Completely forgot about dead Christine (just wrote the former and realised I'd given it away). Well, she was the poor alcoholic lady who lived at the back of the flats. V. sad story, really. Talks tells that she drank 30 cans of beer per day, no wonder she carked it poor beggar. But I can't believe she drank 30 cans per day, I mean, you'd be peeing like mad wouldn't you? You'd need, like, so much loo roll, for starters. And I'm not mocking the afflicted,honest - it just doesn't seem feasible, to me.
Anyway, however much gallonage she put away per diem is by the by cos (however much) she died, sitting up in her armchair in the front room - no-one found her for days. Apparently, she'd gotten worse cos the social took away the last of her children and it tipped her over the edge and she had a huge binge and died of alcoholic poisoning. Worst of it is: I thought she was about forty odd and turned out (unbelievably) that she was only 26!
So, they had the funeral last week and you know when you see the hearse go past with the coffin on board, and there's sometimes flowers (or what the florists like to call 'a floral tribute' - bless 'em) made up into a word that says 'MUM' or 'DAUGHTER' or the person's name or something. Well, poor Christine had the word 'NUTTER' done out in chrysanths along the side of coffin! I dread to think what was on the other side poss. 'BOOZE HOUND'. Poor cow.
The nice lady with the labradoodle told me that poor Christine's mum was an alcoholic as well; it sort of ran in the family. I mean, the poor cow never had a chance. I don't think she should've been left on her own. Perhaps she should've been in a home or something, with other people to help her. After all, her life merely consisted of having three kids who all got taken away from her and dying of booze at 26.
You can tell I don't have much truck with this Care in the Community malarky. All that happened with poor Christine is that she drove the Community so bonkers with all her comings and goings and vomiting over their hedges that they stopped Caring about her and, basically, waited for her to die. A right shame.
Oh, the other day I had to tell Man Friday who Helen Keller was - he'd never heard of her. After I explained it (as best as I could remember) he said: 'Nah. How did everyone know that the translator was telling the truth? They could've been saying anything. Suppose Helen Keller hated the translator, she could've said: 'I bloody hate you, you tosser,' and they'd translate it as, 'Helen says she's very happy, thanks very much.' He has a point; I don't hold with it, but he has a point.
And talking about hard of hearing, I was in office/cupboard the other nacht and teevers was on in the background. I hear the continuity bloke saying: 'And tomorrow night Josh Hartnett battles vampires with half a lemon.'
So there's me sitting there thinking: 'What, vampires who HAVE half a lemon, or he battles vampires with half a lemon as a weapon?' Then I suddenly realise that the bloke said: '...battles vampires at half eleven.' Can't believe I sat there (for even a minute) and thought about it seriously.
On a serious note, I've been watching that CSI for over a year now and STILL haven't seen a repeated episode. And it's on everyday on several channels at once and I got to thinking: 'Christ, how many of these are there?' I'm not complaining, I really like it, but I feel a bit sorry for the actors; they must be at work 7 days a week. It must be like that indentured labour or something - bet they wished they never signed up for it. Probably a bit like poor Christine: the actors who look about 40 are prob. only in their twenties - they're worn out what with all that staring at bits of lint. And buttons.