Well! What a year! I can’t really start this “Cheery Christmas Round Robin” any other way than to acknowledge how four words have transformed our lives in 2012! It all began when, while we were supposed to be shopping for really sturdy support garments, my best girl-chum Bunty Bigguns thrust a copy of ‘Fifty Shades of Grey’ at me. She gave me a conspiratorial wink and said “Trust me, Glo, slip this into Smuddy’s copy of Muckspreader Weekly and you won’t know what’s hit you!”
I wasn’t expecting much when I did actually wrap his copy of MW round this doorstop of a novel but, boy-oh-boy, were my eyes going to be opened in the weeks to come! The last time he showed any interest whatsoever in a piece of printed matter was back in 1994 when Motocross Monthly featured a picture of him flat on his back under his trials bike in a Welsh bog with the headline ‘Smudd Takes a Thudd in the Mudd!’. So it was that, with some surprise, I took a hit in my one good eye from the well-thumbed tome in question as it tumbled out of one of our numerous avalanche cupboards and I found he had not only read it but had been through it with a red pen making annotations in the margins. I was even more surprised when he took to using the cordless drill and installed some oddly-placed hooks in the bedroom. When questioned, he assured me that what I took to be a winch/industrial cable combination bolted to the foot of the bed was in fact a ‘Y-front tidy’. Who am I to argue when he shows willing with a little bit of DIY?
Imagine then my astonishment when, one night as I was preparing to wriggle myself into my Wynciette ‘Onesy’ I found myself being slammed down flat on my back and subjected to a vigorous burst of human origami before being tied in place with a range of knots he can only have learned in the Combined Cadet Force! I haven’t seen him move so fast since his colostomy bag turned out to be not everything we were promised – so much for my lovely wipe-clean linoleum which very soon had to be replaced with more practical concrete covered with a thick layer of sand which I have to shovel out/shovel in on a bi-daily basis. But I digress …
Anyway, what a boon to a tired marriage the formulaic piece of faux-prose that is FSOG turned out to be! The only downside seems to be that the household’s annual bill for bailer-twine has shot up by 500% over the last twelve months but hey-ho, in every life a little rain must fall I guess. I almost don’t mind that the tendons in my left leg will never be the same again because my love-life has been transformed by a bit of blue-purplish prose and, although I’ll never feel beautiful again, I’ve certainly been the object of a certain someone’s ardent attention recently … as I believe they say on the fields of football – “Get in!”
Such is our joy at the rejuvenation of our conjugal bliss that we’ve taken to sharing romantic breakfasts in bed, meeting up for saucy midweek lunch assignations and of course going on weekly ‘Date Nights’ where we bill, coo and flirt at a restaurant before coming home eager to see if the ‘Y-front tidy’ still works. We’ve both also treated ourselves to lots of new clothes, but only because we have each put on another couple of stone in weight because of all the post-coital cheese sandwiches and chocolate biscuits: I’ve gone up 3 dress-sizes and he’s recently finding a XXXXXL a bit snug. However, until the time comes when we can’t just pop into Anne Summers to pick up complementary outfits in PVC in both our sizes, we think we’ll carry on as we are until either my hip finally pops out or the bedroom floor falls through.
As for the rest of the Smudd family, I have to confess that I cried with pride when Smuddlette got her GCSE results this summer – 6 Fs, 5 Ds and a C! These are the finest exam results anyone in the Smudd household has ever achieved and it proved to us once and for all she wasn’t wrong in her strident and relentless insistence that she could run a 24-hour mobile Nail Bar throughout Yr 11 without her school work suffering. Of course, at first this meant that I had to ferry her everywhere, day and night, but she soon seemed to have made so much money out of fitting hideously-decorated talons to women with money to spare that by the time her exam results were known she’d already funded a quick 5-star break in Las Vegas: somehow she’d managed to tag along at the edge of a mixed bag of privileged Hooray Henrys and Henriettas and while she was in the thick of it she took some lovely photos on her mobile phone of them enjoying a hectic game of strip poker back at the hotel after a night on the sauce! I’m not sure she actually took these photos because I’m sure I saw some very similar images on the front pages of some tabloids – still, all these ginger lads look the same to me..
