Chapter 9
Saturday January 8th
Giddy God. Somehow me and Dave managed to get to number 6 on the Snogging Scale last night, thanks to my sheer uncontrolled red-bottomosity. What does this mean?? And why does it keep happening??
9.00 a.m.
In the bath, having a nice soak in Mutti's expensive bath salts.
"Georgia, what on earth are you doing in there that is taking so bloody long?" Dad shouts through the door. God, he is so rude. I ignorez-vous him instead, and sink down into the tub.
Why hasn't Jassy phoned yet, to ask how it went last night?
She is such a crap pal.
I hear a scratchy noise and look over. There is a kittycat paw coming under the door and batting about aimlessly. If Gordy thinks he is coming in he has got another thing coming!!!
One minute later
Gordy actually squeezed himself like a scary ninja cat UNDER the door, leapt up onto the toilet seat and is now watching me beadily.
I feel sort of weird having a kitcat stare at me in the nuddy-pants. I try to splash water on him but all he does is give one of his silent mews and flick his tail.
"Gordy, OUT!"
I hear Dad banging on the door again.
"Georgia, if you don't come out in the next ten seconds I'm going to bloody well barge the door down!"
He is so vair vair unreasonable!!!
I huff out of the bath, grab a towel and stomp into my room.
Thirty minutes later
Still thinking about the Dave dilemma. I thought my days of red-bottomosity were well and truly over. I thought I was finally a one-man woman, like Jassy, but I now realise my Horn is still blowing free.
Dave really is a good snogger. And if I'm completely honest, gives me quite a bad case of jelloid knickers.
Shut up, shut up!!
One minute later
One the phone to Jas.
"Jassyknickers, I am soo bordey and also on the rack of love. Can I come over?"
"No."
"Quoi? Why not?"
"Tom is coming round in a bit to plan for our midnight badger watch."
Midnight badger watch? What in fresh hell?
"I'm still coming over."
"No you're not."
"Yes I am."
"I won't let you in."
10 a.m.
In Jas's room
Yum yum. On Jassie's bed, eating eggy soldiers that her mutti brought up. She is sooo nice. Why does my family have to be so very very abnormal and mad?
Jas is on the floor, organising a huge folder filled with what looks like pictures of badger droppings. Disgusting.
"Erlack Jas, why do you have so many piccys of badger poo?"
Huffyknickers just ignorez-vous me and huffs about under her fringe. She is well and truly completely bonkers.
Five minutes later
Badger Girl finally takes a break from her poo and I tell her all about how Will stood me up, while she nods and shrugs and shrods (nodding and shrugging at the same time, for those of you who are slightly lacking in the brains department). I decide to leave out the bit about Dave, as I am keen to avoid a famous tutting and looking extravaganza from Jas.
There is a bit of a silence when I finish, but she finally comes out with her golden words of wisdom.
"Wow. I would really hate to be you."
Charming.
I hit her over the head with a pillow for a few minutes, until she says "Stop it, stop it, you're creasing my Honey Badger factfile!!"
"Jas, I know you are mad, but this is verging on the truly pathetico."
She doesn't reply but just sits there huffing really loudly and fidgeting about with her folder.
1 p.m.
Jas finally kicks me out and I am left to roam the streets once more.
Fifteen minutes later
In the tree outside my house
Ho hum pigs bum. There's nothing to do in this world of doom. The Family Mad have gone in the Clown Car to see granddad and his wool-obsessed girlfriend, so I am left aloney, all aloney.
I wonder what Dave's up to.
Shut up, shut up!!
5.30 p.m.
Rosie Phoned.
"Hi Ro-"
"Emergency meeting at my house! Right now!!! And bring snackaroonies, or you're not coming in!!!"
And she slams the phone down.
Blimey. She is quite literally as mad as a snake.
Thirty minutes later
In Rosie's room
We have gathered all the snacks together and are awaiting Rosie to come back from the piddly-diddly department, so that we can actually find out what in the name of Jas's poo obsession is going on.
"What do you, er, you know, think it could be about?", Ellen says, munching on a cheesy wotsit.
"I hope she gets back soon," says Jas, guzzling down a packet of Midget Gems. "I need to be in the woods by eight."
"Alright my little pals!!" RoRo bounds into the room and plonks down on the bed, sending the bowl of choccy raisins flying everywhere, including into Jassie's eye. Hahaha.
"Are you ready for the announcement of the year??"
We all give the Klingon salute and cheer.
"Brace yourselves and hold on to your hats, for I have reached... number 9 on the Snogging Scale!!!"
Bloody hell and also WOWZERS!! We all stare at her, with sheer amazedosity.
"You mean, er, you've done, you know, activity below the, er, waist, or something?", Ellen says, heading for a complete ditherspaz. I shove a Midget Gem in her gob to calm her down, and turn back to Rosie.
"So was it... you know... weird?" I ask. Good grief, I'm having a slight f.t. myself. This is not good.
"Were you at home? Were your parents there?" Jas adds.
"Erlack, Jas!! Why in the name of Lindsays crap extensions would Rosie's elders be watching??"
"I mean were they at home, you idiot," she says, and throws a choccy raisin at me. Unbelievable.
7 p.m.
Home again home again jiggity jog.
Rosie gave us very little detail about her adventure to Number 9: Downthere Street (har har), but did draw a very shocking visual on a piece of paper, which afterwards, I immediately flushed down the loo.
We also discussed the introduction of a Full Monty scale, which brought about an even bigger dither extravaganza from Jas and Ellen.
An hour later
Same bat time, same bat place. Yawny yawn.
