Living it LARGE in London

Bill Stickers was a hive for the rich and famous and the money flowed like water. Customers were everyone from your yuppie business man to rock stars. People booked tables weeks in advance and paps waited like tigers ready to strike outside on the road to get a picture of who was the latest celeb leaving and arriving!

Being staff meant I was privvy to the goings on inside and we were told to keep silent about events that may take place. Within weeks of arriving we had a VIP party for the group Cameo. Google the group, red cod piece, word up! Galen and I had a night off but being noisey buggers, nothing was going to keep us away. Walking past the waiting crowds and paps we enter into the bar to see a sea of famous faces. Being that we worked there no door were closed to us so we head to the VIP section and help ourselves to the finest of champagne and mingle with the famous. Paps were kept out but we had one press guy who was allowed in and he was keen to get to know us?

Duran Duran were at their hay day then and Simon Le Bon was newly married to Yasmin, now she was and still is a stunning creature.! Robyn the American was working behind the bar that night and being bi-curious made a bee line for Yasmin. Simon took great exception to this and ended up ushering Yasmin to another part of the room. Back then you could smoke in public, it looked like a scene from an old black and white movie, all the smoke and beautiful people of the day.

My experience of drugs at that part of my life was limited and I noticed everyone was smoking very smelly cigs and getting all misty eyed and loving! Yep, wackie backie. Derr, I had to be told about that????

Now our pap friend comes over to Robyn and I and mentions, Mrs Le Bon seems a little wobbly on her feet and Simons doing his best to look cool and interesting!!!  Not too sure how it happened but Mr and Mrs Le Bon move to the bar, spliff in hands and start snogging like two teenagers! Robyn and I notice pap man aiming a camera so we jump on top of the bar and just as the camera clicks, flash a boob shot!!!!!!!

I was told that picture made the newspapers but back then I wasn’t interested, all I wanted was a good time and free champagne.

There were many good parties at Bill Stickers, Frankie goes to Hollywood had their album launch there, Guns and Roses drank techilla off naked bodies on the big glass table and my favourite was Princess Margaret drinking gin with gawgus gay boys,,,!

Some celebs were generous with their cash apart from one, fish from Marrillon! Tight fisted scott!!

Spandow Ballet came in with familes and friends and I was asked to wait on them on the big glass table. Charming the lot of them and very generous with the tips but one of the wives decided to drink too much and ended getting spanked on the bear ass over the table!!! NICE.

Martin and Gary missed all the fun stuck in the kitchen but sometimes parties ended up spilling into their domain so not all bad.

One time we had some royal event on and to mark the occasion a lookalike queen was hired to stand on the door and welcome guests. Not being privvy to this information, coming out of the staff room to start shift, walk down the stairs to be met half way by what I thought was queenie???? Not knowing exactly what to do, I start to curtsey and bow while trying to get past her on a small staircase!!! Bastards, all I can hear is roaring laughter from the rest of the staff as I nearly break my neck getting past her! 🙂 

After hours were great, here we were young, free, plenty of cash in hand and all the capital to play in. Having so many dancers, actors etc on the staff gave us access to places no mortal man could get into. One night Galen and I meet a famous director who is staying at the Ritz for a night in the penthouse?  Being cheeky we get an invite to spend the night and the Ritz had more class than a squat in Elephant and Castle 🙂  Crystal in hand we head into the front door of the Ritz, doorman giving us the eye and we procced up to the top floor penthouse. Now at first I thought this bloke was kidding but no, there we are in a plush room. Now heres where the fun begins, we have drunk far more that expected and we all do the yawny sleep dance with your arms. Spying only one bed, Galen and I jump into the middle and cosy up for a sleep? Director man has other ideas?????

Wandering hands syndrome happens and I get Galen to swap places with me and seeing that Director man is more into women that men, Mr Sandmans not far behind!!! 🙂

Morning arrives and both Galen and I wake, look at each other, check out to see if Mr Directors there, nope he’s fled already. Panic sets in, did the bill get paid and if not its down to us? With no money to our names, we check out whats takeable, well, we have to prove we stayed there. Bolt down the back stairs, through a back fire escape and laugh our way back to Bill Stickers with loot in hand.

