Thursday, June 19, 2008

Pride Comes Before A Fall

Oh that’s a bit of a cliché title. But it’s quite accurate isn’t it? We’ve all known someone, or maybe it’s even happened to you, where pride or vanity has preceded a disastrous fall from grace or possibly a severe attack of acne. Think Margaret Thatcher ousted from power or Brittany Spears covered in boils.

( No, actually don’t think Brittany Spears covered in boils that gal needs a break and she’s young so she’s entitled to have spots – OK - think Joan Rivers covered in boils instead. Oh yes that’s muccccch better. Mind you it’s possible the boils could be mistaken for some loose beadwork or possibly even her nipples.)

Now Mrs T has no pride. Why, she will happily consume huge bars of chocolate and allow her legs to rival a 500 year oak tree for “Best Trunk of the Year.” She freely admits to the world she is a hopeless cook, poor housekeeper and a sorry excuse for a woman. Mrs T has also had three children which means she has been caught many a time on the loo with her knickers around her ankles and thus reduced to her present humble status of a fraught, disturbed (and underpaid) housewife.

Except for her driving skills of course. When it comes to driving Mrs T is supreme. Yep, I’ve studied “Grand Prix Crashes and How to Survive Them” with due care and attention, I worship at the feet of Jeremy Clarkson and I can cut up a boy racer with no trouble at all. And with my Anti Tank Missile mounted on the roof of my Cmax and machine guns at the ready I’m the Scourge of The Home Counties; an agent of retribution for all those road hogs out there who would do battle with Mrs T for the outside lane and first place in the queue for the Drive Thru. (If you’ve not read
My School Run tirade or even my further diatribe The Bitch is Back you’d better do so now.)

By the way did you read my post on
Disconnected Consortium entitled Life in the Fast Lane which was all about Driving? No? Shame on you! Because it’s all about Mrs T’s consummate skills as a driver; Mrs T has never had an accident!

Well apart form that one earlier in the year that I mentioned back in
The Bitch is Back.
And that wasn’t really my fault, so it’s not a real accident. Neither is the Wing Mirror Incident because as I said before; wing mirrors are just optional extras aren’t they? So they don’t count. Well, not on my book anyway. (It’s a big book.)

Oh, by the way…Did I tell you the loss of the other car’s wing mirror made it to the front page of the local paper? Apparently, someone saw it spinning off and thought it was an alien space craft; they got £50 for the exclusive story. I don’t know who the snitch was though. Who would want to profit from someone else’s misfortune like that? Not me; I’m way too honest.

Anyhow let me explain about the other incident. Poor Mrs T was blocked in by 3 cars in the doctor’s surgery. Silly, silly people who should have known better than to block in a woman who needs to reverse who has a sick child in her car. Of course I still had my lovely Volvo then which didn’t even get a scratch from the resulting collision. Alas, the Vauxhall Vectra, which was parked sideways on behind me, did not look so pretty. It looked… kinda…squashed. In an attractive “Modern Art” sort of way. An expensive piece of Modern Art… if you know what I mean.

Of course, Mrs T, who would never be dishonourable (except in relation to the Gutter Press) went into the doctor’s surgery to declare her rotten, abysmal luck in the most grovelling and snivelling fashion. Unfortunately, it was peak time on a Monday morning which meant it was packed with persons in various shades of green awaiting their overdue appointments. Thus Mrs T was slightly embarrassed at having to announce her wrongdoings to the foul tempered inhabitants of about 20 or more people. Mr Joe Bloggs, the Vauxhall Vectra owner, did not look too pleased either when he realised it was his car Mrs T was talking about in the following fashion…

“Um… there’s a very interesting piece of Modern Art in the car park. The paintwork is particularly unique; a fine blend of green and white with a dash of bumper. The registration number is….”

Mr Bloggs was not amused. There was nothing for Mrs T to do but flirt and flash her eyelashes in order to soothe Mr Bloggs’ nerves. Instantly Mrs T was transformed from a sharp, sophisticated, highly intelligent female with superb driving skills who has made a slight error of judgement caused by some selfish morons’ stupid parking into a silly, dizzy woman with no brains (although surprisingly a brunette) who required the sympathy and understanding of a true gentlemen. (Mrs T hastens to add she didn’t overplay the flirting too much as it was only a Vauxhall Vectra and not a Bugatti Veyron in which case she might have been tempted to accidentally drop her spare knickers from her handbag – the G sting ones she uses for flossing not the comfort Mr T fool-proof ones.)

