Mrs Headlander Speaks At Last…
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Well hello at last! Mrs Headlander here… My miserable old other half is away this week visiting some friends in the horrible hinterlands of the South of England but he’s left his laptop behind so I’m standing in for him. First of all, let me tell you something about myself: I’m the hard working one – tall, blonde and willowy, the perfect woman… in fact I’m the Flo’ to his Andy Capp. I like nothing better than 8 pints of cool lager or vodka (why not have vodka by the pint?) and to follow the drink, a curry - preferably Thai.
Mr H has asked me not to slag him off in his absence but to write a “thoughtful and balanced article on life in Hartlepool”. No flaming chance… He doesn’t! I’ve decided to stoop to his level and tell you some facts you need to know about “The Headlander” (hereafter known as Guffy)…He’s a lazy old sod with a beer belly and flatulence who drinks a lot (when I let him), eats a lot of spicy food (hence the nickname), is opinionated and can’t stand fools gladly (I don’t disagree with that one)! He has also been known to wake up thinking that someone else is in bed with us when it’s in fact it’s his stomach! Oh – and his manboobs mean that his bra size is bigger than mine.
He calls me by many different names… She-who-must-be-obeyed and Cleopatra being his favourites, but let me pass on to you some of my printable pet names for him: Guffy, Whiffy, Fat bloke, Chunky, My Kebaby, Rasgula (look it up if you want to know!) and Squitty. There are others but they just aren’t suitable for a polite audience like you.
In this blog he usually makes me sound like some old harridan but let me assure you that nothing could be further from the truth… I do moan at him once in a while but only so as to get him to do things that he’s already promised to do – such as put up shelves or clean the oven. I’m generally pretty nice to him but as with all men, control must be exercised and revenge exacted when he’s been unreasonable.
Being short-sighted, he’s blind without his spectacles and takes them off every night before bed. When he’s really wound me up I take great delight in moving them when he goes to sleep and then denying all knowledge of where they are when he can’t find them in the morning. Eventually, having exhausted all the places to look in the bedroom he trundles off to the bathroom to search and I place them on the dresser in clear view, so that when he comes back to the bedroom in an agitated state and starts to search again he’ll find them and say “I’m sure I looked there”. A small victory but it’s worth it just to ruin his morning. That’ll teach him to talk back to me! Oh yes… and I have been known to hide his mobile phone charger as well, another one guaranteed to get him frothing at the mouth. All good fun I think.
We really do live in Hartlepool and always drink in our favourite pub – but, of course, it’s not called the Pint and Fight. He tells me that it, and himself are to remain anonymous in case he says something here to upset someone and they want to fill him in. My parents & my sister and her family also live in the town – I’ve no doubt he’ll feature them in the future when he can’t think of any new ways to slag me off.
Whilst he’s away I’ve been catching up on all the things on telly that he won’t let me watch… Coronation Street and X Factor being the two main ones – and playing Bon Jovi on his stereo – and there’s nothing he can do about it hahahahahahahaha!
One thing I am guilty of is spending way too much time shopping - A simple trip for a pair of shoes can last 4 hours. A few months ago I went to the town centre looking for a new outfit to wear to a friend’s wedding and after a couple of hours found what I thought was the perfect ensemble for me to wear. I sat down on a bench in Middleton Grange with a Greggs pasty and made a quick call to Guffy to come and meet me so that we could go for a drink. As I sat and waited for him to arrive, everyone’s favourite transvestite Lawrence flounced by in the exact same outfit as the one I’d just bought for the wedding! I was mortified and went back to the shop straightaway to change it. The shop assistants, once they had got up off the floor and wiped away the tears of laughter were very sympathetic and gave me a refund. When Guffy eventually arrived on the scene he laughed as well and (as usual) suggested I buy something from Ann Summers instead. When I pointed out that the outfit was for a wedding he said that we could stay at home and re-enact our wedding night instead! See what I have to put up with? I’m not re-enacting a night of watching him make a fool of himself dancing to YMCA followed by an hour of being sick in the toilet of our hotel bedroom for anyone. For that smart assed comment I dragged him around the shops with me for another 2 hours until I found a substitute outfit. Then we went to the pub and I made him buy the drinks because “I’ve spent all my money on my dress love… you’ll have to buy”.
I’ve no doubt he’ll refute all this next week and probably never let me write again when he’s away but it’s been nice talking to you all.
Bye for now,
Mrs Headlander
p.s… Here’s one of my favourite jokes…
How many men does it take to tile a bathroom?
Two. If you slice them very thinly.