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By Becky Bond 28 May, 2017
I nearly went to a wedding dressed as a hamster. I'd misheard the bride-to-be and thought she'd said the theme was hamsters and moles. Turns out it was gangsters and molls. Luckily, I found out before the big day, but had already googled furry suits and told everyone I was going to a really weird do.

It wouldn't have been the first time I'd made a fool of myself at someone's nuptials though. I was a bridesmaid for my friend Caz, who married the son of a preacher man in Tennessee. Bruce (the groom) liked a brewski with the best of us, but his Momma and Pappy were teetotal, so at the Holiday Inn reception, guests kept sneaking off to their rooms for a livener.

The thing is, I accidentally copped off with one of Bruce's mates when he offered me a top up in room 309. It must have been quite late in the night because we fell asleep afterwards. But the next morning, I was due to meet the newlyweds and all their extended family for brunch in a café down the road. Which I did, fully dressed in a turquoise bridesmaid dress, due to the unknown whereabouts of the rest of my clothes. I was greeted with a mixture of dismay and applause.

By Becky Bond 01 May, 2017
What DO men do in sheds? According to Sam Cam's instagram, Dave's just got a new one for his back garden. He calls it a Shepherd's Hut. It's a small barn with wheels glued on and it's where he wants to write his memoirs.

It arrived by crane with a price tag of twenty five thou - but they threw in a stove, which could be handy when his story's finished and the hut's rendered obsolete. Plank by plank he can burn his surroundings until all that's left is a cast iron box and a bestseller.

They've had it specially painted too - and not just the colour of shed (Cuprinol green or B&Q orange) but washed with a Farrow & Ball number called Mouse's Back. He'd wanted Tapir's Toenail, but that was poo-pooed by wifey due to it being too similar to their front door, Fox's Flange.
By Becky Bond 14 Apr, 2017
My husband feels violated. He took up the offer of a free health screening through work, but didn't realise it involved a rubber glove. We've since found out that wear loose clothing is code for you will have to cough and drop .

"Did you at least have a shower this morning?" I asked. He had, but the appointment was at 2pm and a lot can happen in six hours. A once-over with some lavender-fresh is fine for low level workaday business, but if you knew someone was going to be probing your anus, you might be tempted to reach for the carbolic soap. And your best boxers.

Doctor Digit also wanted to check out his meat and two veg, but Sam couldn't face it, promising to have a thorough rummage himself when he got home. I wondered if it was because she was a woman, which led us onto the conundrum of which would be more embarrassing – unwanted arousal or an accidental guff.

How do medical professionals practice the finger-up-yer-bum routine? Do you think there's a wardrobe full of silicone arses and lube? Perhaps they line them all up like in The Generation Game and you've got to pop in your index and guess if it's healthy or needs further investigation. Maybe there's a grid for comparison, much like the Bristol Stool Chart, but for sphincters.
By Becky Bond 22 Mar, 2017
It was like the pub quiz from hell with no prospect of a pinot grigio. The Speed Awareness Course.

We've all done one to dodge the penalty points. OK, perhaps not all . I accept there are some law-abiding citizens out there who make a habit of sticking to every ruddy rule in the book, but most of my friends have signed up at some point or another.

I was driving home from an early shift and had taken my eye off the speedometer for a nanosecond. Then flash - clocked doing 34mph in a 30mph limit. A month later, I found myself in a windowless sports hall on the outskirts of Skipton with a collection of other reprobates.

Our punishment/re-education was served with powdered coffee in cups made from the same stuff as the ceiling, at a cost of £85 all-in. Tables were laid out to encourage law breakers to mingle and we got special name tags so the teachers could tell us off with more authority.

It was a good-cop-bad-cop carry on. But unfortunately, the first man up to the podium had a dreadfully distracting physical feature. I'd better not say exactly what it was,* but in the circumstances, he coped remarkably well with the flipchart. His sidekick was harmless enough, apart from her patronising head tilt every two minutes to check it all made sense.

Well, the bits I caught were clear enough, but I've always struggled in a we-talk-you-listen scenario. If I'm not on-board I'm bored and find myself meandering into minutiae mode. Wonder if she knows she's got a VPL? Is that an intentionally messy bun or couldn't she be arsed this morning? Ooh, wedding ring – straight or modern lesbian marriage?
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