Sunday is sponsored by The Lakes Gin

https://tinyurl.com/y98mkw9b

Sunday is sponsored by The Lakes Gin. I normally Wiron on a Sunday but today we have had an epic battle of wills and I have won, so im celebrating with GIN! I can’t think of a word for ironing with gin but I’m sure that I will.

The Lakes Gin is very nice gin, in the prettiest bottle that you ever did see. I get paid a tiny little commission if you buy some – so we really are sponsored by The Lakes Gin.

I have always dreamed of having a Gin sponsorship deal and I’m now ecstatic.

Dangerous is cleaning my car out. He has never cleaned my car out, EVER!

He has never cleaned his own car out, EVER!

He asked me how he could help out since he went to a stag do last night and I had to take the boys and Trevor to football this morning for two whole bastard hours. When I asked him to clean my car out, he went a very pale, ill colour. He agreed to it and then spent the next two hours trying to wriggle out of it.

To give you an idea on Dangerous’s attitude to cleaning cars out, I once cleaned out his car and realised that the last time that it had been done was approximately two and a half years before when I last did it myself. He doesn’t even take it elsewhere to get it done, he simply waits for me to offer to do it. The only reason that I offer to do it is because I feel physically fucking sick travelling in it.

Last night we had a sleepover for four girls that turned into three girls. The last time that I went up to see them, it was 1.00am. I am knackered

Yesterday we had a party for 17 six year olds. One of the guests got lost and went to another party at the same venue but I rescued him despite looking like a child snatcher.

“Do you see that child there? I think that he is supposed to be at Teds party”

Said the weird interloper trying to see a child’s face who had his back to her and was tucking into some chips at another kids party.

Eventually once I had sulked so much that even Dangerous realised, he said that he’d clean my car out.

I had a face like a slapped arse. I had kept it like that for the whole two hours that he had been trying to get out of cleaning the car out. It took him 10 minutes to clean the car out and I had to tell him that he’d need a hoover and take the cleaning products out to him.

I clean my car out about once a fortnight but it looks like I do it once every bastarding two years as I have three little shits and Trevor the Thug Pug.

The lakes Gin, It’s fucking lush.

Dangerous might be dead when I see my apparently clean car.

Chin chin fashion forward bitches. Up yer bum.

Tonight’s post is sponsored by The Lakes Gin

Tonight’s post is sponsored by The Lakes Gin. It’s sponsored by a very special gin that comes in a very pretty bottle thats reminiscent of bright summer days. I need gin. I really need this delicious gin because I’ve had one of those disastrous days.

My life is just a series of catastrophes, one after the next. I overcome one thing and then find myself at the next hurdle. It’s Teds party on Saturday. I haven’t procured a cake. I have no idea who I have invited to the party but it will be fun remembering as they turn up.

Dangerous is in the doghouse……

Having lived with Dangerous for over seventeen years, I thought that we got along quite well. He does his shit and I do mine. I usually do mine whilst swearing through gritted teeth but I have my list of stuff that I’m accountable for and he has his. I swear that bins, lightbulbs, trimming bushes, and decorating are man things but he suggests not.
Dangerous has always had the alarm clock at his side of the bed and then in the last couple of years his phone. I get up before Dangerous every day but he sets the alarm clock. This is our way.

This is the conversation last night

Totes “I’m going running tomorrow morning with Stacey, please can you put the alarm on for 5.15?”

Dangerous “I’ve already done it!”

Totes “for 5.15, are you sure?”

Dangerous “Yes 5.15 Im sure”

Totes “But I’ve only just told you that I’m running, are you sure that you’ve set it for 5.15?”

Dangerous “I’m sure”

Totes “how did you know?”

Dangerous “I just knew that you were running because I know you so well”

Totes “5.15, the alarm is on for 5.15?”

Dangerous – sounding cross now “Yes I’ve told you, stop asking”

Totes “did you take Trevor for a wee?”

Dangerous “Yes”

Totes “did he do one?”

Dangerous “Yes”

Totes “5.15?”

Dangerous “Fucking go to sleep”

At 3.15 this morning Trevor howled. I tried to ignore him, thinking that he was having a doggy nightmare but he persisted. I could hear the rain and the wind whipping against the window. I elbowed Dangerous.

Totes “did Trevor do a wee when you took him out?”

Dangerous “mmmmmm no it was raining, he wouldn’t go out”

Totes “I’ve got no clothes on, have you?”

Dangerous “no”

Totes “you lying bastard. You’ve got clothes on I can feel them!”

