.
I flinched:"Hon I think this is my call, you go wait
for me outside."
"The fuck I will!" The voice was entirely male and
stubborn. Men!
"Ok! Look see that very handsome barman there?
Yeah the one with the thin moustache? Go and tell
him you've found Grady under the table and that
it looks like he's had a heart attack. I'll get that tape!"
Although I am no prude, sometimes my decisions
are not technically or ethically sound. If I actually
thought about my actions I really wouldn't get out
of bed in the morning! I had to do something low,
something base, but I had a friend in need to spur
me on. I was going to have to blow the security guard.
Becka M
Tuesday, February 22, 2005
ENTER THE DRAG-QUEEN
Mal sipped his tea reflectively and looked at me
sadly saying: "Hen, your fucked!"
I nodded.
"I sooo am! What can I do Mal? My life is chaos and
challenges, my sex life is so complicated it needs
a personal agony aunt, my father is a Tory and my
Mum a Gangland bitch. What can I do?"
"Becka, you are a woman, you can shop! What else
could you do? As a gesture of goodwill you can choose
anything off the rails (as long as it's under £100) to
start the 'new you'! Now come on, I've a business to run
and you are waylaying me." I blinked in shock.
"Your Scottish and your offering me something for
free?" I laughed at the notion, so rare was it!
"Aw fuck off then!"
"You are a good man Mal." I smiled at him.
We had spoken, well I had for hours, I'd told him
near enough everything about myself save the brand
of my tampons. "I wish all men were like you." He
laughed at this loudly.
"I'm more man then your'll ever get and more woman
then your'll ever be." He smiled back:"Oh fuck the
shop! Lets get dressed up and hit the town!"
He sounded happy and who was I to argue? Mal could be
just what I was looking for. I watched him cooing over the
plus size dresses in a way that showed he had more
then a passing interest.
"Are you a transvestite Mal?" I asked as I struggled
into a courture dress that was obviously too big in
the breast-icle department.
"Am I fuck!" He laughed his giant's laugh:"Nooo way!
I'm a drag queen, I don't do that miming shit though-
I sing." He seemed very pleased with himself.
"Ah." I said:"I see." I winced thinking of his utterly
terrible tracks that were playing when I first entered
the shop.
"I go under the name of Rhonda Redbuns and I sing
in the style of Bette Midler."
"I've a sister who looks a bit like Bette." I said.
(Hey! Cheeky cow-Rainex)
"She doesn't sound much like her, she has the tit and
hair thing going on though." I said as I put a pair of fuck-
off flares on and a hippy-dipshit top.
"Aw no girl!" Roared Mal:"You look like Cher's dirty
knickers! Go upmarket!"
So obviously I chose black, a simple Ruthie-style black
dress, very well cut. I looked like an escaped secretary
from the 60's.
"Very nice!" Said Mal approvingly:"And myself?" He
stroked the front of his green silk dress seductively.
"Fantastic!" I enthused, he was about the worst, most
unrealistic woman I had ever seen. Eyeshadow from
hell, a dress that made him look like the ruddy Queen
Mother (if she was still alive and ever wore green
sequins), Eddie Izzard had better make-up skills. A wig
that looked like it had escaped a mating with a panda
and legs that boasted a thick auburn fuzz.
"We just need to fine tune this." I said:"Now take me
to your make-up remover!" I ordered.
"What ya mean?" He looked hurt, his square jaw
trembled then set in a pissed-off arch. Oh fuck.
"I mean." I said carefully:"You look great, truly you
do. But I am by trade a make-up artist, I'll show you
how to make the most of your strawberry blond
features." Small tip peeps (always call a ginger
strawberry blond, they will be putty in your hands!)
"Look at your face Mal! So beautiful but obscured by
make-up (crayons) and lipstick (goo) that is far
too (gaudy) strong for your (manly) lovely face."
"You think?" He said.
"Yeah I do, come on Cinders let's sort you out
love."
Mal suddenly turned me around:"We are strangers,
you haven't got to do anything you know."
I looked at him:"But I want to and I've nothing
else planned."
"I mean, you seem very used by the people in your
life. I'm not like that, besides your not my kind
of girl!" He grinned. I touched his arm.
"Thanks Mal, listen can we shave your legs?"
Becka M
Mal sipped his tea reflectively and looked at me
sadly saying: "Hen, your fucked!"
I nodded.
"I sooo am! What can I do Mal? My life is chaos and
challenges, my sex life is so complicated it needs
a personal agony aunt, my father is a Tory and my
Mum a Gangland bitch. What can I do?"
"Becka, you are a woman, you can shop! What else
could you do? As a gesture of goodwill you can choose
anything off the rails (as long as it's under £100) to
start the 'new you'! Now come on, I've a business to run
and you are waylaying me." I blinked in shock.
"Your Scottish and your offering me something for
free?" I laughed at the notion, so rare was it!
"Aw fuck off then!"
"You are a good man Mal." I smiled at him.
We had spoken, well I had for hours, I'd told him
near enough everything about myself save the brand
of my tampons. "I wish all men were like you." He
laughed at this loudly.
"I'm more man then your'll ever get and more woman
then your'll ever be." He smiled back:"Oh fuck the
shop! Lets get dressed up and hit the town!"
He sounded happy and who was I to argue? Mal could be
just what I was looking for. I watched him cooing over the
plus size dresses in a way that showed he had more
then a passing interest.
"Are you a transvestite Mal?" I asked as I struggled
into a courture dress that was obviously too big in
the breast-icle department.
"Am I fuck!" He laughed his giant's laugh:"Nooo way!
I'm a drag queen, I don't do that miming shit though-
I sing." He seemed very pleased with himself.
"Ah." I said:"I see." I winced thinking of his utterly
terrible tracks that were playing when I first entered
the shop.
"I go under the name of Rhonda Redbuns and I sing
in the style of Bette Midler."
"I've a sister who looks a bit like Bette." I said.