Anyway, Mr Bloggs soon came round to Mrs T’s way of thinking and even thanked her for owning up to her heinous crime! So you see it wasn’t in fact a proper accident. It was just a little “misunderstanding” between two cars; Mrs T’s driving skills still reign supreme.

Well they would if it wasn’t for the little “misunderstanding” she had on Tuesday.

Umm. Yes…. Mrs T had a little collision with a Nissan Micra… while she was reversing – again.

Now I’d gone to Mrs P’s house which having a little small holding attached is up a dirt track. Of course when I got there I remembered that we had cancelled tennis as Mrs P had a prior arrangement. Now the cleaner was in residence and aware that Mrs P was not in had not parked so diligently as normal leaving Mrs T with the choice of two equally unpleasant manoeuvres requiring her to reverse. Mrs T took what she thought was the easier version, as she has done before, and reversed back down the drive on to the dirt track. It requires some concentration as it is a long drive and one must obviously not impale one’s car on the gateposts.

Alas Mrs T was so busy watching the gate posts she did not see the little Nissan Micra which had mysteriously parked sideways across the bottom of Mrs P’s drive. Mrs T did hear the sound of crumpling metal though. This was shortly accompanied by some mild vocal obscenities. (When I say mild, I mean mild as in the context of softly spoken; the language was pure filth. Well, possibly…. Ssh….don’t tell anyone I know such words… especially Mr T who only just got used to me saying “Oh bother!” when I pull the carbonized Yorkshire puddings out of the oven.)

Now I don’t want to offend any of my readers who might own a Nissan Micra; I’m sure they are highly economical and do a great job…. But when did they add to them to The Matchbox Collection?? I mean it was soooo small how the hell was I suppose to see it there? I mean if you going to park up a dirt track in the middle of the countryside you could at least be considerate enough to use a Landrover. I’m mean I don’t need glasses for driving but I’m really regretting not attaching those x50 magnifying specs Mr T uses for examining our bank account.

Anyway here’s a picture of a Nissan Micra….

…And another looking marginally similar after being reversed into by Mrs T…

Yep, it wasn’t looking good and that’s why I won’t be driving a Nissan Micra.

Life’s a bugger sometimes isn’t it? We’d all like to be driving around in a some impregnable car but the law of economics says that’s just not possible. But maybe we should all be a lot more careful when driving.

And that includes Mrs T.

Anyway must dash as Mr T has just let me out of the cupboard.


Mrs T.

Ps. Yep, I’ve no pride left at all now. None. Nope, none whatsoever.

Pps Did I tell you that I’m one hot sexy vixen between the sheets? There ain’t a woman to compare……

Ppps Mrs G – Eve’s Lungs- I’ve got 8 mirrors – things are looking good! (No yoga though – I ain’t seen my feet for 10 years.)

Ppps; Coming soon; Bond is Back in… The Man with The L’Oreal face Cream

Copyright Jane Turley 2008


  1. The Nissan Micra is obviously the runt of the litter and it looks, to me, as if you did the owner a favour by putting it out its misery. Were you offered a reward?

    Am wondering what the marketing slogan for this car might be ...

    The new Nissan Micra: an accident waiting to happen.

  2. That one can be reduced from sophisticated to a humbled quivering mass in a flash is NOT GOOD. no! no! no! it is not on, don't do that again.

  3. I have certainly been offered a "reward" by the veritable Mr T - Alas it wasn't quite the one I was hoping for.

    The lady to whom The Nissan belongs is away at the moment. Oh dear; not a pleasant surprise for her return - especially as someone had done exactly the same thing (elsewhere) on the opposite side the previous week!!

    Ever seen a Nissan concertina?

    Oh I love competitions..we could have a competition for a new slogan! I like yours - eminently sensible. Ok mine is..

    The New Nissan Micra: Modern Art at its best.

