TOTALLY EXTRA: Stretch and Seal, Swearing in front of Grandma & a Dental Nurse Confession

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honest upfront opinions, a rant, spence,

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Aloha.

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And Becca's laughing at me, because I did just accidentally

spread my legs.

And now I'm going to sit in a more rontile, thank God,

because those watching on YouTube cannot see that bad.

How's it come on time today?

Right, listen, this is an episode about you, not about us.

And I'm dying to see what Sheila, the squealer,

has got to say.

She sent us a petty polyam.

She says, great ladies, please give me the name of Sheila,

the squealer.

And I've got a petty poly.

I work in an office, and there's one member of staff,

who's basically it's completely not a bell end.

Over the last year, me, let's call him Roger,

I've had a few foolings out.

Roger the rat.

We'll know any opportunity, try and throw anyone under the bar.

Sounds like a nod.

Roger is a bit of a weirdo too.

As when he enters the office, he will remove his shoes

and leave them by the door.

We have a gravel path leading to the office door.

And often shoes will drag in pebbles and sharp bits of gravel.

When Roger pisses me off, looks in my direction,

or offers everyone a cup of tea and forgets to ask me,

I go to the door, and I hunt for the sharpest bit of gravel,

and I pop it in one of his shoes.

And I now sleep soundly at night, no, in Roger,

put his shoes on, get stabbed in the toe

by my carefully selected stones.

And then he has to remove his shoe

to empty out the contents.

More of the story, don't be like Roger the rat.

Thanks, ladies, for everything you do.

Love, she lived the squeefer.

It's excellent, excellent Petty Polly.

Really, I'm Petty Polly.

We've also got one from Kim.

She says, Petty Polly, short and sweet.

Hi, ladies, I have a short but sweet,

and maybe mental Petty Polly for you.

So when I experience a bad driver on a dual carriageway,

I don't honk my horn or flash my lights.

I simply take them over, and as I pass them,

I blow them kisses.

This is particularly enjoyable when it's a man,

and they know that they've done wrong.

They're totally stunned, and I love it.

Sometimes I throw in a little wave as well, give it a go.

It makes you look mental, but it's funny.

Love the pod, you crack me up.

No need to keep me in, no, I'm Kim,

and I'm from Gospels.

Oh, thank you.

Oh, thank you.

Brilliant.

We've got some misheard lyrics now from Stephen.

Hello, Luanna, Emot, and of course Bex.

Of course, we have some mentioned Bex now,

because she's part of the pod.

Missed my first time messaging on the new number.

Hopefully we'll get on the pod.

I've got a misheard lyric, bad light to share.

Now, I don't know if anyone's put this on the pod before,

but if the RV can take it off, or if they have them,

I would love for it to be on the pod.

Now, this one's actually about the Abbasong Super Trooper,

and it's about the line that goes,

I was sick and tired of everything.

When I called you last night from Glasgow.

Glasgow.

And when I was young, I used to think it was,

when I called you last night from Glasgow.

I was meant for.

It just came up to me when I was listening to Abba.

Glasgow.

Anyway, just thought it was funny, and thought you'd like it.

No need to keep me anonymous.

My name is Stephen from Liverpool,

aka the same guy who loves the guy-guarning stories

just to hear Luanna gag really.

Well, you taught Luanna out?

I thought it was when I called you last night from Memphis.

Glasgow.

How did I get that so wrong?

No, very wrong.

It's not even got the same ring, too.

Not really.

I mean, Tesco, you can-

Tesco, Glasgow.

But Memphis Babes.

Well, where are you going?

Where are we going?

All right, message from anonymous next, so free to nipple.

Free to nipple.

Brilliant.

Hi, Luanna.

Mo.

I love the pod, and it keeps me going at work during lots of soul-destroying

admin.

Bless your heart.

Please keep me anonymous, but I need some advice regarding a school mum.

Ooh, here we go, then.

I have a busy work life, and I only do pickups one to two days a week,

so I'm not a huge one for schoolmums or making friends at the school gates.

Maybe just smile and chat, but it's not something that's overly important to me,

and I'm very introverted anyway, and that's very enough, aren't I?

Recently, one of the schoolmums has latched on to me, and she's nice,

and I do really like her.