(Hey! Cheeky cow-Rainex)
"She doesn't sound much like her, she has the tit and
hair thing going on though." I said as I put a pair of fuck-
off flares on and a hippy-dipshit top.
"Aw no girl!" Roared Mal:"You look like Cher's dirty
knickers! Go upmarket!"
So obviously I chose black, a simple Ruthie-style black
dress, very well cut. I looked like an escaped secretary
from the 60's.
"Very nice!" Said Mal approvingly:"And myself?" He
stroked the front of his green silk dress seductively.
"Fantastic!" I enthused, he was about the worst, most
unrealistic woman I had ever seen. Eyeshadow from
hell, a dress that made him look like the ruddy Queen
Mother (if she was still alive and ever wore green
sequins), Eddie Izzard had better make-up skills. A wig
that looked like it had escaped a mating with a panda
and legs that boasted a thick auburn fuzz.
"We just need to fine tune this." I said:"Now take me
to your make-up remover!" I ordered.
"What ya mean?" He looked hurt, his square jaw
trembled then set in a pissed-off arch. Oh fuck.
"I mean." I said carefully:"You look great, truly you
do. But I am by trade a make-up artist, I'll show you
how to make the most of your strawberry blond
features." Small tip peeps (always call a ginger
strawberry blond, they will be putty in your hands!)
"Look at your face Mal! So beautiful but obscured by
make-up (crayons) and lipstick (goo) that is far
too (gaudy) strong for your (manly) lovely face."
"You think?" He said.
"Yeah I do, come on Cinders let's sort you out
love."
Mal suddenly turned me around:"We are strangers,
you haven't got to do anything you know."
I looked at him:"But I want to and I've nothing
else planned."
"I mean, you seem very used by the people in your
life. I'm not like that, besides your not my kind
of girl!" He grinned. I touched his arm.
"Thanks Mal, listen can we shave your legs?"
Becka M
Saturday, February 19, 2005
WRAP ME IN SILK
Well that was the name of the shop! I entered into a
world where all things were pretty, expensive and
deeply me. The music sucked though, Rick Astley
finished and Cameo began 'Word Up', I shuddered,
where was the good in all this?
I began to stroke the sleeve of a red silk kimono, very
sexy little dragons festooned themselves around the
sleeves. I became aware that someone was standing
very close to me, watching my every move.
I looked up into the weirdest, most incredible face that
I had ever seen! Sharp grey eyes and a huge nose
like an eagle's beak , a square and cleft jaw, but his
hair! Carrotty and abundant it fell to his shoulders
like a Ginger Jim Morrison and indeed he was wearing
leather trousers! Impressive bulges bulged in all the
right places, he stood easily six 4, six 5 and he was a big
guy- not fat but obviously a gym junkie. Gorgeous.
"Beaut-if-foool isn't it?" He purred in a deep and ultra
camp scottish accent. I nodded.
"Sure is, out of my price range I'm afraid." I shrugged.
"Is that so?" He said lightly. "Well please refrain from
fucking man-handling the merchandise if you can't afford
it!" He growled.
I was so shocked I burst out laughing on the spot.
He looked perplexed and then he laughed too, he stuck
out a Shrek dimensioned hand for me to shake (if I could
lift it).
"Mal." He said:"That's my name Mal, for Malcolm,
but don't call me that, it's Mal." He explained.
"Mal it is then! I'm Becka."
"Please to meet you Becka, have ye just come to browse?"
That way he said 'browse' was like bruise. For some
stupid, stupid reason I felt my eyes welling up, I sniffed
a bit.
"Aw for the love of Mary don't drip on the dresses!" He shrieked,
then to two of the customers at the other end of the shop.
"Will ye fuck off now already? Can' aye see I have a situation?"
The two women gave him a couple of evil glares then
left. Mal closed the shop.
"Come with me hen, lets have a brew, it will clear the
flews."
He ushered me through the shop at that very moment the
track changed to Adam and the Ant's Prince Charming,
so at least I was spared listening to that.
Becka M
Well that was the name of the shop! I entered into a
world where all things were pretty, expensive and
deeply me. The music sucked though, Rick Astley
finished and Cameo began 'Word Up', I shuddered,
where was the good in all this?
I began to stroke the sleeve of a red silk kimono, very
sexy little dragons festooned themselves around the
sleeves. I became aware that someone was standing
very close to me, watching my every move.
I looked up into the weirdest, most incredible face that
I had ever seen! Sharp grey eyes and a huge nose
like an eagle's beak , a square and cleft jaw, but his
hair! Carrotty and abundant it fell to his shoulders
like a Ginger Jim Morrison and indeed he was wearing
leather trousers! Impressive bulges bulged in all the
right places, he stood easily six 4, six 5 and he was a big
guy- not fat but obviously a gym junkie. Gorgeous.
"Beaut-if-foool isn't it?" He purred in a deep and ultra
camp scottish accent. I nodded.
"Sure is, out of my price range I'm afraid." I shrugged.
"Is that so?" He said lightly. "Well please refrain from
fucking man-handling the merchandise if you can't afford
it!" He growled.
I was so shocked I burst out laughing on the spot.
He looked perplexed and then he laughed too, he stuck
out a Shrek dimensioned hand for me to shake (if I could
lift it).
"Mal." He said:"That's my name Mal, for Malcolm,
but don't call me that, it's Mal." He explained.
"Mal it is then! I'm Becka."
"Please to meet you Becka, have ye just come to browse?"
That way he said 'browse' was like bruise. For some
stupid, stupid reason I felt my eyes welling up, I sniffed
a bit.
"Aw for the love of Mary don't drip on the dresses!" He shrieked,
then to two of the customers at the other end of the shop.
"Will ye fuck off now already? Can' aye see I have a situation?"
The two women gave him a couple of evil glares then
left. Mal closed the shop.
"Come with me hen, lets have a brew, it will clear the
flews."