Anyway, after that she seemed to have no end of spare cash so she told us she was off to France during the summer and – would you believe it? – it seems she was just waving her new camera and telephoto lens about when she found she’d snapped a few high-resolution piccies of a very thin bird sunbathing with a slightly balding blond chap at a chateau which was obviously quite a distance from a public road. Apparently her photography skills are so good, the instant she tried to sell her pictures they were snapped up and featured in publications across the globe. Not bad for a 16 year old with a new camera, eh? Once she was home, I did ask her where she took the photos because I thought the people in the piccies looked a bit familiar but mainly I was so pleased she’d had a good time after working so hard and achieving such good exam results. And she came back from that holiday so loaded with cash that I finally had to admit that her Nail Bar business was the way forward and stopped badgering her to bother with A levels. She’s now out a lot at night, Smudd Junior lives away at college so … (distant sound of ceiling falling through.._)
And so to Smudd Junior – where do I start with him? Having left school after one year of his A levels to pursue a course in all things practical, agricultural, mechanical and oil-soaked, he has, as he’s nearing any chance of a qualification, found so much wrong with this course that his inner militant has risen within him his outrage about the standards of the course have driven him to become Student Rep. We naturally understand that so much of his time has been taken up complaining to the course management he hasn’t managed to attend any of his lessons except ‘AS Level – Naturally Handsome’ for the last term and indeed we have just received a letter from the college telling us as much. However, we have had his report and find that, despite the fact that he’s down as ‘a belligerent upstart’, he’s been awarded a triple A* for ‘Good Looks’ coupled with a Double Merit for being ‘Astonishingly Pleasing To The Eye’. He also got a Distinction in ‘Winning Personality’. We couldn’t be more proud. I can’t see the TV very well these days but I’m sure I’ve seen a police-issue photofit of him several times on ‘About Angular’ this year and I could swear it’s him cavorting in the rolling surf on this Christmas’s ‘Havitoff’ aftershave advert. I am often wrong though.
Otherwise it’s been business as usual in 2012, with me on a retainer as the token toothless & sweary granny for The Jeremy Kyle Show: all I have to do is to sit there in some wrinkled stockings and say “E’s ‘ad me pension away” or “I ‘ad a full set o’ teef before ‘e ‘it me wiv ‘is Xbox an’ took off wi’ me di’mund ring” and the money just comes rolling in. Likewise ‘Britain’s Fattest Families’ are always on the telephone, wanting me to occupy two chairs in a background shot at a hospital for a programme on Obesity Clinics. Things look set to continue this way into 2012 and I have had a quiet word in ear of a J. Kyle producer who seems to share my enthusiasm for a short series on just how dangerous badly-written, globally-successful S&M novelettes can be to the health and wellbeing of hefty fatsos with clicky hips married to oversexed Bunters with high blood pressure: coming to a terrestrial channel near you soon.
Anyhoo, that’s the end of this last-minute Festive Missive to you all. I hope it finds you well.
Just to put this into perspective, I’m sure many of you will have, like me, received ‘Round Robins’ from people you last saw 19 years ago which are stuffed with crowing triumph about how Quentin has had yet another promotion (see new address in Switzerland) and how well Tarquin did at Harrow after all that money had been spent on him; there will be other infuriating people you now barely know who boast of the marathons, half-marathons and IronMan challenges they have completed and it may annoy you as much as it drives me to write this parody of the ‘Rub-it-in-Robins’ we have received this year. Why don’t you send some in (change the names of course) and we could have a right laugh!
Nevertheless, I really do wish you and yours the very best this Christmas – and if any of you were wondering why I haven’t been on this site much this year … re-read paragraph 5! So, until New Year or until the winch gives way, I wish you a Bragging Christmas and a Boasting New Year.
©A Pinkish Glo x