A marriage made in Heaven?

by ratty

Just thought I’d share with you all that my son, Adam, has introduced a new member to the family. He’d been furtively searching the internet for a partner, and after a flurry of emails with a couple in Madrid, who deal in this sort of thing, flew to Spain on Saturday last, to see what they had to offer.

His wish was to find a “someone special” who was loving, hardworking and able to provide him with many offspring.

Apparently, he was succesful in making his choice and today flew home with “Roxanne”. – I mean, Roxanne?

I don’t want to sound racist, but the only way I can describe her is as a black Spanish bitch, with “Spanish” being questionable. Though in her youth, she already exhibits the signs of the big-boned, muscular females you see working in fields in the sticks of Italy.

Incredibly, my wife accepted her into the home and took to her immediately. As did my daughter, who gushed “you are so beautiful, it doesn’t matter that you broke wind in the car coming from the airport.”

FFS – she can’t even speak English, she just communicates in grunts and gestures.

This was not what I had expected of Adam. I had envisaged a more conventional selection of a partner. But he’s over eighteen, so what can I do ?

When the conversation steered itself to sleeping arrangements, I ran to the kitchen and poured myself a neat Vodka , or two, or three – or four !

And it doesn’t just end there, next month he’s off to Warsaw – to buy another puppy !


32 Comments to “A marriage made in Heaven?”

  1. I thought No1 son had moved to the UK to pursue he honourable profession of Mechanical Engineer?


    • He did, he enrolled as a foundation year student (as he doesn’t have technical English) but found that just seven hours a week bored him shitless. He applied to a French University, got a place and quit the U.K.

      He will go to Paris to study in September.


      • I know what you mean.

        No1 son had 13 hours/week in his first year, and 11 in his second.

        All for £4K a year.

        The first year results don’t count towards his degree at all, so why not compress the whole lot into a two year degree, doing 20 hours p/w?


  2. A hefty bill.

    Adam is a British Citizen, but not resident in the U.K.

    That meant that he was classed as an Overseas student, consequently, his fees were FOUR times that of a “home” student.

    However, if he had been an illegal immigrant granted the right to stay, or the son of a Turkish worker . . .


  3. The whole system is screwed.

    I have ranted before about how Sam has to pay all his dental and optometry fees. If, however he’d left school and gone straight on the dole, it would all have been covered.

    Universities have just been warned not to treat overseas students as a source of easy income to make up the shortfall cuts that that the government have imposed on their funding. As it is, there is much resentment about how universities have been reluctant to fail overseas students mid-course and hence lose their income.


    • This is the reason I love the Madhatters, it’s just so diverse.

      Where else could you come across a spoof article about marriage, a request for a photo, an administrateur unable to comply and the whole thing culminating into a debate on the unfairness and inadequacies of the British educational system?


  4. Interesting dialogue chaps, learning a lot…


  5. Ratty,

    I would post instruction on how to show your photo via http://www.postimage.org but the last time I did, you were very dismissive of my effort.

    So this time you can sod off.


  6. Dismissive?


    Ooh, how that injustice hurts!


  7. I’m making easter eggs tonight for my daughter.

    Real chicken eggs, that is.

    It entails blowing the eggs, then filling the shells with molten chocolate.

    That way, she’ll think they’re just hard boiled eggs, but when she cracks the shell – quel suprise!

    (Maybe I should get out more)


  8. that’s a great idea !!!


    • You didn’t include a smiley, so I don’t know whether to laugh, or be offended. 🙂


    • was tempted to make a wisecrack about you needing to get out more – but hey, the disguised easter egg idea I thought was brilliant !!!

      Now me, being a cruel bastard with a sadistic sense of humour would have added to the surprise element by pretending I’d forgotten all about it being easter and so hadn’t got her an egg 😆

      P.S. youngest stepson still tells the story of the Xmas he woke up early to find no presents under the tree. I told him that’s what happens when little boys are naughty – Santa doesn’t leave them any presents !!!

      His bottom lip started to tremble and a tear slowly fell down his cheek (he was 19 at the time). “Bastard”, he cried – as, looking through the patio door, he spied a parcel sat on top of the bird bath. Oh how we laughed as he ran round the garden in his boxer shorts searching in bushes and up trees to find where I’d hidden all his pressies 😆


  9. Brill !

    I love things like that.

    But, there was one time I truly did forget . . . my wife’s wedding anniversary.

    That’s NOT going to happen again, I can assure you!


  10. it’s the silly, daft things that help cement family relationships and tend to be remembered and grow in the telling with each passing year !!!


  11. When Anita gave me a hard time for forgetting our wedding anniversary one year, I pointed out it was my wedding anniversary too – and if I wasn’t upset that I’d forgotten about it, I didn’t see why she should be either.

    She wasn’t persuaded by this argument !!!

    Women, eh !!! 🙄


    • Have you noticed that women have “selective memories?”

      Well, my missus has. She only remembers the bad things about me.

      Sometimes I have to remind her that I have a nice side too.

      This goes along the lines of “Do you remember when I threw you that suprise party?” – or something similar.

      I watch as she ferrets around the recall section of her brain, slowly her eyes glaze over as she relives the moment.

      Then, in an instant, she can turn on me with a “You don’t do things like that anymore.”


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