Talking of Christmas.....

Discussion in 'The NAAFI Bar' started by ham-shank, Oct 5, 2005.

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  1. [align=justify]I've just received an e-mail from Mrs Shank informing me that 'we' have volunteered to have her 98 year old grandmother stay at Chez Shank for the Christmas festivities this year. I have been forwarded an itinerary as to where, how and at what time I am required to collect her. I have yet to reply and would be grateful for the advice of other Arrsers as to how I should proceed.

    My problem is this:

    Two Christmases ago I was dicked into having grandmother to stay for 10 days over the Christmas and New Year period. It was a horrible ordeal. On her first night she swamped a brand new settee (2 grands worth) reducing it to a steaming, minging, stinking, bloated sponge. Same night (after handing over the marital bed to her because it was closer to the bathroom and being forced to kip in the spare room) grandmother swamped the fukcing bed!

    On Christmas day she scared the kids so badly with her bushy beard, swollen gums, swampy odour and general cabbage-like behaviour that they refused to go downstairs to open their Xmas presents. For Xmas dinner we were forced to liquidise her turkey and trimmings so that she could get it down her neck. It was such a foul and stomach turning sight that I volunteered to do the washing up and retreated hastily to the kitchen to tuck into several cheap bottles of vino collapso to calm my stomach. She ruined the Queen's Speech by shouting "Vera Lynn? Vera Lynn?" every five fukcing minutes and kept letting off extremely loud, sloppy, long-winded and stomach-churningly fetid farts.

    I turned a blind eye to this until she swamped the other settee at which point I shouted at Mrs Shank, "Can't we put a nappy on that fukcing heap?" This didn't go down too well and, for nearly a week, I ended up sleeping in a dossbag on the floor of the kids' room. To cap it all, on New Years Eve the greedy, dribbling old cutn then broke her fukcing hip as she fell off the armchair whilst trying to snaffle more chocolate toffee cups from the Quality Street tin. I, of course, was required to miss a do that that I'd been looking forward to for about 8 months in order to spend the whole night and half of New Years day sitting in A&E at the local hospital.

    I did draft a reply to Mrs Shanks' e-mail. Something along the lines of:

    Darling

    You really can get to fukc if you think I'm having that stinking, moustachioed, sack of sh*te anywhere near me this Xmas. Send her to your sister's in Canada. XXXXXX

    However, I don't think that my normal upfront way with words is going to mesh. Any pointers on how I might let Mrs Shank down lightly?[/align]
     
  2. I suggest a healthy dose of euthanasia
     
  3. ham,

    You've got 2 1/2 months to go. I'm sure she won't last that long!!! Fecking coffin dodgers grip my sh1t! :D
     
  4. Here you have a problem fella. It is just wrong to have a self propelling swamper in your house. Think about your kids, it will scar them further. You simply must tell Mrs Shank it is not to be!
    BTW... PMSL at " can we put a nappy on that fukcing heap?"
    oh feck is it really that close to 25th Dec... bugger!
     
  5. I can offer no solace or advice - only my deepest sympathies.
     
  6. Dude, your fcuked, I'm sorry but the kind of help you need is beyond my abilities but thanks I just pissed my sofa laughing at your predicament, it's ok though mines leather and just wipes clean. :lol: :lol: :lol: :lol:
     
  7. Tell her that you have booked the family on a short holiday and the old bird is too old to travel. Lie that you have already paid for the tickets and cannot get a refund.

    Then on the day the old witch was supposed to arrive to spoil your fun take the missus on a day trip to Paris or somewhere nice (rules out Paris), tell the wench that you love her. Then pile her back on the train and you can be back in time for tea.

    Or go round the old people home a day early, lure the old stinker out with the green triangle chocs from Quality street and then dump her in the middle of nowhere. Hypothermia should do the rest.
     
  8. Or, combine mine and Dread's ideas:

    Really take the family on a holiday (including the dear old lady) to Holland, then just tell a doctor she doesn't want to live anymore and that'll be the end of it. I would advise not taking the wife with you to the doctor though.
     
  9. Simply inform her that she has to do the picking up, wiping up or p!ss, Sh!t, vomit etc, spend any time in hospital accompanying etc as you did it last time. She'll soon change her mind when she thinks she'll have to do all the hard work instead of lumbering it on you.
     
  10. Cancel my last! Raise money instead towards a proper holiday. Sell the old slag to Shortfuse to use on his mong hunting ranch and country club.

    Maybe if he is feeling generous he will give you 50p.

    You take the whole family along, and while the rest of the family is having fun zeroing their GPMGs on the mongs, Gran is quietly slipped into the "Specialist" Enclosure that he keeps for his more discerning clientel.
     
  11. Thanks chaps. But the advice so far isn't gripping me. Just spoken to a colleague and he has suggested placing the hairy, swampy old boot on e-bay. Apparently, there are some rather strange people ( Cornish, perhaps?) out there who'd pay good money to have an abominable OAP p*ss all over their house. I think I'll give it a go. Any ideas on how I should word the advert? I don't want to put people off, so the advert would have to be a fine balance between attracting the bids of those with a strong streak of Christian charity and the afficianados of MILF (Moms I'd Like to Fukc) porn and Swamping/Water Sports fun. Any suggestions gratefully received.
     
  12. If she's that fcuked in the head, phone her and tell her xmas is off because you've been bombed out by the luftwaffe, with a bit of luck she'll die from shock.
    handy hint: have a kettle whistling in the background for realism.
     
  13. Just say youve been either extended or called back to work, then go hang out with the singles and then you can just get drunk, and swamp all there beds whilst there on leave, or better yet take off and go on holiday on ya own, pick up some strippers and havea blast, just remember to say its in a place where mobile phones dont work, just make sure you take cash with you as she might try and check where you are if you use credit cards!!.

    By the time you get back Xmas will be over youll be partied out and content, and best is the urine gumming old hag will have gone, and your wife will have dried the couch's/and bed!
     
  14. Right so you have been threatend with a visit from someone who swamps all over the place, looks a right fcuking mess in the mornings, farts like a dog with stomach ache and injures themselves trying to get their hands on something they want. Sound about right?

    Does this not remind you of something?

    Thats right you are being visited by a hyped-up concentrated drunken version of yourself. :D
     
  15. Tell her that Frankenshank can stay with the following rules.

    1) Mrs Shank cleans up all piss/shit/dribble
    2) Covers all valuble furniture/carpet in plastic sheeting
    3) Conversation to frankenshank from you will be limited to hello/goodbye at all other times you may be busy elsewhere
    4) Frankenshank wears nappies
    5) Kids have mobile with enough credit to cover their calls to child line for when they are frightened
    6) Every meal for her WILL me laced with diazipam
    7) If she interupts the queems speach, this will be counted as treason, dressed in black and left in the fast lane of the nearest motorway for summary execution.
    8) Congical rites we be observed throughout the festive season or rules 1 - 7 will be null and void and hte old bat should be sent to canada.

    J