MY LITTLE BROTHER HAS CANCER

Chemo Charlie Update.
Bro went for his Chemotherapy treatment on Thursday and is feeling a little under the weather this weekend. This was his 7th and  last Chemo of his present batch and contrary to what I thought Christies have not run out of money and Chemo fluid it is actually Bro who is stopping the treatment after his 7th batch,. Why?? Because of the extreme side effects you might say? Because an alternative treatment you might ask? Because the Tumours have disappeared you might hope?? No!! None of these.
 Because the fat fooker  has a fear of the number 8.  Octophobia as it is medically known as. Yes, there is no way that Bro is having Chemo no8 Because of his Phobia to the number 8. This is the story of how it all began…………It was the 8th August and Bro was 8 years old. It was a very hot  that day, 88 degrees  in the shade. Bro was at Magdala St school in the infants, class 8. It was playtime and outside the school the chimes of an ice cream van could be heard playing that long loved nursery rhyme Diddle Diddle Dumpling my bro John (or something like that), well when the Chubby fooker (as he was known in them days) heard this he searched in his pocket and found 88pence that he had saved from taking sterilised milk bottles back to the shop. He was saving it for 88 arrow bars on the way home, but the smell of Mr Whippy was so appealing to the Chubby fooker it was too good to resist. Now children were not allowed out of school and the gates were always locked. Bro decided he could sneak through the railings and be back before anyone noticed (thick chubby fooker). Anyhow, he managed to get his head through although he had to force his chubby cheeks somewhat, and then he started to slowly squeeze through the railings, the queue at the ice cream van was getting smaller and sweat started to roll down bros chins and his heart pumped faster and he squeezed and squeezed until the Chubby Fooker got himself stuck half in and half out. Well pandemonium broke out and the dinner ladies (bros favourite teachers) tried in vain but could not budge him. Heywood fire Brigade where called, but they were busy taking part representing Heywood in an It’s a Knockout semi final, the dinner ladies had some custard left from dinner and they tried greasing bro with it to slide him out but as fast as they coated him, the faster he was licking it off and getting more and more stuck . The fire brigade arrived  8 hours and 8 minutes later. They finally cut the chubby fooker out. Well he now looked like a number 8!!! We are still in touch with the ex fireman

who sawn him out George Astric, who through this event had the idea and went on to be famous as the inventor of the Gastric Band. Anyhow to move on, we tried everything to try and make bro look like another number but he always looked like a number 8. The other kids would mock him and shout “Who eight all the pies Chubby”) We sent him to eightwatchers to no avail. We put an eight chart in his bedroom to measure it, but he never changed. He was blighted throughout his childhood, not being able to go on rides at the fun fair because of eight restrictions, If he had looked like any other number he would have looked different when he looked in the mirror, but number 8 he always looked the same, we thought of having surgery but the best we could hope for was to turn the Fat fooker( by this time he had outgrown his chubby image) into two threes. He eighted what he looked like. He would have given anything to look like the big fat 0 that he used to be.
He eventually did expand himself out of his no 8 shape with a diet of Big Macs Chinese takeaways, and diet cokes of course, but not before the events of his childhood had left their marks on him. That’s why he says he is missing Chemo number 8, but the thick fat fooker says he is ok to have number 9!!!!