These are the stories that shaped my life, these are my memoirs
Joe Hoover is the highly regarded author of “Current account cheque book” published by Barclays Bank. He will soon be launching a Stateside book tour reading excerpts and signing copies.
Reviews for Current Account Cheque Book:
“It grips you from the first page, ‘Account Payee Only’ resonated with me, his words are life affirming”
“I couldn’t put this down, a fantastic debut”
“An absorbing and interactive novel, cleverly inviting the reader to insert their own comments in the ‘Pay to’ and ‘For the sum of’ segments, leading you to create your own adventure in his fantastical world”
………………………
Slowly I unclasped my mother purse and shielded my eyes from the explosion of moths that burst from within. There gleaming was a shiny new 50 pence piece. I had never seen such riches.
I slid my fingers in and grabbed the coin, screwed my fist around it and ran out of the kitchen.
Later that day at the local shopping centre, a tawdry place it was. I had become lost in the branch of Tesco’s many years prior, doomed to walk the aisles forever -and this was long before supermarkets sold food that was edible.
It was all row upon row of faggots and tinned peas back then. (For the benefit of my American readers by faggot I don’t mean it was where neighbourhood gays frequented to cast furtive glances over the Spam. Faggots are congealed balls of unidentifiable meats stuffs which gave variety to the UK diet of tinned corned beef and boiled cabbage)
It was at this same shopping centre that I spied a drugstore, my mother would often go in here for cotton buds to prod our ears with, Nit lotion to burn the bodies of head lice along with our scalps, cough mixture to boil our insides.
They also sold a range of sweets but not the garishly child baiting packaging of your normal confectionary. This looked altogether different, it had words like nougat, honeycomb and coconut ice. I recall the bar of honeycomb which resembled a gold ingot to my eyes. I retrieved my carefully hidden 50p from my sock and bought the treat stashing it in my shorts to indulge in later from the sanctuary of my bedroom.
My glee was short-lived, my mother had spotted me and I caved under interrogation, I was sentenced to a brash smack on the legs and threatened with those chilling words “Wait until your father gets home”
El Guapo
/ March 11, 2014Wait – so faggots are cans of meat, but fags are cigarettes?
Are you sure the English invented the language?
joehoover
/ March 12, 2014😀 Assume everything is called a fag/faggot unless otherwise advised
appletonavenue
/ March 11, 2014Oh dear, I can only imagine that father will make you eat those faggots of meat and wash it down with cabbage soup. (I can’t imagine a worse punishment.)
joehoover
/ March 12, 2014Lucky we have moved on in culinary terms since then!
appletonavenue
/ March 13, 2014Must’ve been quite a relief.
joehoover
/ March 13, 2014My parents are still trapped in that timewarp, that’s why I learnt to cook at a young age as I thought there must be more than this 😀
thehobbler
/ March 12, 2014Thanks for explaining “faggots”. I didn’t even have to ask. 😉
joehoover
/ March 12, 2014Now if you can all start using fag in the correct terms over there 😀
joehoover
/ March 12, 2014You reblogged me 😀 Thanks, but it says I am not following you. May I follow you?
thehobbler
/ March 12, 2014Of course…
joehoover
/ March 13, 2014Cool, put the kettle on then, I’ll be over
thehobbler
/ March 13, 2014Woo hoo! (American for I’m excited) 😉
joehoover
/ March 13, 2014I’m planning my American road trip later this year, but just through California. Your country is too darned big
thehobbler
/ March 13, 2014How exciting Joe! I thought you were going to New York first.
joehoover
/ March 13, 2014Nah, no one wants to go there as they went last year.
