Stop in the Name of Pants!
6:30 p.m.
If I can’t get the mascara off by Monday, it will give Wet Lindsay an excuse to attack me with a blowtorch or put me on gardening duty with Elvis for the rest of my life.
She’s bound to be there tonight. Poncing around like a ninny.
If I get a chance to warn Robbie about her, I will. I must be cunning and full of subtlenosity.
Clearly I would rather just rip her stupid octopussy head off to save time. But there is bound to be some busybody goodie-goodie who would complain to the Humane Society about it.
leaving home
7:15 p.m.
Dad and Uncle Eddie were tinkering with the Robinmobile as I went off. They are both wearing T-shirts with a picture of Uncle Eddie in his baldy-o-gram costume on the front of them.
And underneath the picture it says, “He dares to baldly go, where no other man has baldly gone before.”
Good grief.
at the honey club
8:30 p.m.
Quick check in the tarts’ wardrobe.
Looking in the mirror.
Hmmmm. Hellloooooo, Sex Kitty. Grrrrrr. A quick splosh of my perfume from Italy that my Italian boyfriend brought me from Italy, which is to the right on the map from Merrie Olde England. Possibly. And then my public is ready for me.
out in the club by the bar
Sven and Rosie have excelled themselves. Their theme tonight is “fur, fur with just a hint of fur.” Did you know you could get matching fake fur jumpsuits? In purple? Well, you do now.
I am a bit nervy actually. This is like my first official outing as the official girlfriend of a Luuurve God. Still, I have my ace mates to keep me company.
ten minutes later
Blimey, I am goosegog girl because all the rest of the gang are with their “boyfriends.” Even Ellen. Although she might be the last to know—or something.
Rom and Jul (otherwise known as Jas ’n’ Tom) are all over each other like a rash. It is quite sweet really. If you like that sort of thing.
No sign of Dave the Laugh and his girlfriend. Which is cool. They have probably gone out somewhere different. How should I know?
They might be round at Emma’s.
You know.
Messing about and so on.
I seem to want to go to the piddly diddly department again.
in the tarts’ wardrobe
Oh marvelous, Wet Lindsay and Astonishingly Dim Monica are in front of the mirrors. I don’t know why they are bothering, Lindsay would need a head transplant to make her look less like octopussy girl.
One thing for sure I am not going into a cubicle and doing a piddly diddly whilst they are looking at me.
back in the club
I said to Rosie, when she was on a snog break, “I wonder where Masimo is?”
And she said, “Why don’t you go backstage in your capacity as girlfriend and say to him, ‘I just came to say “Break a leg,”’ or whatever you say to rock stars? Maybe it’s ‘Break a string’ or ‘Break your trousers.’ I don’t know, but just go say it.”
And then I saw the Stiff Dylans come in with their guitars. They must be due on soon. As soon as they appeared they were surrounded by girls. Or “tarts,” as some people might call them.
two minutes later
The Stiff Dylans were signing autographs. Honestly! Actually signing autographs. I could see the Luuurve God. He was there signing as well. And smiling and chatting to the girls. I wonder if I should go out and get my coat and then come back in again like I had just arrived? I could sneak out and…Then he looked up and saw me. He waved and started coming over.
Hurrah!
Blimey. He has an amazingly cool suit on. I bet it is from Pizza-a-gogo land. When he reached me he put his arms around me and kissed me. Everyone was looking. I felt a bit red actually, I hadn’t done much public snogging. He didn’t even seem to notice the crowd around us, he was just looking in my eyes and he said, “Ciao, cara, I will see you at the break and then after the gig, we go maybe to somewhere we can be together?”
Blimey O’Reilly’s trousers, it’s a bit early to get swoony knickers but I have got them on.
one hour later
The whole place is rocking. The Stiff Dylans have played a cracking set and Robbie has just gone onstage to join them. He is doing sharesies vocals with Masimo on “Don’t wake me up before you go. Just go.” I wonder if Robbie wrote that for Octopussy girl? I would. She is standing looking at him right at the front of the stage.
I said to Jas, “How uncool is that?”
