My friend, Gigglesworth, sent an email in which she wrote the following regarding the upcoming big move south:
I fear that this blog will become less funny in the months to come. It will probably be splattered with complaints of loneliness as I struggle to find my footing. Hopefully, funny anecdotes will still find its way here.
This has to be my most un-funny post. Perhaps, I will sign off with something humourous for old times sake.
Think. Think of something funny. The audience awaits.
Oh, yes. At the wedding of High School Rival and Chubby Solicitor last Sunday -- for which I looked so devastatingly luscious that I kind of felt bad for the bride -- we were given soap bubbles to blow instead of throwing confetti after the ceremony. The child in me was very excited; colourful bubbles in the sunlight! I haven't had such a delight since childhood!
The bridal party was late due to the bride's father sudden loss of directions. Suspicious, considering he's taxi driver. But I was happy at the opportunity to play with the soap bubbles that came in a miniature keepsake bottle.
Pop! went the dove shaped lid. Shit! said Polly as bottle slipped out of her hand and all the soapy liquid spilt down the front of her outrageously beautiful pink silk ruffled dress.
As High School Rival and Chubby Solicitor promised to grow old together, I sheepishly tried to pretend that I was not a two-year-old who had just peed down the front of my dress.
I think ------ is an arse. Not worth losing sleep over. You've got that wonderful adventure ahead of you in Melbourne.But as the date draws nearer, I am dreading it more. I even think that the aforementioned hot football players are not as enticing as the familiar friends in Sydney. A well toned six-pack has nothing over Pixie's sardonic conversations. Nor does it beat the Mallavian Whiz's unbelievably strange and yet obliging ways.
And don't forget the AFL hotties!!!!!!!!!!!! Too hot!!!
I fear that this blog will become less funny in the months to come. It will probably be splattered with complaints of loneliness as I struggle to find my footing. Hopefully, funny anecdotes will still find its way here.
This has to be my most un-funny post. Perhaps, I will sign off with something humourous for old times sake.
Think. Think of something funny. The audience awaits.
Oh, yes. At the wedding of High School Rival and Chubby Solicitor last Sunday -- for which I looked so devastatingly luscious that I kind of felt bad for the bride -- we were given soap bubbles to blow instead of throwing confetti after the ceremony. The child in me was very excited; colourful bubbles in the sunlight! I haven't had such a delight since childhood!
The bridal party was late due to the bride's father sudden loss of directions. Suspicious, considering he's taxi driver. But I was happy at the opportunity to play with the soap bubbles that came in a miniature keepsake bottle.
Pop! went the dove shaped lid. Shit! said Polly as bottle slipped out of her hand and all the soapy liquid spilt down the front of her outrageously beautiful pink silk ruffled dress.
As High School Rival and Chubby Solicitor promised to grow old together, I sheepishly tried to pretend that I was not a two-year-old who had just peed down the front of my dress.
Post a Comment