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September 9th, 2010
I had forgotten how often I get assulted by sexual innuendos over the holidays. Mostly because my family have never heard the words 'That's what she said' mentioned in conversation. School is just a minefield of innuendos waiting to come out (no pun intended) and in my case, that is very often. The thing is, even if you think about what you say, it sounds totally innocent until someone around you goes "EW THAT'S DISGUSTING, HOW COULD YOU EVER SAY SOMETHING LIKE THAT??" and then you realise that you could have been a bit choosier with your choice of vocabulary.
January 14th, 2010
A month to Valentine's Day and he's got it all planned out... six weeks ago. He'd take her to the rooftop of Esplanade, present her with her favourite flowers (he has yet to find out what they are so let's keep that in view) and play her her favourite song on the guitar, which he'd taken months to learn and practise. He hasn't planned what he wants to say to her exactly, knowing he'd probably end up stammering and stuttering a lot. He says he'll call and let me know what happens after. I'm crossing my fingers for good news.
December 3rd, 2009
Santa sat in my front room, beer in hand. I knew I’d been had. Since when did Santa speak French and smoke cigarettes? A closer inspection revealed a crop of black hair hiding under the cheap white wig. Dammit! This wasn’t Santa, the bringer of gifts, the John Frum of the cargo cult that is Christmas. It was my crummy Auntie Annemarie. In Yuletide drag. I would get even. I got out my pencil and dashed off a letter to the North Pole. Once news of this unauthorized impersonation got out, there would be no more Molson Canadians for her.