Eventually I got out of bed as everything after lights out is also my jurisdiction and padded downstairs. I looked at the time and I opened the door. I had a pair of knickers on and nothing else. Trevor looked at the wet outside and hesitated, so with tits swinging in the wind and the rain, I took him out and put him under the trampoline to do a wee. I stood getting pissed wet through and freezing cold outside whilst he did the wee. Five long minutes as he snuffles around looking for a nice spot whilst I stand swearing with my arms trying to hide my boobs wearing nothing more than a pair of old M&S knickers. The nudity has nothing to do with seduction. I don’t fancy myself as Marilyn Monroe who would only wear Chanel no5 to sleep in. It’s more that I get night sweats.

I normally wear my Fitbit at night but it was charging. I don’t have my phone at the side of the bed because it lights up throughout the night. I tried to go back to sleep but knowing that I was running in two hours, I struggled to get back to sleep. I would intermittently doze and have a dream that I was out running. At about four thirty according to my body clock which is surprisingly accurate, I woke and daren’t go back to sleep lest I not wake up on time. I laid in the dark telling myself to not get up until the alarm went off so that I wouldn’t wake the little shits or the dog. My running gear was all laid out ready so I only needed to brush my teeth and put it on.

You know what happened don’t you?

The alarm went off and I dived into the bathroom to brush my teeth. I had picked my phone up and looked in horror as I saw 05.45 and three or four messages from Stacey to say that she was sat outside waiting in the car.

I went onto the slimy mossy balcony at the front of our house, again with tits flapping in the wind to see if she was still there, sat patiently waiting in her little white car. There was no sign of the car. I had to hop back to the bedroom as one of my feet was covered in slime from the balcony that a silly architect put at the front of our north facing property.

Alas poor Stacey, having realised that I was not coming had left.

I hopped in, naked with my slimy foot to see my gently snoring husband. I shook him violently

“Wake up you twat!”

“You fucking dogs dick! You fucking said that you’d put the alarm on! You absolute arsehole. Why the fuck did you not check? Why? I said 5.15! I asked you over and over again to check. I’ve been awake all bastarding night. Do you hear me? I’ve been lying awake knowing that it was time to get up but waiting for the fucking alarm to go off because you said that you’d put it on. Poor Stacey got up at 5.00am to go for a run and she sat outside our fucking house waiting for me whilst I laid there awake knowing that it was time to get up but not doing because you said that YOU’D PUT THE MOTHERFUCKING ALARM ON!!!!”

Dangerous “I did put the alarm on”

Totes “Yes you did for thirty minutes later than I needed to get up”

Dangerous “That’s very rude, you can set your own alarm from now on”

Totes “RUDE, RUDE, I’LL GIVE YOU FUCKING RUDE. I’ve been laid wide awake waiting for an alarm to go off. Not ten metres away, my friend was waiting for me. She got up at 5.00am to go for a run with me. She daren’t ring the doorbell because she didn’t want to wake the little shits”

Later Dangerous bemused by the whole incident but seeing that I was not speaking to him Sent Stacey a message on Facebook from my account.
It reads

“Sorry Stacey. It was my fault, Dangerous” but it’s from Alison.

It’s going to be a very large gin and I’m not sharing it with him.

Mmmmmm lovely gin

https://tinyurl.com/y98mkw9b

Coat Gap £70 ish
Leather culottes M&S £29.99 ages ago
Bag TK Maxx

“What are you wearing on t’plane plane Totes?”

“What are you wearing on t’plane plane Totes?”

“Well I’m glad that you asked. I’m wearing a Zara skirt that has shirt sleeves attached to it £25.99 last week, a navy vest H and M that smells of Trevor and red Fly London shoes from www.shoetique.co.uk. Try TOTES15 if you haven’t already.”

“And Totes please tell us, how much you have managed to get in your hand luggage?”

“I’ve got fucking loads, 4 pairs of shoes, 5 handbags, and enough clothes for a fortnight”

“And one last thing Totes, please tell us what’s the first rule of Totes Bitches on tour?”

“Aaaah I’m glad you asked, it’s simple – no photos of anybody in bikinis and anything else goes. Lock up your Spaniard men and get the gin out!”

Dangerous has taken up boxing

Chicken and chorizo paella for dinner. That’s if I can be bothered to get up off my arse and go forth to cook it.

