So a few days later we was orf ter Fungrola for our ‘oneymoon. I’d booked it fer Reen as a surprise like end, she was over the moon abhet it.
We’ve ‘ad a week at the ‘otel Alopecia (wot means souf Spain) all in, end it was blindin’. Mind it weren’t wifout its own ahps end dahns. We was in the queue at Gatwick end some chavs was playin' up so I’ve ‘ad ter ‘ave a word like.
Then on the plane there’s an announcement put out thet “the pilot’s took a turn was feelin a bit dickey end could anybody lend the plane?” So I’ve went ahp there end although it’s a bit tricky, it was more or less like drivin’ a tenk what I did when I was a Desert Ret, so I’ve got us down like wifout too much fass end thet was thet.
The local TV in Fungrola end Sky wanted ter interview me but I weren’t interested end told ‘em not to make a big fing outta, it so it’s all blew over.
The Alopecia was great though, end even better, there was a pub across the road called the Queen Vic what was run by Steve end Dora from Dagenham. So any time we couldn’t eat the grab what the Alopecia dished ahp, we could nip over there end ‘ave roast beef end Yorkshires end all the trimmings. Lavverly.
Reen suggested thet we ‘ad some Spanish grab too, so one day we ‘ad Bonjella, a sort of fing wif rice end sheels in it. Mind I near broke me top set on one of the shells end they didn’t taste of much really. Anuvver day we ‘ad Tampax, a load of little nibbly bits end bobs end they were lavverly. Just like some of our grub at ‘ome; little meatballs and taters. Lavverly.
I had took me white suit from the weddin’ wif me end one day we went fer a ride in one of them ‘orse end carts what’s on the front. Thet was a bad move though cos the bleedin’ orse ‘ad the wind and blew out all over it. It was destroyed end Reen says thet even the best dry cleaners couldn’t save it. Mind I weren’t too sad cause I fought it made me look like a nonce. I ‘ad ter sling it in a bin and spend the rest of the day in me yellow mankini. Reen said it made me look great and everybody certainly was lookin at me. I jast weren’t too sure why.
Anuvver day we went ter Mingus, a little village ahp in the mountains end thet was nice. Lots a bleedin’ tourists though so we didn’t stay too long. Reen bought Mrs Dukes a little flamingo dancer fer the top of ‘er telly as a present so thet was nice.
Me and Reen won the karaoke in the Alopecia when we did a duet of “Sammer Lavin’” outta Grease. We brought the ‘ouse dahn end ‘ad a kebab ter celebrate arter the show. Spent next day in bed wif a jippy belly though, so we reckon it was the kebabs thet was manky.
Annuver night the ‘otel’s put on flamingo dancers and wine ter drink outta one of them fings wif a long spout on it. We was drenched baht it was a great fahn. Lavverly. Then the last night we went over ter the karaoke in The Queen Vic. I done “My Way” by ole Blue Eyes and Reen’s done “Poker Face” by some bint what’s called lady Ga-ga. She near done ‘erself a mischief doin all the dancing and thet and at one time the punters could see ‘er bloomers. Shocking it was.
Then it was time ter go back ter Lahndahn. We’re gonner ‘ave ter get used ter livin’ normal lives for a while as we couldn’t keep ahp wif these last few weeks. Mind it ‘as been fentestic end we’ll never forget it.
I’ll update this bog wif the pictures when I gets a chance.
Thursday, 25 June 2009
The Big Day
We’ve jast come back from our ‘oneymoon in Fungrola in Spain end what a coupla weeks it’s been what wif the wedding and everyfing. If you’ve been following me on the Tooter yer know abhet some of it already. But ‘ere’s the full fing, blow by blow any’ow.
We’d lined up this toffee-nosed git called Godfrey ter be our weddin’ planner, though what we wanted one of them for I’ll never know. ‘Owever Reen was insistent so we’ve ad one. ‘E didn’t come cheap eever as I expect an office ahp West don’t pay fer itself.
