Today’s narrative is co-written by a special friend who’s sitting next to me on the sofa providing offbeat prose and vape smoke. When I say special friend I don’t mean I’m that fond of her; moreover she’s a bit dim.
Coincidentally (well nearly) she was brought up in the west Leeds suburb of Gildersome, a conurbation I know well through scores of 970’s/80s tarries to the village when visiting cousins who resided in the area at the time.
I’ve not asked my two male cousins, who’re at the same juncture of the ageing process as myself, if they know Julia. I see little point in asking them that as my co-writer is called Sarah.
Consequently, I’ve no idea if my relatives, who share the same maternal grandparents as yours truly, were amongst the numerous lads who used to take her and her buddies up the Donkey’s Back for a teenage snuggle.
Footnote – For the uninitiated the Donkey’s Back was the Gildersome field where teenagers, hormones raging after watching Lesley Judd on Blue Peter, would assemble to swap stories and bra sizes…… Even the lads apparently. If my cousins Tony and Jonny know her it’ll probably be as her teenage moniker of ‘old 32A’…… For completeness, in middle age I know her as 34DD.
Sarah, who famously the first lass in Gildersome to buy spangles for her horse Eddie, is a sensitive soul who gets upset if you innocently opine “I bet you’ve had more c***s than John Wayne’s gun!” A comment which I ordinarily find most women take with the jocularity in which it’s meant.
My fragrant friend offered to help me write this mischievous journal after I was temporarily incapacitated after she kneed me in the Bosker Browns after my John Wayne observation. Proving I don’t bear grudges (not to mention keen to avoid another testicle impact injury) I acquiesced to her penmanship offer.
A creative lady, Sazington has already thought of the title ‘The Straw That Broke The Donkey’s Back’ for this unreliable hogwash…… My own particular creative slant on this hooey is to refer to her as a lady in the previous sentence. A moniker barely coming her way in the past, particularly from her fellow Donkey’s Backites.
As a job my now Ossett located buddy works as head of the ostriches at the Yorkshire Wildlife Park. Here she takes the flightless birds for walks, baths them and reads them bedtime stories. A trained vet with a strong stomach, Sazbert also carries out avian circumcisions and when required enemas…… Thankfully she gives her hands a right good wash prior to cooking tea.
As a part-time role she can be found wandering the streets of Ossett handing out fast food menus and partaking in non-stop vaping. Her vape habit so bad that locals are oft heard to say “There’s no smoke without Sarah.”
The first of her thus far eight husbands left her after finding out she wanted to add to the eighteen cats which at the time strolled their Morley home. This near twenty moggies bizarrely all given the name Gregory by the eccentric west Leeds lass. A fact causing all sorts of confusion when Sazza asked her twelve kids “Has anyone seen Gregory?”
Right, enough of this silliness as there’s some coming to view my mum’s house (where I currently reside) which is currently on the real estate market….. In particular, I’ve got to make sure Sarah’s chained up in the garage before they arrive!