There’s just myself and two boys to feed as Bella has gone off to her friends house and Dangerous has taken up boxing. He started last Monday. I was quite worried that he’d get hurt, not from getting punched but just doing himself an injury as he doesn’t get much exercise.
He can’t just start and do some moderate exercise as he’s all or nothing which I can’t really say much about as we are both quite similar. He had to go to a proper boxing gym with professional boxers. I was rather hopeful that he’d be a bit stiff and actually concede that he was quite out of shape but no such luck. He spent the week showing off just how sprightly he was and how he could definitely raise his arms over his head. I did about 8 weeks of boxing last year and despite me being far fitter than him, I was barely able to lift a fork to my mouth a couple of days after I had partaken in punching bags. I also did wee myself every time that I did the obligatory skipping. I think that Joe who taught the class wondered just why I left the room every time I glanced at a skipping rope. It was because I had to empty my bladder in preparation.

He wouldn’t let me buy him any proper equipment either. He wanted to wear some skanky grey jogger bottoms so as to look like he’d not tried too hard.

I have of course just realised whilst I’m typing that it’s the end of the football season. He just needs something to keep him going for the next 3 or 4 weeks when there won’t be as much football on telly. No doubt there will still be some tedious FA cup shite or something else as equally dreadful.

I remember last year giving a sigh of relief when the football season ended but I needn’t have as there’s something worse even than football. Every year I forget the misery that is golf on telly. Why oh why would anybody want to watch a load of overpaid men in hideous sportswear hitting a small white ball with a metal club? I’d far rather watch them batter each other with the metal club.
I’m still hoping that some brave forward thinking production company will take me up on my idea of competitive shopping for women. It would be far more interesting than golf. We’d have to have weight divisions like in boxing. There could be size 8 and under, 10 to 12, 14 to 16 and so on.

I could be the commentator – a bit like the Mel and Sue of Bake Off. At the end of each round we could all go to the pub and act like hooligans.

I have been limbering up today by having a little potter in to Hale where I popped in to Shoetique. Monday lunch time and it was rammed with well healed ladies from Hale who must be hoping that I haven’t moved in to the area. I can tell you that property prices haven’t been affected by a a 45 minute visit but I’m thinking of holding them to ransom. Property prices would tumble if I were to be seen on the high street more than a couple of times in a week. We all know what happened to Lymm when I lived there….Through the floor!

Jumpsuit Asos
New shoes, Clarks from www.shoetique.co.uk.

If you’d like to get anything, there’s a discount code on my Website www.totes-inappropes.co.uk. There’s a section for discount codes. Genius. This is also a thinly veiled way of getting you to look at my simply brilliant website.

Bugger – I’d better cook something.

”tis the night before the leisure centre extravaganza

”tis the night before the leisure centre extravaganza and orgy of extra cuticular activities.

Tomorrow as always (apart from when I’m hungover to fuck) I will be frantically dashing towards the family changing rooms of the local leisure centre at 8.35 for an 8.30 start with the three little shits moaning and possibly even crying about the utter unfairness of having to swim. As I’m a complete bitch, they will then attend children’s prison where they will be tutored to within an inch of their lives. On the way whilst in the car Oscar will say that he doesn’t want to go to Children’s prison. He hates children’s prison. I will hiss at him that it’s costing mummy a lot of bastarding money so he had better keep his complaints to himself.

“You know that it upsets mummy so when you moan about tuition. It is doing you good. You are now very clever darling. You will become an architect or something else wonderful if you go to child prison. I would far rather spend the money on clothes for myself. It’s making me die a little inside knowing what it costs. You need to learn to be grateful. There’s lots of other little girls and boys who would like to be doing extra maths on a Saturday morning”

Ted and I will have a saunter around Home Bargains and procure endless amounts of kitchen roll and other things that we don’t need but I stockpile in case of the apocalypse whilst forgetting to buy AA batteries and Wonder Web that we have needed for over a week and I have forgotten to buy on numerous occasions. Ted will demand Hot Chocolate from Starbucks. I will buy him a child’s size one and then wonder where the fuck the change is out of the fiver. Ted will lose the Batman lego figure that he demanded I buy him as we walked past the very well placed toy shop. What bastard decided that it would be a good idea to put a toy shop

Slap bang in the middle of the pedestrianised shopping no street in Altrincham? Greedy tosser shopkeepers is what I say. We will pick up Oscar and Bella who despite having moaned about attending prison will not want to leave.

The four of us will run back to the car park and the tyres will smoke as we leave the car park that you can only park in for 2 hours without getting a bastard ticket.

Whilst in the car the little shits will squabble relentlessly about who’s turn it is to play with the fidget spinner. There will be an incident of gouging. I will pull over to the side of the road and warm the little shits what would happen if our car were to plough into a bus because I was distracted by “the fucking fighting”. Two out of the three will cry at the visions I have conjured of missing limbs and decapitation. The other one will make jokes and ask increasingly sick questions about decapitation.

