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The collected opinions of an august and aristocratic personage who, despite her body having succumbed to the ravages of time, yet retains the keen intellect, mordant wit and utter want of tact for which she was so universally lauded in her younger days. Being of a generation unequal to the mysterious demands of the computing device, Lady Bracknell relies on the good offices of her Editor for assistance with the technological aspects of her journal.

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Location: Bracknell Towers

Saturday, September 01, 2007

Treatment Room 4 revisited



Having found myself once again in Treatment Room 4 on Thursday afternoon, and having but lately been at the receiving end of some not-entirely-subtle complaints from a certain Mr Larkin that he hasn't been mentioned in the blog recently, and that readers might be inferring from that fact that he is no longer my Number One Pop Of Choice, I believe the time has come to expose his vilest torment to date to the wider world. (Well, to the three women and a cat who read this blog, at any rate.)







Also, Hazel left me for so long on Thursday, and the hip I was lying on was eventually so excruciatingly painful, that I attempted to distract myself by taking photographs of The Scary Machine and The Scary Poster. Please forgive lack of symmetry: I was lying on my side and holding the phone out at a decidedly tricky angle.







Anyhoo, regular readers may recall that Pop thinks nothing would be funnier than that he buy me a colonic irrigation treatment as a surprise. This is because he is a Very Bad Man.






One day recently, in Smug McSmug mode, I foolishly opined in his hearing that I was in no real danger of a surprise rectal invasion because he couldn't possibly know the address of the clinic.





Imagine, then, my horror when he revealed that he has the clinic's website saved as a favourite.





How can this be?


Pop is as tricksy as a very tricksy thing, is how. Should you have a burning desire to improve your own detective skills, there may be useful lessons for you in what follows:-








One Monday afternoon, in the not-too-distant past, I phoned Pop to pass the time while I was sitting in the bus shelter behind Sergeant Pepper's Bistro and waiting for my bus home. I have really only the vaguest recollection of having muttered in passing something to the effect that there's an 86 bus every couple of minutes, but that the 86 is of no use to me whatsoever. Careless talk costs lives, though....





That one, casual, off-hand remark was - I learned later - all it took to set Pop on course to detect the whereabouts of the clinic. His first stop was the Merseytravel website from which he was able to glean vital information about the route of the Number 86 bus. Next, he applied himself to the task of establishing which acupuncturists and practitioners of colonic irrigation ply their trade along said bus route. Easy peasy lemon squeezy, apparently.





More than a little flustered by the news that I had been successfully stalked by my own gentleman-friend, I visited the site myself. And, lo! Yes, they do have a facility for the online purchase of gift vouchers for any of the treatments offered at the clinic!





But I still had one remaining ace up my sleeve. (Or so I thought.)





"You can't buy me a set of colonic irrigation treatments", I said, "because there's a four-page form which has to be completed by the patient before treatment can begin". (I may also have said, "Ha!" at this point. Because I Never Learn.)








"The form? Oh, I'll forge that", he replied.




The Editor

10 Comments:

Blogger fluttertongue said...

I wonder whether I am classed as one of the three women or the cat of your readers. I've often pondered why medical practitioners have such unpleasant diagrams on the wall - is it so they can remind themselves of what bit goes where? Or is it to reassure the patient that understanding the innards of the average human is as easy as a child's introduction to the alphabet (the diagrams seem remarkably similar to those found in kiddy books). Wouldn't it be so much nicer if they had a nice pencil diagram, perhaps in a frame, with latin names in italics so that the lay person develops a naive faith in the vast intelligence of their doctors?

Good luck with the irrigation. Having experienced some investigatory related inner bowel probing I can tell you that a 'No Entrance' sign attached to the rear end is not an overreaction.

12:36 pm  
Blogger Lady Bracknell said...

The three women and a cat were my equivalent of the "three men and a dog" who are often called into service when a figurative notion of a fairly small following is required.

Don't worry. Pop can pay for as many treatments as he likes.

I haven't the slightest intention of actually enduring one, no matter how much money he has paid out for the treatments themselves and the hire of a video camera!

12:46 pm  
Blogger Dame Honoria Glossop said...

I felt sure you'd get to the bottom of this eventually, but you should be on guard against any rear action.

9:59 pm  
Blogger Lady Bracknell said...

Have you been leafing through the B Dude Big Book of Lavatorial Humour again....? ;-)

10:06 pm  
Anonymous Boogaloo Dude said...

Miaow!

I should think twice before giving Pop the bum's rush.

If he can analyse your movements so thoroughly, you may be certain that he has many more surprises in his arsenal.

11:48 am  
Blogger Lady Bracknell said...

~Sighs deeply~

Any more?

11:53 am  
Blogger Dame Honoria Glossop said...

Humble apologies, one really wouldn't expect such cracks from a well-reared young lady. It's scraping the bottom of the barrel.



~snigger~

7:27 pm  
Anonymous Boogaloo Dude said...

Ah Honoria. The woman who put the 'fun' in "fundament"!

I'll just butt out then.

12:51 am  
Blogger Sakura said...

I love your blog Lady Bracknell! The threat of a surprise gift of colonic irrigation made me laugh so hard :) PS colonic irrigation really isn't that bad should the threat become a reality ;)

Anna/Sakura ♥

4:59 pm  
Blogger Lady Bracknell said...

Ah, yes. Well, that's Pop for you: he's evil, but he makes me laugh more consistently and louder than anyone else in the world ever.

But don't tell him that, or his head'll swell...


Oh, and welcome to the blog, btw :-)

5:19 pm  

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