Author's Notes.

I don't own the Georgia Nicolson books.

Or anything else. Such as The Mighty Boosh.

This chapter is a bit weird.

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Chapter five. 'I am about to be eaten by Jas' fringe!'

Geoggers. 11:05am.

Mrs Whatsername is giving us a quiz on the rainforest.

Jas actually doesn't know the answers for once!

But she's having a ditherspaz over that fact that she's getting them wrong.

Tres amusante.

--

Merde. Now she's flicking her fringe like crazy.

--

Writing notes to mon tremendous pallys:

Jools + Rosie xx

Bonjour!

Save me from Jas' fringe please.

We should attack it with hairspray and

hairclips.

Or just...

save yourselves!

Your nearly deceased friend,

Gee xx

I can see them laughing on the other side of the classroom.

Rosie mouthed to me, 'I think you may have gone insane!'.

It is not funny.

I am about to be eaten by Jas' fringe!

Blodge. 2:40pm.

Teacher yet again having a fit because I'm writing.

Haha, Rosie just told me there's two people snogging outside the window.

We are now trying to figure out what number they're up to.

Hmm.

3:05pm.

Doing a poster with Jas.

Y'know what?

She can't cut a straight line! This is tres amusante.

I stand corrected. She can't draw a straight line. (with a ruler!)

- This she pointed out to me.

3:45pm. Walking home with the Ace Gang.

Must be full of glaciosity and maturiosity.

Bugger it.

We are laughing like loons on loon tablets.

Jools just burst out with 'Come with us now, on a journey through time and space, to the world of fringes and red bottomosity. Come with us to The Land Of Jas, come with us to The Land Of Jas'.

Tres amusante I think. Jas doesn't. She has gone off in a huff and will probably be giving us the cold shoulder later.

Jools has got a dinner date with one of her ex-boyfriends (who left her to snog koalas in Australia!) tonight.

She is so convinced that it's not a date.

The rest of us think it is.

Personally, if one of my boyfriends did anything like that, I would give them the cold shoulder for eternity. Then they'd be pleading to get me back.

Well, me, minus the tremendously huge conk.