Other people

A woman on a mobility scooter is asked by a man standing at a cat charity display if she'd like to donate, she shouts out "I don't like cats, I'm a dog person" - I like her honesty, bellowing across the shopping precinct. 

As I walk out of an entry near to work I pass three people talking, I don't notice what one of the men looks like but it strikes me that the man and woman standing next to each other are dressed like Wayne & Waynetta Slob. The only words I catch, during a quiet part of the podcast I'm listening to, come from Wayne "...stopped speaking to me because I've fucked off to go and get some sex, I mean we've all done it in the past..." 

A quarter of a century

Today is my brother's birthday, he is 25, a frankly horrifying thought, since in my head is eternally 8. It is also no panty day (who the fuck says panty? I feel sick typing that), or at least according to Twitter it is and this has amused me no end. You see, one of my lasting memories of my brother is of him at a youngish age, skipping round the garden while my friend and I sat in the sun drinking wine that we'd bought solely because it was called Fat Bastard. He was topless, it was hot, soon his shorts were off and then before we knew it his pants were off and he was whirling them round his head shouting "full monty" at the top of his voice. We were in part hysterical and in part shocked. I'll admit this is weird behaviour for anyone but the blame for this incident lays squarely at the feet of our Dad. 

I have a feeling I'm repeating myself here but I can't be sure so I'll tell the story anyway and you can skip it if you're still reading... 

Anyway, in his part time Dad was the concert secretary at a local social club, a role he would take very seriously, because he liked to perform for people. One year they organised a Mother's Day show where as a treat for the women, the men all performed various skits, songs and the like. One of the pieces they did, which may or may not be a treat depending on your definition of the word, was a Full Monty routine, yep, like the film of the same name, him and a bunch of other older men danced to You Can Leave Your Hat On, removed their jackets and shirts, ripped off their velcroed trousers and finally, throwing a pair of spare pants they cunningly hidden in their hats into the crowd they pretended to have done the full monty. Someone filmed the whole show, there's a copy of it somewhere and that is where my brother got his inspiration for his impromptu garden performance from. It's a wonder social services didn't call round. 

And this is why it seems fitting that his birthday should coincide with such an auspicious day.

(Incidentally, it's also made it so that I can't appreciate Magic Mike like a fair proportion of the population can)