‘E’s lined us up wif a Cinderella Coach & ‘orses, a boy soprano trio, a bleedn’ fing of flowers fer Reen ter carry what’s cost four ‘undred knicker and a Grent Mitchell off of Eastenders, looky-likey meeter-greeter for all the guests.
I was wearing an all-white suit like thet Peter Andreas end Reen ‘ad a fairy princess dress like thet Jordan. She said we boaf looked lavverly but I finks we looked stoopid really, but when I said so ter Reen she gave me one of them looks.
Any’ow all thet lot was gonner cost abhet five grend, but more of thet later.
So the big day arrives and the first problem is thet I’ve slept in like. I’d ‘ad few shants the night before ter steady me nerves end I musta ‘ad a few too many. Any’ow I ‘ears Bert, me best mehn, bangin’ on me door like and we’ve only got ready and up the church with a few minutes ter spare before Reen’s due ter fetch ahp in the Cinderella coach.
We needn’t ‘ave rushed so much cos the bleedin’ coach ‘as ‘ad an ‘itch ain’t it? One of the wheels ‘as jammed up and the bloke what’s driving it’s ‘ad to squirt some gunk on it and some of it’s splashed onter Reen’s Princess outfit, end when she’s finally arrived she’s got a big fackin’ brahn smudge on it and a look on ‘er boat what would curdle milk.
Fr O’Shea’s done the business all right end thet bit’s went smoove like; no ‘itches. Only bit of the day what’s went good. Shame we couldn’t say for them little soprano gits. According ter Godfrey they ‘ad audition for thet Simon Cowell end they were the dog’s swingers. So they pipes ahp Pie Jesu jast arter the vows, and suddenly one of their voices breaks and ‘e starts soundin’ like thet Paul Robson singin’ a bleedin’ Negro spiritual. It all went ter pieces and they was asked ter shat ahp.
So then me and Reen’s got back out inter the Cinderella coach to be taken to the Bombay Mahal where the ‘oneymoon was being held. Reen used ter be married ter Sanjeev, a Bollywood actor, before ‘e died, so she’s got connections there. The Bombay Mahal’s run by Raj, one of ‘is uncles or sammink. We lav a curry end Raj was offerin’ a great deal so we couldn’t say no.
Any’ow we’re on our way ahp the ‘igh road and the fackin’ coach-wheel ‘as jammed again. This time matey’s not been able ter fix it so we’ve ‘ad ter abandon it and get a proper cab he rest of the way.
We get there and the Grent Mitchell lookey-likey’s there meetin’ end greetin’ the guests end’ ‘e’s gahin dahn a bomb. E’ looks the part end everybody finks ‘e’s the biz.
But ‘arter a while, cos I fink people’s been buyin’ ‘im one or two too many scotches, ‘e’s started to get a bit lairy. ‘E’s givin’it all “When we was in Afghanisten lookin’ deff in the eye” end “Yer don’t ‘ave time ter fink when the enemy’s comin’ atcha” Well I was a Desert Ret end I done me bit end seen real action and I know thet he ain’t, so I’ve told ‘im ter turn it dahn or’ e’d ave ter leave.
Well ‘e’s packed it in fer a while but all the time ‘e’s getting more kale-eyed. Next fing, ‘e’s started smackin’ a few of the guests so thet was it. I’ve went over ter I’m end grabbed ‘im by the nadgers and told I’m ter eff orf sharpish. ‘E was gonner kick orf so in the end I’ve stack the nut on ‘im and thet was thet. There weren’t no more trouble outta ‘im.
Rest of the day went OK but I weren’t ‘appy wif thet Godfrey and he noo it. There were no way ‘e was gonner get five K outta me, but when I went ter tell ‘im e’d done a runner end we ain’t ‘eard from ‘im since.
Any’ow then at the end of the day Reen and me’s forgot that we’re wed end we’ve went ‘ome to our own flets. We did laugh the next day when we realised it.
We’d lined up this toffee-nosed git called Godfrey ter be our weddin’ planner, though what we wanted one of them for I’ll never know. ‘Owever Reen was insistent so we’ve ad one. ‘E didn’t come cheap eever as I expect an office ahp West don’t pay fer itself.
