Part of my therapy

I have just completed a rescue mission to the south of France.

Sister-in-law managed to get herself, luggage, car, etc., stranded there
whilst in possession of no discernable driving skills. Hubby (my bro),
did all the driving, but she managed to lose him last year (permanently,
boating accident, tragic, etc.), during their previous visit. Someone
else foolishly drove her there for an anniversary visit (what the
hell?), then scarpered sharpish.

Stupidly, following an hysterical and largely incoherent phone call, I
agreed to fly out and drive her and an inordinate amount of junk back to
Blighty, thinking it was a small thing to do, in the circumstances.

I discovered that S-I-L's repertoire, previously quite impressive,
having featured neuroses, alcoholism, extreme ugliness, vast bulk and an
attitude to the human race that makes Hitler look like mother Teresa,
now includes a full blown, and quite dangerous psychosis.

1100 miles and 3 days later, including stops for various 'episodes'[1],
and I'm finally home. A cup of tea, kiss the kids, a blast on the bike,
a rummage around the Mrs, and I'm on the road to recovery.

The final touch? Lets have a look at what those cunts on UKRM are up to.

So, I love you all, except D*s, of course.

[1]Example 1 (minor!); Saying to customs at Portsmouth, "Just give me
back the fucking passport", followed by a loud comment to the world in
general; "Why do they employ these ignorant niggers?". That took some
serious negotiation to mitigate.
Example 2 (average); Pulling a knife on an estate agent near Avranches.
Large bribe required for this one, but she gave me the money back
eventually.

 

Sounds like ex-hubby might have done the deed on himself just to
escape..

Phil.

 

Your reward will be in heaven, my son.

 

[snip]

that's brightened my day up - cheers!

 

Sounds like her next jaunt ought to be to Broadmoor.

 

Dentist wrote:

Bwaahaaa, come on, fess up, who has *not* wanted to do this?

 

On a serious note, I'm hoping she'll be sectioned, or whatever they call
it now, before she actually does some physical damage, to herself or
others. I finally left her in her local hospital, with a minder, before
I got my train home.

 

There's no shame there, it crossed my mind a few times, as well as just
passing the problem to the local gendarmes.

 

Spooky.

 

He wasn't the type, I think. But I have wondered if he might have done a
runner and I'll get a phone call one day.

 

My current experiences mean that estate agents are nowhere as far up my
hit list as conveyancing solicitors, who are obviously the spawn of
Satan

 

If you no longer have any ties to this psycho in the way of nephews and
nieces, I'd dump the ****, as far and as fast a possible, iiwy.
--
Dave
GS850x2 XS650 SE6a

"It's a moron working with power tools.
How much more suspenseful can you get?"
- House

 

Jesus wept, sounds like she needs a kick in the ****.

 

Heh,
that's the therapy I'm talking about. ;-)

 

That is indeed the plan, now that the hotel strait-jacket is her likely
next address.

 

PML

Having seen a 'customs officer' in action when someone said much the
same thing at Gatwick I can imagine the hilarity that ensued ... for
all the onlookers that is ...

 

Still having trouble then?

 

You're good at reading between the lines )

 

I was oping for a bit of elucidation; I might even have been sympathetic.

 

Higgins wrote:
[solicitors]

Oh, OK.

My issues are wide and varied but can be summed up by:

"Why do queries & issues that should have been brought up several
months ago only come to the fore when we are imminently about to
exchange contracts"[1]

Cheers!

[1] For a week and a half we have been exchanging "tomorrow".