However, I'm finding it way, way too much.

She texts me constantly, and if I don't reply, I get the U.A.K. text,

and yeah, I'm fine.

It's just 2 p.m. on a Monday, and I'm at work.

We both have kids with special needs, however, we lead very different lives.

Her child has massively significant, oh, I feel for her, though,

has massively significant needs, and to be honest, her husband is a prick.

I feel I want to be a good friend, but I honestly can't handle the constant

commentary on her life.

She's also quite dramatic, and this is so not me.

She was recently admitted to hospital for basically nothing,

and the drama around this, and the calling me to go, oh, dearie,

to go on about every movement in the hospital.

It's too much.

Oh, it's because she's got nothing going on.

Well, she has, she's got a kid.

I think I've forgotten these.

Well, yeah, but she clearly is lonely lonely.

I've stopped, I've tried to stop from being, which is a good thing,

I think, yeah, tried to stop being so available and drag out the text back,

but she doesn't get the hint, and to be honest, I've got the friend Ick.

How do I reverse out of this?

I want to be kind, I would never want to hurt her,

but I think we have different styles, all that is hard.

You just, just distance, just keep distance in there.

Be kind and just like, back it up.

Back it up.

Like, really prolong out the text.

Try and not do school pick up for a few weeks, so you don't see her,

and then just phase it out.

Yeah, and maybe if in your text you could just say, you know,

something like, you know, really, really busy, you know,

sorry, busy.

You know, you don't, yeah, yeah, just to kind of almost boundary our time when she calls.

I think, yeah, and I think it's really hard to boundary your time

and do it in a way that doesn't sound like a dick,

but equally, she has been quite drained.

But equally, I do have empathy and sympathy for her.

It sounds like life is really hard for her,

but that doesn't mean that you have to step in.

What does it mean?

You have to step in it and rescue her.

Keep your boundary, keep being kind, but yeah,

don't be, don't be too available.

Good luck with that.

Yeah.

We've got a voice note round from Laura next.

Laura, Laura, Laura.

I can't believe it.

It's not quite ready with that, so she's doing a song.

So, I do have a round of the week.

My mother-in-law calls Kling Film a stretch and seal.

And the fuck calls that stretch and fucking seal.

Yeah, never.

See, even on the back of it.

Kling Film.

It's fucking Kling Film.

Kling Film.

Sorry, but it really fucking winds me up.

Please keep me anonymous.

I'm Laura, and I'm from Guernsey.

Do you know what I just realised?

We call it Kling Film.

And it's called Kling Film.

Kling Film.

Yeah.

What do you call it?

When you say we.

You just said it.

Kling Film.

Kling Film.

What do you call it?

Kling Film.

Did you think it was Kling Film?

Kling Film.

I've just realised that it's called Kling as in Kling.

Yeah, I think Kling Film.

Kling Film.

Kling Film.

Yeah.

Kling Film.

And you've ever seen a written on the box?

Oh, yeah, but I don't know why.

I've just always called it Kling Film.

Well, that's okay, babe.

You can call it that.

But it is Kling Film.

Yes, it is.

It's called Kling Film.

Kling Film.

It clings to the thing.

It's trying to cling and then look after.

Well, I've just got that.

Well, do you know what?

I was this old when.

Have you never read the packet?

Yeah, but it's just never registered.

Yeah.

Well, I'd like my mother.

Because she's clearly been saying it wrong.

Kling Film.

My whole life.

And she says Peshacho.

And Advocado.

Advocado.

And it's like two months full.

Other shit.

Enda Marme.

I guess you're mum's fault.

So it's 100% by Marme.

Basically, she's a dumbfuck.

You know, I've developed dumbfuckitis.

You have.

With clean pronunciation.

I took Kling Film.

Well, you've had a lot today.

You've learned it's not Memphis in the, in the Abba song.

This is an education.

An education.

Right.

Barrel.

Let's see what Barrel's got to say.

She says, hello, you lush lot.

Little story.

I know you're going to appreciate it.

We live in a beautiful little village in North Devon by the sea.

A kind of place people describe as peaceful,

which should have been my first clue.

Marla walking the dog recently.

My daughter Nancy ran off her head,

rolling around happily in the wildflowers.