He ushered me through the shop at that very moment the
track changed to Adam and the Ant's Prince Charming,
so at least I was spared listening to that.
Becka M
Tuesday, February 15, 2005
NEVER GONNA GIVE YOU UP
I felt decidedly seedy, like some sort of pervy old
geezer. If I had a crotch I'd be shuffling it and showing
little girls my maltesers. Not a Becka Martin look. I'm
heading faster then the speed of light to 35 and I still
don't have that 'significant other', very Bridget Jones!
Still I have Alan but he's hardly Colin Firth material.
Much too shabby, but in a funny way- sexier. Not that
I'd kick Mr Firth out of bed you understand (just in
case his press agent is reading hee-hee) so Colin are
you up for it?
Not that I have Alan, more like had, I feel the faster
I run towards him the further away he gets.
Ruthie. What an absolute cunt I've been to her. I mean
the girl is crazy about me and I use her when I want to.
It's just that I am a sort of trendy lesbo, I do it because
it feels good and I want to, but it's a man I want.
Trouble is, when I'm with Ruth I tend to turn into the
guy, she brings out a very butch persona that is only
hidden because I look all girly. She makes me feel ( I
blush really) she makes me feel that I'm the strong one,
I can do anything! And why not? It can work, look at
dead-girl Justine , straighter than a ruler and now
mysteriously turned into a Kylie Minogue dancer,
all voguey and intimate. But that's Angela influence ,
now that was a lady who knew what to do with a
chamois leather!
I told Sister-thing about Ruth and she went through
the roof (Ruth!! Sorry!) she really hates her.
"Not that sad little bitch again!" She squawked and
started to pace up and down like some angry little
clown that had escaped from the circus.
"Ruthie is ok, don't worry about it, really!" I blew a
perfect smoke oval and watched it rise. Dirty
habits are the most satisfying.
"She will start all that psycho stuff again! Becka
do you want trouble? I mean really you invite it
in at every opportunity!" Her pacing was reaching
lift off capacity, her hair has been known to
cause G force. I smirked at her and she stopped
pacing:"Your laughing at my hair again right?"
I nodded."Perhaps red is far too 'Maccy D' for
you." I allowed my mouth to curl higher, then she
brained me with an ash tray!
"Fuck of Becks! Don't change the subject!" She
yelled.
I sullenly stood up, head ringing, good job it was a
plastic ashtray that I had nicked from a pub. But
as I left I sang:"Be a clown! Be a clown-all the
world loves a clown!" And felt the door judder as
something Dog size hit it.
I rode my Vespa deep into the heart of Brixton,
further still heading towards Streatham.
Then I decided I needed to spend money, there
was a few little shops very Biba-esque that had
opened. I looked at the lovely shoes, bags and
coats that I could ill afford. Then I heard the
music blaring out of a shop that was painted the
colour of a split Cadbury's Cream egg. Chocolate,
white and orange. Music blared out, but such music!
Rick Astley! "Never gonna give you up!"
Intrigued I entered.
Becka M
I felt decidedly seedy, like some sort of pervy old
geezer. If I had a crotch I'd be shuffling it and showing
little girls my maltesers. Not a Becka Martin look. I'm
heading faster then the speed of light to 35 and I still
don't have that 'significant other', very Bridget Jones!
Still I have Alan but he's hardly Colin Firth material.
Much too shabby, but in a funny way- sexier. Not that
I'd kick Mr Firth out of bed you understand (just in
case his press agent is reading hee-hee) so Colin are
you up for it?
Not that I have Alan, more like had, I feel the faster
I run towards him the further away he gets.
Ruthie. What an absolute cunt I've been to her. I mean
the girl is crazy about me and I use her when I want to.
It's just that I am a sort of trendy lesbo, I do it because
it feels good and I want to, but it's a man I want.
Trouble is, when I'm with Ruth I tend to turn into the
guy, she brings out a very butch persona that is only
hidden because I look all girly. She makes me feel ( I
blush really) she makes me feel that I'm the strong one,
I can do anything! And why not? It can work, look at
dead-girl Justine , straighter than a ruler and now
mysteriously turned into a Kylie Minogue dancer,
all voguey and intimate. But that's Angela influence ,
now that was a lady who knew what to do with a
chamois leather!
I told Sister-thing about Ruth and she went through
the roof (Ruth!! Sorry!) she really hates her.
"Not that sad little bitch again!" She squawked and
started to pace up and down like some angry little
clown that had escaped from the circus.
"Ruthie is ok, don't worry about it, really!" I blew a
perfect smoke oval and watched it rise. Dirty
habits are the most satisfying.
"She will start all that psycho stuff again! Becka
do you want trouble? I mean really you invite it
in at every opportunity!" Her pacing was reaching
lift off capacity, her hair has been known to
cause G force. I smirked at her and she stopped
pacing:"Your laughing at my hair again right?"
I nodded."Perhaps red is far too 'Maccy D' for
you." I allowed my mouth to curl higher, then she
brained me with an ash tray!
"Fuck of Becks! Don't change the subject!" She
yelled.
I sullenly stood up, head ringing, good job it was a
plastic ashtray that I had nicked from a pub. But
as I left I sang:"Be a clown! Be a clown-all the
world loves a clown!" And felt the door judder as
something Dog size hit it.
I rode my Vespa deep into the heart of Brixton,
further still heading towards Streatham.
Then I decided I needed to spend money, there
was a few little shops very Biba-esque that had
opened. I looked at the lovely shoes, bags and
coats that I could ill afford. Then I heard the
music blaring out of a shop that was painted the
colour of a split Cadbury's Cream egg. Chocolate,
white and orange. Music blared out, but such music!
Rick Astley! "Never gonna give you up!"
Intrigued I entered.
Becka M
Friday, February 11, 2005
TARTS
I feel like I need to be mated, for real. Mr Pointy is a
cool dude but sometimes a girl needs something to
hold onto. I so badly need a fuck I think I am going to
do myself and injury! Friction burns are so teenage.
