Thursday, 26 June 2014

Delve into the mind of a serial f*** up!

Delve into the mind of a serial f*** up!

I am having a bad day and yes I am referring to myself as a serial f*** up. I also thought that seen as though my life is full of them I would like to vent some of my thoughts today.

Firstly how the hell did I manage to put up with an Oedipal loving philander such as James Flannigan? How and why did I let him think that he had the right to make me feel shameful about myself when all along he was doing the helmet haired hussy form whoresville? Why, when the pair reported me to Silvia and co. for accidentally reversing into her brand new BMW did I not run the cheating pair over? Why am I even considering letting that bastard have access to our daughter when he told me that he wanted nothing to do with either of us because Tabatha was also pregnant with his baby? And then when he realised that slaggy Tabby’s baby is indeed brown and he is not in fact the father as James Flannigan has sickly white, flaky skin he suddenly wants to play daddy of the year! The great, humongous f*****!!!!

Sunday, 25 May 2014

An insight into Flannigan's adulterous mind!

I have been thinking and I have arrived at the conclusion that Flannigan’s mother is also to blame for him leaving me pregnant and alone to skip off with Tabatha the helmet haired hussy. After all she is the main contributor to her cheating son’s development and his unethical behaviours through her outlandish parenting style.

Francois Mauriac said ‘We are moulded by those who have loved us and though the love may pass we are never the less their work for good or ill”.

Therefore I am putting 51% of the blame onto her also. Her incestuous like love has left him with no morals, she has loved that boy in a way that you should only love your boyfriend and I think it is sick and twisted. I did try to get on board with it (not in that way!) I just tried to turn a blind eye to the awkwardness of what was and still is their strange relationship. Like the time he sat on her knee pretty much in the foetal position (it would not have been out of place if she had offered up her breast to him, I’m sure I once spotted a breast pump in the utility room of her oversized, chintzy house). James Flannigan and his mother are the most manipulative people that I ever met, why else would I have put up with antics like this?

She didn’t socialize the boy, wanting to keep him all to herself, which is why the man has no social skills and or role in society other than one of those people that you would do a case study on if you were studying criminology. He does have the advantage of good looks which is how he attracts women because if he had to rely on his personality alone he would still be a virgin (unless my theory about him and his mother is correct). She also over indulged him so he has never developed the skill of appreciation. He expects everything handed on a plate to him yet is never, ever grateful and he has no work ethics because mummy pampers and succumbs to his every need. His father left them everything in the will so he will never have to work therefore he will never develop any ethics.

His overindulged parenting has left him an immature, spoilt individual who expects the world to roll over for him. He takes absolutely no responsibility for anything and has zero independence. Really I am not surprised that he left me for Tabatha and her ginger pussy and has declared that he will be having nothing to do with our baby.

I do wonder what he will do when his mother passes away.

I pray that he will go all Norman Batesish and stuff the nutty woman in her rocking chair and imagine she is still ordering him about and goes flipside on slaggy Tabby whilst she is taking a shower!

What the hell was I thinking staying in that repulsive relationship !!!!!!

Friday, 23 May 2014

Preview of second edition - Jenna Jaghe!

Sunday 15th July – I will never recover from this!

Rundown of the single most traumatic day of my life, even worse than when I found out Flannigan was cheating on me and Tabatha was also pregnant with his child and even worse than when I have to look at Tabatha’s helmet hair!

I think that I would rather my mother's new lover Colin have been the black widow and hid my mother’s decapitated head in the fridge and even maybe fed it to me in a pie rather than what he actually is and coincidentally also now has my mother actively participating in!

Throughout my pregnancy I suffered, public flatulence, emotional and often aggressive outbursts towards random, innocent members of the public. I inadvertently acquired my own personal nemesis named Silvia and psychologically scarred her poor boy on far too many occasions. I had to deal with aloe vera and that dreadful Ali creature; not to mention seeing the horror of Tabatha’s mound of what looked like genital hair stuck to her head which has obviously been cut around a helmet. I pissed in Silvia’s daughter’s bathroom thinking it was the show home and had to do the walk of shame on the way out, again adding to the unintentional, emotional trauma I inflicted upon her son but never ever have I ever been subjected to anything as truly disturbing as what I have witnessed today.

I decided that it was a nice day for a walk, so I wrapped Jessica up and thought that I would surprise her gran, my mother, with a lovely Sunday morning, visit.

I arrived at my mother’s and walked straight in (who actually knocks on their own mother’s front door?) Luckily Jessica was sleeping, thank the lord, because I fear if she had been awake, she would actually have gone blind, I know I very nearly did!
I heard voices in the kitchen so I walked straight down the hall without alerting mother that we were there and I walked straight into Colin stood flipping eggs and streaky bacon stark, bollock naked! My eyes widened as I stared at his shamefully small, wrinkly manhood only just visible through a mass of sparse, grey, curly, wiry hair and I swore to myself right there that I would never have another man.

