Monday, 15 August 2011
Four hundred and eight mummified debutantes
Napoleon Beelzebub has had a request for a dozen mummified debutantes in a strange day glow fake orange tan colour wearing prom dresses in bright pink and purple sequins. Luckily Mum said that there was a big fashion show in the NEC that started yesterday which was the perfect place to find them. So we all went off to
and the NEC to find them. Mr Beelzebub said he better stay at the shop because he finds fashion shows very depressing particularly the underwear catwalk show (he was right YUK) Birmingham
It was like the old saying “you don’t see a mummified debutant in a strange day glow fake orange tan colour wearing a prom dress in bright pink and purple sequins for ages and them four hundred and eight all come along at the same time”. As it happens this was quite convenient and Pirate Pete and the dog and Rusty the Robot Dog threw at least twenty in the back of the van. And although we did not need that many Pirate Pete said he might take one or two with him when he sets sail in the next few days. He said mummified debutants make great crew and brighten up the dullest of days with all that colour and stuff.
Anyway we are all off yet again tonight to celebrate Big Bill’s (of Big Bills Greasy Fur ball Café fame) birthday at a secret location which is located in a secret place, which means it really hard to find because it’s secret. Mum just said IDIOT that’s not fair she is the one who told me it was a secret; OK she just said it was a secret until I emailed Big Bill and asked him about the secret. Mum has said IDIOT again.
Today is a very special day because one year ago today is the first official day of my diary as a manuscript, a lot has happened since then and I now spell better (that’s spell as in words not as in Harry Potter waving a stick about). The dog and mum are saying my spelling is rubbish even now and it is a wonder the Ukrainians and other nationalities that do read the diary can make any sense of it. No one told me it had to make sense.