Ruth and her bread-and-butter sex! Sex because you
need it rather then wanting it. Well she is right but I'm
fresh out of Utterly Butterly, namely stupid Jeff getting
himself arrested and Mickey 'The Daddy' Straw getting
his wife pregnant every few months. Wankers.
I'm left with the Twins (oh please leave me with them!
30 minutes will do it) but I can't do that to Alan.
Skinner perverted Gollum of a wretch, well he is handy
with a rope. Angela, nope she's a Love-Mummy for
Justine's corpse-girl. Max, Angela's moody gothy son,
nice but a fetching shade of green.
Of course the best answer would be to jump Alan and
completely fry his brains out with multiple dick suckings.
A man tends to be more pliable after that.
Have I missed any out? I hope so because I'm really at my
wits end. Alex is out doing a shoot for perfume (now how
silly is that?) and I'm sitting on the sofa wearing a Central
Park t-shirt and a pair of Calvin's.
Ruth is in the kitchen pretending to eat things (Usually
involving a great deal of spitting into the binbag-nice).
She looks good actually, leather mini skirt, high boots,
Honky Tonk hat (you are awful!) and heavy black eyeliner.
She looks like a lolita, even though she is quite 30 something.
She see's me looking.
"Alright fuckface? Want a jam tart?" She says like the
chirpy cockney she is.
I grin at her:"Feed me it." I say, her eyebrows raise.
"You are a lazy cunt." She mumbles but standing on tiptoe
(and I don't make it easier for her) she proffers the
Mr Kipling special.
"That's not the tart I want." Sometimes I really am just a
big man.
"Oh?" She removes her stupid hat and her blonde hair
swings past her cheeks making her look like a Timotei
advert. But she's smiling.
I take her hand and lead her to the bedroom.
I know this is wrong wrong wrong.
Becka M
I feel like I need to be mated, for real. Mr Pointy is a
cool dude but sometimes a girl needs something to
hold onto. I so badly need a fuck I think I am going to
do myself and injury! Friction burns are so teenage.
Ruth and her bread-and-butter sex! Sex because you
need it rather then wanting it. Well she is right but I'm
fresh out of Utterly Butterly, namely stupid Jeff getting
himself arrested and Mickey 'The Daddy' Straw getting
his wife pregnant every few months. Wankers.
I'm left with the Twins (oh please leave me with them!
30 minutes will do it) but I can't do that to Alan.
Skinner perverted Gollum of a wretch, well he is handy
with a rope. Angela, nope she's a Love-Mummy for
Justine's corpse-girl. Max, Angela's moody gothy son,
nice but a fetching shade of green.
Of course the best answer would be to jump Alan and
completely fry his brains out with multiple dick suckings.
A man tends to be more pliable after that.
Have I missed any out? I hope so because I'm really at my
wits end. Alex is out doing a shoot for perfume (now how
silly is that?) and I'm sitting on the sofa wearing a Central
Park t-shirt and a pair of Calvin's.
Ruth is in the kitchen pretending to eat things (Usually
involving a great deal of spitting into the binbag-nice).
She looks good actually, leather mini skirt, high boots,
Honky Tonk hat (you are awful!) and heavy black eyeliner.
She looks like a lolita, even though she is quite 30 something.
She see's me looking.
"Alright fuckface? Want a jam tart?" She says like the
chirpy cockney she is.
I grin at her:"Feed me it." I say, her eyebrows raise.
"You are a lazy cunt." She mumbles but standing on tiptoe
(and I don't make it easier for her) she proffers the
Mr Kipling special.
"That's not the tart I want." Sometimes I really am just a
big man.
"Oh?" She removes her stupid hat and her blonde hair
swings past her cheeks making her look like a Timotei
advert. But she's smiling.
I take her hand and lead her to the bedroom.
I know this is wrong wrong wrong.
Becka M
Tuesday, February 08, 2005
ME AND MR POINTY
Buffy the Vampire Slayer had a stake called 'Mr Pointy',
I too have an object of the same name. However mine is
a discreet, beautifully smooth and shiny vibrator.
Don't all start 'Rabbiting' me at once, I've had quite a few
Rampant Rabbits from Ms Summers and I have to say
they are good, but sooo noisy! Mr Pointy is quiet and
reliable, because of this silence I can indulge in fantasy,
he can be who I want him to be.
You have to remember guys masturbation is healthy,
especially in someone like myself who hasn't had sex
in yonks, you have to do it else it'll atrophy, i.e use it
or lose it.
Also it's getting the timing right, never in a million
years would I have a wank round Sister-thing's flat,
I'd be way too self conscious. At Ruth's and Alex it
can also be a bit intense, Ruth would ignore it but Alex
might shout out:"Will you stop that damn frigging!"
She always seems to know when I 'm playing with
myself. I think she has a direct and psychic link
to my vagina.
Oh god I need a man!
I phoned Alan up:
"What are you doing?" I said.
"Watching a dvd of Last of the Summer Wine."
"Why would you do that?" I said in disbelief at his
bad taste.
"Because I think it's funny of course!" I could detect a
faint pissed off tone in his voice.
"Do you think your one of them? Your not that old you
know!" I teased imagining him wellies.
"Becka stop being a cow, what do you really want?"
He was definitely irked!
"I want." (A fuck)"I want you to come over." My voice had
that unattractive pubescent whine.
"Not a good idea Becks." He said flatly.
"Don't you love me anymore?"
"Of course I do! But I think that we have perhaps one
of the most destructive relationships ever, I truly
think that if we are meant to be together we will be.
You just have to be patient."
"That's thick!" I snapped:"What are you waiting for a
sign from The Almighty? Get real, we are two people
who need eachother and I need you now. Please
come over Alan, I'm begging you." I hate it when I
act all graspy and demanding, he does bring out
that side of me. I just want to cling to him.
