CACK!
The
weather has been a gayboy.
‘Killer
K’ – Sex Gang Children
Naomi’s coming tomorrow. Oh,
exquisite! A letter arrived from her
(‘the Crazy One’) today. It was
addressed to ‘Another Crazy One!’
She
wrote it ‘30 minutes after the witching hour’ on Wednesday 29th July.
‘Good evening, Oh lustful one.’
She
imagines I’m fast asleep as she writes.
‘Never mind, I’m still thinking about you.’
She
says she’s had a ‘mega-hectic week, to say the least’. She’s due back at the dole office tomorrow,
so she has to be up at 7am (‘Bugger…’)
On
Tuesday evening she had a really upsetting row with her dad over the
‘phone. Everything started off okay, but
then he got ‘hot under the collar and started going mental. He moaned and groaned and threatened to kill
Mum!’ Naomi tried to stick up for her
mum, but when that failed, she blurted out, ‘You blame her for every fucking
thing!’ This got him ‘dead mad’ and he
shouted (‘through the sound barrier’) at her, saying, ‘Don’t you ever speak to
me again!’, then slammed the ‘phone down.
‘Adults. Who
needs ‘em?!!’
She
supposes everything will be alright in the end.
‘…if not I’ll run away to the mountains… Do you fancy emigrating to Everest?’
She
tells me the good news that Flash’s ‘Death’ action figure has not been lost.
He was rescued by Belinda, in
The Bell. She passed him over to Sally, who is now temporarily fostering him.
‘He is said to be fine, but missing Flash like
bugger!’
She
also sends her love to Flash, asking how Groomstool-face
is doing. Naomi still has Groomstool’s
‘extra massive willy’, which is ‘doing fine’.
She thanks Betty for the
birthday card she sent and asks me to give Chip
a massive sloppy kiss from her.
By
now it’s 1am:
‘but then I love writing to you, and I do
love you tons and billions, so I suppose the fact that I’ll get less than 6
hours’ sleep tonight doesn’t matter an oogle!’
Apparently
my name is still engraved in one of the tables at The Bell.
‘What’s it feel like to be famous?!’
Apparently
her mum really, really liked me. She
thinks I’ve got ‘a wonderful sense of humour’.
‘It’s brilliant!
Everyone really likes you!!’
Sally
stayed over at Naomi’s on Monday night and she likes me, too. She kept telling Naomi how good I am for her,
etc.
‘I think it’s about time I opened up a fan club for
you!’
However,
she’s annoyed that Sally’s borrowed The
July Cassette (the music tape I did her) and now she has nothing decent
to listen to or ‘annoy the bitchy neighbours with!’
She
then realizes that this is the last ever letter she will send me from that
address as she will be moving into her new place in Bond Street (off Dereham
Road) on Friday. She says the walls
look really bare without my pictures on them.
Sally, Jon and Geordie will be
helping her move in, and they’re all staying over. On Saturday they’ll drive her to the bus
station so she can catch the 12pm bus to King’s
Lynn. She can’t wait and she’s
counting the minutes!
‘Here’s to Saturday: Caravan lust!’
She
then apologises for her ‘strange moods’ on Sunday. Apparently it was a mixture of being scared
about moving:
‘…and the fact that I’ve fallen so madly in love and
you were about to go for another 5 days.
I’m sorry.’
At
1.30am, she signs off by saying ‘goodnight and sweet dreams’, offering me:
‘…lots of utter love, kisses, cuddles, hugs, dreams,
lust, orgasms, pervy places, serpent tongues (“So, my pretty one…”, etc!) and
everything and anything.’
She
signs her name with 15 kisses.
‘P.S. I love you more and more every time I see you
and DON’T YOU BLOODY FORGET IT, SHIT-HEAD!!
No, seriously, I love you and I can’t wait until
Saturday! Byeee!’
By
the way, Gillian Munden wrote again
yesterday and if I don’t write back she’ll bray me.
YAAIIIRGHH!
Here
it is:
‘Dear Jez,
Hurry up + bloody well write back you smelly
poo-face!
Yours ‘Lovingly’,
Gillian!
xxx
P.S. This
paper is black because it represents death – and DEAD is what you’re going to
be if you don’t answer this letter!
P.P.S. THIS
IS A THREAT!!!
(I love ya really!)’
Uncle Norman and Aunty Janet
came to stay tonite with Janet’s mum and dad.
Nice to see ‘em all again.
‘Times
of our Lives’ – Sex Gang Children
Naomi
rang tonite. She’s not pregnant! Phew!
I
can’t wait to see her.
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