My aunt's best friend's cousin just rang from Finland to tell her about the perverts living in her town.
Maybe Africa?
29 March 2006
27 March 2006
Newspaper Headlines
Dear Diary,
Yesterday's headline:
Drug Baron Court Case starts today
Today's headline:
Drug Baron Witnesses Had Sex while Driving
Local residents Anna and John Schmidt today testified to a run-in with the alleged 'Drug Baron' in a bizarre story of sex, perversion, nakedness and dangerous driving. The court was in turns horrified, dismayed and convulsed in laughter as the red-faced, penitent witnesses gave their accounts as if they, not the alleged drug dealer, were on trial.
We have to move. Far, far away.
Maybe Finland?
Yesterday's headline:
Drug Baron Court Case starts today
Today's headline:
Drug Baron Witnesses Had Sex while Driving
Local residents Anna and John Schmidt today testified to a run-in with the alleged 'Drug Baron' in a bizarre story of sex, perversion, nakedness and dangerous driving. The court was in turns horrified, dismayed and convulsed in laughter as the red-faced, penitent witnesses gave their accounts as if they, not the alleged drug dealer, were on trial.
We have to move. Far, far away.
Maybe Finland?
10 March 2006
Sex fiends
Dear Diary,
So here's the scene:
John's apologising madly at the other motorist, who is screaming incoherently and waving a BMW side-mirror at him. Detached, obviously.
I'm coming to my senses and realising that I'm still lying on the back seat, legs in the air, frozen in the middle of a bicycle revolution, with no knickers on.
The policeman is out of his car and heading straight for John when he casually glances into our car - and falls over.
(Honestly, I thought police were supposed to be immune to shock)
Then, the other motorist's attention is drawn to the fallen policeman, and he assumes that this apologetic guy must actually have some serious backup in the car. He chucks his mirror on the passenger seat and drives off, tyres screeching.
The policeman is looking with concern at the rapidly-departing BMW, obviously torn between a high-speed chase and nabbing a couple of sex fiends. After a brief moment of indecision, though, another police car screams by in pursuit. The sex fiends are his by default.
I'm bright red, but at least up the right way and looking a little more dignified.
He looks at me, at John, and back at me.
"You're not having a baby."
It's a statement, no hint of a question anywhere.
"Well, not yet!" I bluster.
A hint of a smirk twitches the corner of his mouth before he regains his official composure.
A few moments later, he's dragged the entire scheme out of me. His composure cracks a little at the upside-down bicycle pedalling (demonstrated by John on the side of the road), then smashes into a million pieces. He gasps, sits down heavily and howls with laughter.
We avoided being charged - but only because a call for backup went out over the police car radio. Although he probably didn't want to try writing a report on us anyway.
So here's the scene:
John's apologising madly at the other motorist, who is screaming incoherently and waving a BMW side-mirror at him. Detached, obviously.
I'm coming to my senses and realising that I'm still lying on the back seat, legs in the air, frozen in the middle of a bicycle revolution, with no knickers on.
The policeman is out of his car and heading straight for John when he casually glances into our car - and falls over.
(Honestly, I thought police were supposed to be immune to shock)
Then, the other motorist's attention is drawn to the fallen policeman, and he assumes that this apologetic guy must actually have some serious backup in the car. He chucks his mirror on the passenger seat and drives off, tyres screeching.
The policeman is looking with concern at the rapidly-departing BMW, obviously torn between a high-speed chase and nabbing a couple of sex fiends. After a brief moment of indecision, though, another police car screams by in pursuit. The sex fiends are his by default.
I'm bright red, but at least up the right way and looking a little more dignified.
He looks at me, at John, and back at me.
"You're not having a baby."
It's a statement, no hint of a question anywhere.
"Well, not yet!" I bluster.
A hint of a smirk twitches the corner of his mouth before he regains his official composure.
A few moments later, he's dragged the entire scheme out of me. His composure cracks a little at the upside-down bicycle pedalling (demonstrated by John on the side of the road), then smashes into a million pieces. He gasps, sits down heavily and howls with laughter.
We avoided being charged - but only because a call for backup went out over the police car radio. Although he probably didn't want to try writing a report on us anyway.
09 March 2006
Roundabouts Pt 2
Note to future child
If you ever find yourself trying to explain to a police officer how you came to be lying in the back seat of a car with your knickers off and your legs in the air while your husband managed to side-swipe another car, and that he was only dizzy not drunk or on drugs... try to make him laugh.
If you ever find yourself trying to explain to a police officer how you came to be lying in the back seat of a car with your knickers off and your legs in the air while your husband managed to side-swipe another car, and that he was only dizzy not drunk or on drugs... try to make him laugh.
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