"The twins told me about your little massage." He
said dryly. Oh shit the little twits!
"It was nothing!" I squeaked.
"Hmm. Look I'm not coming over, I'll phone you in a
couple of days, we'll have lunch, or something."
It sounded like he wasn't interested, after all we had
been through and I still wanted to tell him about my
'Dad'.
"Alan don't go." I said quietly.
"Becka, I can't do this with you, I really don't know
if I can make myself be this vunerable again." So
he was hurting too.
"Can't we just take it slowly, be together and see how
we go?" I said gently, trying to coax him back to me.
"No we can't. It's all or nothing and at this stage I've
nothing to give you." I heard him gasp:"But I will come
over. Just don't expect too much." He warned.
"Fantastic, I can't wait." I put the phone down and
humped over the sofas like an excited puppy.
Yippee!!!
But I knew in my heart that we had a long way to go
and the worst thing possible would be for me to jump
on him the minute he walked through the door!
So here is where Mr Pointy came in, he became my
beloved Alan.
"It's been a longtime." He said in his deep treacly voice.
"Forever." I sighed.
He knelt at my feet and his face nuzzled against my
G-string, gently he pulled it to the side and breathed
deeply against my flesh.
"Such a longtime." He said and eased my pants over
my hip bones. He pulled me forwards so that he
could explore the very core of me with his tongue,
I twisted and squirmed, it felt like Christmas with
snow. I was yanking great handfuls of his gorgeous
hair and letting it run through my fingers like silk.
He smelt so good, tobacco, brandy and his own clean
smell mixed with Imperial Leather no doubt.
I could feel myself building up to come:"Please!" I
mumbled. Carefully he unzipped himself and he
sprang out like a jack in the box! I'd forgotten just
how beloved his cock was to me. I kissed it's pearly
head.
"No I want to be inside you."He said and pulled me
on top of him. I was so wet and ready that the
friction made it seem delicious and ripe.
He was lifting me with his strength and need and
I was saying his name again and again. I came so
hard that I almost fell straight to sleep in exhaustion.
I felt doped and happy on sex. Then I remembered
that I was alone on the lounge floor with Mr Pointy
and Alan was on his way. I smiled a secret smile
as I went to ready myself.
Becka M
Buffy the Vampire Slayer had a stake called 'Mr Pointy',
I too have an object of the same name. However mine is
a discreet, beautifully smooth and shiny vibrator.
Don't all start 'Rabbiting' me at once, I've had quite a few
Rampant Rabbits from Ms Summers and I have to say
they are good, but sooo noisy! Mr Pointy is quiet and
reliable, because of this silence I can indulge in fantasy,
he can be who I want him to be.
You have to remember guys masturbation is healthy,
especially in someone like myself who hasn't had sex
in yonks, you have to do it else it'll atrophy, i.e use it
or lose it.
Also it's getting the timing right, never in a million
years would I have a wank round Sister-thing's flat,
I'd be way too self conscious. At Ruth's and Alex it
can also be a bit intense, Ruth would ignore it but Alex
might shout out:"Will you stop that damn frigging!"
She always seems to know when I 'm playing with
myself. I think she has a direct and psychic link
to my vagina.
Oh god I need a man!
I phoned Alan up:
"What are you doing?" I said.
"Watching a dvd of Last of the Summer Wine."
"Why would you do that?" I said in disbelief at his
bad taste.
"Because I think it's funny of course!" I could detect a
faint pissed off tone in his voice.
"Do you think your one of them? Your not that old you
know!" I teased imagining him wellies.
"Becka stop being a cow, what do you really want?"
He was definitely irked!
"I want." (A fuck)"I want you to come over." My voice had
that unattractive pubescent whine.
"Not a good idea Becks." He said flatly.
"Don't you love me anymore?"
"Of course I do! But I think that we have perhaps one
of the most destructive relationships ever, I truly
think that if we are meant to be together we will be.
You just have to be patient."
"That's thick!" I snapped:"What are you waiting for a
sign from The Almighty? Get real, we are two people
who need eachother and I need you now. Please
come over Alan, I'm begging you." I hate it when I
act all graspy and demanding, he does bring out
that side of me. I just want to cling to him.
"The twins told me about your little massage." He
said dryly. Oh shit the little twits!
"It was nothing!" I squeaked.
"Hmm. Look I'm not coming over, I'll phone you in a
couple of days, we'll have lunch, or something."
It sounded like he wasn't interested, after all we had
been through and I still wanted to tell him about my
'Dad'.
"Alan don't go." I said quietly.
"Becka, I can't do this with you, I really don't know
if I can make myself be this vunerable again." So
he was hurting too.
"Can't we just take it slowly, be together and see how
we go?" I said gently, trying to coax him back to me.
"No we can't. It's all or nothing and at this stage I've
nothing to give you." I heard him gasp:"But I will come
over. Just don't expect too much." He warned.
"Fantastic, I can't wait." I put the phone down and
humped over the sofas like an excited puppy.
Yippee!!!
But I knew in my heart that we had a long way to go
and the worst thing possible would be for me to jump
on him the minute he walked through the door!
So here is where Mr Pointy came in, he became my
beloved Alan.
"It's been a longtime." He said in his deep treacly voice.
"Forever." I sighed.
He knelt at my feet and his face nuzzled against my
G-string, gently he pulled it to the side and breathed
deeply against my flesh.
"Such a longtime." He said and eased my pants over
my hip bones. He pulled me forwards so that he
could explore the very core of me with his tongue,
I twisted and squirmed, it felt like Christmas with
snow. I was yanking great handfuls of his gorgeous
hair and letting it run through my fingers like silk.
He smelt so good, tobacco, brandy and his own clean
smell mixed with Imperial Leather no doubt.
I could feel myself building up to come:"Please!" I
mumbled. Carefully he unzipped himself and he
sprang out like a jack in the box! I'd forgotten just
how beloved his cock was to me. I kissed it's pearly
head.