London had a huge gay scene then and no word of AIDS. Heaven was a gay club that catered for eveyone, banging tunes, several floors of dance music, including fetish, gay, disco and straight! Toilets were mixed and you saw every kind of person the capital had to offer.

Life was good, money was plentyful but one thing letting it down was living in a squat! Don’t get me wrong, free accomodation, heat and water but living in a gaff with several others, no windows just wood and having fallen in love with Galen and not being able to turn him straight, its time to move out?  Why do women think they can turn a gay man straight?

Martin and Gary tell me about a room to rent in Kensington.. going up in the world, that will do me?:-)

I’am sharing with a European lady who likes naked pictures of herself all over the apartment, not a bad figure but had seen better days. My room was cosy and warm but I swear the bed was made up of a thousand matresses piled on top of each other. Give me a ladder to get into bed everynight and i needed oxygen when I finally got there!

2nd marriage proposal  !!!!

Galen is now begging me to marry him and move back to the squat! What’s this I hear you cry???? Nope, his visa has run out and he needs to stay in the country. Back then I attended lots of arranged marriages to keep people in the country but now it was my turn! Giddy at the thought of being Mrs Martinez and the 2k payoff, wedding plans were arranged. Wedding deed at Marylbone followed by wedding breakfast at Hard Rock Cafe!! Having moved back to the squat to look like we actually live together and look authentic, a week before the wedding, a knock at the door, standing there is a beautiful Italian chick asking for Galen???? WTF!

Turns out,  said Italian chick is already Galens wife from Italy and now she needs a divorce to marry for real love.  Awkward!! Galen is in no position to grant a divorce or get back to Italy to make the plans so without a word, he flees in the night, hops on a plane back to the States, never to be heard from again!!!

BASTARD!!!!!! Where’s my two grand?????

🙂

London Town

Stepping off the train at Euston, case in hand, about to start another adventure. Bring it on London, I am ready.

Digs were the YWCA in central London, close to Soho and cheap at £9.00 per night. It was a six women dorm and seemed clean and ok when I checked in but the fun was to happen later when I got off shift. Check in was every morning before 9am to ensure you had a bed?

Bill Stickers on Greek Street Soho was the Ivy of its day and boy was it special inside. No expense spared on deco? As you walk in the front door, to your left is a 40 foot bar, deck out in Zebra print. As you look directly ahead, a Pegasus horse flew out of the wall. Look up and the Manhattan sky line is looking down at you. Walk past all this and up to the next level where a 20 foot glass table graced the center of the room with 30 throne chairs. Rumour was this table belonged to Marilyn Monroe?? Next level was in the gods and it was as opulent as the rest with a deep red theme running through it. Kitchen was in the basement and that’s where I found Martin and Gary prepping for the night. Staff changing was out the back up yet another set of bloody steps to a few rooms to store uniforms, bags etc.

Uniform for everyone was toy soldier red and black, big  crome buttoned jacket, black pants and black apron. This I looked good in, better than the sack dress from last place. The bar and waiting on staff all seemd to be out of work actors, dancers, singers and from every big city in the world. New York, Paris you name it. I seemed to be the only actual person who was a regular waitress with no other career. Door host was a beautiful blonde American called Robyn, hit it off straight away. I was given a section working along side Galen Martinez, stunning gay boy from California. He was too hot for his own good and far too gay.

First shift went well, no major dramas but what i found amazing was the amount of tips you got??? Night one, £120.00 just in tips alone, bloody hell I was minted. No celebs came in that night but will reveal more later.

Shift ends, all sections are clear and ready for tomorrow, kitchen clean, so Martin, Gary and I head out to have a drink before heading off. Its gotta be 2am by the time I get back to the YWCA, in I stroll, key in the dorm door, swing door open, flick on the main light to hear 5  women scream, TURN OFF THE FU**ING LIGHT! SHIT, light goes off quick sharpe and I have to navigate in the dark to find the bed, wardrobe which is locked with a padlock and not piss off my fellow campers!  

