Daphne's frog kissing plan backfired rather spectacularly...
I have many, wonderful, varied, even bonkers friends. One such delightfully daft individual has been bestowed the honour of becoming my second honorary younger sister. She's an immensely talented, troubled little twerp and has finally made herself and her art available for all the world to see. Well, she rambles on about all sorts of batshit crazy, she takes beautiful pictures (except of course, for her fixation on birds) and occasionally even makes some sense. And then there's her guitaring and singing wizardry, which are both awkward and serene at the same time. She goes by many names, mostly inspired by her choice of hair colour that week; Strawberry Shortcake, Half Pint, and most recently Smurfette.
Go check out the mad musings and atrophic art of my little deranged genius sister.
Speaking of honest to goodness doolalliness, I am allowing an entire coven of hens into my abode this weekend. I know. It sounds like an orgy conceived by Hugh Heffner, but nothing could be further from the truth. For starters, I'm not even going to be there. Also, it's being organised by The Hot Girlfriend. Yes folks, she has successfully chucked me out of my own house so she and her girlfriends can have a slumber party. And I agreed...
Anyway, onto the other talking point of the day...
Sir Alex Ferguson has announced his retirement from his position as manager at Manchester United Football Club. He has been at the helm of one of the most legendary clubs in world football for 26 years and has won every trophy available, many several times. He is the most celebrated and decorated manager in the English game's rich history and worshipped by the legions of United fans the world over. I have had the good fortune to be a United supporter since 1981, so I've had the benefit of enjoying the success of his tenure in its entirety. I even have a few of his biographies. Interesting man...
Even if you're a fan of a rival club, you have to acknowledge his extraordinary achievements. Anything less would be juvenile jealousy. Yet still, the yobs, Scousers and ABU fans jeer and make tasteless jokes. If he'd been the manager of your club, you'd have hailed him the Messiah.
Anyway, this is my opportunity to say "Thank you. Congratulations. Your tenacity and your talent have done so much for so many, our gratitude and admiration will never be enough."
Unfortunately now we too have become victims of the never ending rumour mill. My sincerest hope is that the new incumbent is afforded the same courtesy as Sir Alex was back in the day in building a sustainable set up at the club we so love. Not like all these other one-hit-wonder, revolving-door-policy shit-shows...
And on that note, That's all folks. Don't be greedy - you've already had one post'o'drivel today. If you'd like to know more about the elusive clitoris, then that's one for you!
In order to redress the imbalance in Cape Town this evening, Little Spoon, LordDoom and I will be forging the darkest, deadliest blast-o-rama of goth/punk/industrial metal you're ever likely to hear. And you ARE likely to hear it too. Fear not, fingers have been dislodged from derrieres.
NGDG: Why do we like Game Of Thrones? Because the villains speak English, not some Hispanic patois comprised exclusively of F-words and gender slurs.
Spread The Love. I'll Be Homeless This Weekend.
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