"No I want to be inside you."He said and pulled me
on top of him. I was so wet and ready that the
friction made it seem delicious and ripe.
He was lifting me with his strength and need and
I was saying his name again and again. I came so
hard that I almost fell straight to sleep in exhaustion.
I felt doped and happy on sex. Then I remembered
that I was alone on the lounge floor with Mr Pointy
and Alan was on his way. I smiled a secret smile
as I went to ready myself.
Becka M
Thursday, February 03, 2005
KEEPERS
He is perhaps the most challenging man that I
have ever met (and I've met some!) it's his sharpness
bordering on down right rudeness. The way he talked
to the barman was a shame. He might have well have
said:'Lick my boots serf!'
Patrick's luminous eyes stared at me through the
smoky bar, he seemed wryly amused by me.
"Well." I said( you have to say something) that's how
a conversation is started.
"I think this is going to be hard work, I think that
we should drink more." He said sagely. Blimey.
"Maybe, but would it make any sense?"
"Possibly not, but when does anything in life make
any sense at at? If you analyze everything it all
boils down to the same thing. Men and women
making mistakes, it's called 'living'." He grinned
at me, he looked like some sort of elderly vampire
(by elderly I mean about 60, which is plenty old
enough-for a vampire anyway).
"Wow!" I said:"I've got to 34 without realizing
that! Who knew it would all boil down to men
and women fucking up. I suppose I am a mistake?"
"Naturally! You don't think that I would want to be
bonded by blood to your mother do you?" He
laughed, showing extremely good teeth. But he
had a point. Mother was a bitch queen of the highest
order.
"Mother yeah, what a little star she is! How did
you meet her, please tell as she was married to
my father at the time." I allowed venom to drip
into my words. He wasn't having it though.
"Your Mother, Vanessa was the type of women
that they warn you about in public school. I was
intrigued by her, besotted, she was so very pretty
like a little chain-smoking pekinese. Vanessa
Worked for Catherine as her 'help' nowdays you
would call it a PA's position. She did everything,
even cleaned the kitchen floor when one of
the hounds was sick." Patrick looked wistful.
"I remember watching her small bottom going
from side to side, then she looked at me and
smiled, that very wicked smile of hers. She had
me, but alas it was not meant to be. Later I
realized that Catherine knew what was going on,
which was breaking her heart. Then I noticed
just how tarnished your Vanessa really was.
I mean she was involved in Gangland, not good
at all for a man in my position. I had to let her
go." He said sadly shaking his head.
"Ok how very callous of you-practically throwing
her out into the snow, pregnant as well." I sipped
my brandy.
"Not quite, but she could have been a bit of a
Christine Keeler figure if I had let her, a pay off
and a few words of caution stopped all of that."
He spoke so coldly.
"And you really didn't know about me?" I found
this hard to believe.
"The first I knew about you was when I saw a
photo of you in The London Press and a statement
from your Mother." His eyes twinkled, oh dear he
must have read that miniscule paragraph regarding
Thrumz and Jeff the lunatic. How embarrassing.
"Ah." I sighed.
"When I saw your face I saw myself. Rebecca I
wanted to, I still want to know you." He reached
across and stroked my face.
"God this is weird-I feel like I'm almost not
'myself', you know?" I frowned.
"Look finders keepers, your mine now, nobody
is going to mess this up." Again that vulpine smile.
"Oh and for the record Ma's name is Valerie not
Vanessa."
"I feel crushed now." He said and we both laughed.
"Wait until I see her I'll give her bloody Vanessa!"
We spent the next 20 minutes drinking quietly and
looking at eachother.
"Barman, we'll have the same again, oh and make
it clean glasses next time!" He barked. Yes a challenge.
Becka M
He is perhaps the most challenging man that I
have ever met (and I've met some!) it's his sharpness
bordering on down right rudeness. The way he talked
to the barman was a shame. He might have well have
said:'Lick my boots serf!'
Patrick's luminous eyes stared at me through the
smoky bar, he seemed wryly amused by me.
"Well." I said( you have to say something) that's how
a conversation is started.
"I think this is going to be hard work, I think that
we should drink more." He said sagely. Blimey.
"Maybe, but would it make any sense?"
"Possibly not, but when does anything in life make
any sense at at? If you analyze everything it all
boils down to the same thing. Men and women
making mistakes, it's called 'living'." He grinned
at me, he looked like some sort of elderly vampire
(by elderly I mean about 60, which is plenty old
enough-for a vampire anyway).
"Wow!" I said:"I've got to 34 without realizing
that! Who knew it would all boil down to men
and women fucking up. I suppose I am a mistake?"
"Naturally! You don't think that I would want to be
bonded by blood to your mother do you?" He
laughed, showing extremely good teeth. But he
had a point. Mother was a bitch queen of the highest
order.
"Mother yeah, what a little star she is! How did
you meet her, please tell as she was married to
my father at the time." I allowed venom to drip
into my words. He wasn't having it though.
"Your Mother, Vanessa was the type of women
that they warn you about in public school. I was
intrigued by her, besotted, she was so very pretty
like a little chain-smoking pekinese. Vanessa
Worked for Catherine as her 'help' nowdays you
would call it a PA's position. She did everything,
even cleaned the kitchen floor when one of
the hounds was sick." Patrick looked wistful.
"I remember watching her small bottom going
from side to side, then she looked at me and
smiled, that very wicked smile of hers. She had
me, but alas it was not meant to be. Later I
realized that Catherine knew what was going on,
which was breaking her heart. Then I noticed
just how tarnished your Vanessa really was.
I mean she was involved in Gangland, not good
at all for a man in my position. I had to let her
go." He said sadly shaking his head.
"Ok how very callous of you-practically throwing
her out into the snow, pregnant as well." I sipped
my brandy.
"Not quite, but she could have been a bit of a
Christine Keeler figure if I had let her, a pay off
and a few words of caution stopped all of that."
