Geriatric Facesmash Gala

What I did on my weekend by Janet Dobinson aged 25 1/6th part 1

There’s an old peoples home directly across the road in front of my apartment and four or five times in a fortnight a couple of ambulances, usually a big white van and a minivan will pull up with their lights flickering around the street but without their sirens going. Each time, as I look up from my book whatever I’m reading is driven out my mind by the momentary panic that I’ve gone stone deaf. My beer hangs forgotten halfway to my mouth. I’ve had a stroke and now I can’t hear the ambulances! What the hell am I going to do now? Will I talk like a deaf person now? Will I need a hearing ear dog? Someone could be next to me in bed screaming in my ear from 6 inches away (again) and I wouldn’t really hear her (again).
Can I hear the spirit world now instead? Or perhaps my other sense will become incredibly intense and I’ll be able to steal peoples thoughts. That’s a sense now by the way. They’ve finally detected it in the lab. No shit. If you don’t believe my check this out: www.paulmckenna.info
Of course, I’m not really deaf. My eyes love the idea of having a laser beam vaporise slim veneers of their corneas and so are racing to be the laziest and blurriest (Go Righty GO!) but my hearing is fine. But for some reason the ambulances pull up slowly and quietly, probably so as not to wake anyone up. How nice is that?
My point is I’m pretty impressed with the old folks’ vitality. My guess is considering the number of ambulances there’s either a half pipe or an inflatable sumo suit tournament scheduled erratically eve few days. I expect those old geezers and dames were so feisty they insisted on organising their own shit right down to the time table but maybe they sometimes lose their place and switch nights accidentally. I don’t know, but if that’s what’s happening I doubt its much of a problem really anyway. Keeping things spontaneous is fun.
Although, and I try not to let this bother me but it nags away at my mind, a more sinster thought occurs. What if they are running a fight club? What if the ambulances had to turn out tonight because Mary Lou left Cornelius with concussion and a broken bone in his knee? What if she had to destroy something beautiful and Cornelius 85 from Nuneaton was now spitting teeth because of it?
I would be pretty alarmed if this turned out to be the case.

On a happier note my car got broken into. Or more accurately I’m a fucking idiot. I left the passenger window ajar and someone removed my jacket like I deserved. It was this fucking stupid bomber jacket from TKMaxx that had this big sticky out collar like the one Nash Bridges probably wears when its raining in that shit show and I really liked it. There was a note on the windshield in washable marker pen with the following message:

”Sorry mate, it was a nice coat, next time shut your window properly, chequebook and parking ticket are on the dashboard.”

Nothing had been taken but the old coat. The message just washed right off after I took a picture of it. (It didn’t really show sadly but who the fuck carries washable graf markers anyway? Mutha Teresa?) There’s was not even a few small poos or a puddle of wee on the seat or anything. And the strange thing was above ‘i’s in each word instead of a dot was a little star. Like girls do when they’re 13 writing a birthday card to their grandmas. She was probably on her way to see her Nan finally put Harold St.John Peasbody down on the matt, because this time he was staying down. If I ever see that girl huffing paint or drinking petrol or whatever it is 13 year olds do I’m going to sell her some weed to say thanks for not going on a spending spree in JJB Sports with my chequebook. I think its marvellous how nice people are in my town. Even the thieves are courteous and thoughtful. Granted there’s a few cunts; I live here after all and I’m a massive cunt as you know. Forexample my spell-check insists I should’ve written ‘there are’ instead of the contraction of ‘there is’ just then when I was talking about… whatever it was I was talking about a sec ago, but I doesn’t care coz I’m such bada$$.
So basically I’m saying most people here are pretty nice. On the whole. (That was a fragment there by the way, but do I look bothered?)
It’s a shame the same can’t be said for the older generation. They should stop resorting to violence to settle their emotional issues. No more fighting. Play laser quest or go quad biking or something old dudes. Get that aggression out in non-confrontational ways. They should follow the example of the hooded kids that wonder around the night time streets playfully shouting astonishingly vivid sexual abuse at each other and at me when I throw coins at them. They should grow up, really.
That way I’ll stop shitting myself that I’m deaf as a post all the time.
Wassat? Do I what? Nah I cant hear you mate, speak up? What do you mean ‘get plucked?’