Categories
humour

GoFundMe Replaces The Bank Of Mum And Dad

When Mum and Dad said no to buying that expensive pair of trainers ‘everyone at school’ had, one young man took matters into his own hands.

“I was really surprised when my eldest started buying the local paper, I didn’t even know he could read, to be honest.” His mum told us.

“I was relieved at first, stopped him bleedin’ naggin’ me for stuff all the time, his head was always in a paper of some kind.”

Terry, 17, from Kent, was the first in the family to show any real initiative. He scoured the news items and obituaries for credible sources, enabling him to set up fundraising pages with countless sob stories.

“I saw on my Facebook feed that someone was asking for money cos someone couldn’t pay for the funeral of their dog. I couldn’t believe how many people clicked on the sad face and started giving money.”

Terry began to make up stories to go with the things he read in the news. He would say they were friends or relatives, and the money started flooding in.

“I had to set up loads of new accounts, at one point I think I had about 30.”

When we asked him if he felt bad about tricking people like this, he told us;

“Nah. They give what they can afford innit. I learned about it in school, it’s Communism.”

Terry’s parents are so proud of his entrepreneurial skills, and are thrilled with the caravan he bought them in Leysdown-on-Sea.

His mum’s final words? “ If there were more kids like Terry the world would be a better place. I have ten more like him to pay their own way from now on.”

 

Lisa Ives for Pf Magazine


 

Categories
TV & Film

Goodbye Friends ~ Million Dollar Listing: New York

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As a nation, we’re no strangers to binge-watching telly shows. You know, sat there until 2 in the morning on a school night, cramming your senses with the latest must-see tv, so when Joan from accounts asks you if you have seen the latest season of ‘Rich Hamsters of L.A’ and you say..’no’, she doesn’t look at you as if you have just farted on her weight watchers chicken wrap.

So, prepare to have your eyes dehydrated, your mind boggled, and your waistline expanded. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you;

Million Dollar Listing: New York

Two and a half, larger than life American people who are realtors – estate agents to you and me – bitch, backstab and fight their way to the top of the New-York-property-so-expensive-it-will-make-you-angry tree.

It has all the classic reality TV ingredients. We have an abundance of talking heads, subtitles for people who don’t understand American, and beautifully edited/orchestrated ‘real’ conversations. It’s so stunningly put together, you will laugh your nipples off.

It also has touching moments of their real lives to prove they’re not actors. Swoon as one of them shuts down Times Square to propose to his girlfriend. Gasp as one of them asks his best friend to be an egg donor for the child he and his husband so desperately want, and cry as one of them breaks down under the pressure and turns to his life coach for guidance.

You don’t even need an attention span, or a brain at all, as at the beginning of every episode you get a complete recap in under 30 seconds. Those with an attention span of a Rivita slice can now rejoice.

Set against the stunning backdrop of New York City, our brokers negotiate astronomical deals and represent some of the most onerous characters to ever breathe air. Some of them are so hateful and wedged up their own posteriors that they demand that you swear at your television and scare your dog in the process.

So, who are your new friends? Well, let me tell you.

Ryan Serhant

An American poster boy. Blonde, cocky and with teeth whiter than dandruff. This guy is the best of the best, and he ain’t coy in telling you this, again, and again and again. This chap has as much charm as a Tory backbencher and even less likability. But this is panto in the purest form, and we all like a bastard.

Fredrick Eklund

This strapping Swede is all show. He’s loud, opinionated, over-confident and beyond annoying. This man is very much Marmite, there is no middle ground. He’s a condescending, arrogant, selfish twit and then some. He’s also more camp than a night out in Soho.

Luis Ortiz

This pint-sized Puerto Rican is an all- grinning, effervescent bundle of positivity and he will make you want to vom. He’s very much playing catch up with the other two as he handles what you might consider the lower end of the market (10 million townhouse anyone?). His slicked back hair is almost as smooth as his lines, but he remains distant with the ladies and comes across as someone rooted somewhere between straight and gay. This is fine, as the man is about as appealing as a cheese toasty washed down with sick.

So, these are our champions of big, brash American real estate nonsense. You will love them, you will hate them, and you will thank me for it.

You’re welcome.

Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee *

 

*Watch the show and this becomes painfully apparent. I mean, painfully.

Jason Moody for Pf Magazine


 

Categories
Comedy Monologues

The Monologues of Clementine Close~Verity

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Verity

Here, take a look at these handcuffs, I’ve just bought them from that military shop up Camden way. They’re stronger than the ones I’ve been using; reinforced steel. The others were starting to bend slightly from where Anton had tried to pull the chain out of the wall.

I did tell him that there was no point trying to break-free, see that wall back in the house is made from Iranian Concrete, I researched it specially, it’s the strongest in the world; quartz infused it is.