And when she came back,

her awful, crushed black velvet trexu, not my choice,

was absolutely covered in fine white sand,

her hair, clothes, face,

like she'd been deliberately seasoned.

That's when it hit me.

This isn't just sand.

This is a village where a lot of people

have scattered the ashes of their loved ones,

which means my daughter hadn't been rolling in nature.

She had been rolling in the ashes of dead people.

Oh.

She was thrilled, radiant,

living her best-ferral coastal childhood.

I mean, whilst all there stood there holding a dog lead,

wondering how exactly you explain this at bath time.

Anyway, safe to say the trexu,

it was placed respectively in the dog pea pin

before we got in the car.

I'm not sure if there are laws against this.

Maybe I'm not going to give you my name.

However, everyone knows Nancy.

Love you.

I mean fair.

She's rolled in ashes.

She's rolled in dead persons ashes.

Brilliant.

Great story, though.

Voice note from Katie.

Hello, new animal.

I hope you are all well.

I am just sending you quick voice note on the back of

kids swearing and putting us in bloody awful position.

So I have a four-year-old who thinks he's probably eight or nine.

He knows way more than he should do

and God knows where he's getting it all from.

However, the other day,

I'm with my mother-in-law.

She had looked after him while I'd been on the work thing.

I came home and we're having a conversation about what is

what we're allowed to say and what we're not allowed to say.

Because my mother-in-law came out with,

oh, cry, he.

And he went, you're not supposed to say that.

That's swearing.

And I said, actually, oh, cry, he isn't that bad.

And he said, okay.

So I'm allowed to say, oh, cry, he that's not swearing.

He said, but I'll fuck it, isn't it?

Well, my jaw dropped.

She tried telling him off.

I'm trying not to laugh.

I'm trying to really politely explain.

No, no, darling.

That is definitely swear words.

So we're not supposed to say that.

Okay.

Well, I won't say, oh, fuck that.

Because that's naughty.

What about holy shit?

Is that swearing as well?

Yes, darling.

Okay.

Well, I'm not going to say how you need shit.

And it was almost like he was taking pride out of being able to say

you know what he's almost then talking about.

Well, my mother and all was mortified and tried to like tell him off.

I'm trying to politely explain.

No, no, no.

You can't be saying that, darling.

I try to explain it all nicely in front of mother and law.

Anyway, so I hope that I'm making laugh as much.

It did me deep inside while I'm trying to be a strict parent.

Also, congratulations to Bex and Owl on getting engaged.

Shout out to you guys.

All the fun is just about to begin as someone who works in the travel industry.

Can I please suggest a lovely wedding abroad on the beach?

I did it.

Or be it ten years ago.

And surprises are slightly more than I did it.

But you will get so much more for your money and so many more memories.

There is nothing.

I'm not sure.

Going on holiday with all your favourite people.

Being in the sun, getting married on the beach and just having the best time ever.

We've done it with the work for Bex.

We won't come out for it as little or as long as they want to.

And you will find that some people can't make it.

But they are probably the people that you are going to look for.

And not going to miss in my experience.

Anyway, have a lovely day.

Love you guys.

That was a very nice message.

Thank you so much.

And also with the kids side of things as well.

The other day was in the kitchen.

And he just had something happening to Ryan.

And he flipped the bird.

No, it was in the bath.

He flipped the bird.

His sister.

And I went, I beg your pardon.

I said, I didn't say anything.

And I was like, you did a finger gesture.

So you know exactly what that is.

And I said, I will not have that.

I said, where did you pick that up from?

You went literally.

And he was bang on.

Where did you get that from?

I said, that's not okay.

And he went, well, you did it.

It's Dave in the pub last week.

And I remember, he's absolutely right.

And my friend was taking the piss out of me.

So I turned around and gave him a middle finger.

And I was like, so I had to then.

And I was like.

Mommy's very naughty.

Damn it.

Little git.

Right.

Message from Brianie.

Hi girls.

I have just listened to the podcast with some creepy goings on.

Oh yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.

Love the ghost stories.

I thought I was just someone, some of my experiences.

We moved into our forever home in September last year.

A large, very large, detached 1930s house.

A few of his owners had lived there for over 60 years.

Until the gentleman passed away and his wife moved to a care home.