There’s still plenty of bloggers down that coast. Next time I want to go to Texas
thehobbler
/ March 13, 2014Texas? Yee haw!
joehoover
/ March 14, 2014Hah! Well, Austin. Sounds like it’s not quite the same as the rest of the state
thehobbler
/ March 14, 2014I have a feeling that anywhere you visit you’ll have fun. Austin does have some cool stuff.
thehobbler
/ March 13, 2014Hey Joe, I am sorry I missed your birthday. Moody blogging isn’t great for birthdays, but I hope it went wonderfully and I hope you have a great year and many more to come.
joehoover
/ March 13, 2014No worries, I don’t really celebrate much – I hate being centre of attention
thehobbler
/ March 12, 2014Reblogged this on Plays Well With Words.
pouringmyartout
/ March 12, 2014HA!!!!!!!!! wait… I thought a faggot was a bundle of wood… stupid evolving language…
joehoover
/ March 12, 2014I’ve never heard that in my 300 years on this earth
pouringmyartout
/ March 12, 2014I am pretty sure…
gingerfightback
/ March 12, 2014When my brother got married in Texas as best man I was asked to keep the speech short. So I said “Anybody wants to know the dirt on him join me outside for a fag.” My how the redneck bible bashing f’wits laughed. Is the honeycomb a Crunchie? Remember Gordon Honeycomb the newsreader? Them were the days………
joehoover
/ March 13, 2014You’re lucky they laughed and didn’t hang you from a tree!
It wasn’t a crunchie, it was just honeycomb, in a big slab, it was amazing
Yes I remember Gordon Honeycomb, Gordon’s were prolific back then, I liked Gordon Burns, always wanted to go on the Krypton Factor. And Gordon Bennett is one of my favourite phrases along with good grief.
gingerfightback
/ March 13, 2014Gordon Bennett!
joehoover
/ March 14, 2014Crikey!
gingerfightback
/ March 14, 2014Blimey!
joehoover
/ March 14, 2014You could have Cor Blimey’d there.
Bloomin ‘eck
gingerfightback
/ March 14, 2014I’ll see your Bloomin ‘eck and raise you a blinkin heck!
joehoover
/ March 14, 2014Arrgh, I’m all out. I goggled some British exclamations for help and stumbled upon “blow off” and it gave me the giggles as my mum used to say “Who below off?”
gingerfightback
/ March 14, 2014Revel in Gordon Bennett Joe – I wonder who he was…..
susielindau
/ March 14, 2014I love your intro! Brilliant!
Your mum could have been glad you didn’t steal the candy….
joehoover
/ March 14, 2014Good point! At least I was paying for it. I’ll mention this to her next time I speak to her
Linda Vernon
/ March 19, 2014LoL!! I love the concept you started this off with and the story itself was something out of Dickens. I have to admire your integrity, Joe. You didn’t steal the candy which is what a lot of kids would have done. You only stole from your mother’s faggot (I’m assuming purses are called faggots in England). You were a sweet child I’m sure except for this one incident?
joehoover
/ March 19, 2014😀 Oh I’m laughing so hard. Mum’s purse is the only thing not called a faggot in the English language
Mostly sweet, once I pushed a girl over on her rollerboots whilst I was on rollerboots, she actually pushed me first but she was the one who grassed me to her parents. And there was the time I accidently killed that hamster.
Linda Vernon
/ March 19, 2014Rollarboots? That makes more sense I guess than rollarblades which is what we call them! Oh that poor, dear,sweet little innocent hamster!
joehoover
/ March 19, 2014These predated blades, had 4 proper wheels.
Linda Vernon
/ March 19, 2014Oh those kind! I used to skate on metal skates that attached to my saddle shoes with a skate key. But they did have four proper wheels at least.
joehoover
/ March 20, 2014I tried rollerblades once, did a group skate all through London on a Friday night, hundreds of people. I couldn’t brake so almost shot straight down the stairs of a tube station. I hung up my blades after that
Linda Vernon
/ March 20, 2014Ahaha! Well thank god there were hundreds of people there to break your fall! What a nightmare that would be. I don’t blame you for hanging up your blades after that. I could never stop on skis. I loved skiing but only when I didn’t have to stop.
aFrankAngle
/ March 26, 2014Absolutely a gripping tale! …. and thanks for stopping by during my absence.
pegoleg
/ April 10, 2014Those childhood lessons are not forgotten, are they? And I’d like to write my comments in your cheque book: Pay to the order of Peg-o-Leg, 1000 pounds.
joehoover
/ April 11, 2014I’ll send you a signed copy!
Coralie Schoenthal
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Delois Cheatham
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Wesley Mcelhiney
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