Dave the Laugh's Birthday
6:45, Sunday: Loonfest mode. Mon ami, or rather NOT mon ami (as the case may be) rang at 6:30 this morning.
Vati got the phone and was in a vair vair sarkological mode. 'Georgia, it's one of your little friends. Quick, it's an emergency - I think she's broken a fingernail.' Sacre bloody-blues bleu. One day I shall set Angus on him.
It was Double Loon Ellen lisping down the phone 'Georgia, Georgia, you know it's kind of-'
'Ah oui. Dave the Laugh's Anniversary of Laughinosity. Ellen, you know it's a leetle bit early. In fact it's the crack of dawn, if you didn't realise.' Trying to hide my red bottom by changing the subjectosity, as it was still tingling from that long ago nip libbling at the fish party. At least my lovely scarlet bum-bum was not visible to the Quadruple Loon.
'Well,' continued The Wet Loon, 'you know I'm kind of like...well sort of...Dave's girlfriend?' Zut alors, I'd be half as old as Vati (vair vair ancient) by the time Sergeant Loon finished.
'Oui.'
'Well...kind of...you know it's his party today...You know, sort of...Do I have a special position as his girlfriend. And...well...I've got a picture of me for him, but maybe, you know, aftershave. You know...that's what I heard...uh...you know?'
I wouldn't have known what she was on about if you'd thumped Libby's Mr Potato Head at me.
'Maybe...' Madame Lune continued. 'Well, you see, I'm not sure if we might get on to Number 3. Then it would show that my ungenerosity is very obviosity if I only gave him a photo as a present.'
Well, I can understand that. Even Libby would prefer aftershave to a snappy snap of Loon City's Queen.
6:45, Sunday: Loonfest mode. Mon ami, or rather NOT mon ami (as the case may be) rang at 6:30 this morning.
Vati got the phone and was in a vair vair sarkological mode. 'Georgia, it's one of your little friends. Quick, it's an emergency - I think she's broken a fingernail.' Sacre bloody-blues bleu. One day I shall set Angus on him.
It was Double Loon Ellen lisping down the phone 'Georgia, Georgia, you know it's kind of-'
'Ah oui. Dave the Laugh's Anniversary of Laughinosity. Ellen, you know it's a leetle bit early. In fact it's the crack of dawn, if you didn't realise.' Trying to hide my red bottom by changing the subjectosity, as it was still tingling from that long ago nip libbling at the fish party. At least my lovely scarlet bum-bum was not visible to the Quadruple Loon.
'Well,' continued The Wet Loon, 'you know I'm kind of like...well sort of...Dave's girlfriend?' Zut alors, I'd be half as old as Vati (vair vair ancient) by the time Sergeant Loon finished.
'Oui.'
'Well...kind of...you know it's his party today...You know, sort of...Do I have a special position as his girlfriend. And...well...I've got a picture of me for him, but maybe, you know, aftershave. You know...that's what I heard...uh...you know?'
I wouldn't have known what she was on about if you'd thumped Libby's Mr Potato Head at me.
'Maybe...' Madame Lune continued. 'Well, you see, I'm not sure if we might get on to Number 3. Then it would show that my ungenerosity is very obviosity if I only gave him a photo as a present.'
Well, I can understand that. Even Libby would prefer aftershave to a snappy snap of Loon City's Queen.