The first few weeks were quiet.

And our two-year-old daughter even continued to sleep through the night.

Then we began to be woken up with loud banging.

Oh gosh.

Think boxes falling and doors slamming around two to three a.m. every night.

I first thought nothing of it.

We lived in a mid-terrest property previously.

So we used to be everyday noises of our neighbours.

And then remember, our neighbours were not attached.

There was also no sign of any of our moving boxes

or anything else falling through the night.

The water became more and more distressed screaming when she woke each night

and refusing to not only sleep, but go into her bedroom.

A couple of times she has said,

Look, mummy, man!

When we had been in her room,

but brushed it off as someone walking along the road,

although I hadn't convinced myself.

On a couple of occasions, I've come downstairs

to the smell of a fried breakfast.

And the dog occasionally lies to bark at nothing,

both in the downstairs bedroom.

Then one night I went to the Lou,

and I heard voices downstairs, the TV,

which I know I had turned off was on,

and playing to itself.

Oh, my husband went and turned the TV off.

Oh, to guys?

I was not brave enough.

It's like the Enfield hauntings.

You ever see that on the tele?

Yeah.

Oh, the next morning,

I asked if there were any spirits in our house

to either leave or at least be quiet.

Not turn the TV on, stand in my daughter's room

or do anything else that might scare us.

That's what I was asked to do.

You have talked to spirits and tell them,

can you please go away?

A little bit.

Since then, everything has been...

A little bit scary.

Isn't it?

Since then, everything has been fairly quiet.

And my daughter is back to sleeping in her own room.

She needs to change.

She needs to change.

It got better when I did it when I asked them to leave.

That was...

Oh, that wasn't till last Friday.

When stood in our hall, my daughter asks,

Mommy, what's that man doing?

She repeated herself several times before I answered,

there's no man.

It's just me and you, Daddy's out.

We'd made it to the bottom of the stairs

when she looks over the barrister,

and again goes,

here, Mommy, what's that man doing?

Our home has a really nice feel to it.

Warm, not at all creepy.

Before anyone else, we have no plans to move.

The spirits, let's start with us.

Briny from Chichol.

You need to sage, Briny.

Wow.

Sage.

Sage away.

I did sage, and I did exactly what you did.

I asked them to quiet to please leave,

and we haven't had anything since.

Freaky.

We've got a voice note ramp from Katie, next.

Hi, everyone.

Hi.

I want to know a little bit that this probably isn't an issue for Louise,

because she's too busy for this.

But I've got a ramp about Supermarket Trollies.

Go on.

The coin bits, particularly.

Not the ones you put the slot in and slide in.

They're fine.

But why do they make the ones that you stick straight in the mechanism?

Because you can't bloody get a grip on them.

Oh, my God, it's so bad.

Especially because I've got like nail extensions.

Yeah.

I mean, mine aren't excessively long,

but I'm sick of asking any old lander in his granny

to help me pull them out after I've been shopping.

I just want to shop.

Load the car, take the trolley back and not have a drama.

Who invented these little bastards?

I mean, it was probably a man.

Let's face it.

Anyway, rant over.

I'm on the school run now.

Listen to the pod.

You crack me up.

So much on my random car journeys.

No, he's keeping anonymous.

I'm Katie from Newtler Willow's near Wellington.

Thank you for being so brilliant.

I love you, girls.

Yeah.

That is an annoying trolley mechanism.

Yeah.

It's like a contraption all in one.

You sort of click it in and then you can't get the bloody coin out.

It's like you have to sort of wedge it out with something.

Yeah.

I'm with you on that.

I've never seen that before in my life.

Bullseye, do you know if you shop like at a decent supermarket

you don't have to pay for the trolley.

I think it depends what area you're in.

It does.

It's the area.

Even a decent supermarket.

Sometimes you have to still put your coin in your jolly.

I mean, isn't it sad?

It is sad.

It is stealing trolley.

But people, yeah.

It is a desperate trolley.

Yeah.

Right.

Time for some confessions.

I've never told anyone this.

But good morning, Luana in my own backs.

Loyalist in the hair.

I listen to lovely ladies every morning while getting myself ready for work.

And you always put me in the best mood first thing in the morning.

They say to say, I love the potty and all that.

