I’ll never get to sing wth Michael Ball

So we were about to go on stage but my mother was insisting we went through this bloody contract with a fine tooth comb. Michael was getting impatient, the band were starting up. Then there was bloody great crash, Jamie and I both suddenly woke up. Dillion had managed to knock the step ladder over with his fat ass, it came crashing down into the bedroom. I picked it back up and sent the back to bed. My only comment to Jamie was, ‘I”m never going to sing with Michael Ball now’, then I went back to sleep.

Going back earlier, I spoke to my mother in the bath. Let me clarify this, I was in the bath, not her, actually she may well have been, actually not as her bath is still in her front garden. She was not going through a contract. She did however start off with a really typical patronising comment based on my recent failed relocation attempt. She has a bit of a history of these, they are all delivered in the same way. When I used to play rugby, which I was actually quite good at, I wanted to pursue it on the school team but the only comment I got in front of a bunch of people was, ‘Oh he’s so small they’ll use him as the ball….hahahha’. And the same for basketball, ‘Oh they’d use you as a step….hahaha’. I pursued neither as it was too much stress and would probably have screwed with her schedule. She made the comment and did the usual ‘hahaha’, it’s a shame I wasn’t there as I’d have quite happily punched her square in the face before the second ‘ha’.

Today I had an answerphone message which I promptly ignored, ‘Oh Tim I think my battery is gone on my laptop, it came up and said it’s almost flat and then it switched off, I don’t know what to do’. I’d give you a suggestion, but I want all those pills for myself.

Then when I got home from the gym, two text messages, first just reiterated the answerphone message, the second said she found the power cable wasn’t plugged in. If she had intelligence she’d be dangerous…..hahaha.

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