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In addition to the **** next door and his chain-smoking, beer-swilling, beaten-up-regularly 8-month-pregnant girlfriend…

I saw the most stereotypical chav family in Morrisons on Saturday. Horrible they were. Evil, even. Admittedly quite old for chavs, mind. Sort of mature chavs, if that isn’t a contradiction in terms.

Mum was a complete minger. Only a blind man with no sensation in his fingers, a complete lack of sense of smell and a guide dog with a really cruel sense of humour would have gone there. Lumpy, craggy, wrinkled, smelly… urgh.

Dad had a really bad buzz cut, perhaps done by the same blind guide dog. The kind of bloke who looks like he picks fights with people three times his size because he’s under the mistaken impression that he actually is as hard as he looks. Only the fact that he was missing a large portion of his left hear (and I could see the toothmarks where it was detached) tells me he’s not as hard as the people he winds up.

The kid, though. Another class. About 10-ish, clad in a dark blue "Burberry" hoody – of course with the hood right up. With his big googly eyes, he looked like ET on the front of Elliot’s bike.

There were some cub scouts helping with packing at the tills in exchange for your hard-earned spare brass and Little Chav spotted the collection bucket remarkably quickly for one so early in his criminal life. Fingers straight in. Until Mum smacked him in the face.

She obviously guessed he’d spend the money on crack instead of more ***** from Elizabeth Duke for her to hang off her fingers.

Most of you in the UK will likely have noticed that it’s finally starting to act like winter, and we’re getting very cold, frosty mornings around now. Sod’s Law, of course, for my neighbour who just bought one of those “car condom” things to save the tedious de-icing every morning. The first day after she got it and the temperatures have risen just enough so that she didn’t need it today.

Going back a few years, I used to work with a guy called Mark who grew up in Australia. He was still a really nice guy despite that, actually. He made the bizarre choice to emigrate over here and his family followed some years later, amongst them his younger sister.

Her first winter came as a shock. Due to where they’d lived, she’d never seen snow or frost before, outside of the TV. This bizarre thin film of ice all over her car windows and in the locks. Mark recalled that the following few seconds were like watching slow motion.

He was stood by the car waiting for her to come out with some de-icer or something… and she came out with a kettle full of water. Hot water. Boiling to be precise. Before he could stop her, she flung the contents over the windscreen as he screamed “NNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOO” and lunged forward.

Water his windscreen. Windscreen went “what the ****?!” and made a weird crunching noise. Then caved completely into the interior of the car as the glass shattered.

In fairness, they had very clear visibility from the driver’s seat.

I’m feeling all Delia Smith today. Or Fanny Craddock. I’d rather be feeling Kate Winslet’s but that Pasta Cat fella’s got her baggsied tonight so I’m getting sloppy thirds. Hey ho. Guess you have to settle for what you can get and at least Delia can make a good supper when I’m done with her.

Aaaaaaaaanyway. In today’s edition of Mosh’s Handy Household Hints…

More culinary tips

When tilting a bag of salt and vinegar crisps up to get the last little bits out of the bottom, always close your eyes. Those little concentrated crystals of flavouring sting like **** if they land on your retina.

More money-saving hints

Here’s another good one. If you have a cat, and use a litter tray this one might save some cash and some effort.

If your cat pisses in the litter tray, pop it (the tray, not the cat) into a warm airing cupboard and leave it to dry.

You end up with nice, dry cat litter which can be reused.

And, admittedly, an airing cupboard smelling of cat piss. But, hey, everything has its price.

He’s at it again

Early morning, into the lavvy. Lift the lid, unzip the flies and straddle. Look down to correct the aim…

EEK!

Cat’s head in the way. Ed’s got a strange fascination with all things lavatorial (like I don’t…). He was perched there, forepaws on the rim, head stuck in the bowl staring at the water.

What a day

I’ve spent the entire day in one of these “training courses” at work. This one was in “effective business communications” which was basically how to talk at people and how to listen to them.

I’m 31. I know how to talk. Most people reckon I’m too good at it.

As a precursor we had a 147-question psychometric test which essentially repeated the same 7 questions over and over and over. And then told me nothing I didn’t already know.

Ah, well. At least it was a free lunch. Oh, no. It wasn’t. Because the food was crap so I had to run down to Gregg’s and stuff myself.

Gah.

Ed’s back

Well, 99% of him is anyway. He seems fine, and hasn’t even tried to lick his now-empty ballsack. Much.

Biology lesson

If you happen to eat a 6-egg chicken and bean omellette, expect not to be able to **** for at least 2 days.

Handy household hints

Never, in a bid to save water and cash, stinge on flushing the loo. It’s kind of OK maybe flushing once every two pisses, but it’s far too easy to get carried away. Or worse, to forget before you go away for the weekend and return to a house reeking of stale piss and ****.

Happened to a neighbour. Or a work colleague. I forget.

Not me. Noooo, not me. Honest.