I could not tear my eyes away from his nether regions but I hope it was just a second or two and then something worse happened…….we made eye contact, oh the pain, the emotional and physical pain! I spun 180 degrees on my heels only to be faced with my ‘easily led’ mother also unveiled! I screamed, I literally screamed out loud, in the way that Flannigan screamed when Sarah embedded the nail file into his arse.

This pair of Neanderthals have finally tipped me over the edge and I ran all the way home, looking behind me fully expecting my mother to be chasing me with Colin at her heels donning the fish slice. I ran though my front door and then I realised that I had forgotten my baby!
I started running back towards my mother’s house again talking to myself, praying to the cruel God that had let me witness such an atrocity, such horror, that she was still sleeping soundly and that an exposed Colin was not holding her against his fuzzy, unclad chest.

I had to stop for breath, I felt like I was dying, I really am so unfit and I rang my mother barely able to speak,
“Mother, I do not even want to know or ever discuss what has just happened but I will not be seeing you or all of Colin again and please do not let that barren beast near my daughter!”

“Oh Jenna there you go again, over reacting, come back Colin will make you a lovely bacon butty” and the insane woman who thought nothing of parading a wrinkly, old, disrobed man around her home, the home that I grew up in, the home that my poor daddy paid for, with his clothes on may I add, hung up the phone!

I walked back towards my mother’s house and I know I was chuntering out loud but if the people who were looking at me with raised eyebrows - again knew the emotional turmoil that I had just endured, they too would chunter! I felt like I needed to do what Edna does when she circles the lamps! I was trying to think how my life was before this horrific episode but I now had a visual of Colin’s sparse, shrivelled, shlong and my mother’s hairy left nipple and thoughts and images were rushing into my head like you would not believe and I just could not stop them. I needed a psychiatric nurse ASAP.

I tried to talk to myself about Jessica but oh my god the gut wrenching horror that I had just witnessed was so obtrusive and the visions were coming, oh my god they were coming and oh no I could see my mother and the illicit, despicable, unspeakable things that she was up to and then I could see Colin taking my mother from behind rubbing egg yolks all over her breasts and I made a loud animal noise that attracted far too much attention too early on this once delightful day which had turned into Sunday, bloody Sunday! Why was I seeing these things in my own head? Was I as disturbed as I thought my mother was?

And Colin’s thing, I would never be able to put a mushroom near my mouth ever again! Would I ever be normal again? Was I ever normal in the first place? Those deviants have made me question my own sanity! Was life as I knew it over? I used to like mushrooms but no more, no more mushrooms for me, I didn’t even want to see a picture of one, I never wanted to hear the utterance of one for the rest of my now miserable life. Those two were up to no good and I wanted no part in it, no part at all and now I’m not entirely sure that it wasn’t a mushroom, had it fallen off the fish slice when he turned to greet me? What is going on in my mind? Is this what insanity feels like? I can’t bear it, I want to scratch out my own eyes. Why do we not have a fricking rewind button? I can never unsee this!

I bet that bloody bowl in the middle of the coffee table is for keys, Glenda and Brian were always round.
When I eventually got to my mother’s Colin was upstairs and my mother had put her robe on.

“Sit down Jenna” she commanded whilst passing me a cup of tea and then she started laughing.

“Ha ha ha aghhh ha ha ha you should have seen your face!”


“Your face Jenna, I wish I had a picture of that, your face it was just like when you saw me and your father…..”
“Enough mother” I yelled “there is only so much I can take in one day and I have had my fill for the rest of my entire life right here with your naked chef, what the hell? Doesn’t he even care about the frying pan’s fat splashes? At least wear a bloody apron, anything so he is not so, so exposed and you mother, Jesus wept, you meet a man and the next day you are going ‘au naturel’ like, like you have been doing it forever. What is wrong with you? You are a grandmother for god sake! Sort yourself out mother and do not and I repeat do not invite me for dinner ever, I wouldn’t even take so much as a mint out Colin’s hands!”
And with that I grabbed the pram and flounced off. I slammed my mother’s front door to her yelling “you should try it sweetie then you could holiday with us!” ARGHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!

I walked instead to Carrie’s house but ‘that’ Kevin’s car was parked outside, I briefly considered letting his tires down or writing ‘Kevin sucks’ in red lip liner on his windscreen but instead I chose to go home and lay down and go to my ‘calm’ place!

An extract from the sequel to The Unconventional life of Jenna Jaghe which is available on Amazon

Thursday, 24 April 2014

Dating 'faux pas': What not to do on your first date!

