Remote control — 13 Comments

  1. I see your weird shit and raise you the following true anecdote:

    Since he was a teen, Crippled Son has been into Martial Arts. He started off in some form of Kung Fu and now trains in that particularly nasty Israeli one (the one where ‘Traditional Martial Arts Weapons’ means a Glock or a Tech9).

    He used to train at an evening club held in the city, which was about 45 minutes in Dad’s taxi away. Just far enough away that I couldn’t be arsed to drive there and back to drop him off and then do the whole trip again to pick him up 2 hours later. So I used to sit and watch them learning how ‘the rancid dragon scales the ruptured duck’ or whatever the moves where called. I had been heavily into martial arts myself as a teen so it wasn’t much of a hardship .

    The instructor was a rather pretty woman my age and from the moment I first saw her I had a weird feeling I knew her from somewhere…’knew’ in the old sense of the word. Bear in mind I went to a lot of very drunken parties in that area as a teen and probably had a lot of drunken/drugged sex with a lot of girls…if only I could remember.

    Infact I used to give my teenage sons these paternal words of wisdom before they would go to parties: “Remember Son, I probably went to the same party her parents did…”  that seemed far more effective than “have you got condoms?”.

    Week for week, session for session I sat there, racking my brains as to how I knew this woman and had we had freaky deaky monkey sex…and from the way she looked at me I was pretty sure she was trying to recall the same.

    Then one evening she was wanting to demonstrate a particular pattern of hand movements (“Sticky Hands” if we want to get technical) and needed someone as partner for the demo, someone who was the right height and weight and also knew something about Martial Arts but not the particular style she practiced. So she asked me if I’d help.

    Sure, no problem. I pushed up my sleeves and we squared up.

    The moment the put my arm across hers, bar skin to bare skin, there was almost something like akin to a slight electric shock, like when you licked a 9v battery. At least that’s what I felt. I also knew for absolute polygraph sure that I had never slept with her…and by the look on her face she went through something similar.

    After we’d finished the training that evening I just had to know and asked her where we knew each other from. Turns out she was a nurse on the Psych Ward where The Bestes Frau In The World had been detained a few years before.


  2. Perhaps the gods of old were just having a little joke. Do you believe in leprechauns?

    On a completely different tack; is it true the Irish Post Office is bringing out a Che stamp?

    • I have no idea.  I stopped buying stamps years ago, and the letters I get usually just have a business stamp thing on them.  Anyway, why not?  Sure wasn’t Che a grand wee lad from Galway?

  3. I haven’t the remotest idea…..

    I would have been greatly disappointed if you hadn’t written that.

    So, Herself has arms less than 18 inches long?

    • Forearms, yes.  I suppose she could kneel down and plunge in to the shoulder, but that seems rather a lot of effort just to look for an errant device?

  4. though we rarely actually see anything.

    Rarely? Does this mean you actually do see something sometimes?

    Sounds like a textbook case of Poltergeist activity GD.

  5. Some time ago you lost your smoking instrument, it seemed too complicated to call it a pipe, I believe it was of French manufacture. Did that ever turn up?


Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

HTML tags allowed in your comment: <a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <cite> <code> <del datetime=""> <em> <i> <q cite=""> <s> <strike> <strong>

Hosted by Curratech Blog Hosting