Lottie The Drunken Cow


I’m sick to death of FICKLE FUCKERS who are laughing and joking one minute, ha ha ha, next minute they’re in a mood about something and throwing a paddy. What’s that all about, eh, the divvy twats? I’ll tell you what it’s about, it’s about BOOZE.

Yep, it’s Lottie again. I never know where I am with her. I’m positive she drinks after she’s put THE BERSERKERS to bed, even moreso now Fat-Fuck has left her. She’s always been a bit of a piss-head, swigging dear dead Daddy’s brandy and whiskey when we were teenagers, sneaking round the back of the rugby team’s changing rooms in the park with a big bottle of gut-rot and ten fags. Twice, Scotty had to carry her home and up to her bed while I distracted meine Mami in the kitchen.

She lets on she’s something she’s not, a hoity-toity wine buff – she’s all ‘Oh yes, I’m getting undertones of wood-smoked sideboard’ and ‘There’s a top-note of old badger’ or whatever, but she never swills and spits, she throws the lot down her neck – and not just wine, I saw her put a bottle of cheap voddy in her trolley when we were shopping the other day. Fucking alky.

I’ve got the blame for THE BERSERKERS being sick. Oh what a surprise. I should have seen it coming, normally I would but with yesterday being happy like it was and with her BEING PART OF THE LAUGH AND THE JOKE it didn’t enter my head that she’d turn round and blame me. But oh yes, it’s all my fault, I shouldn’t have encouraged them, I shouldn’t have been so childish. YOU’RE THEIR FUCKING MOTHER, LOTTIE – you sat there and watched them STUFF THEIR FACES without saying a word, I know what you were thinking, you were thinking if only you weren’t on your diet you could STUFF YOUR FACE TOO and either you were too busy slavvering over the Easter eggs you wouldn’t allow yourself to eat that you didn’t notice how much your OWN KIDS were eating, or you DIDN’T GIVE A SHITE. Which was it? 

Actually, do you know what, I don’t really care which it was, all I’ve got to say is —

Lottie, go and take a good FUCK to yourself.

You’re not blaming me for this one.


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  1. Dear Dotty,

    Way to go, sister. Don’t let her get away with making you the bad guy. After such a great day, too. Does she think anyone would believe that she hasn’t stuffed herself sick with Easter candy? Shame on her.

    If you can avoid getting too upset, I’d pointedly ignore her from now on. She lost her chance, and she’s a lot lesser woman for having shut you out.



    • Dear Judith,

      A leopard never changes it’s stripes, does it?

      Have you been awake all night or did you get up really early?

      Love Dotty xxx

  2. the howler and me

     /  April 8, 2012

    Dear Dotty,
    That is the first thing alchy’s do, is blame EVERYONE else for their own problems….I am glad you aren’t allowing her to use you as the scapegoat.

    -the howler and me 🙂

    • Dear the howler and me,
      That’s how I recognise it in Lottie – dear dead Daddy liked a bit of a drink and she’s showing some of the same signs. Plus with me being teetotal I tend to sense it in people.
      Love Dotty xxx

  3. “like” this post — I fucking “Love” this post!

  4. Dearest Dotty-est,
    Some parents expect other people to parent their kids. Personally, what’s the fun of being an adult if you can’t eat all the chocolate you want?
    Mucho amore,

    • Dear Sara,
      I think that was her problem yesterday – if she’d eaten her Easter eggs instead of sticking to her stupid diet she would have seen what her brats were up to and then she wouldn’t have got pissed last night and shouted at me on the phone.
      Anyway, I ate her Easter eggs this morning and very nice they were too.
      Love Dotty xxx

  5. Dear Dotty,
    You have a sublime way with words.
    Veggiewitch ♥

  6. I hate wine. It tastes like bull piss.
    But I can sound like a wine ponce because I watched James May’s Road Trip… both series’, the France one and the California one.
    Now stop whining and go look at my sausage picture tribute to ‘Cumberland…the King of the Sausages’… which I did just for you, except now that I think about it, it will probably creep you out and make you go hide in one of your appliances, so sorry about that.

    • Dear pmao,

      I don’t like wine either, I have to add lemonade to it. The only wine that’s okay is Pinot Grigio but I’m teetotal anyway so it doesn’t bother me.

      Yes, thank you, the picture did scare me but I’m too tired for my tumble dryer tonight, I’m off to bed soon.

      Love Dotty xxx

  7. Dear Dotty,
    I was drunk last night.
    I’m sorry okay.

  8. ‘There’s a top-note of old badger’



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