She was too busy smooching with Hunky to bother to reply. Lindsay has given me the evils since I got here but I am not at school now, and also I am with my mates. And also I am the girlfriend of a Luuurve God.
Which is a bit weird actually. Loads of girls that I don’t even know have been coming up to me and saying, “Oooh, isn’t he gorgey, what is it like going out with him?”
“What kind of music does he like?”
“What is his birth sign?”
Etc.
What am I? His press secretary?
I didn’t mention to them that I am in fact a backing dancer.
half an hour later
This is more like it.
The ace gang rides again. We are doing a shortened version of the Viking hornpipe to “Ultraviolet” by the Dylans. We haven’t got any props so we are having to improvise the paddles and so on. It is a hoot and a half.
I waved my (pretend) paddle at Masimo but he didn’t wave back. I suppose it’s a bit difficult when you are playing a guitar. He looked at me, though. I like to think in an admiring way.
two minutes later
Another fast one by the Dylans. Everyone is going mental.
And Dave the Laugh is here!! I only saw him when he came up to me and said, “Let’s twist!!”
And he started doing this mad fast twisting thing. Going down to the floor and then up again. Quite sensationally insane but funny. He was yelling at me, “Come on, kittykat. Get down!!!”
I said, “Not in a million years. Get your girlfriend to make le idiot of herself.”
He shouted, “She’s not here. You can be substitute idiot!! Come on, you know you want to!!!”
Sven and Rosie and the whole gang joined in. So in the end so did I.
It was the best fun!!!
ten minutes later
I am hotter than a hot person on hot tablets. And that is hot, believe me.
The Dylans are just going off for a break and Dave the Laugh has gone to get us some drinks.
two minutes later
I was so full of exhaustiosity that I sat on Roro’s knee. She was sitting on Sven’s knee so it was like a knee sandwich. I said to her, “You have a vair comfy knee, little matey.”
And she said, “Are you on the turn?”
I was just about to hit her when Masimo came up to me. He said, “Georgia, come outside with me.”
Rosie said, “Oo-er.”
And then just at that moment Dave came back with the drinks.
Dave handed me the drink and went, “Yeah, groove on! Nice set, mate.”
Masimo smiled but not a lot, and then he said, “You are enjoying dancing with my girlfriend…mate?”
Dave said, “Oh blimey, this is not fisticuffs at dawn is it?”
Masimo looked a bit puzzled. He said, “What is this fisticuffs?”
And Dave put his drink down on the table and started prancing around doing his impression of Mohammed Ali crossed with a fool.
He was yelling, “I am sooo pretty, I float like a butterfly. Duff duff. Put ’em up, put ’em up.”
He is, it has to be said, bonkers.
I was laughing. We were all laughing except Masimo. He said to Dave, “Oh, I see, ok, we can do it this way. I will see you outside. Mate.”
Dave said, “I’m afraid I am not a homosexualist.”
But Masimo handed his jacket to me and started walking toward the door. Surely he was joking.
Dave looked at me. And shrugged. And then he went outside as well. Blimey.
Jas said to me, “I told you that your big red bottom would get you in trouble and now…you see.”
What what???
I’d just been doing the twist, Masimo didn’t even know about the accidental nearly No. 5 in the woods scenario. I followed them both as they went out of the doors.
In fact most of the people in the club followed us outside.
outside
Masimo said to Dave, “OK, now we sort this out, man to man.”
Were they actually going to fight over me?
I should have liked it. But.
Rosie said to me, “This is just like Rom and Jul, isn’t it? If they were wearing tights. Should we lend them some?”
I said, “Look, look, lads, this is silly. Why don’t you just—”
Masimo was still looking at Dave and he put up both hands like they do in movies and started circling, Dave saying, “Come on.”
Jas said, “Georgia, say something, do something normal and sensible for once.”
Yes, yes, that is what I must do, display maturiosity.
I stepped into the middle of them both and yelled, “STOP!!! STOP…IN THE NAME…OF PANTS!!!!!”
Masimo just looked at me. But Dave the Laugh started falling about laughing.
