Mr William Braces Himself?!

Mr William Braces Himself




Good Morrow, lightly steamed but enlightened Reader,



People jest that I am full of contradictions, as I have many sides to me. I reckon that makes me a multi-faceted diamond. Others proffer the term 'oxymoron', with the emphasis on moron. Charming! Anyway, what's that when it's at home? Never mind, the weather is sunny and every bod (No matter what their shape) is out 'in their figure', as we say in these 'ere parts. Does that mean we are like the USA now and have the right to 'bare' arms? Well, don't know about US, but it's short-term and seasonal here. We leave the other 'arms' to the 'hoods and the cops' and take our chances!



Talking of dodgy situations, I'm involved in a hold-up situation right now. No, reader, don't panic. There are no guns involved--yet! (Who do you think I am, dopey Jim 'So ya err' McDonald from #Corrie?). No, it's my blinkin' trousers again. Now before you start thinking this is an elaborate attempt to explain away an unfortunate misunderstanding in the supermarket recently, then you are so wrong. Don't you know me by now? No, actually, come to think of it, don't answer that!



You see, it's like this; I urgently require a 'lady who does'. (Now you can stop that thought in your head right there. My trouser problem is a serious and potentially life-threatening matter for me!) I mean, I have been overindulging on the spuds and fire-water recently, together with the ol' guy prob of 'ass disappearance'! Stop laughing; it's a known phenomenony type doofer. Ol' lads' butts fade away, but are never forgotten; never mind losing love-handles, I can't see my shoes and I have no continental shelf, like Beyoncé's at the rear to keep the johdpurs at waist level. My bags have been like the 'Dow Jones' recently--yea, up and down like a 'hoor's droors' as they politely say round here. Of course, I wouldn't demean myself to say that, but I'll stick it here in my diary to give you a larf! Also I should stop keeping all my worldly goods in my trouser pockets. I call it my family jewels, but I think people had started to think I was spending too much time handling my 'family jewels', if you catch my drift, and I'm sure you do!



Any road, my lady 'what does', after she got over the initial shock of seeing me constantly fiddling with my fork and seeing gravity take over and me bending over to rearrange my trousers and undercrackers, suggested braces. By the way, I now (Unfortunately) have lived to demonstrate in glorious technicolour the phrase, "Shove it where the sun don't shine!" Very embarrassing, but very witty comment by my normally demure housekeeper. She's great! We have a wonderful understanding; she runs round and does all the work and I chase her and banter her with my ribald humour. It seems to work for us both. I'm sure she'd do it for free; no, not that, the cleaning etc. She'll turn her hand to anything. (Again, it's all in your own minds!) The other day, she helped me erect my line-pole; it was rusty and had been in the garage all winter. I'll leave that there, if you don't mind, along with the clothes swaying in the breeze, when the spring-clean was complete. She also gave the garden and me a 'short back and sides'. Is there no end to this woman's talents? Leave it, before you start suggesting 'Happy Endings' and all that. We're too set in our ways for all that kaffuffle!



Any rate, I needed the braces after the incident in the shopping centre, when I was carrying bags in both hands and could not hold onto my 'breeks' as they drifted to the floor; of course, all captured for posterior, on CCTV and the memory banks of hundreds of horrified shoppers and regrettably two grumpy security men. What is it about minor officials? They looked like I had done it on purpose. I stammered that they could see my embarrassment on my red face. They cheekily said, they might have done, but they were too busy looking at the rest that was on show. I should have worn my 'lucky' undershorts that day, but at least they were freshly laundered by you know who. Thankfully, I got away with a final warning!



Well, you'll be glad to know that the braces have done the job, as long as I literally get the hang of them. My daughter says I look like your man from the 'Wall Street' movie. No, not the doorman--Michael Douglas! (Good luck to him and the missus! We all have our trials, but it's even harder in the public eye; mind you, I could do with some of the wealth). Anyway, the Dow Jones can do what it likes, my trousers are holding up, Gordon Gekko style!



Before I go, did you see Dolly Parton on the box this week? What a gal!

Couple of quickie quotes.."I'm not offended when they call me a dumb blonde, 'cos I ain't dumb and I sure ain't a natural blonde!" Also, "No, I couldn't go into politics, although I was tempted, but there have been too many big 'boobs' in the White House before!"



I'm off now to the shops. Need food and drinks. I'm going on a sea-food diet, instead of my 'See food, eat it' diet. I'm cutting back on the alcohol calories and for all the right reasons, but all this talk about the health risks is 'driving me to drink' Boom,boom. Cheers everyone. At least, I don't smoke. Give it up, if you do. Just think of Liz and Becky in Coronation Street puffing their way to an early grave. I can't be passive to stomaching such a bad influence on young women! Lecture over.



Hope my braces hold up today. Any 'hitch' and those security guys will have my 'family jewels' for pips on their officious peaked caps! Wish me luck?!



Yours anxiously but 'baring' up as per

The blogging Gogfather!