Tuesday Jan 17, 2006

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God, damn, bugger, bollocks, hell.

Despite the apparent Austen-ness of my name I am not easily, nor happily, reconciled with the spinsterish celibate character with which I have been cast.

So dearest Authour of this Divine Comedy, whom-so-ever you may be, could you please try a little less Bronte, and a little more Beardsley as you sketch out the plot for 2006?

(I confess I almost mistook your much hyped 2005 release as an additional chapter of Pilgrim's Progress and have already banished it to the charity bin.)

If you do not heed my plaintive cry I fear I may lapse into tubercular-Kafkaist despair...
VIEW 10 of 10 COMMENTS
neurotica:
Miss Bikini Model 2005. Oh, the bilious ignominy. I used to live with a particularly inane, coke-afflicted Ralph girl - complete dullard, thank Christ; if she had had a platitudinous IQ on top of those tits, I would have been all the more appalled - who seemed to enjoy mocking my short pallid, lack of photogenic prowess by sauntering around the place, clad in little but a transparent v-string. I'm surprised you slept at all - I needed the parents' auspicious labradoodle's body weight in soporifics just to relax enough to eye off my brothers' sinister tableau of plasticized harem-girls without lapsing into complete hysteria.

No Bronte. I won't bloody have it, unless it's bastardized in Kate Bush form. 2005 was a little Norman Mailer cum Henry Miller for me - this year I'm trying for Stella Gibbons, or at least something vaguely wholesome. Like Graham Greene. Er.
morgannahh:
Hey Missy....so we doing this girls night out or what? I need a naughty night out with the girls...Let me know when your free & as Blacklamb said, we'll get some trouser action...biggrin

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