And Rosie started singing, “The hills are alive with the sound of PANTS! With PANTS I have worn for a thousand years!” And then the ace gang joined in.
Everyone was drifting off now that there was no chance of a fisticuffs extravaganza.
Dave was laughing and turned to Masimo and held out his hand and said, “It’s just a little joke, mate, nothing to get your handbag out for.”
Then Dave said, “Night night, Gee.” And went off.
I smiled at Masimo but he didn’t smile back. He looked at me and he looked really sad.
Donner und blitzen.
And also pipi.
And krappe.
I started to go over to him and he turned away from me and walked off into the night.
two minutes later
My Luuurve God has got the hump.
In fact he has just quite literally had the full humpty dumpty.
But maybe it was just an overnight hump and in the morning all will be well again.
I wouldn’t mind, but I’ve only been the girlfriend of a Luuurve God for about a month. And I haven’t seen him for most of that time.
Has he really dumped me?
one minute later
Just because I did the twist with Dave the Laugh.
And had a German fight with him.
And accidentally snogged him in the Forest of Red Bottomosity.
Which the Luuurve God doesn’t know about anyway.
two minutes later
Oh marvelous, I am once more on the rack of love with no cakes.
All aloney on my owney.
Again.
PANTS.
Groove on, groovsters!
In case you haven’t noticed, me and the ace gang have created some of the grooviest dance moves ever invented. I always find that a quick burst of disco inferno dancing is a fab way of getting rid of tensionosity and frustrated snoggosity. So because I love you all so much, I have written down our fave steps so you can get grooving too.
The Viking bison disco inferno
We’re still practicing this for Rosie’s forthcoming (i.e., in 18 years’ time) Viking wedding. It is danced to the tune of Jingle Bells because even Rosie, world authority on Sven land, doesn’t know any Viking songs. Apart from Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer. Which isn’t one.
For this dance you need some bison horns. If you can’t find any bison shops nearby, make your own horns from an old hairband and a couple of twigs or something. Oh, I don’t know, stop hassling me. I’m tired.
Instructions:
Stamp, stamp to the left,
Left leg kick, kick,
Arm up,
Stab, stab to the left (that’s the pillaging bit),
Stamp, stamp to the right,
Right leg kick, kick,
Arm up,
Stab, stab to the right,
Quick twirl round with both hands raised to Thor (whatever)
Raise your (pretend) drinking horn to the left,
Drinking horn to the right,
Horn to the sky,
All over body shake
Huddly duddly,
And fall to knees with a triumphant shout of “HORRRRNNNNN!!!!”
P.S.
In a rare moment of comic genius, Jas, who is clearly in touch with her inner bison, added this bit too—it’s a sort of sniffing the air type move. Like a Viking bison might do. If it was trying to find its prey. And if there was such a thing as a Viking bison.
Stab, stab to the left,
And then sniff sniff.
Hahahahahaha!
The snot disco inferno
For this dance you will need a big blob of bubble gum hanging off your nose like a huge bogey. It needs to dangle about so you can swing it round and round in time to the music. Dance this to the tune of EastEnders, or your favorite TV show theme tune. It goes:
Swing your snot to the left,
Swing to the right.
Full turn,
Shoulder shrug,
Nod to the front,
Dangle dangle,
Hands on shoulders,
Kick, kick to the right,
Dangle dangle,
Kick, kick to the left,
Dangle dangle,
Full snot around,
And shimmy to the ground.
Excellent in every way!
The Viking disco hornpipe extravaganza
(Just a note, costume wise, the earmuffs are worn over the Viking horns. It is imperative that the horns are not removed, otherwise it makes a laughingstock of the whole thing.)
So:
The music starts with a Viking salute. Both paddles are pointed at the horns.
Then a cry of “Thor!!!” and a jump turn to the right.
Paddle paddle paddle paddle to the right.
Paddle paddle paddle paddle to the left.
Cry of Thor! Jump turn to the left.
Paddle paddle paddle paddle to the left and right.
Jump to face the front (grim Viking expression).
Quick paddle right, quick paddle left x4.
Turn to partner.
