Hi there !
What a summer. Iím sure all this ozone layer
thing is having an effect because after
spraying my hair a few months ago with SuperStik,
my favourite lacquer, I felt quite
Trace says I should stop using it. She gets
some really class stuff from a guy on the
market . Three quid for ten cans. Cause she
donít pay for it, if you know what I mean.
He bungs it to her free of charge after heís
bunged it to her in the ladies toilets behind
the Taj Mahal.
Lionel says the walls are so thin in there,
from the gents side, you can hear everything
whatís going on in the ladies next door.
He said Trace is very noisy when she gets
excited. I canít say Iíve noticed the odd
few times me and Trace have shared a
fellow. Cause Iím pretty noisy myself so I
probably wouldnít have noticed.
Lionel says making too much noise is just bad
manners but then he can be a stuck up
little queen at times. The last time Winston
came over from Brighton, there was so
much noise, I didnít even have to turn the
telly down to hear them at it.
Of course living in a trailer there isnít much
privacy. Perhaps thatís why I donít have
many inhibitions. I mean thereís my mum and
her phone calls. By the way she now
has a mobile so sometimes she works
from a bench behind Woolworthís. Then
thereís Lionel and his Dusty Springfield records.
All in all living in a trailer is a bit
like living in a cardboard box. with mod cons.
We do actually have three bedrooms so thatís
one each but the walls are made of
hardboard. Itís covered in a lovely plastic
fabric mind you with red and white flowers
all over it. Someone said itís a bit Laura
Ashley but I like to think itís quite posh.
Someone has made a hole in the wall between
me and Lionel recently so now I can
have a peep now and again when heís got company.
Iíve learned an awful lot, I can
I now know what he does with some of those
bits of funny shaped rubber things in his
cupboard and Iím not sure I would want anyone
doing that to me. When I told Jason
he said he didnít need to use artificial implements
as his own natural equipment was
far superior. I guess he was talking about
the equipment at the front about which I
have already confirmed dimensions thanks to
a chart in my Bootís diary which
converts centimetres into inches.
As to the equipment at the rear, Jason claims
he has never been taken that way.
Frankly he is a bit on the skinny side and
while he is certainly well endowed in the
genital area, his bum does lack a roundness
and fleshiness. It doesnít do anything for
me, being a fan of big boys, and I know Lionel
seems to share my taste, so he could
be telling the truth. Itís a good job mumís
ex, Mr. Nagal isnít around though.
Oh, I must tell you about Tracyís Gran. Turnís
out she is my Gran as well ! Bloody
hell, I though when I found out. Seems
Gran had Traceyís mum, then left her to live
with a nun and they gave birth to my mum.
Donít ask me how but itís something to
do with turkeys. Anyway Mum told me one night
when she was a bit high after using
my hairspray, and drinking some weird German
schnapps she had pinched from that
Lidl place which has just opened next door
to the Social.
Gran and the nun, who acted as the man in the
relationship it seems, bought mum up
until she was ten and then the nun decided
she missed all the fun in the nunnery and
went back leaving gran alone in the world
with mum. She gave her up for adoption,
went back to Traceyís dad and swore that she
would never trust another woman as
long as she lived.
Of course it didnít work out like that. Traceyís
dad popped his clogs due to the cheap
fags, cheap booze and the deep psychological
scar finding out his wife preferred nuns
had caused. Gran had Tracyís mum, freedom
to do as she wished with whom she
wished and do it she did until she ended up
in Holloway and found Mad Marge and
formed an on off relationship which has lasted
Tracyís mum, like mine, got pregnant by the
first guy she ever went with and at
sixteen had a nice trailer with the rent paid
by the social, a little baby to play with and
the only price, putting up with Gran in one
of her rare interludes out of the nick. Gran
never bothered my mum. Mum says she forgot
about her but she did visit her Ďfatherí
once in the nunnery. She never went back though
and refused to talk about what
Trace said it was something to do with a rather
rude statue the nuns have in a cellar.
Seems they use it for some kind of initiation
ceremony with the novices and they
thought Mum wanted to join their club.
So there, Iíve a new Gran, Iíve found out my
father came out of a bottle and liked turkey, and the Germans having failed
to beat us in the last war are now opening cheap shops selling us bargain
priced baked beans.
Life is looking up.