  4. hehehe...It seems that your driving skills are supreme; only the reversing skills seem a bit wanting.
    But in both instances since you have clearly established the causes the onus of the accident seems to be on the other party - the stationery vehicle. They ought to pass a law about keeping vehicles parked like that, wouldn't you say? :)
    As for the best trunk of the year, I ain't letting you win without putting my best trunk forward lady!

  5. 'G-strings used for flossing'...what a great idea! Must cause a sensation at the dentist's.
    About the reversals, well yes, people who park in odd places are asking for it aren't they?

  6. 'Modern Art at its best': like it. And as far as the Micra is concerened, calling it art is the only way it's going to appreciate in value.

    The ease with which it disintegrates upon impact might be an appropriate selling point: Now you see it ... oops ... now you don't.

    But looking at the way those crash test dummies were handled, I'm inclined to steal and adapt the tag that Bill Bryson (appropriately) suggested Canberra might adopt for its own: "Canberra, a good place to die."

  7. Ah Jajabrit! A welcome return! Yes normally I'm only reduced to a quivering mass when I'm drooling over Pierce (or when I'm on the running machine) but you know.. where needs must... one must play to men's fantasies when required! (Especially when having reversed into their precious car!)

    Usha - Damn those parked cars! What were the owners thinking of? Didn't they know I'm armed and dangerous?

    So we're having a trunk competition - I like it! OK - as evidence of my superiority in these stakes I feel I must openly declare that I've just won a part in the remake of Robin Hood Princes of Thieves - as Sherwood Forest.
    It was a difficult audition I have to say - but the nice bit was that Kevin Costner gets to swing on me.

    Sue- Yep, I entirely agree these people who park in such places (ie within 20ft of me) should know better. Especially as I've got a little sticker on the back window - " Menopausal Woman on Board - Stand Clear."

    I also admit I have had some strange looks in the dentists but I have got a great pair of gnashers....

    Mr PB (II)

    Yes, maybe in a few years The Nissan will be in The Tate Modern, alongside some sheep's innards and an abstract portrait of George Bush. (That's another piece I'm working on.) I think they would sit comfortably together!

    Ah Mr Bryson is a wit! But I've never been to Dear Old Aussie Land. Pray, tell me what is wrong with Canberra? Does it sell weak lager??

  8. Britney need a break from making crap music. Once she starts that break, the world will be a better place!

    The poor ickle Micra. There is was looking all small and lonely, and then some mad woman too busy chunking choccie in her mouth then looking in the mirror slams in to it. I heard that the micra had just been and got it's nails done and had spent a fortune on a new hair style. And look what you did to it.

    Mrs T - Menace extraordinaire.

  9. Hey, I think you are on to something with the sticker idea. How about 'Menopausal Woman on Board. Park next to me at your own risk!' Think anyone would notice? They'd notice me - I'm the one who either parks over the line or spends all day going backwards and forwards ... Durrr!

    I read somewhere that you could get stickers saying 'Slow Driver - 9 points already - please overtake' and was very tempted, thinking that those annoying and dangerous tailgaters would leave me alone. Why do they tag along about 3 inches behind? Why do they never realise that that is why I'm going even more slowly? For what speed is the stopping distance 3 inches, I wonder?

  10. Onedia- Me? A tall tale spinner? I'll have you know every word is true... in a kind of surreal fashion... Good to see you back!

    Master Sy - I was not eating choccy at the time...I may have been thinking about it of those really big chunky bars where you have to give it a realy good bite..Oh yum..

    Yeah, I heard that Nissan had just had it's nails and hair done too - that's why I gave it a good thrashing - it ain't fair when some little Cmaxs have to go without and are tethered to the driveway that some sexy little number (but with a lot mileage though) gets all the perks. Humph.

    Mrs B - Please own up to all your accidents NOW. I am quite prepared to turn this site into an "Own up to your Accident on Mrs T's blog" type thingy. (I'm sure there's a better title but I'm a little tired this morning - need some choccy to revive me.) I think it could make some most amusing reading! And if you've got any other secrets feel free...

    Oh yes - sorry about all that tailgating... I just wanted to get to school before 3pm.

