Monday, September 04, 2006

Brighton Antique Dealer's Mother

For once Dame M did not have fascinating tale to tell. With the Brighton Antique dealer in full flight, well Dame M knows when to let someone else have the floor.

Brighton Antique dealer's mother is still alive, 94 or thereabouts, and in a nursing home. While this may be a bit touchy for some, we really did have a good laugh. A kind of sad laugh.

I have met BAD's mother. It was at one of BAD's infamous Cup Day bashes and then agian, as blogged, last Mother's Day. She was very pleasant and ok to talk to. Quite sound of mind.

Except, every morning she complains to the staff at the home that a man comes to her room each night and forces oral sex on her. He does it three times during the night and each time she has to wash her mouth out.

It must be a posh or a government nursing home as the staff even went to the extent of setting up a camera in her room to record overnight.

Her latest was that she only has to wash her mouth out twice now. I quote BAD, quoting her mother, 'he is getting old and is not so good anymore. He will be dead soon'.

Apart from that, and removing food from her bar fridge and putting it under her bed, she is quite with it.

I said to BAD that perhaps something happened to her when she was younger, but BAD has the theory that she never experienced satisfying sex and it is all coming out now.

A bit more came out when BAD told us that her late husband only had to touch her and she was instantly aroused. With her slow speech, perfect emphasis and diction, when she said, 'He used to like me because I would get on top', made us faggots realise that perhaps some straight people could quite possibly be good at the biz.

4 comments:

  1. We're very good at the biz otherwise you little faggots wouldn't be here.

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  2. You must have some great memories from the olden days.

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  3. You bet! Horse and buggy, lace-up corsets, crotchless knickers.

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  4. ok, touche. I laughed out loud and R asked what are you laughing at? Just something funny in an email I answered. I blame HE for steering me in the direction of your blog. Messed up my whole life.

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Whenever I wish I was young again, I am sobered by memories of algebra.