Turned out the 5 others that night were ladies of the night working Soho’s finest establishments. Every night after that was a host of new hookers, all with voices like foghorns, swearing like a docker and not to be woken at any cost. Next day I purchased a small torch, made sure my bed was next to the door and crawled in like a mouse at the end of my shift.

In total I stayed at the YWCA for about two weeks before it got too much and I had to get the hell away from these lovely ladies. Some of them were lovely but also working in Soho, if I passed one of them working the door, on my way to work, I got dragged into their gaff, sat on a sticky plastic chair (easier to wipe down),  given a glass of cheap bubbly while we caught up on gossip and then hit on by a gent punter!!!!!! Do I look like a hooker?????? Keep your answers to yourself 🙂 

Having worked a couple of weeks and getting good tips,  I could rent a room but my new gay boy friend Galen came up with a better idea????

Share his flat in Elephant and Castle. What he forgot to mention was it was officially a squat on the Rockingham Estate with half the United Nations living there. In total, two Brazillians guys, one Japanese woman, one American, Galen, one very nasty Scots man and now the lass from Lancashire.
Lovely ………. 🙂 

If its not one thing, its your MOTHER!!!!

Mothers are suppost to be protective, loving no matter what, always there for you, role models, the type of women you want to marry, good, honest but most of all, just your plain old Mum you can count on and call on at all times??????

That’s the theory but me that ain’t true. Don’t get me wrong but my Mums a little unique but then you should have already guest that from my antics so far? Had to get it from someone 🙂  🙂 

I hope one day that my Mum does get to read this blog and not get upset by what I document here about her? Its a chance I am ready to take.

Mum is and always has been slightly deluded 🙂  bless her.

She is animal mad and from a very early age we had a house full of dogs. They consisted of snappy poodles to German shephards and more than once in the past she told us with great pride she “loved her dogs more than us kids”!!! Hard to hear when your young and just wanting to be loved.

In the years that have passed, dogs have come and gone, some with a tragic end and great periods of morning have taken place, tears and great bouts of depression by Mum. There was Sally the black poodle who was run over at a caravan site. Picture the scene, the dogs dead, Mums holding it in her arms and the heads lolling to one side, tongue hanging out and blood dripping out of its mouth. Mum is wailing like a banshee and her four small kids are looking on in disbelieve. Forgive me, I know its tragic but Mum goes into morning and with The Commodores track, once, twice three times a lady on repeat its a little much to deal with.

There have been other dogs who have passed and Mums gone into morning again. Judy the German shephard who was put to sleep the day before my 18th I think? Oh boy was my birthday dinner as hoot!!!! NOT, Mum is crying into her soup in a packed gaff. Happy birthday to me. On a plus note I liked Judy the best of all dogs. Years later my baby bro who resides in Thailand found an old filmed video of us kids and Judy  and in the back ground The Dads ranting and shouting at us kids and dog which was normal. His nick name was Sergeant Major, only had two volumes, loud and even BLOODY  LOUDER!!!!  It was so funny to watch back and we nearly wet ourselfs laughing. Oh the good old days, its so quiet now! Shushhhhhhhhh

Mum seem to find the elixia to eternal youth because she never seemed to get older with birthdays. It was only when she reached 70 that we knewn exactly how old she was? A party was held but don’t think Mum was happy, we had a good time ta.

Years ago Mum finally gets a divorce from The Dad, its been on the cards but the deciding factor was a girly holiday for Mum and her friends in Turkey! In the 80’s there was a film called Shirley Valentine about a board housewife who takes herself off abroad alone, meets a local, falls in love, has a bit of fun in her later life and then her husband comes to get her. Not a bad flick but my Mum being unique makes it a different ending!  She only gets
involved with a Turkish waiter in his teens!!!!!!! Yuck, yuck yuck.  Comes back to the UK, neck covered in hickies and tells The Dad she wants a divorce and beggers off to live in Turkey! There have been several Turks since then, some she married but she never returned back to the UK apart from the odd visit. The latest husband is 8 years younger than her youngest son!!!! I call her a sex pest but others say good on her?  Imagine it being your MUM?????  Got ya thinking about it now haven’t I?????