As first impressions count I think that it is only fair that I share some dating mishaps, purely from an observation standpoint, things that I have heard other people talk about. Things that I would never do myself, ever!

Do not eat garlic!

Do not wear chicken fillets, if you go to second base he will be well twatted off!

Do not get that pissed that you end up throwing up down the front of his waistcoat (however if he does wear a waistcoat on your first date, I suggest you do get pissed and vomit all over it!)

Do not call and ask him to hurry when he is on his way to collect you so that he can say good night to your kids - a definite no no if you are wanting a second date!

Do not pass out half naked on his couch when he lives with his parents!

Do not try 'copping off' with his mate and then when he calls round to your house to question your unorthodox methods retrieve your book on personality disorders as a way of explanation!

Do not, I repeat do not, if you are lucky enough to get him to perform cunnilingus, fall asleep in the middle of the tongue lashing, this is apparently akin to calling a turnip a swede in some areas of the UK and you could very well lose an arm for that!

Wednesday, 19 February 2014

Why does my mother want to ruin my life?

So today has been pretty uneventful. No wait a minute......has it hell!!!!!

Started out like any other 'normal' day in my life. Woke up, fell out of bed, turned the TV on and there is my mother, larger than life on a talk show discussing, wait for it......How to enjoy sex in your 60's as much as you did in your 20's!!!! Vom, eugh. As if I need this to start my day and how the hell did she get on TV??? You think this can’t get any worse, well think again. She then goes on to discuss how she is 'getting some' and her 30 odd year old daughter isn’t and that I need to because I am becoming bitter and jealous of other people who enjoy a healthy sex life like her and Colin. What about this woman is healthy? She is completely retarded and then on national TV (international if you include internet broadcasts) she goes on to talk about my predicament with Flannigan impregnating me and cheating on me and choosing Tabatha as she was obviously 'Better in the old er hum sack, if you will, half covering her mouth as if she didn’t want THE WHOLE WIDE WORLD TO HEAR….. I will literally kill this woman, ARGH!!!!!. How will I face my customers today? How will I even walk out of the house today, or ever again for that matter? This woman completely and consistently ruins my life!!!

Am just hoping that I hit my head harder than I originally thought when I fell out of bed and that I am unconscious and having a nightmare.

Tuesday, 17 December 2013

10 Ways to determine whether you are dating a sociopathic bastard like James Flannigan!

1. Egocentricity (e.g. James Flannigan believes that he is Jesus Christ Almighty and he believes that his mother is the Virgin Mary.)

2. Callousness (e.g. James Flannigan has absolutely no regard for anybody other than himself and his neurotic mother.)

3. Impulsivity (e.g. James Flannigan was so impulsive that he slept with Tabatha, who has the worst possible helmet hair in the history of hair doo’s, behind my back.)

4. Conscience defect (e.g. James Flannigan has no conscience – period!)

5. Exaggerated sexuality (e.g. There is definitely something dodgy going on with Flannigan and his mother……that relationship is just not right…..just saying!)

6. Excessive boasting (e.g. Oh my God, all the time! James Flannigan does an awful lot of boasting for a man who has never accomplished anything other than how to live off unsuspecting women.)

7. Risk taking (e.g. Hence the affair with Tabatha, in broad daylight, in my home town!)

8. Inability to resist temptation (e.g. As above, however I really do not know exactly what he was tempted by. I can only assume that he must like girls who look like they have a ginger muff stuck on their head.)

9. Antagonistic, depreciating attitude towards the opposite sex (e.g. Oh he may appear charming at first but the sexism soon starts filtering through because he is not clever enough to hide it. Tabatha just wait and see.)

10. Lack of interest in bonding with a mate (e.g. Actually he has been doing far too much bonding with ‘mates’, so this one may not apply however he has not so far, in his thirties, ever, ever had a relationship that has lasted for longer than 1 year, so could still apply.)

Ladies if you feel that your man has more than 3 of these traits, run for the hills and don’t ever look back ever! James Flannigan cheated on me with Tabatha and now we are both his baby mama’s. This is not a good situation!

Friday, 22 November 2013

'Faux Pas' of the Social Networking Century!

I would like to apologise! The other day whilst I was sat waiting in the doctors surgery for my appointment, after what felt like 15 days of waiting, I decided to scan my Facebook account. Now most people know that I am relatively new to social networking and that coupled with my name being called out over the speaker system, right before I had chance to proof read my status, resulted in me quickly pressing the send button before I dashed off. So to clarify to those I haven't explained this to already; I was not sat in the doctors surgery with a smelly fanny but was in fact sat in the doctors surgery with a smelly granny!

A smelly pensioner would have been a better term to use and would have saved me the embarrassment that the stupid inventer of predictive text has cost me.

Ps. if anybody knows who invented predictive text pass on their name as I am going to sue!