I wonder what Dave is up to??
I wonder if he's over at Late and Live. I think the Stiff Dylans are doing a gig there tonight.
Phoned Rosie.
"RoRo, what are you doing tonight?"
"Probably going with Sven to Late and Live, and then back to his place-" I can hear him in the background singing Agadoo, and then he suddenly grabs the phone and shouts madly into the receiver,
"Hallo Georgia, you are coming to push around pineapples with RoRo und I tonight, ja??"
Good Grief.
8.30 p.m.
Tarting up for Late and Live
Jassyknickers must be in the woods by now, crawling around in sets and feeling up badger bum-oleys. Erlack-a-pongoes.
How dare she call me an 'idiot'? At least I don't eat badger droppings.
Half and hour later
Standing at the clock tower
I have gone for my black miniskirt, white shirt and black ankle boots combo, for a look of sheer sophisticosity and non-red-bottomosity. The Horn has been locked up tightly. I even skipped on the boy entrancers, as I am no longer in le mood for entrancing boys. Especially not Dave the Laugh.
One second later
Well, maybe Dave the Laugh.
Shut up, shut up!!!
One minute later
Sven comes hurtling down the street with Rosie up on his shoulders, virtually knocking over an elderly gentleman at the zebra crossing, and finally lurching to a stop in front of me. They are truly mad.
"Hallo, Georgia!! Are you ready to groove on down??" Sven shouts. He is wearing very tight silver trousers and star-shaped sunglasses. He looks like a giant Elton John, I realise. Blimey.
9.15 p.m.
Late and Live
Tres fabby with an extra shot of marv!! The Stiff Dylans are playing the next set!!
I'm perched at the bar sippy sipping on my drink, watching Sven do a truly mad rendition of the Viking bison disco inferno. He is up to the "stab, stab to the left" bit, and has accidentally stabbed Rosie in the eye. Good grief.
In the tarts wardrobe
The Laugh has landed!! Down bottom, down.
He walked in with a group of his mates, and they all went to sit in a booth, and then he saw me, and then he winked!!
My knick-knacks are once again well and truly jelloid. What in the name of arse is wrong with me??
As I begin redoing my lippygloss, my favourite person in the world, Wet Lindsay, slimes in, followed close behind by her amazingly dim pal Monica.
"Oh, what a lovely surprise seeing you here," she says, pouting at herself in the mirror and smearing on more lippy.
She is so incredibly vain.
Her extensions look more octopussy than ever, I might add.
Then she turns away from me and begins talking to her weedy sidekick.
"So Masimo is taking me for a ride on his scooter after the gig." She flicks her eyes towards me for a nanosecond, probably to see if I'm watching her. Which I'm not.
"He invited me round to his flat again. His place is just so cool, I had to say yes."
God, her knees are truly crap.
"And he is such a great musician. He even said he was going to write a song about me!"
ADM nods in reply, like a crap nodding dog in a cardigan.
"He really is so fab, Mon. And a great kisser."
After about ten years, they slime out again.
She is completely ridiculous, and I am completely positive she is lying about everything.
Because to be honest, who in their right mind would write a song about a knobbley-kneed, thong-wearing octopus?
Good point. Well made.
Back in the club
The Stiff Dylans are on!! A fast number comes on and we skip onto the dance floor, dancing about like loons. We add another step to the Viking bison disco inferno. So now, after the sniff, there is 'kicking at the ground'.
"You have to do it as if you have bison hooves and are clomping around in the dirt," Rosie says, as we stab to the right.
Sniff Sniff
Kick at the ground
Kick at the ground
Twirly Twirl
Raisy Horn to the sky
Drinky Horn
Raisy again
All over body shake
Huddley duddley
Fall to knees
HOOORRRRRRRRNNNNNNNN!
Dave has spotted us and dances over, saying, "Hi laydeeezzz, lets groove!"
One minute later
As we do huddley duddley I feel a hand pinch my bottom!! I look over at Dave, who is looking straight forward, but I know it was him because his eyes have gone all naughty-looking.
One second later
He just did it again!! Unbelievable!!!
Ten minutes later
Phew. I am boiling.
The Stiff Dylans have stopped for a break and are now standing over by the bar. Lindsay is dithering about like a prat next to Masimo, flashing evil glances to the other girls swarming round him. How very typico.
I sit down in an empty booth for a breather.
"Hi Kittykat. How's your bottom?" Dave comes and plonks himself next to me.
He is so cheeky!!!
"My bottom is fine. How's your hand?"
"It is elated, thanks for asking. Where are the rest of the Ace Gang?"
"Jas is out sniffing badger bum-oleys, Ellen is dithering about at her dance lesson, Jools is over at Rollo's, and Rosie is just over there dancing with giant Elton," I say.
Sven is twirling Rosie around wildly in the middle of the dance floor, shouting "Ja, oh ja, swing with me, baby!!!"
People are eyeing them, with looks that one saves for the Completely Mad. Which they are.
"So, Sex Kitty..." Dave says, putting his arm round me. He smells really good, I realise. And his eyes are quite nice, in a dark and shiney way.
Oh Giddy God, girdey loins, girdey loins.
He brings his head closer to mine, and my lips involuntarily begin to pucker.
Stop it, stop it!!!
His puts his hands either side of my face, gives me a soft kiss on the lips, and then another, this time harder and all warmey.
He really is a vair vair good snogger.
Ten minutes later
Still snogging. My red-bottom is completely out of control, and I have lost it's reigns.
I just want to say thank you for all the lovely reviews, you are all fab!! Keep R&Ring!!
xxx