Latest one she weds on Valentines day!  Romantic I hear you cry? Yep very lovely but what she forgets to tell us, he’s just out of a Turkish nick and its April before we know??? Oh Mother, your a card! I get told off for asking if she thinks she’s Za Za Gabor and to keep quiet if I haven’t a nice word to say, 4 years later I am still quiet 🙂 

Get this, new hubby has the cheek to send me a message on skype telling me he loves me and he’s my new father!!!!!!! ARRRRRRRR get a grip sunshine, been alive a few more years than you and no you aint my new Daddy!!!!!!

You gotta love her really as she certainly makes the most of life and always good for a joke or two?

Its amusing watching older folks trying to get to grips with new tech gadgets. Mum shouted in CAPITALS when she first got a mobile and sent texts. The best was she needed a hearing aid, refused to wear it and then started to shout into the computer on skype talking to her dogs in another country!!!! Oh boy that had me rolling with laughter. Who bloody talks to animals on skype????

So if it ain’t one thing its my Mother! 🙂 

Its grim up North!

Once again I find myself back at the Fokers! Trying to behave, act like a normal girl and try not to cause too much of a riot.
Being back after so much freedom was hard but I had to knuckle down and get a job, as The Dad said!

Being back in the North was hard to come to terms with, no sunshine, sea,  or late night drinking! Boaring!

As The Dads a stickler on getting out and working, I have to get a job and FAST. Also I need to spend as little time as I can in his company.

With little working experience under my belt the only job I can get is as a waitress. There is a well known establishment in a place called Smithills in Bolton and as its on my door step, I apply and get taken on. The place has employed a great deal of the surrounding area including my brother in law before he married my sis and I knew him.

Now this place is stuck in the 18th century with decor, building, uniform and from what I saw management. If the managers could have horse whipped us and got away with it, they would.

Uniform was black zip up the front sack esq dress, white pinny with a pocket deep enough to get into and a lovely very attractive white mop cap! Oh boy am I gonna be stunning in this outfit. As I still have a mohawk, all the hair MUST be inside the cap at all time. Andy Cap eat your heart out!

The menu is family friendly and good value and a cracking black pudding all the way from Bury as the star attraction for a starter.

Shifts were long and hard work on the legs as you have to serve big sections and walk on a hard cold solid stone floor. Sure my feet got piles off that bloody floor?

Mr Bell Brown was the manager and what a tosser and rude task master he was. More will be said about him later?

Plus side,  I get to me two adoreable gay chefs, Martin and Gary. Both in a relationship at the time and a cheeky manner and always up for a giggle and good time. In the 80’s girls who hung out all the time with gay guys and went clubbing in gay clubs only, got the name ” faghag”. I wore this title with pride as these guys knew how to party and Canal Street Manchester became our regular nights out.

Being around gays all the time was great but you never got hit on apart from the ladies of Canal Street. Now I was flattered by the female attention but not for me. Diesel dykes in dungerees, bother boots and crew cuts are not my bag but thanks for the offer. Years later as part of the 1940’s reinactors group, dungerees are the thing as land girl uniforms but I still have an image from back then and just can’t bring myself to wear them 🙂

Things in the fokers house are starting to get a little uncomfortable again and I feel trapped. The Dad is nagging me to work all hours and even offering Mr Bell Brown extra rotas on my behalf. There I am doing a day shift, getting ready to go home to be told by Mr double Barrel, ” oh your dad said you can stay on as we are short staffed”. Great The Dad is now in with Mr DB and I can’t get out of this.

Martin and Gary now receive an offer to go to London and help open up a brand new gaff in Soho. Oh and we need waitresses and bar staff.

That’s all the info I need so without telling the Fokers, train tickets have been bought and digs arranged in London.

Mr DB is now getting on my case every shift I do and knowing that I am outta there very soon, one Sunday day shift among the hussle and bussle of a busy dinning room, I snap!!!!!!!

DB’s been pecking my head for an hour and now following me to ever table I serve to get on my case. Again, this is not another one of my finer moments but hey why change now?  DB follows me into the very hot and crowded kitchen to give me what for and I see RED. 