I’ve got to be honest, he hasn’t taken to being cooped up indoors, which has really surprised me, cus I thought he’d enjoy being out of the public gaze for a bit. Kicked up a right fuss he has.

Course, I hadn’t intended to gag him, well it’s a bit unpleasant, isn’t it? But he was screaming like a banshee, so I had no choice really; granted the basement has no windows but you can never be too careful.

Leaving him to go off to work is always a bit of wrench. He pleads, in his own unique muffled fashion and I like to think it’s because he doesn’t really want me to go, which is nice. But as I told him, ‘needs must, cus the bills won’t pay themselves, will they?’

Besides, I know they’d only try and contact me from the office if I didn’t turn up and I can’t really take the chance of drawing attention to myself. They’re keeping their eyes on all of us see, since he disappeared I mean.

It’s all been a tad traumatic cus we were all interviewed, but thankfully they didn’t seem too interested in me.

In his more sedate moments I like to remove the gag, it gives us a chance to have a proper chat, although to be fair, it’s me that does most of the talking.

He has tried to get me to untie him as well, but as I tried to explain, it’s not that I’m not trusting, in fact, I’d say that’s one of my failings, it’s just I’m not sure I’m ready to give him that freedom just yet – there’s things that need seeing to first.

I wouldn’t dream of leaving him hungry though, so I did him a lovely Lasagne before I left for work today, put it on the tray next to the bed with the pot of Jelly and the bottled water.

I felt a bit guilty about the plastic spoon cus it’s not the easiest of utensils to crack through my cheesy topping and I’ve become extremely conscious of my plastic use, since that program on the TV, but I was a bit concerned he might hurt himself with a metal one.

It must be nigh on five years I’ve been working for the TV station now. Straight out of university it was. I know working on reception isn’t what I’d hoped for, especially as I got a first in media studies and really wanted to be involved in production, but it’s a foot in the door as they say.

Anton was particularly friendly from the off. One of the girls who works on reception with me, Jane, said she thought he had his eye on me right from the start.

Oh, I know the tabloids will have you believe that he’s one for the ladies, but there was definitely a spark between us, holding my gaze just that little bit longer when I handed over his lanyard, that sort of thing.

He once told me that I had eyes like Sophia Loren and that my smile brightened up his day and he never said that to Jane.

Occasionally, as part of my job, I get asked to ferry the stars over to the studio. There’s a company car parked out back and Jane and I take it in turns.

I used to love those intimate moments Anton and I had. Do you know, it got to the point where he started calling me by my name, even asking for me in particular. He used to tell me about his posh dinners out with people from the show. I loved hearing all about it. He even started divulging more intimate stuff about his family and said what a god-send I was when the press dug out those shots of his wife and her new lover, naked and tied to a combine harvester by a disgruntled farmer who found them frolicking amongst his sweetcorn. We’d become really close.

When he broke down in tears and asked me to pull over in that layby on the country road to that shindig he was going to, I could tell how distraught he was. He cried into my hair. He was beside himself with grief and it took me an age to calm him down by rubbing his temples and massaging his neck. I’d been on a course whilst I was at Uni and I think I’d got the knack because he seemed to relax his body into mine and I could hear his breathing settle.

I wasn’t sure what to do when he put his hand on my knee cus at first, I didn’t know if it had just flopped there in his relaxed state, but then when he began to run his fingers along my thigh, hiking up my skirt I started to feel all unnecessary.

This was Anton Delaney, Day-time TV Anton Delaney. The same Anton Delaney that had interviewed Barack Obama by satellite and had his back waxed with one of the Hairy Bikers on live TV.   

I tried to stop him subtly at first, laugh it off if you know what I mean, but he was resolute, aggressive even as I tried to push him off and ask him to stop. He seemed determined he was going to add me to his list of misdemeanours and I could do little to stop him.

It all happened so quickly, so quickly in fact, that I lost my scrunchy, then he thanked me for being so understanding.

He asked for Jane to ferry him about after that.

I probably wouldn’t have had a chance to speak to him again properly if it hadn’t been for that spike strip I bought online. It punctured the tyres on his Merc really efficiently as he drove out on the same road where he’d…

I knew he was driving himself out that way because Jane came down with that weird food poisoning. Everyone thought I had it too cus I took the same day off.

It wasn’t so easy to get the chloroform. Nor was it easy to sneak in the back of his car whilst he got out to check what had happened, but I managed. He struggled a bit at first but the ethyl-alcohol worked much quicker than I’d imagined.

Getting him into the boot of my Mondeo, wasn’t without some difficulty but I popped him in a shopping trolley when I got to mum and dad’s old cottage, which made the short journey to the basement fairly straight-forward.

