Tales Of The Gurrier

So the Gin Lady was stabbed tonight. No it wasn’t me, she stabbed herself, honest. You can read her account of it if you wish but it’s all lies I tell you. First of all she’d been at the gin as usual. Nine pm the horrors start on the button. Maudlin’ she staggers off into the other room muttering about 800 years of oppression and ‘Revenge for Skibbereen’. The next thing I know there are screams, she’s only gone and tried to do herself in. In the foot. “You need to aim higher up” I said. “Up yours Murphy, I’ve gone and buggered me stamping foot.”

Me, I’m in the midst of one of my increasingly regular bouts of bodily decrepitude. Years of Internet and television abuse have left my spine curved like a question mark. The result; this week I am experiencing crippling pains in the arse. Walking, moving, breathing feels like being stabbed repeatedly in the arsecheek with a knitting needle. Hmm.

Anyway up I leap and hobble over, fast as a crippled leper and there’s a ruddy great metal spike sticking out of her foot. Not moving or anything. Just sticking out of her foot like a miniature Millenium Spire.

“Fuck.”

Panic ensues as I tear up the place looking for germolene or dettol or domestos or anything. The first aid kit is an enormous help containing as it does all the emergency supplies necessary for the treatment of ultra dry hair, split ends and chapped lips.
“What the fuck is this, where’s the fucking Dettol. I need fucking Dettol!”
“It’s in the mauve bag”
“What the fuck is mauve! I’ve opened all the fucking bags”
“It’s in the aquamarine bag by the bookshelf. I got it from Boots”
“Stop fucking telling me the pastel shades of the bag woman you’ve got a big spike in your foot. Try panicking or something. Christ my bloody arse hurts.”
Then the intercom goes. It’s the fucking Census man.
“Census! Have you got your forms ready” he says chirpily
“Give me that spike I’ll kill him.”

You know that bit in the horror movie where the killer is just about to murder the female lead and then the doorbell rings. Then they do a split shot whilst the maniac chats amicably with the mailman, signs for the package, the girl is desperately trying to escape, or screaming for help. Then just as the mailman is about to walk away he turns and says “Hey you signed this John Doheny. But this is the old Johnson place.”
“Oh dear, you shouldn’t ought to have said that mailguy. Now you gotta go in the soup too.”

Well it wasn’t like that…exactly. But if he had looked around the corner he would have seen The Gin Lady sprawled on the ground with a big spike in her foot. And as he was about to walk away he did turn to me and say. “Hey you didn’t fill out question number 28.” Jesus give me the fucking thing she could be dead from sepsis at any minute. I wondered about asking him for dettol. The census people must be issued with some form of germicidal protection. They have to visit the Irish in their homes. But I didn’t want him asking any more questions, who knows what the neighbours would tell him. I had to get back inside. He was from the Government, he had forms for Christ sake, he could probably execute me on the spot for sedition, unpatriotic thoughts or harbouring an obviously drunk and suicidal illegal alien. I had to get back in there before she started on the propaganda talk. Delirious on gin and andrenaline it would be ‘The Potato eating Paddy’s’ this and ‘ditch brained mucksavages’ that. I grabbed the clipboard off him and scribbled an answer. I pray it wasn’t are you an illegal immigrant, drug dealer or nonce. Please choose which best describes your lifestyle choice. That got rid of him anyway, he sensed the fear.

Back to the abbatoir. In short order we got the spike out and doused the bad foot in domestos and Finnish unguents. Who knows what infections she picked up from the spike. I’ll have to watch her closely for the dropsy or worse the screaming buboes. It’ll be the shed for her for the next week. Quarantine. I can’t be too careful with me in my weakened condition.

This entry was posted on Wednesday, May 3rd, 2006 at 11:32 pm and is filed under Bloggery. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.