I turn to him, drop the pinny containing that days money, pull off the mop cap, unzip said sack, drop it to the floor and stand there in my underware and announce ” stick your fuc##ng job up your fuc##ing arse” and walked out to get my things and do one!!!!!!!!

Years later I am told that Mr DB fell off his throne as he was having an affair with one of the waitresses and was sacked!!!! Ha ha ha, that’s karma baby.

Occasionally I go back to eat at said gaff and my antics on that day are still talked about! A legend in a kitchen in my underware!!!! 

On the down side, Mr DB who is now bessie mates with The Dad, has called to tell him what’s happened and when I get back to the Fokers house all my belongings are in black bin bags on the door step,,, classy move parents but again I trump you as I head off with what I can carry and hop on a train to the big smoke!!!!!

London here I come…….. 🙂 

Oh we do like to be beside the seaside!

A few pointers you may need to google if your not old enought to remember:

1 The summer of 1984, Africa had the first of their many droughts that made the news. Children were dying and crops were in very short supply.
2 Christmas 84, Bob Geldof, Mige Ure and a huge host of rock stars record ” Do they know its Christmas” all money going to help the starving in Africa.
3 Paul Hardcastle records a record called N N N Nineteen. Its about the age of most American soliders sent to the Vietnam war.
4 Summer of 85, the first Live Aid in London.
5 Bruce Springstein is BIG!!!!

After the little hairgate incident, I was homeless, again, and moved into a very stylish NOT bedsit! Marc Almond pend a very nice little number about bedsit land. Again you may need to google that?

My hair was slowly growing back and being in the North was not the rosey life I imagined. Work was dull and so was my social life. My social crowd from Manchester were talking about heading down South for the summer season and then with the profits bugger off to Thailand for the winter. Now that sounded perfect so with pen and paper in hand, letters were written to hotels in the town of Newquay. Why Newquay I hear you say? Well, its a bloody long way from Manchester and all my mates were heading there.

I finally got an offer off a hotel to work as a chamber maid! Accomodation was provided, all meals and pay at the end of the week. Seemed ok to me so with what little money I had to my name, caught a bus and waves the North goodbye!!!!

Now here I was heading into the great unknown with a very romantic notion of what the summer may hold!

Back then the roads were a great deal smaller, not as many motorways and cramped stuffy buses. I think I aged about 10 years on that bus ride it took that long. Ok, small lie but I was on the bloody thing for hours!

When the bus finally rolled into Newquay it was lovely. Hotels, shops, sea fronts and whats that big yellow thing in the blue sky???? SUN,SUN, SUN.

Now I believe the hotel had lied a little about the state of the building but what do I care?  Room, food and money all in the sunshine.

Greeted by what can only be described as the Adams Family who ran the hotel. A family business was no lie. They were all there from Great Grans to babies! I was to share a room in the Grannies house around the corner with another girl. When I was taken to the house a list of do’s and don’ts were issued!  Oh please, do you think I was going to abide by thoses???????

I was introduced to Yvette, a brummy with a thick accent and huge boobies. She was to be my new room mate and we hit it off instantly. In total there were 6 girls in the upper part of the house. All working for the Adams Family.

In all the months I was in those digs, never a cross word was said by any of the girls but we did get very good at being crafty smuggling blokes in and out at all hours of the day and night. There was one incident we nearly got caught but we ended up throwing a guy in the shower with one of the girls to hide him. Imagine St Trinians for older girls!!!!!!!!! 🙂 🙂

Work was back breaking and I hated makin beds but it was all worth it for the fun after hours. Newquay in those days was smaller than now and true surfers in VW camper vans headed there each year. Boy, those guys were hot but then the surfer girls in tow were too so us hotel harlets were off limits!

Didn’t stop the fun though, we made friends with the guys working the bars and clubs and being season workers, drinks and club entry was free.

I did try my hand at surfing but picture the scene! Goth pale chick, slightly shorter mohawk trying to surf? Comical, also for anyone who’s surfed before, the rope attached to the board to you ankle or wrist will always come back and hit you on some part of your body when you fall off! It always came back and hit me in the face so I gave that idea up as a bad one!