His room was all prepared, with his favourite magazines and the original handcuffs with the reinforced chain. I’d even put a tv in there so he could watch the ‘stand-in’ they used on his show, although to be fair, the reception wasn’t up to much.

Three days, Dan Sergeant has been presenting Anton’s show now. He’s fit in a treat. Course Anton didn’t seem too happy when I told him, but you have to have a thick skin in this game.

Talking of thick skin, I think he’ll appreciate these new handcuffs cus they’re a bit smoother on the wrist. They’ve got like a padded weave on the inner side, for comfort. I’ve got him a new memory-foam pillow as well cus he says the other one is giving him neck-ache. I don’t know how much use he’ll get out of it mind. What’s more, I can’t imagine what he’ll think when he sees this new chainsaw. It says here, it will cut through branches up to an inch in girth. It wasn’t the most expensive but I’m on a bit of a budget. Still, it should be more than ample to saw through what I’ve got in mind.   

Jules Garvey Welch for Pf Magazine


 

Categories
Online Dating

If Google Translate Took Over Your Online Profile – Dating Over The Age Of 50

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Disclaimer

I am writing this for a friend; Any Resemblance to Actual Persons, Living or Dead, is Purely Coincidental

A friend of mine who has recently found herself single after 15 years of marriage is ready to take the next step

For the sake of argument let’s call heranything other than her real name, Liz. Liz is 51 and filled with a truckload of insecurity; this is what her profile would look like if she was brave enough to be honest. After all, they all find out in the end.

 

You?

I am a recently separated 51-year-old mum of 6, almost grown up, children. Yes, I know, I clearly started young; if you really want to know I’ll be a bloody grandma next month.

Physical Characteristics

I have bloodshot green eyes, wiry bleached blonde hair, a saggy tummy and boobs down to my knees, I did a lot of breastfeeding. I’m 5ft 8 inches tall but shrinking a bit now, mainly due to curvature of the spine that in the wrong clothes makes me look like the Hunchback of Notre Dame. My wiry hair is starting to come out in handfuls due to my underactive thyroid, but if I do a Trumpian comb-over you’d hardly notice.

Greatest Achievements

Getting through the day without having a number 1 or number 2 accident. This is due to my irritable bowel, and inability to sneeze without letting out a little wee as no-one actually explained what pelvic floor exercises really are. Lying on the floor and raising my legs didn’t cut the mustard. I do have tablets to hold off on the number 2’s but I don’t always remember to take them. I would consider remembering to take my tablets quite an achievement as well, the memory is going a little, I know, too young!

Biggest Fears

See Above

Lifestyle

Since my separation, after the initial shock and clothes shredding spree, I have learned to live my life alone. I threw all the razors in the bin, I am a liberated European woman with more hair under my arms and legs than anywhere else on my body. And I mean anywhere. I enjoy going to bed early and not having to put up with my beer-bellied, unshaven, whisky breathed hubby pawing me. I’m peri-menopausal so not really interested in a physical relationship right now. Not to mention the enormous amount of effort it takes to clench my buttocks (just in case) and fake an orgasm; my COPD can be exacerbated by that kind of fast breathing. I have two different types of inhaler for that, but it’s just not worth the risk, you know.

Career and Financial Solvency

Thanks to my ‘children’ not being ‘children’ I’m not entitled to any maintenance. My lovely little job I did for pin money has now become my main source of income. I am really poor so DSS need not apply.

Looking For?

I’m looking for a man between 35 and 45 with a busy career that keeps him away from home for long periods of time. Tall, dark and handsome, big heart and even bigger wallet. Someone I can flirt with over the phone and on messenger but not have to see too often, The odd meal out, but home to our own abodes. Generous to a fault. Someone who wants to make sure I live comfortably but wants nothing in return.

Whoever said that 50 is the new 40 was having a laugh

Any Takers?

 

Lisa Ives for Pfmagazine


 

Categories
wellness

A Personal Message From Carol Coombes O.B.E ~ Active Wellness

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Following on from our last piece about Carol Coombes O.B.E and Cracking Wellness (Read Here) we are delighted to share this personal message she has written for all her supporters and friends.

 

“Last long post re ‘Wellness’ stuff: As ever, I’d commit fully or give it a swerve if I were you..

This is (hopefully) my last long post on this, for a great reason: Cracking Wellness has got to an exciting stage, and I’m handing it over, delightedly, to The Active Wellbeing Society as of now. They’re the organisation I most trust in the world with this. They’ll guarantee it stays for the widest public benefit rather than private gain, as our data is such a huge resource, and we should all benefit from it.

They’re going to need a few weeks to pull together all the various bits, to use everything done so far in the best way, and in the Autumn they’ll launch the next phase, which might be as I pictured, it might be better, but it definitely won’t be worse. They’re great communicators: as soon as the next bit is ready you’ll know, I’m delighted with this.

