Trial

This week, it's the trial !
The Middle England  collective are all putting down their supper dishes and are pouring glasses of a nice red in readiness  for the vapid Helen Titchner to give her evidence in her trial for stabbing the moustache twirling Rob .
The Rob/ Helen storyline of the radio 4 show The Archers is now drawing to a close......I've just listened to the " rape revelation" while waiting to do an extra shift at work!
The coffee room was silent listening to the drama of it all!

What The Hell?

 I just grabbed a clean T shift from the knicker drawer last night

I didn't notice which one, I was tired , I'd been decorating all day.

This morning I had a rather odd conversation with Basil the farmer

who was too poite to ask about it,

But his eyes kept dropping down to my front! 

In a " what the hell?" Kind of way

Traffic Lights and A Fat Vagina

For years the village school children have run the risk of being splattered by speeding drivers on the village's one and only zebra crossing.
Readers of Going Gently may also remember that I have had several " near miss events" crossing the road with the dogs, one which necessitated  flinging a bag of dog shit into the back of a careless van driver .
Such is life.
Now, for weeks in Trelawnyd, we have suffered a gaggle of over weight workmen who have seemed to be up to very little on the main road, outside the school.
Traffic has been disrupted by a temporary three way traffic light system, and Winnie has been transported into a state of permanent " moistness" by the fact that at least four blue collar workmen have been wolfwhistling her on a daily basis!
They just thought that  the old gal was being friendly , but only I knew just how much of a let down she was, as she merrily waved her fat vagina at them from the pavement.
Anyhow, the upshot of all this activity, is that now Trelawnyd has it's very own Pelican crossing! 
We now have a pedestrian controlled push button traffic light system complete with sound alarm ( for the visually impaired! ) and my claim to fame was that the dogs and I were the very first residents of Trelawnyd to have the privilege to use it!
How exciting!
Affable despot Jason was second in line for a button press and I am sure I spied Mrs Trellis giving the control box the once over before we left for home, but the real fun testing time for the bastard speeders  will be this morning when the school children return for the Autumn term and scores of fat little fingers will reclaim the road once again!

Ta Muchly

Thank you all for all of your comments, I have had so many that my blogger page has not downloaded them all, but rest assured that I have read all of the comments in my settings folder and have enjoyed them all
The post had it's desired effect......my 243rd comment
Was as follows

You Fucking Smug Bastard Petra on Audit Time Remove content | Delete | Spam

Anonymous

at 22:44

Thats an end to it all

Audit Time

Putrid Petra and her acid tongue brought up one interesting point as she poured vitriol upon the readers of Going Gently and that was her very own assessment on it's demographic
As she saw it, my " fan base" runs in a very linear way,and I quote

Anonymous4:31 pm

I am not envious in any way Jon, I just find Going Gently rather too sugary and at times a touch false for my tastes.
It panders to an audience of middle aged, sad women, as far as I can tell, oh with the occassional gay man thrown in to balance the books as well as the usual handful of drunks that blogging seems to attract nowadays. ( ring any bells Jon? )
I am anonymous because I am allowed to be.
But if you want to know my name, I am happy to share it.

This post both insulted and amused me , as quite cleverly it insulted most of my readers without pausing to catch breath. I noted that particular bile was centred on long term reader Anne Marie who she referred to as a " cat owning fag hag"
Anne Marie had her very own way of dealing with the issue

TexasTrailerParkTrash4:33 pm

What a thoughtful, kind person you are, John.

ReplyDelete

Replies

1. 
   Anonymous4:58 pm

   Pandering again to a needy ego!
   I feel nauseous
   
   Petra

   Delete
2. 
   anne marie in philly10:14 pm

   then go puke somewhere else, bitch!

   Delete
3. 
   Cottontail Farm2:28 am

   Oh, Anne, I laughed out loud. Love it.

   Delete

anne marie in philly12:22 pm

we philadelphians tell it like it is. and NO ONE talks trash about one of my friends!

Delete

This made me cackle with amusement

All this bad humour has been somewhat interesting . I have  more female readers cos blogging is populated more by female writers and readers. Plain and simple. 

They are not sad, pussy owning fag hags with a need for a gay best friend nor are they drunks or balance making queens, even though a few must exist here....like they do anywhere

So what I am asking 

Tell me your demographic ? 

Age? Sex? Gender? Alcohol status? Knicker size? 

Let's see if the old cow was right! Tee hee! 

7d For Milk

Well Putrid Petra certainly put the cat amongst the pidgeons yesterday with her spunky bad manners. I took the anonymous block from the settings last night and returned to Going Gently this morning to see what damage she had inflicted only to note that she had not returned.
It's the fickle face of internet I guess.
Not a great deal happened yesterday. I finished washing down the living room walls with diluted sugar soap, and went to find Harmonica to tell her that the village Friendship group is interested in her keep fit programme.
On the way home with Mary, I noticed Auntie Gladys standing in the window of her house which was once the grandest in the village and on impulse I stopped and knocked on the door.
She wasn't having the best of mornings, I could tell .
She seemed rather vague but admitted that she needed milk , so I went home to fetch her some.
As I decanted some milk into a jug, I scoured the fridge ( still without it's door! ) for some tempting nibbles I could make up for Gladys' lunch ( we are still not quite sure just how well she is eating)
The Prof and I are on a bit of a health kick at the moment , so apart from vegetables , salad stuff and the obligatory pot of cottage cheese there wasn't much I could find but after a bit of rooting I did come across a packet of Geroge's special treat chicken meat balls
" needs must" I told George as I spooned a good half dozen on a plate with some cherry tomatos
And I wrapped everything in foil saving four for George's breakfast.
He watched the proceedings with bright black button eyes.
I then took Gladys her milk, and placed the meatballs into her fridge. Informing her that I had made too many for dinner last night .
" I don't think I've ever had a chicken meatball" she said " I shall enjoy giving them a try"
Her kitchen was, as usual spotless, and the kettle of the aga was heating up as it always does, but the old gal was looking tired and somewhat frail as I was leaving.
" I must pay you for the milk" Gladys reminded herself and rummaged around on the hall table for a moment.
She pressed 7 pence into my hand
" That should cover it" she said gently.
" That will do nicely" I told her.

Everyone's A Critic

This is the latest critique of a blog post I have recieved overnight

Looking at my comments box, I was mildly surprised to have received over fifty seperate comments over four or five years of blogging entries. The comments are from "anonymous" ( I thought I couldn't receive anonymous comments) and most have a similar gist of complaint

Anonymous10:04 am

She said Fuck all Dickhead.

You really love yourself don't you?
that is pefectly evident with all this bigging up of your life and just how wonderful you think you are.

Saviour of animal kind.
Saviour of strange non existent small town characters
Saviour of fucking dogs treated like children
Saviour
Saviour

Boring and self congratulating pap


Oh dear. My blog entry today was going to centre around Mary's latest obsession
She now delights in accompanying me to the toilet, where she is quietly obsessed with watching all solids being flushed away.
On reflection , I think I'll just  leave you with the photo illustration
It kind of sums up how one person feels
Hey ho

Innuendo

Candice- a star in the making

Episode 2 of The Great British Bake Off had some cracking double entendres
Mel flirted with the camp Rav about how stiff his icing was with the purr " Can I warm your bag with my hands?"
Mary agreed to do a bit of carpet munching
And best of all, when Candice brought forward her model gingerbread pub , she asked Mel to  help with the call " Can you come and grab my jugs?" ( jugs of ale of course)
Thoroughly British
Thoroughly filthy
and Thoroughly funny!