The Sailors Arms on the main high street was our hangout and then off to Tall Trees club for late night drinking and fun. Skinny dipping was a favourite with holiday makers after the club and  season workers would often steal their clothes for a giggle. How many naked and slightly scared holiday makers we saw was unreal.

Now being a goth chick with a mohawk, I stood out from most people. There was an American airbase close by called St Mawgans and the airboys often came to town for R&R. Most Yanks had never seen a goth before  and I played that to my advantage by charging them money to have their picture taken with me! Cheeky I know but a girl has to earn a living! 🙂  I hate to think how many pictures ended up being sent to their Mom’s in the States?

In the June I was 19 years old and guess what was written on all my cards????????? N N N Nineteen, bloody original eh!!

It was also the live aid concert and big screens were everywhere.  Newquay came to a stand still that day with bodies everywhere glued to watching Bob Geldof and crew raise money for starving kids.

Born in the USA, Bruce Springstein played everywhere. How I hate that track. Stick pins in my ears!

A whole summer in Newquay may sound great but trust me working long hours, little sleep and huge amounts of alcohol takes its toll! Yuck!

By the end of July we were all ready to pack it in but guess what? ??????? No one had any money to beggar off to Thailand. Yvette got ill and ended up in a hospital in Redruth and I had to go cap in hand begging my family to let me return! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO back up North I headed with tail between my legs.

Dad gloated and I had to try and reform! I ended up as a waitress in a resturant where it was run by the SS but as luck would have it, I met a couple of gay chefs who would lead me into more adventures away from the North. 🙂

Years later I lived in Cornwall and went to Newquay often but that’s for the future blogs.

Good job I never got the money together for Thailand because I forgot one small factor???’ Passport! I didn’t have one 🙂

Do blondes really have more fun?????

Its 1984, I left school two years earlier and after a year in a nursing college, I have dropped out.

Now as you may have noticed, dad and I really dont see eye to eye!!!! He hates how I dress, how I behave and that I am going against him. The battle started at the age of 13 and is still ongoing.

So in the 80’s theres this scheme called YTS. Cheap labour for employers with young people.  Youth Training Scheme or some shit like that!!!!
Well guess who gets to be one of the first victims?????? Yep, me!!!  £25.00 per week for a full 40 hours. Minimum wage my ass!!!!

I am assigned to work at The Bolton Evening News in classified! Back then, no computers, lap tops, just old fashion type writters that made a hell of a racket. The paper was printed on huge reels in the basement and boy it stank!

My job was to help who ever and basically I made brews and filed! Yawn Yawn Yawn.

Now the ladies in classified thought they were on Wall Street or something, big hair, shoulder pads a American football player would have been pleased to wear. They all squeeled when another got engaged and showed off big diamonds and the stench of perfume was aweful.

I lasted a few months before being sent to the accounts department as they realised I could count!!! Derrrrr of course I can count, read and write!

The accounts office was a small glass office that housed a very grumpy, bald, fat, did I mention GRUMPY, Mr Butler. He was the accounts department and I was assigned to him. Oh boy, this was not going to end well????

So there I am, black mohawk, pale goth chick counting money for this miserable old git! We never spoke a word to each other and he just glarred at me across a desk of money. My light relief was dinner time, he put the money in his brief case, put the chain from said case to his wrist and went to the bank. Now I did on more than one occasion wish he got hit over that bald head, which he wore a bowler and robbers would make off with the money. Well for all my wishing, that dream never came true. Pity.

At this time in my life I had a tarantula spider called Barabus. Big fat Mexican red leg spider and quick to boot. My thinking was, we are working in a glass office which is warm, Barabus likes the warm, bring a pet to work day????? Ok not my best move but bloody hell, so worth seeing him squirm 9 to 5  🙂 🙂 🙂 🙂 🙂 🙂 🙂 

As you guess, two words day after “job club” ……..

