Dads Protest Against the National Lottery
About 10 years ago my loveable and brilliant Dad was having trouble at work, the stress of being an account in a small town took its toll and he entered into a stage of bipolar depression. During which he did a lot of tragically hilarious shit, it was during this period that my story begins……..

I was sat in my bedroom about 2am when I got hungry, I walked downstairs into the kitchen and started to make some Super Noodles. The Noodles were boiled, the flavour was added….. when my Dad entered. He was in his dressing gown and looked kind of drunk but had a slightly menacing look in his eye.

‘Hello Kenneth, making Noodles are we?’

‘Errr…Yes Dad’

At was at this point he marched up to condiment cupboard, opened the doors, pulled out the nearest bottle, walked over to the Noodle pan and began to pour the entire contents in, after placing the empty bottle in the sink he came back, grabbed another bottle and repeated the process about four times.

I was more worried about the increasingly full Noodle pan, than my Fathers erratic behaviour. Then came the Schwartz spices, Oxo gravy granules, M&S chutneys, and Colemans mustard…….An avalanche of household names pouring into my Super Noodles……..

Just as the pan was beginning to resemble some kind of White Middle Class Gumbo, my Dad grabbed it and poured the entire contents onto the kitchen table, stubbed his cigarette out into it, then poured an entire ash tray over the top. He left the kitchen, leaving me in a mixture of mild amusement, concern and confusion, staring at the slowly congealing steaming mass of what was once my midnight snack.

Before I had chance to start cleaning it up, he returned with a wad of scratch cards from the Mail on Sunday, which he then proceeded to tear up and decorate the Noodle Pile with, he victoriously stubbed out one last cigarette into the pile and declared.

‘This is my protest against The National Lottery!

It was at this point I decided I better get my Mum.

‘Mum, Dads acting abit weird, he’s just poured noodles all over the kitchen table and started shouting about the National Lottery…..’

As my Mother got out of bed she uttered the immortal words

‘On no not again!’

I escorted my Mum down to the kitchen where my Dad was just lent on the kitchen side smoking, admiring his work, she took him by the hand and led him back upstairs. Just before the kitchen door shut my Dad leant round the side and shouted.

‘You told on me you bastard!!! I’ll fucking get you!!’

Slightly freaked out and still hungry, I was left with the task of cleaning up the Noodle Placenta……
(kendohmassif Fritzl Burger Monkey Chode, Sat 27 Nov 2010, 1:33, 2 replies)

Random Madness..
You gotta love it.
*Clicks*
(danniekavanagh did nothing constructive on, Sat 27 Nov 2010, 11:30, closed)

Click.
My dad used to end up in the local shop in his dressing gown buying boxes of Roses (the chocolates) whenever he was having a moment.
( Evil Bastardo, Tue 30 Nov 2010, 15:26, closed)