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Tuesday, 3 June 2014

In which One is a bitter and twisted old woman…

‘What was all that going on out there?’ came the enquiry.
All ‘that’ going on out ‘there’ was akin to two well-spoken, middle-aged Women’s Institute ladies squabbling over a Victoria sandwich at a village fete.  Had One been in possession of One’s knitting bag at the time, One may well have exacted an awful revenge with a 5mm bamboo easy-grip.
‘Twould appear that One is a ‘bitter, spiteful old woman who feels that the world is against her.’
One is in fact a vacuous, silly creature incapable of taking even the most alarming of situations with any seriousness what-so-fecking-ever!
Furthermore, One isn’t even ‘Lovely,’ but gaiety and humour fly high above the heads of the dour, sullen spinsters of this parish.
No matter, you and I, Dear Reader, shall continue to float serenely above it all in our ten quid Matalan summer frocks, clutching our fat tummies and rocking with laughter.
‘Tis most out of character for One to defend Oneself.  Usually One would be hand wringing in the Underground Lair, unable to manage even the most rudimentary ‘colouring in’ task du jour.
One feels fairly certain that even One’s fat bottom had an indignant air about it as One charged as fast as One’s short, fat little legs could carry One in hot pursuit of the Head Girl.
Following Ones fervour and fairly obvious inability to ‘shut up and clear off’ a short re-match was granted under the watchful eye of Mr and Mrs Smoking Man. (who incidentally sheared in opposite directions)
One was further deemed to be a bitter and twisted old harridan with the weight of the world’s woe upon One’s chubby shoulders and to have manipulated situations in order to..
‘Write silly things on my blog.’

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