A FEW LAZY NIGHTS IN A BROTHEL (A true tale)

STAIRS

It was on the hallway carpet that she found me,
Stark bollock naked and face down on said floor,
“Are you dead or just method acting as per usual?
You look like you’ve been killed in some ghastly war”

Not that I could hear her what she was saying,
For I was well and truly sparko; out for the count,
And thus it is the true tale of my sad demise,
That by way of this short verse I shall recount

You see I had taken an impressive tumble,
Down a full flight of the very steepest of stairs,
At 4AM Friday morning just gone,
In hindsight what a shocking state of affairs

Had I not fainted on the first floor landing,
I would have been safe and ensconced in a warm bed,
Yet circumstance overtook my best endeavours,
And it as it happened I plummeted instead

As I slowly came round to my senses,
I noted my wife gagging to take a pic,
Of my black and blue butt that was hurting so much,
So she could post it on Facebook double quick

You see she, my spouse whose name is Shirley,
About her has a most mischievous streak,
And the sight of me naked, battered and bruised,
Looking not statuesque, not even ancient Greek
Plainly had amused her in some strange way,
Although later she put that down to the shock,
Of finding her husband of many a long year,
Having taken more than just a bit of a knock

In the end she took pity and decided,
It best she did not take the snap,
So around my left knee that now was bent the wrong way,
A bag of ice cubes she felt it right that she should strap

At the A&E the nurse enquired of me,
As to the red raw carpet burns about my back,
Whether I had had a few lazy nights in a brothel,
Or had the Inquisition whipped me whilst on the rack?

Perhaps my new quack will later discover,
The exact reason that I fainted and blacked out,
As for me just a brief recollection when falling,
Was mouthing, “What the fuck is this all about?
 
Later when an order of some semblance,
Had returned to our humble abode,
Over strong coffee we tried to determine,
How I had come almost to the end life’s rich road

“You are lucky you didn’t break your neck you know,
Or end up bed ridden and paralysed,
For a minute I thought I’d lost you Michael Steeden,
For a minute I was so very terrified” 

It is said that love works in mysterious ways,
And some they insist that love is all,
Yet the love of ‘Nurse’ Shirley has been the best thing,
To have come out of my most wretched fall!

MIND SHE DID POST THESE WORDS ON FACEBOOK! ‘Mike passed out and fell down the stairs (it’s ok the new carpet was not destroyed). He’s now getting on my tits as he’s bruised from head to toe and covered in carpet burns. The accident happened at 4am so he only wore his modesty at the time. If he mentions his aches and crakes one more time I shall be forced to slaughter him. Yrs Nurse Blamey’

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57 thoughts on “A FEW LAZY NIGHTS IN A BROTHEL (A true tale)

    • That I am lucky I cannot deny. If I’d managed to go head first…Goodnight Vienna methinks. Still mustn’t grumble she’s doubling as nurse, chef, waitress, chamber maid although I think I detect a current drop in her compassion levels…oh Shirl can’t you see I’m typing and by the way my coffee has gone cold…make another one would you…and oh yes I know it’s raining cats and dogs out there but I rather fancy a freshly picked apple from the tree at the top of the garden…and Shirl would you mind…THUD!

    • If I understand him – the doc that is – correctly…he opened by saving what I have is quite in vogue to which I for some reason replied, ‘No I’m in Dover…never even heard of a place called Vogue’…anyway he thinks I suffer from Micturition syncope. Of course I had to advise the poor chap that I have never had to suffer Mike Turition-Syncope as I didn’t even know him! Later during my visit I detected that he was holding back a laugh (and failing badly I might add) when he checked out the bruising about my butt whereas my dear wife upon checking out said posterior earlier today merely said, ‘Jesus Christ’ and that’s her, an atheist like me. You will understand I’ve had a very confusing day young Marissa.

      • Oh my goodness…had to look up Micturition Syncope and after I liked his Facebook page I realized what a god awful mess you may be in for, and that’s me, an atheist like you.

    • It seems from what the doc said that Micturition Syncope isn’t that serious if one is aware one has it and avoids stairs and cliff edges etc.! Shirley is in the process of putting a new ensuite in my room (annoying really as mine is the only bedroom in the house without one)…that should do the trick. Today I shall give up on whinging about it any more though – notwithstanding the fact that today is by far and away the worst day yet as every bit of me hurts…can’t even hold my old dad’s walking stick to get about on! Worse still Shirley suggested I give up on my tight jeans for the time being as they hurt the legs even more and wear tracksuit bottoms instead! Tracksuit bottoms…wouldn’t be seen dead in such things…we are arguing the point even as I write!

