‘… and that’s when it fell off in my hand.’. Louise Rennison
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is so ludicrously pleased with himself.
And Mutti was as bad. All dillydollyish and also she had a tiny skirt on. At least she had on a skirt though, unlike Libby, who was in the nuddy-pants.
8:00 PM
In the end they all went off, including Angus, who I actually thought was driving the car at first. He had his paws on the steering wheel and was looking straight ahead. Even though I am on the rack of love, it did make me laugh. Then Vati’s head popped up. Not content with the humiliatorosity of the Robin Reliant clown car, Vati also bought a Second World War flying helmet and goggles.
As they drove off, he wound down the window and shouted, “Chocks away!!!”
What does Mutti see in him? He must have been like this when she met him. Which means, in essence, that she likes porky blokes with badgers on their chins who are clearly mental.
At this rate I am going to spend the rest of my life with them, so I should get used to it, I suppose.
8:05 p.m.
I can’t. I would rather plunge my head into a basket of whelks.
8:10 p.m.
What is it with boys?
I may do some research on them for my part in MacUseless or The Och Aye Play.
I may as well, as my so-called mates can’t be bothered to ring me.
8:30 p.m.
Phone rang.
If it’s Dave the Laugh, I am going to give him the full force of my glaciosity. I hate boys.
It was Rosie.
“Gee?”
“Oh hi, I’m glad you rang because I am sooo—”
“Did you hear about the dog who went into a pub and said to the barman, ‘Can I have a pint and a bag of crisps please?’”
“Rosie, I don’t-”
“The barman said, ‘Blimey, that’s brilliant. There’s a circus in town. You should go and get a job.’”
“Rosie, I have-”
“And the dog said, ‘Why? Do they need electricians?’”
And she slammed down the phone.
I am seriously worried about her dwindling sanity. I’d just got back upstairs to my bed of pain when the phone rang again. Why can’t we have a portable fandango thing or, alternatively, a servant called Juan who answers it?
Is it so much to ask?
This time it was Ellen.
“Georgia, it’s me. I was, you know… for the party. Well, do you… think I… well, if you were me, would you or would you just kind of, you know… or not?”
What in the name of Hitler’s pants and matching bra set is she on about?
“Ellen, how can I put this? What in the name of arse are you talking about?”
“Dave the Laugh, should I, you know, well, would you?”
Oh marvellous, I have to be Wise Woman of the Forest for my mates. Also it reminded me that if Ellen found out about the Dave the Laugh snogging scenarios, there might well be fisticuffs at dawn.
Still, I am not God and also I am very very busy with my own problems. My lurking lurker has to be dealt with before it makes a surprise appearance. Not that I will ever be going out again anyway. My lurker could grow to the size of my head if it wanted to. Erlack, now I feel sick.
Ellen was rambling on and on about Dave the Laugh and how to entice him and so on. In the end, in sheer desperadoes, I said, “Look, do you know why Dave the Laugh is called, you know, Dave the Laugh?”
Ellen said, “Er. No, why is that?”
I am being pushed to the limits of my nicosity, but I tried, God knows I tried.
“He’s called that because he likes a laugh, and well, to be frank, Ellen, you are a bit lacking vis-à-vis the laughometer scale.”
9:00 p.m.
I wish when I am speaking complete and utter bollocks people would not take me seriously. It’s not my fault that I have advised Ellen to develop an infectious laugh, is it? Oh, I am so tired.
9:30 p.m.
By the time the Circus Family came home, I was tucked up in my bed with the lights off. Not that it makes any difference whatsoever.
Sure enough, it was tramp, tramp up the stairs. Open door, blinding light as Mutti switched it on. Swiss Family Mad came and sat on my bed. Angus now had the goggles on and a scarf round his neck.
Mutti said, “Oh, it was really good fun, Georgie.”
Libby got in bed with me and started prodding my lurker, going, “Spottie bottie boy.”
Then Vati came in. Into my bedroom. He was looking at me and I was only wearing my pyjamas.
I said, “Did anyone notice that my light was off and that I was asleep? Did anyone get that?”
But they just went on chattering and giggling, and Vati was playing tickly bears with Libby and Mutti.
Please save me.
Thursday March 10th Maths
I am going to have to kill Rosie – she is soo overexcited about the return of Sven. Every time Miss Stamp turns round she does mad disco dancing. Miss Stamp turned round a bit sharpish and caught Rosie nodding her head like a loon. She said, “Rosemary Mees, what are you doing?”
Rosie said, “I was agreeing with your excellent point on the roundness of circles.”
She got a bad conduct mark for cheek, but she is still as mad as a hen.
She sent me a note: What swings round and round a cathedral wrapped in cellophane?
I tried to ignore her but she kept looking and raising her eyebrows until I thought she would have a nervy spaz. So I mouthed back, “What?” and she sent another note:The lunchpack of Notre Dame.
Dear God, am I never to be free?
English
Oh rave on, rave on. Not content with boring us to death with MacUseless, we are also doing two more books. Wuthering Heights, or Blithering Heights, as we call it, and Samuel Pepys’ Diary, about this horrifically boring bloke called Samuel Pepys. He quite literally, from what I can gather, peeps about. He just looks up ladies’ skirts most of the time and says “prithee”. Still, we all have to accept he is a genius. On the plus side, the dirty bits will make Miss Wilson go completely spazoid.
4:30 p.m.
Walking home with Jas and Rosie when we saw Dave the Laugh and Rollo and Tom. Jas went ludicrously girlish, even though she has been seeing Hunky for about a zillion years. I should know – I am like that bloke, Pepys’s mate… Boswell, who had to write down all the boring stuff that Pepys did because he was his secretary or something.
I could write a diary about Jas: “Prithee it bee Thursdayee and Missee Jas gotte uppee this morning and puttee