Neurotic mum
I've already talked about my sweet but as neurotic-as-a-box-of-kittens mother earlier on in this post, but despite the compulsive need to exert some control over the lives of her nearestand dearest, she's spectacularly missed the mark a few times.

When I first started seeing ex-Mrs PJM for we'd happily shared my bedroom when she stayed over for some time when mum stopped by to ask if I "was being careful". The fact that I'd been "being careful" twice a night for three months, not to mention the fact that I'd been "being careful" for seven years with several previous partners went totally amiss. I think I responded with "well, we keep meaning to discuss contraception with each other, but can't seem to find the time" which put her in a state of utter neurotic meltdown. I feel a tad guilty for that.

I regularly field all sorts of questions about my lifestyle like "I hope you're being careful with your bike!", so I showed her pictures of what Darren Berrecloth (google him) does with an identical machine. Oops.

The one that caused me the biggest pang of guilt was when my folks came round to see my new place. Mum couldn't resist a nose around, but was rather abrupt in walking out of the bedroom as fast as possible with a slight beetroot tinge to her cheeks. Why?

Well, (I'm going to get in really deep shit for this) a couple of days before I'd been entertaining a lady having enjoyed a superbly debauched evening at my place, but neglected to the hide away the somewhat diminished packet of twelve which was left on my bedside table with the lid open.

I really shouldn't find that funny, but I can't help it...
(Bicycle Repairman "you're also a bit of a wanker", Mon 12 Mar 2007, 14:49, Reply)