Dad died recently,
and due to some cockup, he was in a "care" home for a few weeks, before the hospice. I was in his room after he'd eaten and he asked if he could use the loo; the bitch of an assistant asked if he could wait, as they were serving dinner, and it would screw up their rota or whatever. Dying of prostrate cancer, and that BITCH says that. I really felt like dropping her on the spot.
(Bear Pookie The Frankly Challenged. Halloween is coming to town., Fri 29 Feb 2008, 9:47, Reply)