Today Nan came over and cooked us Sunday dinner. I love it when Nan cooks dinner ’cos she makes everything, even stuff like broccoli, taste amazing and everything is hot at the same time and the chicken is crispy on the outside and white and soft in the middle and the gravy just tastes like the best thing in the world ever ’cos she makes it in a well-complicated way with all the stuff from the chicken pan and this brown floury powder. She doesn’t just pour water into a mix like Mum. If I had to die tomorrow and I was allowed one last meal I would ask for some of Nan’s roast potatoes and her gravy. Straight up, I would.
Mum gets a bit narked if I say stuff like this though, so I have to make a big point of saying I like her waffles, SpaghettiO’s, and sausage dinners too. Wesley came round for Sunday dinner today ’cos his mum’s in Blackpool at a Motown Tribute Festival this weekend so he was on his own and was planning to have Chef Boyardee. Wesley loves my nan’s roast potatoes. In fact Wesley loves Nan too and he even calls her Nan which she really likes. Wesley must have been extra hungry today ’cos he ate all of his dinner like one of them gorillas out of Planet of the Apes. I wish he would eat more like a human and try not to get gravy all over his face.
After the food, Wesley tried to get me to come out with him for a drive then go back to his house for a bit seeing as his mum’s not back till tomorrow and we could have some “privacy.” I knew what he was getting at so I said no I needed to read King Lear. Wesley looked a bit like he might get the hump, then he chilled out and said no bother.
Wesley went over to his mate Bezzie Kelleher’s house instead. Bezzie used to go out with Carrie about a year and half ago, but they split up on account of his being a proper bell-end. Wesley says Bezzie’s been laying some more tracks down and wonders whether Wesley fancies spitting some lyrics. Bezzie wants to get their “rhyme syndicate” the G-Mayes Detonators back together and do some collaborations with some of the other crews they know like the Crowley Park Brapboys and the Rinse and Go Fraternity. I said, “Yeah, that sounds like a good idea. Bezzie is proper talented,” and made a face like I totally meant it.
I started reading King Lear. As far as I can see it’s about this old geezer who is a king who feels knackered so reckons he might pack in his job, so right away all his daughters start being well shady trying to work out ways to nick all his money. It’s a bit like that time old Bob down at number 47 died sudden in the night and by about 11AM his garden was full of all his sons proper fighting over his jar of loose coins and his gold sovereign ring and his Status Quo records.
Money does weird things to folks. That’s one good thing about having none.