No More Pencils, No More Books, No More Teachers’ Dirty Looks

  We just said an emotional farewell to Fred, who is off to someone’s home while we go to Zante.  I couldn’t accompany him to exile, it would overwhelm me. Plus he moults a lot this time of year and frankly I don’t need him sitting on my lap for the journey.

  I’ve had a crappy few days (what is with people dying when you least expect it, even though it’s expected?) so the summer holidays haven’t really sunk in yet. I’ve been busy on eBay, buying Pugsley’s vintage tea set and teasing her about it, wrapping it up with love, care and fairy godmother dust. For such a smart person, Elizabeth, you are surprisingly easy to wind up. Open that box before the sixth and I will chain you to the inside of a bus. Underneath a chlamydia advert.

  While I’m in Zakynthos I’ll be video-blogging to keep busy, along with swimming, sleeping, trying to learn Greek and not think about impending funerals. Funeral. I sincerely hope no one else kicks the bucket. If they do, I am going to have a word with my karma. I do try to be nice to people.

  Unless I can wind them up about their crushes. Then, sorry, I will mercilessly take the piss out of them. It’s a tough habit to break.

  Have a good fortnight, lovely readers in front of your screens, I will hopefully blog from Zante while I’m there. Happy International My Chemical Romance Day for tomorrow… I firmly believe Frank’s last photo and album stuff will be released on the 23rd. For the record. I think I will go and watch Torchwood and avoid packing.

  Does anyone else like Jack’s dress sense? I feel the need to buy an expensive forties military coat, a silk waistcoat and a fob watch. Also a stopwatch.

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One thought on “No More Pencils, No More Books, No More Teachers’ Dirty Looks

  1. Hello Frank. And goodbye.

    I’m going on holiday tomorrow too. Booked it all of two hours ago. Don’t know when I’m coming back though. Probably in a week. Anyway, this means that I can’t experience a blow by blow account of your holiday. Sucks.

    I will write you a postcard, or maybe two, because I lack contacts.

    So yes.

    Like

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