I was hanging around now with a cross dressing boy called Mark, whom later asked me to marry him! (Marriage proposal number 1) and my squeeze at the time was a lanky boy with white hair called Carl. He had seen me with heart throb in the clubs and now single fancied his chances. I do remember that he was a cocky shit but very lacking in the down stairs area but he amused me so I kept him around.  Many years later I bumped into him and although I had grown and changed, he was still dressing the same way but had little hair left. Oh boy, move on, the 80’s were so over.

At this time I was sporting a very lovely long black mohawk with short shaved sides. I was rocking it, oh so I thought. Ok so in a moment of weakness I decided to see if blondes really do have more fun?????  In my mind I would be Marilyn Monroe.   RIGHT!!!!!

I had a mate who was training in hair dressing so off we go to her pad to get the barnett done.

Now I was living at home with family at this point as as previously stated, dad and I not bessie mate!!!!!

Ok , picture the moment its finished???? White as snow on the short bits, followed by baby pink, then salmon pink, then deeper pink into reds and fire colours. Yep, you got it, all the previous black dye made it an interesting look. Too late to turn back now, all done, time to face THE DAD!!!!

All the family are in the kitchen, I walk through the door, mum gasps, dad turns nearly a shade of my hair and screams, ” what the bloody hell have you done”. ‘” Your not sitting at the dinner table looking like that”.

Off I go upstairs, find a very lovely plastic swimming cap, complete with flowers and under chin strap put it on and head for the dinner table. Ok, again not one of my other smartest moments but the whole family erupt in floods of laughter apart from DAD!!!! 

That day, dad lost face and control and didn’t like it. He was a bully and control freak and his 18 year old had just trumped him. In a fit of rage he packed a bag, picked up his travel type writter and left for three days. Booked himself into a very posh hotel and then waited for revenge. Mum was never very supportive on her kids and after being worn down, i compromised by having all my hair cut off and dyed blonde. Made him pay of course.

As you can imagine, it was short and no, Marilyn I aint. As for having more fun, nope, I looked like an albino in a snow storm!

Blonde wasn’t my bag so back to black I went and apart from a few years of being a red head, that’s how I have stayed.

I think if there is a lesson to learn here, its, always try on a wig first????

🙂

Contraception, orgasums = HRT and Hot flushes!

So when I was a teenager, no one told me about how it all works? Birds and bees, more like fumbles and stumbles into the unknown!!!!  Sex education in schools was what your mate told you about or the boys behind the bike sheds with a stolen copy of their dads dirty mag. As a late starter I was told about “jonnies and the pill”!

Once I had established a so called relationship with heart throb, off to the Dr’s for my first pills I went. All this was done in secret as you never wanted parents to know you were at it! Late night fumbles and romps in the back of cars! So classy, there were even roads called lovers lane, now a days there called doggin site! Oh how we have moved on??????

In the early 80’s the North West was in its hey day for fashion, music and great nights out. I partied every night of the week with no thought to what the future held. I was on the arm of heart throb in clubs and at gigs.

We had youth on our sides and nothing to stop us having a good time.

Heart throb soon grew tired of me and then moved onto younger girls. His ego needed stroking and there were plenty of girls out there to do that.

When I look back over the years, there are a few things you never realise at the time:

1  Your never really as fat as you thought?
2  Boy, you did look a sight in what was then fashion.
3  People over 30 are not that old!
4  Not taking a coat with you on a cold night out, is essential.

Being young and reckless was great. Living a carefree life and not giving a dam about the future. As the years rolled by and I went from relationship to relationship, one box of contraceptive to the next, to one falsh baby scare. 

When I actually tried to get pregnant, I couldn’t! Bugger all those wasted pills.

Now when your young, your not told about the joy of being a women? All the hormonal roller coaster rides you will go through? Whats the deal with being a teenager, best years of some peoples life!!!  Bollocks!!! Spots, growing sperts, body hair, periods, having to deal with growing up, broken hearts,  rows with your elders, having to get a job and most annoying of all not being pretty. Oh boy is it hard. When I look back on that time, it was hell on earth.

