While out for an Indian with my family and wife tonight, they reminded me of a stalker l once had. Funny how you forget stuff that is so insane. This girl came up from Eastborne and stayed with my mother on the pretext of looking for a job oop north. l used to sell magazines, and she had met me and written to me, nothing wrong with that, and although l used to have a lot of sex in those days with girls who had met me doing that sort of stuff, l never had sex with her. When she said she wanted to come to Yorkshire and find work, my mother had a spare room and everything appeared to be fine. We met up, l introduced her to my mother, she went out with my friends and my soon to be wife, she wrote to her sister and said she loved me and we were together, she told my soon to be wife that she loved me and would do anything for me, and then denied it the next day (although l heard it) - start sounding a bit weird or what? The crux of it was she also pretended to be a top hair stylist and after a lot (and a lot more) of persuasion, she pretended to cut my brothers hair, in my mums kitchen, with everyone watching. She spent about half an hour snipping away, then stormed out of the kitchen, leaving no hair on the floor. We all fell about and my brother thought it was a crap hair cut. When he looked in the mirror and discovered his hair was exactly the same as before, he was lost for words. We then looked in her bedroom and discovered letters from her sister, ripped up in the bin. Putting them together, we read that her sister was congratulating her for being happy and with me, glad that our (so called) relationship had worked out. l telephoned her sister to say that l was concerned and it was all lies. She said she would try to speak to her, same as l said l would. Anyway, next thing we all know, she had buggered off. Bastard. l could have done anything with that woman. Also, l can say say stuff like that because l work with people with mental problems, so there. l may have had other stalkers, l may have them now, perhaps they are just too clever to be spotted. Maybe my wife is a stalker claiming her ultimate prize (the poor sod). Who knows, l have certainly had girls telling my wife they used to go out with me, when they never. Must be the aftershave. People are mad, which is great for me, as it keeps me in a job. Toodle pip
Looking at some old Bootle primary school pictures, (see http://www.bootlehistory.com/ ) for more, somebody in the photo at the top looks familier. Check out the small lad on the right hand side in a snazzy waistcoat (with D on it). It's non other than Cheggers himself, Keith Cheggwin.