After every episode I always think if I have any embarrassing stories that I could send in.

And it's finally come to me while trying to go to sleep.

And I had to email in straight away.

I work as a dental nurse.

And if you didn't know, dental practices usually have a small group of staff members,

which includes dental nurse, dentist, receptionist and one to two managers.

I started my career in a very small practice when I was 18,

which I had to commute 40 minutes each way every day.

I always struggled to get out of work for appointments or for personal reasons due to it taking up to an hour to get home and back.

And apparently they could not spare me for this long.

During one lunch break, I felt a rumble in my tummy and immediately had intense pain.

I knew that the moment I had come, I would have to go for a poo in work.

There were two toilets in the building, one in the staff room, one upstairs next to the offices,

which was rarely used.

So I sneakily crept out the stairs to realise the monster that was growing in my stomach.

After successfully destroying the toilet upstairs, all while going on notice, I went to flush.

After the water settled, there was my huge dump nestled at the bottom of the toilet.

I searched around this tiny bathroom for anything to try and get my massive shite to disappear.

I did contemplate scooping out of the toilet, but realised I would have no idea to do that.

My plan was then to get some hot water and hope that it broke it down to get rid of the evidence that I'd actually had to do a poo.

That's a good strategy.

I left the bathroom and my lunch break had ended and I had to get back in surgery to see our patients say the poo had to wait.

I was such a busy afternoon that I completely forgot about my abandoned poo until the next day

I was helping the receptionist when our oldest and most outspoken nurse came down the stairs

and announced to the whole practice that some dirty pig would use the toilet.

That's a shite for everyone to see.

I put on my best performance and joined in.

My colleagues sent her to dusting it while vaulting.

Later that day I heard other whispers, others whispering, that one of the new dentists used that toilet regularly

and it was a hundred percent her.

I just sat there and knotted along and I let this poor girl take the blame for my abandoned shite.

I managed to go two years in that place without a soul knowing it was me who did this mystery poo

and was involved in several conversations.

About who it would have been, this still makes me giggle when I think of this

and I actually cannot still believe that I got away with it.

Thanks a key for me saying lots of love.

The owner of the mystery tard.

You just have to keep denying.

To deny.

To deny.

To deny.

To deny.

That's so funny.

Next confession, reflecting on the confession about slots.

Oh yes, do you remember?

Oh yeah, the dad pretended to go up to slots.

I have an update.

Do you?

Go on.

This isn't it.

But someone alerted me that they think that someone banned to stole the slots story.

Oh.

Oh.

I know.

Because it was so much sugar.

Don't tell us that.

I tell that.

I let us live in the belief.

I thought you were going to say I've got an update.

No, no.

The dad's love of the sloth.

Yeah.

Loving life.

I mean, we like to believe that.

So she went, I realize I've done something similar with penguins.

My husband and I have been together for 14 years.

And when we first started dating, he mentioned that he liked penguins.

As an 18-year-old wanting to impress him, I pretended to love them too.

Over the years, I've ended up with penguin-themed items like cardinets, jammers, mugs.

I even participated in a private feeding experience with penguins, which was quite an ordeal.

Feeding them.

Fish.

Made me gag.

I'd say stink penguins.

And while I was silently struggling, my husband thought I was tearing up from happiness

and hugged me.

I've never told him the truth.

But thankfully, the penguin obsession is down.

But love it.

Please give me a made-up name.

Penny-guin.

Imagine if I'd just been making it up about horses this whole time.

Hold time.

And we met with her donkeys.

I did tell her about the donkey thing as she was laughing.

Oh, dear.

Well, that is it for this week's Lurana Touchy Extra.

We will, of course, back on Monday with your usual dose of Lurana.

Please do keep bringing the brilliant stories and the great content.

Our email is Lurana at everythinglurana.com.

I'm not so excited to see what's up.

Or a voice note on numbers.

075-620-215-640.

Very good.

We remember that.

We did.

I've followed us guys if you haven't already.

We'd also love you to share.

Any of our episodes with some friends who you think might find it funny or need some advice

that we've perhaps given out.

Or just, you know, have their day brightened up.

So do share our episodes as well.

Love you lots.

Have a fabulous, bloody week.

Bye-bye.