He spoke so coldly.
"And you really didn't know about me?" I found
this hard to believe.
"The first I knew about you was when I saw a
photo of you in The London Press and a statement
from your Mother." His eyes twinkled, oh dear he
must have read that miniscule paragraph regarding
Thrumz and Jeff the lunatic. How embarrassing.
"Ah." I sighed.
"When I saw your face I saw myself. Rebecca I
wanted to, I still want to know you." He reached
across and stroked my face.
"God this is weird-I feel like I'm almost not
'myself', you know?" I frowned.
"Look finders keepers, your mine now, nobody
is going to mess this up." Again that vulpine smile.
"Oh and for the record Ma's name is Valerie not
Vanessa."
"I feel crushed now." He said and we both laughed.
"Wait until I see her I'll give her bloody Vanessa!"
We spent the next 20 minutes drinking quietly and
looking at eachother.
"Barman, we'll have the same again, oh and make
it clean glasses next time!" He barked. Yes a challenge.
Becka M
Tuesday, February 01, 2005
DEAREST HEART
The policeman eyed me suspiciously-I had walked
past the House of Commons 3 times and still could
not stop.
"Help you Miss?" He said in the same tone as he
might say 'Your nicked!"
"Um, yeah, no, I'm just waiting for someone."
I mumbled.
Then I saw him striding across the forecourt
like Darth-bloody-Vader-Sir Patrick Beamish
AKA Dad. Oh shit my innards turned to puree.
"Rebecca?" He says squinting into my face.
"That's right."
Policeman's eyebrows were raising and a funny
half-smile quirked his lips. I bet he thought I was
an escort.
I could not help stare at this man, he was my sire,
my origins. I could see myself mirrored in his sharp
blue eyes and pitchy hair. I hoped my hair would be so
streaky when I got older. He was not as easy in his
body as me, he carried himself stiffly with his elbows
tucked tightly in (as though he was trying to control
himself) would I be that disciplined one day?
"There is a public house across by the station."
Said Patrick and almost forcefully linked his arm
through mine.
Policeman's mouth was twitching away like he
had Tourettes.
"Right!" I said but my heart was saying 'wrong'.
Just as I turned the Policeman gave me one of the
most evillest winks I've ever received. Quite
purposely I pulled my tongue out at him.
"Dearest heart you can not imagine what this
means to me." Said Patrick as we crossed the
road and made tracks to the pub.
The air was sharp and cold.
"It's too strange." I muttered.
"Strange can be good." He said and smiled and
that smile did it. Toothy like me, friendly
and decidably wicked. Even being a Tory could
not change the fact-I think I was going to like
this fella.
Becka M
The policeman eyed me suspiciously-I had walked
past the House of Commons 3 times and still could
not stop.
"Help you Miss?" He said in the same tone as he
might say 'Your nicked!"
"Um, yeah, no, I'm just waiting for someone."
I mumbled.
Then I saw him striding across the forecourt
like Darth-bloody-Vader-Sir Patrick Beamish
AKA Dad. Oh shit my innards turned to puree.
"Rebecca?" He says squinting into my face.
"That's right."
Policeman's eyebrows were raising and a funny
half-smile quirked his lips. I bet he thought I was
an escort.
I could not help stare at this man, he was my sire,
my origins. I could see myself mirrored in his sharp
blue eyes and pitchy hair. I hoped my hair would be so
streaky when I got older. He was not as easy in his
body as me, he carried himself stiffly with his elbows
tucked tightly in (as though he was trying to control
himself) would I be that disciplined one day?
"There is a public house across by the station."
Said Patrick and almost forcefully linked his arm
through mine.
Policeman's mouth was twitching away like he
had Tourettes.
"Right!" I said but my heart was saying 'wrong'.
Just as I turned the Policeman gave me one of the
most evillest winks I've ever received. Quite
purposely I pulled my tongue out at him.
"Dearest heart you can not imagine what this
means to me." Said Patrick as we crossed the
road and made tracks to the pub.
The air was sharp and cold.
"It's too strange." I muttered.
"Strange can be good." He said and smiled and
that smile did it. Toothy like me, friendly
and decidably wicked. Even being a Tory could
not change the fact-I think I was going to like
this fella.
Becka M
Friday, January 28, 2005
HIS LAUGH
"Sir Patrick Beamish ex-chairman of 1922 club,
influential back bencher and grandee. Perhaps
one of the few old school Conservative MPs who is
untarnished by scandal." Said the quote from
the broadsheet I was reading in the British Library
archives.
A small picture showed a tall thin man, with piercing
blue eyes and black and white streaked hair. A younger
picture showed him at Oxford arsing about with his
friends. They looked very nice. He looked bored.
A wedding photo of Patrick marrying a young hopeful
looking girl called Catherine, she was all hunched up
in shock and bewilderment-he had serial killer eyes.
Nice touch. No children. Until now.
I phoned the mobile number:
"Patrick Beamish." Said his voice.
Shit-my tongue stuck to my mouth like cheese to
a pizza.
"Hello?" Curt now and inpatient.
I could feel the blood rushing in my ears.
"Hi, um it's Becka." I mumbled.
"I think you must have the wrong number."
"I don't think so, you posted me a letter." I
said quickly.
"I did? Could it be, Rebecca?" His voice caught
with emotion and hope.
"Yeah, Rebecca Martin, but I like to be called Becka."
"Where are you?" He asked.
"I'm not far from Kings Cross." I said.
"Kings Cross?" His voice sounded like he found it
quite offensive.
"I don't live there! I was in the library." I laughed.
"Can you come here? To The House of Commons?"
"Why not? I'll catch the tube."
"I feel quite nervous." He said and laughed (my
laugh, gravelly and deep).
"This feels so strange." I said.
"See you in moment then." He said suddenly and
coldly hanging up in the process.
Did I want this man in my life? I was intrigued-
this was quite new for me. Not knowing how to act
around a man.