I’ve taken it from an idea, to landing it with the ideal people/ place for it to thrive, which is what I do best. I’m rubbish at the rest, so I’m off this as of now, as planned. But a week early, due to MRI results.

Pf Magazine, you lot are bloody brilliant. You’ve helped turn an untested idea into a great and dynamic ‘Wellness’ movement that will make a real difference (* an idea based on a hope to slow down the growth from where we are now, of 1 in 2 having cancer; from the dawning that we don’t have as much information as we need; what we do have is either not used well, or is based on information that gives only a limited picture, as we’re not asking all the right questions).

Our poor bloody NHS. Dealing with 1 in 2 having cancer alone, forgetting every other need (which we can’t) Hands tied, bank accounts frozen, and blindfolded. Screw that. 1 in 2 will get cancer. (Source: Cancer Research UK) Let that sink in, for a sec. 1 in 2. I’m pretty much in the majority. And if I’m not now, I soon will be. And it’s rough here. I’m used to being in a Minority and having it rough. The majority shouldn’t have it rough. That’s not the sign of something going well. We could do so much better for everyone.

Reading the cancer sites makes me weep, with the intelligence there that’s not used and the same frustrations raised everywhere. . It’s the same everywhere. In every health conversation, wellness, housing, education.. the experts are those living it, not those managing it, often. We have amazing resources available in this day and age. The cleverest brains in the world can now talk to each other easily. We have an economy that really needs us all to be well. And we all have experiences to share.

I was a strengths-based coach in my last role. My brain automatically sees the good stuff that can happen.. here, that’s learning about and sharing what’s good, and heading towards great, NOT just measuring illness/what goes wrong, as we do now. Once the idea was there, we needed a great mechanism for that. And we’ve done it. We’ve created one that’s really going to make a difference, with the organisation that is known globally for punching above their weight, and who are known for leading with the NEXT thing, not the best thing, in Wellbeing. They’re world leaders, they’re from Brum, and they make it easy for us, to help us to make informed Wellbeing decisions ourselves, and participate equally. I’m beyond buzzing to have landed it there. . Seriously. Watch their space. They’re ace. Info@theaws.org

In other news: We’re all well and happy, hope you are. ‘My’ youngest baby just flew over the Grand Canyon in a helicopter. Life is good and nuts, as ever I’ve got my results in a few hours, and whatever they are I’m signing off Cracking Wellness now as importantly, I’ve signed off posting my health stuff on here. (There is a God, I hear you say) I’ll still be on here, and in dyingtoknow about cancer and wellness, and Banned Aid: weed the world groups when online (the kids, inc sons in law, Mal or my other closest, will kill me before anything else does, if I don’t keep up with what you’re all up to: I’d be vile )

My worlds got a bit small lately, and I’m mental, so I don’t know how they’ve coped so beautifully, with laughter, as they do. Cheers, Tribe xxx

So: I’ve never minded having uncomfortable, taboo conversations..death, illness, wellness, your Nan..whatever.. bring them on: now Cracking Wellness has landed, I’ll be posting personal updates in the dyingtoknow about cancer and wellness group only, not here. That’s the place. We all do it there, and it’s great. I’m older than Santa, and personal stuff is personal (and boring as hell to those who’re not interested ) If you want the updates, please join there, as normal service resumes again here, as of NOW.

I can’t tag all of you who’ve helped get Cracking Wellness to here. I’m Mental, Menopausal and Highly Medicated, and I’m scared I’ll miss one of you. Those of you who’ve added to energy levels, shared wellness tips, sent love, been on walks, shared the info, invited others to join in, etc etc.. you know, I hope, you’re well loved for it. Please tag yourselves, and Big Up yourselves, as my Beautiful Man would say . Really, tag yourselves, and take your bloody credit. (‘don’t be so humble..you’re not that great’ ) Now tag. I’ll be grateful.

We’re celebrating. We’ve done it. We bloody rock. I’m having a break from here for a few days and will be on here way less from now on anyway. I bloody love info (and being told it well, and clearly) and I know we will be, from the MRI, later. . We’re excited, nervous, ready to know stuff, and get our heads around it all as a family. The next Mischief For The Masses will no doubt appear soon at ( and anyone else who fancies it) Facebook page. Add any mischief you like, I’ll see it when I get there Big love Xx”

Carol Coombes O.B.E

Twitter

A Message From The Editor

Sending you lots of love today Carol, to you and your family. We are so excited that you have pulled this off, and proud to have played any small part in helping you in your quest. Thank you for trusting us with your baby. All our thoughts and prayers are with you.

Lisa

#PfMagazine