  11. Secrets ... now let me see. Will this do? I tell the children they can have a glass of milk and ONE biscuit before going to bed. If it's been a bad day, I snaffle, well, more than one on the quiet. Oooh! What is the Secret of the Universe? Not '42' but Chocolate! Er, am I making any sense here?

  12. Oh I know that secret about the cookies too! And what a jolly good one it is as well. Of course I like a little nibble accompanied by a nice hot toddy too. Oh yummy!

    Just imagine if chocolate was the secret of the universe! If Heaven was a land made of rolling dark chocolate hills, rivers of creamy milk chocolate and skies of mouth watering white chocolate.... Oh I'm in chocolate bliss just thinking about it....

    What's this "42" thing? You're not trying to pass yourself of as 42 again?? Good Lord woman will you stoop at nothing?? Shame, shame on you!!

  13. ywxtvtpIt's 39 actually. Ask the kids. They know better than to say otherwise because, er, because it's true!(!) Yes, black is white!! Could be one for your dictionary of Housewives' Jargon ...?

    Sorry. Very disgruntled today because have to go to work this eve. Grrr.

  14. Oh look, I put the word verification in the comment box. Double durrr. Just say I'm 92 and very sprightly. More than you can say for the Nissan Micra!

  15. Hello Mrs. T,

    This is 'Mewie' - yes, I'm back once more. I'm hoping my new blog will give me the flexibility to continue working on my novel yet inspire me to jot down something memorable as well as keep in touch with loving folks such as yourself.

    In response to your humorous post, pride is my biggest enemy - although it drives me to succeed and make progress, I often get myself in trouble. Hmm... let me take that back - Perhaps it's not pride that's the enemy, but hubris. Fortunately, Mrs. Mewie tends to keep my growing head in check and life for both of us gets better. =)

    Hope you and the Turly family are doing well. God bless.

  16. Hello Mrs B, I saw Mrs P who obviously resides near to the scene of the crime.. the owner of the Nissan has returned and did not look amused... let' hope she doesn't read this otherwise she'll be even less amused!

    92 eh? Still sounds a little on the young side. However, I am impressed by that gold plated ear trumpet. Where can I get one??

    Mewie! A welcome return! I have missed you! And a new blog too? That's grreat because you have much to offer.

    You know you're right pride can actually be a good thing too; but as you say it's when we take it just a little too far... Hmm Mr T would say I need more A LOT MORE pride in some areas- particuarly housework...

    The Turley tribe is well and has expanded with the arrival of Mr Turley senior who is 89 next month and has Alzheimers. He is living round the corner.. a summer of new challenges I think...

  17. Mr. T Senior is in good hands. I'll be praying for the family. Alzheimer scares me to my core - may everyone in the household continue to be filled with patience and strength.

  18. Miss Jayne, you are an excellent driver. And I don't mean the "Rain Man" type. I remember a few of our past exploits. You were always ready with the quick getaway... Thrilling indeed! Nice post you "Witty One."

  19. Mewie,

    Thank you for your kind thoughts. Let's hope it all works out as planned for his final years in comfort with his family. However, he already has some paranoia so I'm not sure realistically how far we shall be able to cope. Only time will tell. Alzheimers is a particuarly distressing condition. I certainly hope it's one I never suffer from. There seems to be a lot of in Mr T's family but then again they have longevity in their family and the two do go together. Only more general madness on my side!

    Ah Mr I, my golfing partner! Why I thank you for the compliment; high praise indeed from a gentleman such as yourself. Delusional obviously, but nevertheless still gratefully received - I'm not one to turn down a compliment as they are so few and far between! (Anyhow, I like delusional people; they are so much more imaginative!)

    Rain Man is an excellent film and an outstanding performance from Mr Hoffman and (Mrs T foams at mouth) also Mr Cruise. Of course Mr Hoffman is a method actor so he spends ages getting it "just so"- I am reminded of that story about Marathon Man where Mr H spent ages preparing himself for the dental scene, depriving himself of sleep etc... and Laurence Olivier just said to him..

    " My dear boy, why don't you just act..."

    A classic line I feel. Ah, Mr Olivier what an actor; God rest his soul. And as for Mr Hoffman - God rest his (very)little cotton socks.


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