|Photo © Kevin Mitchell|
It's taken me years to work out who I am, and I'd be sorry if my children had to wait as long as I did. And I'm certain that I'd rather be Embarrassing Mummy than Boring Mummy. Cracking little bloke that he is. He impressed me tonight; so, OK - it wasn't all bad.
|Source: Social Media|
Instead, here is the poem I performed this evening at Frome's Garden Cafe Open-Mic night. I've shared it before, and yes, I see that I am picking on the least important aspect of the sentiment expressed by the Gurning Weasel-faced Bellend*; but I choose to mock one kind of prejudice in order to highlight the idiocy of another kind of prejudice.
My point? Aside from the obvious one? My point, as I told my son this evening, is that the dull will continue to be dull: it's more fun to be friends with people who are ever so slightly batshit. I'm infused with a happy, inclusive, mad love for my fellow beings and I don't need religion or politics to tell me I have it wrong.
I just never, ever thought Eurovision would be showing us the way.
|I'm wearing a Sari. And a Beard. Oh, I bet that Mister Farrage hates me|
*This is my third use of 'Gurning Weasel-faced Bellend' to describe Farage today. I'm really hoping that when people type it into Google, his picture comes up. At the moment, all you get is my arse, which isn't great for me. Help me out here, people