A note from Georgia
Hello once again, my Chummly Wummlies!
Once again I have harnessed my genius and creativosity just for you, to bring you this work of pure brilliance. Gird your loins! It is going to be tres belle, as our wise friends the Italians say. Or is it the French? I don't know. Stop harassing me!
Anyway, I think I deserve a medal. Or at least a small medalette. I could hang it on my wall, and then everyone who came in could admire it and say: "what a tres interesting and talented person you are, Georgia. You truly are a genius of the first water."
So, there we have it. I have truly been drained of my creative juices (oo-er) and therefore have nothing further to say. Au revoir, and remember, never trust a person with a fringe.
p.s. Unless of course, it is me.
p.p.s. Btw, no offence meant to those of you with fringes.
p.p.p.s. Btw means By the way, btw.
p.p.p.p.s I am, of course, when I talk about twits with fringes, referring to the Wise Woman of the Forest.
p.p.p.p.p.s i.e, Jas.
Px6s. So don't sue me for making fun of fringes, that's all. Just saying.
A Special Home for Les Idiots
Saturday
evening
In my room
Bewildered
9:40 pm
Blimey O'Reilly!
That is all I have to say.
9:41 pm
This must be the first time I have come home early from a party. Ever. Vati was quite amazed when I came through the door. He nearly choked on his mad beard.
He said, "Are you feeling quite alright? Have you come down with something? O.B.D., for example?"
"Vati," I said calmly. "I hate to have to ask, but what in the name of Our Lord Sandra's pantyhose is an O.B.D?"
Then Vati said. "Obsessive Boy Disorder." And he started snorting and snuffling with laughter to himself. Honestly. It is a well-known fact that only the very mad laugh at their own jokes. Particularly when nobody else is laughing. He should be transferred into a special home for les idiots.
9:50
Anyway, what was it I was Blimey O'Reillying about, before my Vati so rudely interrupted? Ah, yes. Masimo.
Masimo and the (almost) fisticuffs at dawn type-affair.
One minute later
One minute I was
doing the twist with Dave, the next Masimo was saying: "Right, O
Matio, you, me, outside, now," in his
sexy Italian voice. Then Dave and Masimo were circling each other
outside, fists raised, the full monty (oo-er). They really were about
to duff each other up. That was, of course, when I had an epiphany
whatsit, and yelled:
"Stop! In the name of PANTS!"
And Masimo roared off (on his scooter, obvs. I don't mean he went off, roaring) and Dave just laughed and walked away. And that brings us to now. i.e, in my room.
10:30 pm
Still in my room, still bewildered.
I think I might just have been dumped. There I was, hanging out in the cake shop of luuurve, when all of a sudden my Italian cakey decided to grow legs and take a little stroll. He really has the full Humpty Dumpty. Meanwhile, Dave the tart is still tarting about, and the Robbie éclair (which I have, most deffos, eschewed with a firm hand) has gone off with a wet weed.
Two minutes later
What could possibly be so wrong with me?
One minute later
Don't answer that.
10:45 pm
Phoned Jas.
"Jas?"
"Mmm - what is it, Georgia? I'm busy."
"Busy doing what? Counting your twig collection?"
"No, actually. I counted them yesterday. Right now I'm arranging my sock drawer."
Unbelievable. I put the phone down.
Two minutes later
I called her
back.
"Jas? I really don't give a God's pyjamas about your
socks; so don't waste your breath. I need you to be a really good
pally, and tell me exactly what happened after I left."
"Well."
"Yes?"
"Nothing."
"What do you mean, nothing?"
"I mean – nothing!"
"Jas, you are being an idiot. Tell me what happened. Just plain English would be fine."
"But that's just it – nothing happened. Everyone just went on dancing, and carried on as normal."
This can't be right.
"You mean, nobody cared? Asked how I was, or anything?"
"Well, no."
And she calls herself my mate.
"Right. Well. You sympathise with me, don't you? Masimo has the full bananas Humpty Dumpty with me."
"Well. No. That's what you get for being a tart. But you're right, I would really hate to be you."
I said, "Goodnight, Po. Thank you for all your help." But I said it tres sarcastically, and slammed the phone down straight afterwards.
Sunday 21st
up
at the crack of 11am
"Gingeeeeeey!"
Oh, dear Lord.
"Gingey, it's morning! No more beddie byes for you!"
My darling sister, a.k.a. Libby, has just come bursting into the room, equipped, of course, with Our Lord Sandra, Mr Cheese (who is, believe it or not, a piece of cheese) and scuba-diving Barbie.
"Ginger?"
I sighed. "Yes, Bibbs?"
"Where is my Davey?"
Good question. Last night Dave just walked off, which I consider vair, vair rude.
"He's not here, Libby."
"Why not?"
"Because he doesn't live here."
"Is he your
boyfen?" Libby said, whilst shoving Mr Cheese down my ear.
NO,
NO and THRICE no! Dave is most certainly not my 'boyfen'. Nope.
Not at all. Not even close.
"No, Bibbs, he isn't."
"Why NOT?"
"Because – well. Just because."
"Bad Ginger," said Libby. She gave me a little 'kiss' on the forehead, but it was more like being sucked up by a hoover. Like I was getting a kiss from noo-noo, the hoover in the teletubbies. How delightful.
12:00pm
I said to Mutti, "I'm going out with the Ace Gang." This was true; I had called an emergency meeting, vis a vis the duffing up incident. Then I was out of the door as quick as a whatsit, before she could complain or ask any unnecessary questions (like why I was using her Chanel handbag).
Jas'
house
ten minutes later
"Well," I said, "we all know why we're here."
Jas got all excited. "That reminds me, while we're here, I'd like to show you my sock drawer. I colour co-ordinated it, see - "
"Jas," I said, lobbing a stuffed owl at her. "Shuttup."
She gave me an angry look, but stopped speaking.
"So," Jools said. "Did Masimo break up with you?"
"I think he - " I broke off. I had just noticed Rosie had her beard on. Also sideburns.
Rosie saw me staring. She smiled and touched her sidies.
"They're great, aren't they?" she said. "I got them at the costume shop."
"Were there any others in stock?" Mabs said excitedly. "We could all get matching ones!"
"HELLO?" I practically yelled. It was supposed to be all about me here, not Rosie's mad hair obsession (which was, incidentally, beginning to worry me).
"Sorry," they all muttered.
"Thank you," I sniffed, full of dignosity. "Now, as I was saying. Masimo has the full on humpty dumpty, but he won't do for long, if my elastic band plan works."
The Ace gang all looked at each other.
"This doesn't involve red herrings, does it?" Jas said nervously, playing with her fringe. Shuttup, fringey. "Look what happened last time." And she stared pointedly at me. She really shouldn't do that. Her eyes go all bulgy and she looks like one of her precious newts.
"Jas," I replied, calmly. "I am not, however much you love to think it, a complete idiot. It's going to be different this time. It's going to be the mother of all plans. It will be the plan of plans. It will be the plan to end all plans."
"But, you haven't actually thought of a plan yet, have you?"
"Oh, picky picky, Jas. We'll cross that bridge when we come to it. No, the real question here is, what do I wear?"
