Blousembrey Brings Home The Bacon

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Memoir  |  House: Booksie Classic
Another Blousembrey memoir.

Submitted: March 23, 2010

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Submitted: March 23, 2010



Blousembrey Brings Home The Bacon

In our teenage years, Blousembrey tried his hand at a few different jobs, none of which ever really lasting that long.

Whenever young Blousembrey found himself in gainful employment, he would walk about the house with his head held aloft oozing pride and arrogance, (this was particularly exaggerated when myself and my other brother Francis were not in work!).

It seemed he actually thought being in employment while we were not gave him diplomatic immunity and special privileges that should most certainly not be afforded us lazy layabouts. It was as though he expected he should be awarded the keys to the city or some such award of equal prestige.

He would glide, not walk, through the house with a really pompous look on his face, eyebrows raised wearing a permanent sneer like that of Jeremy Paxman, his face raised ever so slightly and tilted, usually away from you, whichever side of the room you were on.

Blousembrey was once working at the local RAF camp in the canteen. They were teaching him the fineries of 'Silver service' for he was a waiter. (though he would point out with real disdain that he was a 'Silver Service waiter!' if ever chided for it). His sense of regal superiority was further reinforced as a result of him being paid monthly as this added more heft to his wad. He would enjoy counting it out time and time again in front of his impoverished siblings before handing over his keep to our Mother like a Pharisee placing gold coins in Gods temple for all to see.

On occasion when he was heading out to the local he would allow one of us minions to accompany him. I'm sure it must have been because he may have pissed someone off and knew we we would have his back. Otherwise it was inexplicable, as he would usually shake off any pretenders to his wedge using admirable foresight and counter surveillance skills. In this he was a master. An empty nest would greet the hopeful bludger who looked in on blousembrey's boudoir on a weekend pay day morning. He could get up, get ready and go down the stairs quieter than the R Whites Lemonade Drinker!

Well one day Blousembrey was riding into work obviously distracted by something or other as he rode straight into the camp vehicle entry restriction barrier (which was down at the time) and was stopped dead as his bike continued on it's way completely unmanned. Myself and our Francis found this hilarious as we imagined Blousembrey picking himself up off of his bruised arse pretending not to be at all hurt.

Soon Blousembrey began to bring his work home. Chiding us on our poor table manners and laying the table as if Royalty were to be in attendance. Often we would only be having egg and chips!

Dear Blousembrey.....

I remember on one occasion poor Blouse was sick and had been vomiting for most of the day. Our mother decided to dispatch Francis to the local chip shop for fish and chips (not a common event and one we certainly regarded as a treat) for tea. Blousembrey was beside himself! Between spewing episodes he made it clear to our mother that he was to have his fish and chips just as soon as he was well again. Though the very thought of food made him feel sick, he was determined not to miss out. “I'm blllaaaaarghhh, slop blllaaaaargh having mine when I'm feeling bllllaaaaaargh slop splash better! Blousembrey was a champion for Equality. Especially when it came to ensuring he received equal treatment!

Sometimes he would buy himself a nice juicy steak and make great play of cooking it under our slavering noses before proceeding to eat it very slowly and methodically to maximise his enjoyment, clearly buzzing off his higher status and our misfortune.

Blousembrey eventually got fired from his job (i cant quite remember why?) and he was instantly returned to a mere equal, no longer bringing home the bacon, he was instantly bereft of the perks and thus the higher status his gainful employment had once allowed him to indulge in.

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