The 80’s had new romantics and goths, so we died our hair black, wore black makeup and hated the world and our parents. RESULT. 🙂

So as a woman you go through life, deal with what is thrown at you, maybe marry, have kids, watch them grow up. Nick all your youth, looks and money and then BAM we hit menopause! Now some may get this earlier than others, trust me, my body doesn’t work correctly and then early menopause. Lucky lucky me.

Your mums and grannies call them tropical moments or hot flushes! Excuse me, tropical moments, more like a bloody volcano going off in your body. Night, day, after a shower/bath just about anytime day or night. Oh and forget putting on makeup. You end up looking like a melted wax works.
How much  can you actually sweat????

Then there’s the mood swings, forgetfulness, tears and tantrums ;-(   
Its like being a teenager all over without the firm buttocks and just a few more wrinkles. You notice things move south and your not as perky or firm as you once were. There are other symptons, like losing your sex drive! Well baby, mine took right off, left the country and didn’t even leave a forwarding address? 

As a teenager, I took contraceptives to stop me getting pregnany. Now I take HRT to put back the hormones that are missing and stop me going insane??

Oh the cycle of life.

On a plus note, we are now blessed with names as ladies of a certain age:
MILF, Cougar and to some GILF’s !!!! 

On a last note, ladies of all ages, always wear sunscreen. Your face gives away your age quicker than anything.

All I can add now is, roll on my quater of a century birthday in a few years. I intend to be fab and 50 and free from all the hassles Mother Nature has thrown at me.

P.S if anyone out there see’s my mojo??? Spank its bottom with a womens weekly and send it back to me 🙂  Ta xxxxx

Sweet 17

How things have changed since i was a teenager? We never had mobile, computers, internet or any access to porn apart from what we might have found by mistake!

My first kiss was at the age of 12 and it was in a forest while on holiday.  Took me to the age of 17 before I actually got a BF and he was a back water boy called Ken. We had been dating a while and the deed was done after huge amounts of pernod and blackcurrent. Can’t say I actually remember the event but being classy as I was, I actually vomited on him during, nice! The only thing I do remember was the night after, the first showing of Michael Jackson’s Thriller video was aired on TV.  Things you remember eh?

My next encounter was a punk rocker who wore a dress and studded dog collar. Dad turned a shade of pink when he walked through the door. I was and still in my own way a rebel. Again not very memorable but at least it made my Dad mad. Oh how I liked to shock Dad.

For me being a teenager was a bloody horrid time and would never want to return back to those years. I went from being a fat, glasses, bad perm young teen to an all out full on punk/goth with a tendancy to wear very little, dye my hair all colours of the rainbow and wear it in a mohawk . Dad said I looked like a witch and he could post a letter through my lips they were that red! To this day, I still wear the same red lips stick. Bite me dad!!!!!

Being the era of punks and new romantics was great as everyone including men wore makeup. We had some of the best clubs in Manchester and everyone seemed to want to go out to shock. Men wore tight white leggings with black stiletto’s, women exposed their breasts in clubs and I saw my first nipple piercing in Cloud Nine. You couldn’t tell the difference between sexes so it was kind of a free for all. 🙂   I had my first female encounter then and although nice not really for me. Oh I do recall a night I was kicked out of a club for not only having a nose ring in but also for snogging said girl in the club.

I met a guy called Stuart who was lead singer in a band, wore tight leather pants and was the local heart throb. To say he was swit swoo was an understatement. I got to date him for a while, be a groupie and hang out in sound studio’s in Liverpool with the likes of joy division and echo and the bunny men. Sex with him was dull as he loved himself more and wasn’t very forth coming with foreplay. Actually, dont think he could even spell foreplay. Lovely to look at but very dim!!!!! Years later and I mean years later, I got to meet his daughter at a school I was temping at on the reception. He had an unusual surname and this kid walks in and gives me her name. Conversation goes a little like this:
Me- I once knew a guy called ******* he was a singer in a band.
Kid- Yep he is my Dad.
Me- Are you sure hes not your older brother?
Kid- No, hes my Dad.
Me- Boy do I feel old now.
Kid- huffs, pulls a face and walks off.

Later that day said kids Mother walks in to check me out. Boy did Stuart lower his standards. How the mighty fall.