deifheids defeated (HNT)

If you think I'm a nice person, or if you prefer to think the best of people, you might prefer to skip straight to the photos.

deifheids (pronounced deef-heeds) - people who are unable to listen to anyone else, because they're too busy talking about themselves. [from the Scots deif=deaf, heid=head]

Since our weekend away in the country with the deifheids, we haven't seen them again, and it has become clear that they've finally had enough of me! Over the years that I've known these friends of my partner, the deifheids had learned to live with all my antisocial habits. They even got used to me putting plugs in my ears and walking away in the middle of one of their well-worn monologues about themselves.




But something I did during the weekend away must have been too much for them, and they're not returning our calls.

At first, I couldn't imagine how I had achieved this. Did they take offence at my swearing during a public spat with my partner? Did they object to me urinating off the veranda? Or perhaps my persistent photographing of cowpats was too obvious a sign of my priorities?




No, I think I know how I did it. The communal food that they brought to the farmhouse was mostly tough red meat and designer nibbles. And the food that my partner had brought was the same kind of stuff. The only thing we packed that I would willingly eat was peanut butter, and that somehow got lost on the journey. So we sat down to eat, and people were drooling over a tub of designer food, a coarse dry paste made of pine nuts, parsley and parmesan cheese. Three horrible ingredients on their own, when you combine them it's like sand and vomit. I picked up the paste, sniffed at it with disgust, and said it smelt like the scrapings from under someone's foreskin.

Well there was uproar! The female deifheid threatened to punch my head in. In a pretence of soothing her, I said "no, you're misunderstanding me, I'm not getting at you, it's only your food that smells like smegma. You don't stink of penis cheese."

Yet offence was taken. There's no pleasing some people.




Finally, after hunger forced me to eat a wad of the foul stuff, I got a sore stomach and spent the rest of the holiday in bed, where at least there was peace and quiet.

Just before we left to come home, I perked up, and as the four of us did a whirlwind cleaning and packing blitz, I was enjoying the teamwork, so I said "this is the best fun of the holiday, why didn't we do this for the whole time?"

That was about 4 weeks ago, and I've had a whole month without having to listen to the same old deifheid monologues. What a fortunate creature I am!

If you're desperate, you can access all the old half baked thursday posts.