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Well hello there...

Welcome to my blog. Brb... I'm making memories (read as: Wine. I'm going to get some wine...)

Gone With the Wind

So my sister started a book club. No it's a real book club. Ok well, we drink a lot of wine, talk a lot of rubbish, eat waffles and pork sausages and right at the end when we're lying on the couches a bit pickled with our big paunchies protruding out in front of us (and after a good burp) we do eventually discuss books.

Now I only felt the need to point this out because for some bizarre reason, whenever you mention the term “book club” men always seem to get this gleamy look in their eyes. Which is swiftly followed by an evil looking grin. “So em... is it a book club (bored face), or a “boooook clubbb”? (this one is said while doing the quotey finger things and a bizarre wiggling of their eyebrows).

Ummmm, what?

You see, men separate this little get together into two categories:

The Boring book club: This is where they imagine us ladies to be getting together in a church hall to read excerpts of the bible. We're all wearing brown ankle length dresses (something their grannies wore to bed in the 1920's) we have loose fitting brown stockings on, the ones that pool around the ankles, those funny black shoes that librarians always wear and we're always drinking tea. A little bit of sherry would only be had on special occasions like Christmas.

OR

The book club they WISH we were going to: This book club entails us being in someone's mansion, there's a sleek Aston Martin parked outside and giggling can be heard from inside the house. And there we are ladies, all laying on our own individual chaise lounger, wearing our sexiest lingerie and either our highest Jimmy Choo's or (and this one's always a toss up) our thigh high leather boots! Each clutching a glass of champagne and looking at each other suggestively. On the table, next to the one copy of the Kama Sutra (our book of choice) is a whole host of sex toys for us to play with... This ofcourse will only happen after our slow sexy pillow fight (and yes, our hair will be billowing around us as if there's a fan in the room).

Ok see, now I only know that this kind of party would never happen with chicks. Get women in the same room, add champagne and attempt to have a “slow sexy pillow fight”?? That shit will NEVER happen. You touch me with that pillow and fuck up my freshly applied lipgloss and you're going down biaaaatch!

So no, the truth of the matter is, is that we get together, chat about random books, but then always end up talking about your penis sizes. But, there is always a bit of girly giggling if that makes you feel any better? *flutter lashes*

So anyways, I digress. My sister calls me the other day and says “So I think we are shallow people and should really focus on buying the Classics for our book club” (This way we can come across looking cool and smartarsey like infront of the other girls!) Ok cool, lets do it, I shout with enthusiasm! “What classics have you got?”

“None... what classics have you got?”

*looks in cupboard* “Emm... I have a really old Mills & Boon at the back there... it'll have a lot of “throbbing members and flower petals” in it?”

God. We're screwed!

So off we toodle to “Click click ding dong” to order us some Classics (Yes we googled “classic books to buy to make us look smartarsey”). We came up with my sister ordering War & Peace, and me ordering Gone with the Wind (If you knew me, this book would make perfect sense – I have been told I am a dramaqueen of note, but I do declare this to be BULLSHIT *hand on forehead*)

My sister calls, whispering frantically “Oh my God Oh my God what have we donnnnnnnne!!!”... I'm thinking, what the feck has happened, is there a dead prozzie in your hotel room?? what whattttttttttttttt?

“My book arrived!” (War & Peace)

So?

It weighs almost a kilogram!!! (she starts to cry softly at this stage) and the words... God in heaven the words are tinyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!!!! It's carrying on about some Russion aristocrats, and they're all bonking their own families! 1400 pages.... I'm not gonna make ittttttttttttttt!!!

(This is where I am starting to giggle my arse off – albeit quietly!)

“Oh it can't be that badddddddd, you'll be okayyyyyy!” (smug look)

It was all fun and games, until my book arrived.

Gone with the Wind

Dimensions: 649grams, 1448 pages

Intimidation factor: WHAT WAS I THINKING!!! *hand on forehead*

(Calling my sister) “So... my books arrived....”

“Oh awesome... and... what's it look like?”

“It looks.... like... a burnt up crispy thing right now. I accidentally tripped while carrying it around outside, my wrist just couldn't support the weight and it went flying right into the braai fire!”

I do declare... what a terrible tragedy.

The Dangers of Hula Hooping!

Why why whyyyyy Delilaaa