Tuesday, 14 August 2012

The Ribbons Ruined My Life

It was just a normal Thursday morning in August; I was stood at the sink polishing my platinum douches, the sun had just started to warm up and the dogs were barking at the sound of the next door neighbor’s creaking leather sling. I’d just turned round to put my Dora the Explorer tea towel back on the rack when the most glorious sequined costume caught my eye beaming out from my telebox.

It was London 2012 and the turn for the Artistic Gymnast to fight it out for their chance to be crowned Olympic champion. I was mesmerized be all the twirls and summersaults as the gymnast managed to work a hula-hoop and glide gracefully through the air with satin ribbons flowing beautifully in a spectrum of colours. As the crowds cheered like mobs at the London riots I thought that’s what is missing in my life.

The very next day I signed myself up at the local gymnast club. I was larger than the other gymnast, but I as lubed my 100kg frame into my lycra onesie I knew there and then that this was the place for me. Beads of sweat formed on the palms of my hands and in my gusset as I held a ribbon for the first time, it was magical. It wasn’t long till I was gliding through the air, like a brick; still I stuck with it and after 3 months of having nothing but ribbons for breakfast, ribbons for lunch and a proper dinner I was ready to compete at the Greater Manchester Council Estate Games.
I came in second, it was the exact catalyst I needed to strive to compete on a professional level, soon I was walking the dog whilst hula-hooping 3 miles a day. The grueling schedule meant that my relationships suffered, me and my boyfriend started to argue and tragically he died as his neck become tangled in a stray ribbon in a freak accident as I summersaulted down the stairs, it was an awful time in my life but as the judge found me not guilty of his murder I knew that ultimately it was the thought of standing on the Olympic stadium that got me through it.

As I rehearsed for the next qualifying games I found that I had to up the difficulty in my routine if I really wanted to compete on a national level. My coach suggested that I do the whole routine whilst wearing roller blades, I wasn’t sure at first but once I’d done my first rehearsal in my new Hello Kitty skates I knew he was right. Now I was zooming round the floor with my ribbons flapping in the breeze.

That’s when it happened, the day my life changed forever, when all my dreams were taken away from me. As I did a backwards summersault with double pike twist one of the ribbons became caught on one of my wheels, there was nothing I could do as I tumbled into the refreshment stand. I was trapped under the rubble and had knocked over a jug of Ribenna Tooth Kind, I was struggling to breath as the purple juice began to trickle over my face and a stray custard cream had become lodged in my throat.

I blacked out and was sent to The Salford Royal Rehabilitation Centre for Injured Gymnast. As I looked back at what had happened and how the ribbons had ruined my life I vowed never to pick up a pair again. It took seven months of grueling physiotherapy for me to learn to walk again. I also had to learn to read and write; I could never do that before so that was a bit of a bonus. Soon my accident had made front-page news in the Anglers Times and a collection for my recovery had begun. As I was handed a cheque for £15 I was touched knowing I could book a one-way flight with Ryanair, without luggage, to the Isle of Man, it gave me something to focus on and speeded up my recovery no end.

I now spend all my time helping other gymnasts who are addicted to their sport and I’m running a public awareness campaign to rid the world of this awful disease. As far as I’m concerned the ribbons are more addictive than cocaine. I will not rest until we live in a ribbon free society. 

Sunday, 5 August 2012

Olympics With Blanche

Fear not my friends, Blanche is back. One is awfully sorry regarding the lack of updates but you see one has been in a Cillit Bang induced coma for the best part of six month. Apparently it is not an appropriate substitute when faced with the dilemma of an empty bottle of gin. What’s a full bottle I hear you cry? I wont lie, my heads a bit groggy, my insides feel bloody marvelous though.

Well I’ve been inspired to write again after the spirit of Lilly Savage inhibited my body, this may come as a surprise to you but she’s a great fan of the Olympics, she once came second in a trolley dash around Primark so she’s practically an Olympian herself. It wasn’t until the day after we realized that it was in fact the start of the Birkenhead riots, well Dale Winton was shopping for a new onesie so you can see the confusion.

Well it has startled me to see the gays have embraced the Olympics and have managed to dragged themselves out of their local dark room long enough to find the TV remote. Maybe they were just confused at the mention of 5 rings and thought it was something else entirely. Although I think that being able to pause live TV during the middle of one of Tom Daley’s exquisite dives may have been a catalyst.

I myself have been overcome with Olympic glee. I found myself attempting quite a technically challenged routine with the ribbons. I was feeling rather daring after a special Olympic GnT – with just a splash of Dettol. Had it been an official sport of the games I’m quite sure I would have got gold, putting the business of the strangled camel aside.

The gays have embraced the sports so much that they too have their own special ‘Gay Games,’ an event that has taken part every 4 years since 1982. It surprised me to learn that the Javelin had not been replaced with a stiletto nor are the sprinters running towards a mid season sale at Abercrombie and Fitch. However the opening ceremony is a little different in that the games cannot officially begin until all 5 Olympic rings have been found which have been hidden within a local sauna. Gone are the big name sponsors too instead replaced with Aussiebum and Liquid Gold. Medals have also been replaced with a selection of Tony & Guy hair products in Gold, Silver and Bronze bottles respectively.

I also hear that there is a new sporting event in the planning called the ‘Giro Games.’ The first event is to be held in Liverpool this autumn. Some unconfirmed rumored events include replacing car wheels with bricks, skinning up as well as throwing Rockport. The Team GB kit has been designed by McKenzie and sponsored by Jeremy Kylie. Gold medals have been replaced with packets of Golden Virginia. Contestants are reportedly in exhausting training regimes up and down the country in your local Safeway car park.

With all this excitement one feels exhausted and must dash away to relax and unwind. I’ll leave you with these words, ‘it’s not the taking part that counts, it’s the winning.’

Love Always, 

‘Jeeves, I’ll have a shot of Lenor and a line of Daz’