Jazzy D's Soul Notes

Like I hate it. I hate the imported FB like button here. We are not Farcebook! Every time somebody sticks one on my post I have to go back to unscreen it, or delete it or leave it screened. I do not tolerate the fucking heart, so please do not do it, okay!

The advantage of living with an alcoholic is the fact that they hardly remember the things they did or said the previous night. I am talking about my cousin. I found him on the same bus as I was on yesterday returning from the Office. He obviously had been in Wetherspoons after his MRI scan. He had not noticed me on the bus till after Bapchild..

We both alighted at the stop opposite the Dover Castle Inn. He went for a Samuel Adams beer, and I had a barley wine bottle. Once I finished that I went home and left him there. Six hours later midday during me watching Miranda on BBC1 he stumbles forgetting that the front door is totally knackered and that we have to enter the back way through the kitchen. I go out from the kitchen through the passageway way to say something like he was obviously pissed and forgot about the front door problem. He goes in a rant about me not opening the front door to me, spouting disrespectable expletives, and then asks about his remaining cat Jasper.

Now earlier I did look for her in the top garden belonging to our neighbours, but could not find her. She is a cat that loves to hide out in areas difficult to find her. Anyway, he goes into a further expletive filled rant about me not getting her in ( I admit I did forget about it but she never comes to me) and saying that he hated me and wanted to kill me if she was found dead. I stormed off upstairs due to his bloody attitude towards me and he began shouting at me in the most horrible way, invoking lots of the C words. I was quite unnerved about the whole fiasco.

He must have found her, and then went to the pub again, according to reports I heard, and came back 11.30 pm. I noticed later that the back door key was on the outside when Phil tweeted me to come up for a drink due to lots of “jack and danny” (a Cockney slang term for fanny). I go up to the pub about 1.30 am and have a couple of beers with him. Arrived back at 3 am.

I wake up around ten and trying to avoid a scene get my coffee and toast quietly whilst he is watching television.

I have just been out to get a newspaper, and on my return, he comes up to me, not realising that I had been out and is as normal to me as any human being. He has obviously forgot about his uncouth behaviour, and knowing that I will not get an apology from him, will let it lie. Dead and buried.

As Phil said to me last night, we all like a drink and he did say to Tim during the afternoon and go home and get refreshed and enjoy the evening as all his pals was up there, and he would have been better company. I concurred.

In a way, I am glad to be away for a short while come this Friday. I shall see my numero uno mate GC and my brother on the Saturday. Monday I will be in Lewes, and going back on the Tuesday.

Sometimes you have got to laugh about these things.