The mood will lighten and no doubt there will be a never ending chorus of the fucking “flying bum” song. All three will say that the others have sworn.

“he said shitter mummy!”

“She said shitter mummy!”

“I blame fucking Scottish Peppa Pig” I will say under my breath.

After a very long time we will arrive home. The car will look like the inside of a bin. The two boys will get out of the car leaving everything inside and all the doors wide open. They will
ring the doorbell of the house. We will all run in leaving the car with the doors of the car open. Bella will change for gymnastics and I will put my running gear on. We will get back in the smelly Nissan that looks like the inside of a bin and smells of sweaty little children’s socks and proceed at break neck speed down the back roads to Knutsford for gymnastics. On the way despite me driving really quite quickly we will be overtaken by a series of Porsches and Audi Q7s. I will swear a lot and Bella will ask inane questions about random things whilst spinning the much coveted fidget spinner.

I will run. Bella will do the most torturous body conditioning that she will try to teach me later on and will laugh when I roll around the floor like a beached whale that ate too many pies.
When we return home Dangerous will tell me what an amazing job he has done by making a sandwich for the three of them and then fuck off to football leaving crumbs scattered across the whole of the downstairs of our home. His mum and dad normally come on a Saturday but they aren’t coming tomorrow.

There will be fights to referee and there will be ironing to do, beds to change and washing to get on the line.

Dangerous will come back from football. He will complain that he has fallen over the fucking Hoover and then get all excited but pretend that he’s not about the Dads night out at the pub.

I will talk to him earnestly about not getting so wasted that he comes home at 3.00am and then spends the next day vomiting as I’m going to a race in Halifax. He will point out that I got wasted last weekend. I will point out that it was his fault that I got twatted last weekend as I was stressed and he was dismissive and rude to me.

Dangerous will leave the house all chipper. The little shits will kick the fuck out of each other. They will end up going to bed later than usual as I will have lost control. There will be much debate about Dr Who as despite Oscar being terrified last time we watched it, he has been able to talk of little else since.I will then turn the telly on but not be able to turn it over as I’m not allowed to use the remote under normal Circumstances.

Dangerous will wake me up for a chat at 2.30 to tell me that he’s not pissed but he’s the best husband in the world. He will then ask if I want a surprise made of sausage whilst beginning to gently snore. The gentle snoring will last for 10 minutes and then begin to gather pace until it reaches a crescendo around an hour later.

That is my Saturday. I can’t fucking wait.

Top £5 H&M
Jeans gap

Finally sandals weather https://www.bellsshoes.co.uk/fly-london-m101 use TOTES15 as a discount code if you buy anything off the website.
Actually maybe use this link https://prf.hn/click/camref:1100lRgZ

I nearly forgot – have you seen my new website? www.totes-inappropes.co.uk
I had nothing to do with it. A genius did it

Oooh it’s a Lagenluxe kind of day

Oooh it’s a Lagenluxe kind of day.

I’m afraid that ”tis discontinued but there’s an almost identical one which you can get £10 off if you use TOTES10 as a discount code on the website.

https://www.lagenluxe.co.uk/…/agenna-stripe-roll-neck-asy…/…

Aaaaaah Bollocks Dangerous has been fucking with my phone again.

The guide to wooing women by Dangerous.

Gentlemen let me share with you my excellent ideas on seduction.

Like me, you may have been with the same lucky woman for some time. You need to look after her. You need to make her feel wanted and womanly. She doesn’t want to feel unattractive and undesirable so show her some attention. Tell her that she looks nice. Why not go the whole hog and let her feel the full force of your love.

Here are some top tips:

In the morning whisper the words that all women long to hear as they are getting dressed…. “Its sausage surprise time”

Don’t worry about how your morning breath smells or anything – just give her a nudge with your proud manhood.

She will be so pleased and eternally grateful that you have made her feel attractive.

If by any chance this doesn’t work and you are left frustrated, never fear for faint heart never won fair maiden. Redouble your efforts. There will be other chances throughout the morning to show her how much you admire and love her.

When she is bent over applying mascara in a mirror, simply rub your big trouser snake against her and say “I’m just going to make your day. The children are upstairs”

If she is playing hard to get as she is coy, she may reject your advances. Time to up your game menfolk.

Why not nudge her into the mirror by physically moving her with you knob whilst shouting “It’s your lucky day woman!”

She may concur that it is indeed a lucky day there was nothing sharp to hand as she wipes the black smudges from her face and removes the mascara wand from your bum hole.

Chin chin from Dangerous on Thirsty Thursday