Ma had a fucking lot to answer for!
I just could not get over his laugh.
Becka
"Sir Patrick Beamish ex-chairman of 1922 club,
influential back bencher and grandee. Perhaps
one of the few old school Conservative MPs who is
untarnished by scandal." Said the quote from
the broadsheet I was reading in the British Library
archives.
A small picture showed a tall thin man, with piercing
blue eyes and black and white streaked hair. A younger
picture showed him at Oxford arsing about with his
friends. They looked very nice. He looked bored.
A wedding photo of Patrick marrying a young hopeful
looking girl called Catherine, she was all hunched up
in shock and bewilderment-he had serial killer eyes.
Nice touch. No children. Until now.
I phoned the mobile number:
"Patrick Beamish." Said his voice.
Shit-my tongue stuck to my mouth like cheese to
a pizza.
"Hello?" Curt now and inpatient.
I could feel the blood rushing in my ears.
"Hi, um it's Becka." I mumbled.
"I think you must have the wrong number."
"I don't think so, you posted me a letter." I
said quickly.
"I did? Could it be, Rebecca?" His voice caught
with emotion and hope.
"Yeah, Rebecca Martin, but I like to be called Becka."
"Where are you?" He asked.
"I'm not far from Kings Cross." I said.
"Kings Cross?" His voice sounded like he found it
quite offensive.
"I don't live there! I was in the library." I laughed.
"Can you come here? To The House of Commons?"
"Why not? I'll catch the tube."
"I feel quite nervous." He said and laughed (my
laugh, gravelly and deep).
"This feels so strange." I said.
"See you in moment then." He said suddenly and
coldly hanging up in the process.
Did I want this man in my life? I was intrigued-
this was quite new for me. Not knowing how to act
around a man.
Ma had a fucking lot to answer for!
I just could not get over his laugh.
Becka
Wednesday, January 26, 2005
GRRRR
I confronted Mother in (my) her flat:
"Take a look at this." I said and thrust the letter
into her impeccably manicured hands.
She squinted at it.
"Put on your glasses for fucksake!" I snapped.
"Do you mind?" She said and placed her Chanel
gold rimmed specs on. She looked like a librarian.
I saw the smallest line crease her forehead.
"What do you want me to say?" She said.
I exploded like a water filled balloon.
"Say! I want you to tell me that it's not true
and that this Tory Cunt is lying." I actually stamped
my feet.
"That Tory cunt is lying." She repeated.
"Really?" I said hopefully.
"It's none of your business! It's part of my
private life." I could see she was shaken though,
it was the way that she made for the drinks
cabinet even though it was only 10.30am.
"Of course it's my business! I thought I knew
who I was! Who I am! Should I meet him?
Do you care if I meet him?" I was hysterically
trying to get a reaction from her.
"Do what you want to do-you always do anyway.
Meet him. He's alright." She conceded.
"Just like that? 'You meet him' like it's a bloody
everyday event! So you are admitting that you knew
this 'Patrick Beamish'?" I squinted at her, but she
turned away and shrugged.
"I'll admit nothing." And she lit a cigarette. Bitch.
As I left I shouted:"You always liked Raine better
then me anyway!"
"Not at all-I just loved her father very much."
I looked at Ma and tears were in her eyes.
"Yeah?" I said angrily:"You had a funny fucking
way of showing it, shagging some politician behind
Dad's back." I sneered showing acres of gum, not
a pretty look at all. Mother laughed.
"Piss off Rebecca go see your MP."
I slammed the door and kicked it on the way out.
Julie the nurse who lived upstairs and in pajamas
opened the window.
"Long time no see Becks! Keep the noise down can't
you?"
I waved and walked down the road like Richard
Ashcroft in 'Bittersweet symphony' taking no
prisoners but not jumping over chav bitches cars.
I want my flat back, my man and my life. But do
I want this stranger, this conservative? We'll see-
oh yes.
Becka MARTIAN
I confronted Mother in (my) her flat:
"Take a look at this." I said and thrust the letter
into her impeccably manicured hands.
She squinted at it.
"Put on your glasses for fucksake!" I snapped.
"Do you mind?" She said and placed her Chanel
gold rimmed specs on. She looked like a librarian.
I saw the smallest line crease her forehead.
"What do you want me to say?" She said.
I exploded like a water filled balloon.
"Say! I want you to tell me that it's not true
and that this Tory Cunt is lying." I actually stamped
my feet.
"That Tory cunt is lying." She repeated.
"Really?" I said hopefully.
"It's none of your business! It's part of my
private life." I could see she was shaken though,
it was the way that she made for the drinks
cabinet even though it was only 10.30am.
"Of course it's my business! I thought I knew
who I was! Who I am! Should I meet him?
Do you care if I meet him?" I was hysterically
trying to get a reaction from her.
"Do what you want to do-you always do anyway.
Meet him. He's alright." She conceded.
"Just like that? 'You meet him' like it's a bloody
everyday event! So you are admitting that you knew
this 'Patrick Beamish'?" I squinted at her, but she
turned away and shrugged.
"I'll admit nothing." And she lit a cigarette. Bitch.
As I left I shouted:"You always liked Raine better
then me anyway!"
"Not at all-I just loved her father very much."
I looked at Ma and tears were in her eyes.
"Yeah?" I said angrily:"You had a funny fucking
way of showing it, shagging some politician behind
Dad's back." I sneered showing acres of gum, not
a pretty look at all. Mother laughed.
"Piss off Rebecca go see your MP."
I slammed the door and kicked it on the way out.
Julie the nurse who lived upstairs and in pajamas
opened the window.
"Long time no see Becks! Keep the noise down can't
you?"
I waved and walked down the road like Richard
Ashcroft in 'Bittersweet symphony' taking no
prisoners but not jumping over chav bitches cars.
I want my flat back, my man and my life. But do
I want this stranger, this conservative? We'll see-
oh yes.
Becka MARTIAN
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