Doughnuts and dunces

I went to a friend's party yesterday (hi, Ruth, I know you're reading this :D ) and it was brilliant! Being ever the original lady, Ruth decided the theme should be that we all go dressed as something beginning with "R"- I think this somehow indirectly turned out to be an indirect ploy to cause me and my friend Jack (Ruth's significant nutter) as much humiliation as possible. I went as a Racer (full leathers, including bodysuit and gloves) and Jack went as Ruth. Hello, Jack, you look wonderful in a skirt and luminous pink tights.
Jack proceeded to lock himself in the toilet. The lock broke. I fell about laughing at the prospect of the only guy at the party actually being stuck in a bathroom... Wearing girls' clothes. It was great. We have pictures of his horrified face after they had to get a circular saw to cut through the lock to get him out. AMAZING pictures. A scared guy in a skirt! Priceless.

Anyway, as I said, the theme was R. I was a Racer, with Runner underneath for when it got hot (full leathers, cut me some slack!). Jack had socks stuffed down his top. Other friends came as Russians, Rock Stars, Roger Federer, a Rancher, a Red Indian, Robin Hood, Retro (this was Ruth improvising after her foil robot attempt was, er, foiled) and a Rabbit. Suffice to say it was great. There were pigs... And sausages, prompting my possibly bastardy comment of "They're so cute! But soooooo tasty..."

I was persuaded by the others to stay over. Spare sleeping bag, check. Comfyness, check.

Waking up at seven thirty this morning and realising, to my great detriment (and everyone else's joy), that I would be forced to wear the full leather suit all day, was not so fun. Funny, yes. But when you have four gruelling hours of school to battle through, it's not so wonderful. Jack said he was expecting a funny blog. Helloooo! I've been fucking asked every five minutes, "VICKY?! YOU ride a motorbike?!". At which point, my answer was always simply the words, "Costume party, no change of clothes, mandatory school". Walking into German this morning was priceless, Herr N. laughed. Thankfully there are only four people in my class today so not so bad. But yeah, I went home at lunch (no bunking, lessons had thankfully finished by then) and peeled off what has to be one of the worst school outfits I have EVER worn.

I have only two things to say: One, we need a mandatory day where everyone comes in dressed as something beginning with the same first letter as their name, and two, having Eton Mess for breakfast is AWESOME!

Happy reading, folks!

Puns with punch

I'm making these up. The person who comes up with the best one gets a hug; sorry, no more money for chocolate as of yet!!

Q: What makes 'Dim' and 'getting a tattoo done' the same?
A: They're both annoying little pricks *hee joke Dim*

If you fed your pet budgie chicken, could that be considered cannibalism?

I'm sure there are a few more in my head, such as...

Q: Why shouldn't you throw knives when angry?
A: Because you might miss.

I'm of unicorn descent, that's why I'm always so horny.

Oh Dim, why are you always so twisted and horny? "Ah, me mother was a whirlpool and me father was a rhinocerous!"

well, I be a dominatrix elf, so no worries there.

Q: what is irony?
A: a bit like silvery and goldy but fuckloads less expensive.

a: sarcasm is the lowest from of wit
b: I really care about what you say sometimes.
a: you do? Aw, thanks.
b: jeez, you're such a waste of hot air. Give it to George Bush.

REMEMBER: you get a hug. A nice hug.