The dinner party…

A posh friend of the family has just retired, and has decided to keep herself busy by learning the arts of the gourmet. Last Saturday, my (whole) family and I were amongst several guests cordially invited to a right proper la-de-fucking-da bash, with the finest expensive cuisine available

(This was, to be honest, totally wasted on my common-as-muck taste-buds, which have long since been obliterated by the savage combination of cheap cider and diet of ‘Tesco-value-blue-stripe-super-saver-don’t-even-know-what-it-is-because-the-label-has-fell-off-the-tin-but-fuck-it-anyway-it-was-reduced-so-it-will-do’ fodder.)

Note to self - no more fuck-off sized multi-hyphenated phrases

I apologise.

Moving on…

So, toffed-up-to-the-nines, we turn up. The present Mrs Pooflake looks stunningly resplendant in her sophisticated black dress, the flakelets adorable in their little suits. The finest china and silverware is out, and everybody is on their supremely best behaviour. (I was on top form…I think I only said ‘cunt-flap’ once, accidentally, and I believe it went unnoticed – result!)

The meal is excellent and goes well, I spend the whole time showing off, lying through my teeth pretending to be a veritable raconteur of the finer things in life, whilst my miniature Aryan race children are a credit to TPMP and I, sensible and well spoken, they display manners and knowledge beyond their years.

The party soon moves from the dining room to the bit where the kids go off to play, the ladies use an excuse to scuttle off to the kitchen so they can gossip and slag off the men, and the gentlemen have moved on for port, cigars and other such pretentious bullshit whilst we discuss ‘manly’ subject like brake-horsepower, world affairs, and the miracle that was Cov City’s latest victory.

After a while, the women join us and as we are all congregated in the conservatory before leaving. I casually mention the fabled tradition in my family of my boys being allowed to stay up late with me on a Saturday to watch ‘Match Of The Day’. Just then, the kids enter the room. As they approach, they are accosted by one of the old trouts who grabs my 5 year old son, rattles his cheek and cackles:

“So then, sonny, I’ve heard about you…tell me, what do your family do every Saturday?”

My son grins hugely and replies instantly: “We get a massive chinky in!”

“Mmmf” I say, spitting a gob-full of posh plonk across the room before trying to correct him in the vain hope of resurrecting some degree of poshness.“Erm…..ha haha….Noooo….after that…”

“Ooooh yeah” my son says, realising his mistake before continuing: “We watch ‘Match Of The Day.’ It’s brilliant!” he bleats with a big smile and a cute ‘thumbs up’, prompting everyone to laugh, and me to sigh deeply, having rescued the conversation.

But then, just when I thought I had gotten away with it, my youngest continues to blurt out: “Then...after that….we have to go to bed…(here he frowns and grumbles)...because it’s Mummy & Daddy’s ‘BIG SEXY TIME’!”*

…


At this point, my long-suffering missus tries to melt the walls with the glowing shame-heat from her face, as my sons launch into sounds effects like: ‘Mwwaah!, Mmmmmwaahh! Uh Uh Uh Uh Uhhhhh!”

I tell you, from the look on some of those witches’ faces, you’d think they’d never had a nice stiff cock inside ‘em at one time or another.


What…? Tenuous?...kids are housemates too aren’t they?



*The thing is…I don’t even know where he got the idea from…Every Saturday? I fucking WISH!
( Pooflake braces for an onslaught..., Tue 3 Mar 2009, 16:05, 8 replies)

Tenuous it may be.
It's well worth a click, and not just because I spat water all over my desk at the cunt-flap bit.
( Moey, Tue 3 Mar 2009, 16:10, closed)

Office lol
that was awesome, have click.
(Eldoofus, Tue 3 Mar 2009, 16:15, closed)

Tenuous, yes
Funny, yes.

Click? Oh yes.
( Davros' Granddad a voice of calm reason in a world of spastics., Tue 3 Mar 2009, 16:39, closed)

Hell yeah!
I clicked.

I'm still waiting for the opportune moment to bring up "the hedgehog incident".
(Captain Placid 24/7 ball gags, brownie mix and clown porn, Tue 3 Mar 2009, 17:09, closed)

I hope your kids get your sense of humour.
Mind you Mrs Pooflake must have one to put up with you : )
( girlinthehole, Tue 3 Mar 2009, 17:35, closed)

Beautiful, intelligent, funny, patience of a saint...

She must have been Hitler or something in a past life to have got lumbered with me.
( Pooflake braces for an onslaught..., Tue 3 Mar 2009, 18:22, closed)

I don't believe that for one minute
(the Hitler part)

*clicketty-clicketty-click*
( Tourette's ( . )( . ) has a monkey hair in her fried egg, Tue 3 Mar 2009, 19:14, closed)

Bwa ha ha
At least they got the kissing sounds in--shows ya gots class, m'bhoy!
(TDub Nunc id vides, nunc ne vides on, Tue 3 Mar 2009, 20:16, closed)