‘’How are you going? ’’ (...to which I always want to reply, ‘by bus’.)
After ‘’heaps’’ of positive feedback following ‘Our Graham’s Quick Reminder’ and ‘Alice’s Adventures in WAnderland’ and even inspiring another good friend to start his own Flight School Blog, we get to the murky and universally panned territory of the ‘3rd in the sequence’ or the ‘trilogy.’
Take the likes of recent film flops such as High School Musical 3, Spiderman 3, Mission Impossible 3, or even music album 3rd attempts by Oasis, The Spice Girls...could go on forever....all with the recurring theme that they never quite lived up to expectation, or, were simply pants.
With the daunting prospect of being put in the bargain bucket so early in one’s literary career, I shall do my utmost best to provide you with something akin to a Lord of the Rings master class as opposed to a Rush Hour 3 atrocity!
Right, I don’t know where the boys were when they penned this insightful number, but I can assure you that it sure as golf ball sized hailstones was not Perth. (It is possible that they were on their way here, but due to transit issues at Heathrow and a strangely short connection flight, ended up supping on Haggis in an identically named paradise!)
Autumn was, until one freak ‘’Natural Disaster’’ hour on March 22nd, the only thing reigning Down Under - the thermo (An Australian necessity to shorten and whack an ‘o’ on the end of each word...even I have been prescribed the treatment by Jack...Aero!) continues to oscillate sweat provokingly around the ‘30’ mark. The Perth Met Office has kindly informed me that ‘ I ‘ will be the only person feeling the heat on the 19th of the month!
Speaking of numbers dates and months and in keeping with the recent trend of lowering the tone of the blog with a hailstorm of not so subtle post-watershed innuendos, a closer inspection of the title song’s lyrics when juxtaposed with my own relationship is somewhat startling! Allow me to expand:
April, Come she will
So despite turning 30, I’m apparently still going to be Hugh Heffner in the bedroom.
May, she will stay
Seeing as we both have return tickets to the UK for May 27th, this prophecy is of concern!
June she’ll change her tune, in restless walks she’ll prowl the night
Clearly I won’t have lived up to my April youthfulness, she develops insomnia lying awake dreaming of Mitchell Johnson ( got it in! ) , and I’m a little unsure of what they are getting at next, but an educated guess would conclude that she either turns into a werewolf or something out of Twilight, or worse still, a regular on the Soho circuit!
July, she will fly and give no warning of her flight
She bores of Team Aaron and has the urge to spread her wings, leaving me up in the air as to her intended destination, or more likely, whether she flew Quantas or Singapore Airlines! Either that or the anti-depressants and hallucinogenic mood enhancers that a life in London prescribes, have her practicing her best Superman effort off Merali Mansions!
Anyone aware of the remaining lyrics for August and September will appreciate why I shall cut the light heartedness short at this juncture! I am not quite in the mould of Ned Kelly just yet, and myself and Ms Morris, one hopes, have plans for a ‘happily ever after’.........*gulp*.
I approach my 4 month milestone in Perth in 2 weeks time and remain a leisurely domestic goddess, now fluent in Maltese – Shitzu. In return, the dog’s palate has developed an unhealthy penchant for various chocolates, and he himself has similarly become fluent in shitting Maltesers.
(Disclaimer: Before anyone complains to the RSPCA, the dog is not actually fed human chocolates. However, he does partake in a fortnightly West Coast Fried Bucket Evening, though cunningly, he hasn’t quite grasped the Aussie concept of BYO! (Bring Your Own)...still, I submit to the Learned Judge that I am not responsible for his ½ Kg weight gain over the last 2 months! Despite merely stretching a foot and a half long, I plead that he is simply big boned. )
I shan’t mention for fear of tears of laughter what happened to Chloe a couple of weeks ago at the dog beach when a massive Great Dane-looking, muscle ridden bull dog, ploughed into her at pace chasing another dog, sending her flying into the sea. She claims (I think perhaps my drama factor is rubbing off on her) that the episode left her concussed for a few seconds when her head hit the soft, silky white sand, so much so that she does not remember the moment of impact or immediate aftermath. Poor Chloe. Of all the people on the beach, had to be her! And not one person helped as she sat in shock, fully clothed, in the wave break. The South African owner did not even offer an apology, but stated, I quote, ‘It’s a big dog isn’t it ‘. One hopes his house was gutted by in the recent storm.
I can report that the pound recently fell to a 25 year low against the Aus $, and a loaf of bread now costs in the region of forty five pounds. An iceberg lettuce today was £3.50...the recent storm wiped out a major suppliers crop plantation to the whole of WA and only those with yachts or Cessna Jets are entitled to purchase same on production of a ‘Monte Carlo Prices in Perth’ store card.
I have adapted my survival instincts to the hostile environment and have limited my ‘happy food’ jaunts to a meagre 9 a week. In terms of weight loss, I’m still waiting and shall continue to wait.
After a 20 year absence, I’m pleased to say that I can still ride a bicycle. With Josh travelling down south for a month with the intention of ‘picking fruit’, which soon transpired as code for ‘picking up Japanese women’, I made use of his wheels, cycling the coast dune path between Mullalloo and Whitfords Beach, and in doing so, saw a repertoire Steve Irwin would have been totally stung by...a couple of snakes, an amazing tiger striped yellow lizard, and the highlight, a shark 30m from shore with his brethren feeding on an apparent carcass 300m out.
Whilst employment still eludes and my CV’s have now been dedicated to the local Aboriginals for identity theft and arson usage, Chloe has left the Fertility Clinic job and waltzed like Matilda straight into an ENT clinic as a children’s nurse. She has also kept up her weekly tap dancing classes as I too have kept up my daily human solarium exploits. Were I to turn up at Matilda’s tap dancing class, there’s a strong chance I would be mistaken for Sammy Davis Junior. If I tapped though, I might fall through the floor boards.
Easter brings with it a multitude of exciting surprises - I might perhaps start acting my age as opposed to my shoe size....no chance. Chloe’s parents have organised a secret night away for Easter weekend, destination unknown, and Chloe has thoughtfully booked a week away for my birthday, again destination unknown. So I shall be otherwise engaged in various activities throughout April if anyone was expecting a ring.
To conclude, I hereby propose a toast from Kallaroo WA and wish you all a Happy and Safe Easter, and more importantly, that Arsenal somehow get past the might of Barcelona tonight!
You’ve been a lovely audience. Thank you & G’Night.
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