‘E’s lined us up wif a Cinderella Coach & ‘orses, a boy soprano trio, a bleedn’ fing of flowers fer Reen ter carry what’s cost four ‘undred knicker and a Grent Mitchell off of Eastenders, looky-likey meeter-greeter for all the guests.
I was wearing an all-white suit like thet Peter Andreas end Reen ‘ad a fairy princess dress like thet Jordan. She said we boaf looked lavverly but I finks we looked stoopid really, but when I said so ter Reen she gave me one of them looks.
Any’ow all thet lot was gonner cost abhet five grend, but more of thet later.
So the big day arrives and the first problem is thet I’ve slept in like. I’d ‘ad few shants the night before ter steady me nerves end I musta ‘ad a few too many. Any’ow I ‘ears Bert, me best mehn, bangin’ on me door like and we’ve only got ready and up the church with a few minutes ter spare before Reen’s due ter fetch ahp in the Cinderella coach.
We needn’t ‘ave rushed so much cos the bleedin’ coach ‘as ‘ad an ‘itch ain’t it? One of the wheels ‘as jammed up and the bloke what’s driving it’s ‘ad to squirt some gunk on it and some of it’s splashed onter Reen’s Princess outfit, end when she’s finally arrived she’s got a big fackin’ brahn smudge on it and a look on ‘er boat what would curdle milk.
Fr O’Shea’s done the business all right end thet bit’s went smoove like; no ‘itches. Only bit of the day what’s went good. Shame we couldn’t say for them little soprano gits. According ter Godfrey they ‘ad audition for thet Simon Cowell end they were the dog’s swingers. So they pipes ahp Pie Jesu jast arter the vows, and suddenly one of their voices breaks and ‘e starts soundin’ like thet Paul Robson singin’ a bleedin’ Negro spiritual. It all went ter pieces and they was asked ter shat ahp.
So then me and Reen’s got back out inter the Cinderella coach to be taken to the Bombay Mahal where the ‘oneymoon was being held. Reen used ter be married ter Sanjeev, a Bollywood actor, before ‘e died, so she’s got connections there. The Bombay Mahal’s run by Raj, one of ‘is uncles or sammink. We lav a curry end Raj was offerin’ a great deal so we couldn’t say no.
Any’ow we’re on our way ahp the ‘igh road and the fackin’ coach-wheel ‘as jammed again. This time matey’s not been able ter fix it so we’ve ‘ad ter abandon it and get a proper cab he rest of the way.
We get there and the Grent Mitchell lookey-likey’s there meetin’ end greetin’ the guests end’ ‘e’s gahin dahn a bomb. E’ looks the part end everybody finks ‘e’s the biz.
But ‘arter a while, cos I fink people’s been buyin’ ‘im one or two too many scotches, ‘e’s started to get a bit lairy. ‘E’s givin’it all “When we was in Afghanisten lookin’ deff in the eye” end “Yer don’t ‘ave time ter fink when the enemy’s comin’ atcha” Well I was a Desert Ret end I done me bit end seen real action and I know thet he ain’t, so I’ve told ‘im ter turn it dahn or’ e’d ave ter leave.
Well ‘e’s packed it in fer a while but all the time ‘e’s getting more kale-eyed. Next fing, ‘e’s started smackin’ a few of the guests so thet was it. I’ve went over ter I’m end grabbed ‘im by the nadgers and told I’m ter eff orf sharpish. ‘E was gonner kick orf so in the end I’ve stack the nut on ‘im and thet was thet. There weren’t no more trouble outta ‘im.
Rest of the day went OK but I weren’t ‘appy wif thet Godfrey and he noo it. There were no way ‘e was gonner get five K outta me, but when I went ter tell ‘im e’d done a runner end we ain’t ‘eard from ‘im since.
Any’ow then at the end of the day Reen and me’s forgot that we’re wed end we’ve went ‘ome to our own flets. We did laugh the next day when we realised it.
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