‘… then he ate my boy entrancers.’. Louise Rennison

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‘… then he ate my boy entrancers.’ - Louise  Rennison

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here comes Supercat with Naomi. With his head up her bottom as ususal.

      One minute later

      Aha! He has removed his head and he has seen the new fencey. He luuurves the fencey.

      Four minutes later

      Old Nimble Paws did this beyond-fabby thing. He did a vertical jump! From standing on the wall he just shot straight up in the air and over the fence.

      Five minutes later

      Angus is really getting into it now. He leaps over the anti-cat fence and then comes back into our garden by hurling himself through Mr Next Door’s rhododendron bush. Excellent! He has made it into a track-and-field event. It is quite literally the Cat Olympics.

      Five minutes later

      I would prefer it if Naomi stuck to the usual giving of medals ceremony rather than licking Angus’s trouser-snake area, but there you are – that is appalling furry tarts for you.

      Monday May 9th

      The crack of 8:00 a.m.

      Crikey. I’d better not get carried away with happiness, otherwise I will be on time for school, or Stalag 14 as I so amusingly call it.

      8:25 a.m.

      Lolloping along to Jas’s place, I had to pass by Mark Big Gob smoking on the corner with his lardy mates. He is quite literally a mouth on legs. Sadly he seems to have recovered his former (crap) self after the minor duffing-up incident with Dave the Laugh.

      He just can’t help himself, especially when, like now, he has the backup lardy lads with him. As I walked by in a dignified manner, trying not to let anything jiggle about, BG and the lard arses were just ogling my nungas like ogling oglers (if you can imagine the horror of that, and I think you can). Then he licked his lips! Erlack, he was licking his lips at me!

      He is so très pathetico.

      I may have to ask Dave to repeat the duffing-up incident.

      Five minutes later

      Jas was on her wall. I don’t know what she had for breakfast but she has put on about twelve stone. Either that or her knickers have reached elephantine size.

      When she jumped down, I saw it was because she had her skirt rolled over so much that she looked like a melon with a head and an annoying fringe in a school uniform.

      She said, “My mum and dad want to come round to yours to talk about the arrangements.”

      “I must rush home and make them normal. Your mum and dad will never let you come with us if Dad happens to be wearing his masonic apron…or his velvet loons that he wears for ‘grooving’ in. No one in their right mind would let a child of theirs anywhere near him.”

      Stalag 14

      Hawkeye was on glaring duty at the school gates, so Jas had to do a quick dive behind me to let her skirt down. She was fiddling away as we walked along, so to distract Hawkeye with my youth and exuberance I started singing, “Oh, what a beautiful mornin’, oh what a—”

      “Why are you shuffling along like idiots? Put a spring in your step!”

      I started doing a bit of springing for a laugh, but then she said, “Georgia, I have been glancing at your report card and it seems to me a bit of extra tuition wouldn’t come amiss.”

      Bloody sacré bleu! I scuttled off to the loos as fast as I could.

      Jas was pouting at herself in the mirror as I grumbled on. “‘Glancing at your report card’. What kind of life is that? You might as well have a life ‘glancing at paint drying’ or ‘glancing at a cactus not doing anything’, or…anyway, it is no kind of a life for a human being. Which is why Hawkeye is so vair vair good at it.”

      Jas was now upside down under the hand dryer getting maximum voluminosity into her fringe for the day ahead, but she nodded her head wisely, in an upside-down way.

      Assembly

      Usual routine: Klingon salute to the Ace Gang, a quick burst of “The Lord is my shepherd” and then some incomprehensible lecture from Slim, our huge headmistress. What is she rambling on about now? She has certainly excelled herself on the fashion front this morning. Polka-dot suit in a lovely subtle orange and black, and sling-back shoes. Parts of her feet have made a desperate bid for freedom out of the sling-back bit. I’ve never known anyone with fat feet. It’s fascinating watching her. When she loses her rag (i.e. every time she speaks to us) every bit of her quivers in a tip-top jelloid way.

      “So to my point, girls: achievement. What does it mean today in the modern world? I want you all to consider what achievement really means.”

      Then she stood there and looked at us. For ages. We stood looking back. She just stood there; we just stood there. Like a staring competition. Good Lord. It went on for ages and ages – you could practically see Miss Stamp’s beard growing. Two centuries later, Slim said, “How many of us could put our hands on our hearts and say ‘I have achieved something really worthwhile this term.’?”

      Me and Rosie put our hands on our hearts.

      Corridor 9:30 a.m.

      Oh bloody marvy. Wet Lindsay, who was stick-insecting around on snitcher duty, saw us with our hands on our hearts and is gave us her world famous ‘How childish you are’ lecture. Ho hum, pig’s bum. Another fabulous opportunity to look at Mrs No Forehead.

      9:36 a.m.

      Hahahahaha! While Wet Lindsay was telling us off, me and Rosie kept our eyes fixed on her forehead. She couldn’t say we were doing anything wrong, but afterwards she scuttled off to the loos for forehead inspection.

      The staring campaign continues!

      And she doesn’t know I am off to America to a Snog Fest with the Luuurve God.

      I said to Rosie as we ambled off to the Science block, “He probably only took her to Late and Live because he is in the European Union for the preservation of rare species.”

      Rosie said, “What? The ‘No Forehead Stick-insect Fighting Fund’?”

      “Absolutemento mon pally.”

      We are indeed vair vair amusant.

      Blodge

      Miss Baldwin has got gigantic basoomas. Even bigger than my mutti’s, and that is saying something. I was very much afraid that she would set fire to them with the Bunsen burner. Sadly there was no basooma incendiary action, so I couldn’t

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