Holy Crepe..

I don’t know why I keep telling you lot all this stuff. I really don’t NEED to make myself look more of an idiot now do I?!

Oh well – As mentioned in other posts, the ever delightful Titselina Bumsqueak and I have been friends for over thirty years. All through the ghastly school years, shatty boyfriends, abominable mother-in-laws.. She knows where all the bodies are buried and as I always say, we have always been – and we will always be – friends through sick and sin 😉

We both grew up in London and in our late teens, we would be out on the razz seven nights a week. I truly don’t know how we didn’t kill ourselves! I suppose it was the fact we only drank (alcohol) on fridays and saturdays that saved us!

We used to go to a lot of different nightclubs, Samantha’s, Banana’s, Uncles – but more often than not it was the Empire in Leicester Square. We used to get in for free as another friend of mine (Fat Sharon) worked for THF who owned it and she got us free passes.

One of the barmen seriously lusted after TB so all our drinks were free and I was best mates with one of the bouncers so we never had any problems! Any fella’s chatting us up definitely got the once over from my “big bro”. He was so lovely. I’m sorry we lost touch.

Anyhow I could tell far too many tales about evil endings to nights out (involving climbing out of toilet windows on more than one occasion!) but this is about the aftermath.

I used to live in Belgravia so we could walk home straight down Pall Mall – about a twenty minute walk. By the time we got in it would be about 3am and we’d be starving so we usually had tea and toast and a rehash of the nights events before going to bed. We’d be up again at 7am to get ready for work so you can see how I don’t know how we didn’t kill ourselves!

Well this one night I decided bollocks to tea and toast I was going to be Fanny Craddock and make pancakes. (crepes)

I was doing brilliantly too. Flipping away with a wrist action a lot of fella’s on my friends list would be proud to have! Well – I got cocky (something else some of the fellas on my friends list could.. never mind!!)

I flipped the pancakes higher and higher until, inevitably, with a grade “allay-OOOP, one hit the ceiling. TB and I collapsed in giggles but even the shrieking had no effect. The pancake was well and truly STUCK! Turns out Artex and batter MAY have been the inspiration for Velcro.

Being a bit buggered by this, we took action and went to bed – and that was that til we got up for breakfast.

My parents had house guests at the time so next morning, we were eating cornflakes in the kitchen whilst my mum was cooking breakfast for everyone else.

TB nudged me right in the ribs (and it bloody HURT!) and looked up indicating I should too.

I followed her line of vision and, horror of horrors – the bloody pancake was peeling off the ceiling. It was about a quarter peeled and slowly but surely, gravity was giving its mating call.

There was nothing for it. I started to giggle.

I laugh like a hyena on helium and that set TB off. We were both cackling like pigs in a slaughterhouse incessantly and my mother was annoyed. She really wasn’t a morning person. The damn pancake kept peeling in slow motion and it was right over my mothers head. It was like watching a train wreck where you can’t do anything.

It was – indescribable. My mother was right in the line of fire for assault with a batter! YIKES!

She picked up two plates and walked through to the dining room just as it fell and landed on the floor with a real flurp, splat noise. She turned around to look but thanks to the breakfast bar blocking her view, only saw TB and I almost wetting ourselves laughing. She thought the noise meant one of us must have blown a “raspberry” – it was that kind of a noise. With a evil glare that could pickle paint, she stalked off.

Quick as a flash, I scooted around the breakfast bar, picked it up and lobbed it in the bin seconds before she came back in. She saw me on the opposite side of the bar to where I had been sat and assumed I was pratting about. She walloped me across the back of the head and told me to “Grow up for crying out loud”.

Thank God she only thought I’d been clowning around! To this day she doesn’t know what actually happened and unless either of my brothers phone the happy hunting grounds and tell her – she never will!

I just had an email from Titselina Bumsqueak right now so I just reminded her of this story and we’re both laughing our heads off – I don’t know what lies ahead for us but I do know that where ever trouble is, TB and I won’t be far behind!

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