Cross paddles with partner x2.
Face front and high hornpipe skipping eight times (gay Viking smiling).
Then, and this is the complicated bit:
Interweaving paddling! Paddle in and out of each other up and down the line, meanwhile gazing out to the left and to the right (concerned expression—this is the looking-for-land bit).
Paddle back to original position. On-the-spot paddling till all are in line and then close eyes (for nighttime rowing effect).
Two sets of right and left paddling and then:
Open eyes wide.
Shout, “Land AHOYYYYY!”
Fall to knees and throw paddles in the air (behind, not in front, in case of crowd injury).
Having the Hump Scale
Ignorez-vousing
Sniffing (in an “I told you so” way)
Head tossing and fringe fiddling
Cold shoulderosity work
Midget gems all round, but not for you
Pretendy deafnosity
Walking on ahead
The quarter humpty (evils)
The half humpty dumpty (evils and withdrawal of all snacks)
The full humpty dumpty (walking away with dignitosity at all times)
Losing It Scale
minor tizz
complete tizz and to-do
strop
a visit to Stop Central
f.t. (funny turn)
spazattack
complete ditherspaz
nervy b. (nervous breakdown)
complete nervy b.
b
allisticisimus
Glossary
airing cupboard • It’s a cupboard full of air, you fools. If you haven’t got enough air, you go into the airing cupboard in your house. Not really! It’s a cupboard by the hot water boiler and you put towels and sheets in and they get all warm and snuggly buggly (don’t start saying you don’t know what snuggly buggly means).
arvie • Afternoon. From the Latin “arvo.” Possibly. As in the famous Latin invitation: “Lettus meetus this arvo.”
balaclava • This is from the Crimean War when our great-great-grannies spent all their time knitting hats to keep the English soldiers warm in the very, very cold Baltic. A balaclava covers everything apart from your eyes. It is like a big sock with a hole in it. Which just goes to show what really crap knitters our great-great-grannies were.
billio • From the Australian outback. A billycan was something Aborigines boiled their goodies up in, or whatever it is they eat. Anyway, billio means boiling things up. Therefore, “my cheeks ached like billio” means—er—very achy. I don’t know why we say it. It’s a mystery, like many things. But that’s the beauty of life.
Blimey O’Reilly • (as in “Blimey O’Reilly’s trousers”) This is an Irish expression of disbelief and shock. Maybe Blimey O’Reilly was a famous Irish bloke who had extravagantly big trousers. We may never know the truth. The fact is, whoever he is, what you need to know is that a) it’s Irish and b) it is Irish. I rest my case.
blodge • Biology. Like geoggers—geography—or Froggie—French.
bloke • You must know what a bloke is…it is a person of the masculine gender. Hence the expression “my bloke”—as in “I am dumping my bloke because he is too thick.”
boboland • As I have explained many, many times English is a lovely and exciting language full of sophisticosity. To go to sleep is “to go to bobos,” so if you go to bed you are going to boboland. It is an Elizabethan expression (oh, OK then, Libby made it up and she can be unreasonably violent if you don’t join in with her).
Boots • A large drugstore chain selling mostly cosmetics.
boy entrancers • Ah, yes. The real emergence of the boy entrancers. Hmmm, well. Boy entrancers are false eyelashes. They are known as boy entrancers because they entrance boys. Normally. However, I have had some non-entrancing moments with them. For instance, when I put too much glue on to stick them on with. It was when I was at a Stiff Dylans’ gig trying to entrance Masimo. I was intending to do that looking up at him and then looking down and then looking up again, and possibly a bit of flicky hair (as suggested in How to Make Any Twit Fall in Love with You). I did the looking at him and looking down thing, but when I tried to look up again I couldn’t because my b.e.’s had stuck to my bottom lashes. So my eyes stayed shut. I tried raising my eyebrows (that must have looked good) and humming, but in the end out of sheer desperadoes I said, “Oooh, I love this one,” and went off doing blind disco dancing to Rolf Harris’s “Two Little Boys.” So in conclusion…boy entrancers are good but be alert for glue extravaganzas.