      • Oh goodness, so this is just the cuts and bruises you got from the fall still hurting you? That’s a shame. I try to avoid track suits at all costs as well but what is one to do?

    • Managed to avoid the tracksuit bottoms thank goodness. She is hiding the car keys until satisfied I’m not going to black out again (even though the doc says it’s OK to drive). Had a whole host of new injuries develop yesterday but today the world is looking a tad better…certainly an old fool should avoid the stairs when entering a parallel universe methinks. My little grandson sent me a card with a pic he drew of me falling down the stairs which rather lifted my spirits…also in your punk days you would have paid a fortune o have makeup that matched the multi colours of the now massive bruise on my butt! Shirley is I think rather jealous of said colours.

      • Well I did have one lipstick that was called Butt Bruise Blue…so really you may be on to something here. It could all be a blessing in disguise for you to branch out into a cosmetic line for punks and goths alike.

      • So cute that you are still catering to the whims of your child bride. I actually just Googled Butt Bruise Blue lipstick and came up with a rather lame tutorial of how to create a bruise using makeup. I somehow doubt you will be needing that but if you are truly interested in making your babe look like the bride of Frankenstein, I would try Urban Decay. For your part, I think you are well on your way.

      • Urban Decay! Well ‘Decaying’ I certainly am…I usually do 12k a day on the cross trainer or 4 miles on the treadmill…a week gone now and fitness levels fade…did nick the car keys yesterday though…and while out and about (with my Nordic walking stick displaying Viking emblems I might add) purchased a shower head with multi coloured LED lights that change with the water pressure…brilliant thing it is! Also had my hair cut quite short…odd decision that!

      • Hmmmm….odd indeed. Do you like it?

        Yes, I’ve no doubt you’ll be fit enough to tackle the cross trainer to prevent any level of urban decay other than that made to your mind.

      • Philosophy no less…like it. I fear I am getting old and tired…the fall has taken the wind out of my sails somewhat…the pic G took of me at Dover Harbour today with the walking stick I’m presently using made me cringe hence it isn’t on Facebook!

      • Oh yes, that would explain the lack of you in any of those pics. I quite liked them by the way. My regards to Shirl and her funky stockings and patent leather Docs.

    • Cheers Sir…must admit I am bolloxed presently. Possibly the finest accident I have ever had…I stress I am not wallowing in self pity yet by fuck it hurts! I only wish I was pissed at the time of the event because I probably would never have noticed! The very fact my atheist missus took a peek at my bruised arse this very morn and uttered the words, ‘Jesus Christ’ says it all.

  1. What an absolute whoopee daisy. Glad your not dead. Hope you find much pleasure in morphing bruise imagery 🙂

    • I must admit Jessie Martinovic (what an absolutely splendid name by the way) I am myself a bit chuffed about not being dead although presently I feel death wouldn’t hurt so much. My wife constantly has her IPad at the ready to catch me unaware and take snaps of me for posterity. I did catch one she got of my backside which had a jolly fine surreal touch to it…a cocktail of black, blue, red and orange with just a hint of lemon shaped in the manner of a map of the Norwegian Fjords no less. Best of good fortune to you, Mike

      • I must admit Mike Steeden (not bad name yourself) I am laughing immensely. You should snap those bruise maps of the Norwegian Fjords and use them for this years Christmas cards, quite a personal touch for 2015.

        Best of good fortune to you also

    • I wish it were a deception. Today I can’t even hold my old dad’s walking stick. Today I am beginning to understand a little about how those who suffer all the time must feel…it is good to know these things yet by Christ I hurt all over.

  2. Carpet burns?! Really? I’m not sure I believe that’s what really happened. What were you doing awake at 4am?
    I’m only kidding. Glad you’re still around though black and blue all over. Mrs Shirley comes to the rescue!

  3. Ah, you are married to a true Florence Nightingale. She takes such good care to commemorate your injuries for your doctors to see later, and she makes sure you aren’t hiding anything with any silly clothes so as to mask the severity when the doc diagnoses you.
    (I hope your diagnosis was an easy fix and that you’re feeling much better now, my friend! You scared me! <3)

  4. Ahhh, another tequila fan . I too find fainting and tumbling down a flight of stairs makes for a fine distraction. It really smarts for awhile but lying about being pampered beats the tongue lashing and detox “-). “”

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