Baby Got Back.

Well I got back anyway. Not from a baby. I don’t really understand that song- if somebody walks in with an ‘itty bitty waist and a round thing in my face’ I would be perturbed in no small measure! A skinny woman pushing her fat arse in peoples faces is no way to command the respect of your peers, you mark my words!

Well, Mother’s Day was a riot of internecine warfare, fuelled by my brothers ever present inability to do anything properly or in the manner requested. I did, through dint of guile and wit, manage to hide all vestiges of loathing toward my brother for mummy’s ske, proving my obvious superiority once and for all. I cooked mum a lamb dinner, my sister made a rather tasty cake and my brother, in a show of typical pernache, made the gravy. Bless him.

I’m bored now so I’m leaving. Byeeeeee.