Firstly, I would like to apologise about the title of this post. You probably read it and thought, ‘This is not what we expect nor appreciate from Jennifer.’ Perhaps we should view this little italics section as a disclaimer. What you are about to read was in no way influenced, encouraged or worded by myself. Please do not judge me on what you read below. This is a guest post, for I am delighting you with the writings of my most dear friend, Meggie, and she is quite the dramatist.
The writing in italics is myself. The writing in normal font is Meggie.
This weekend was spent with my favourite promiscuous lady aka Jennifer Marsh.
Upon arrival to the beautiful home town of my dearest Jenny, we ventured into Costa. Basically, every time we see each other it is mandatory that Costa is involved in some way. It would almost be criminal for us to be together and not be in Costa. Anyway, back to the story. We were in Costa. As per usual. Jenny managed to throw her drink over her self within a matter of seconds, and then proceeded to throw the remainder of said drink all over the floor. Onlookers were trying to refrain from judgement, but I could see it in their eyes. We then howled the whole bloody cafe down. (Howling refers to our laughing, as we are in fact wolves as opposed to women).
Upon spilling my drink the moment we sat down, Meggie gave a tut of disapproval, proceeding to comment by saying that I am a lost cause, for such instances always happen to me, and no person would willingly be my friend. In fact, she then said, “I don’t even know why I’m friends with you.” Is that not the pinnacle of love? But, I would like to add, I have not once had such an ‘instance’ happen to me since Meggie and I have been apart, and therefore, I come to the conclusion that it is her wild influence that makes me throw drinks around a cafe vicinity.
She exaggerates everything, but this drink situation is, in actuality, all truth. I did indeed throw my drink everywhere. It was quite a spectacle. But, being the good citizen I am, I cleaned it up with approximately five thousand serviettes.
Following Costa, we went to the beach, where Jenny’s feet were ‘on fire’, and she ‘broke her foot’ – clearly she was destined to be a theatrical lady, and every moment that she is not centre stage is a moment wasted.
We then decided to venture into the deep, dark world of Weatherspoons. This was clearly a mistake as after an hour we were approached by a middle-aged man, claiming to be divorced and ‘picking up chicks’. Quite frankly he was a vile specimen, and after we refused his offer to buy us drinks several times, we departed. Jenny was described by this gentleman as resembling ‘silk or satin’. She was also described as resembling a car park attendant. We are fairly certain this is not a compliment. But he was quite taken with her. Sadly, the feeling was not mutual. Jennifer still remains on the market, gentlemen. Place your bids.
This same man referred to Meggie as ‘something hard or tough… like a rock’. If that is not a compliment, I’m not sure what is. This man clearly has a way with the ladies. A chick magnet, if ever there was one. Meggie so had a thing for him, lured in by his smooth talk, and I watched on in silence as they discussed dogs and Glastonbury Festival. So much in common. A match made in heaven. I still don’t quite understand why she denied the man the friendly hug he so desired.
On the way to Spoons I smiled at a lady who was on her hen do. This behaviour was alien to Jenny and she was disgusted. She doesn’t quite grasp the concept of making friends, given that our first meeting involved a lunch box being launched at my head. Alas.
I was not ‘disgusted’. I was confused, for I was not paying attention, and all I saw was Meggie waving at no one. My “What the hell are you doing?” is therefore justifiable. But, of course, Meggie continued to ponder how I actually have any friends at all. It is indeed a mystery.
In other news, did Jenny ever tell you about the time she sneaked out of her house via the window to meet a boy? Yes, it is true. Don’t be fooled by her innocent appearance. She is a minx of the highest rank. Lock up your boyfriends, shield your brothers, the willy-lover is on the prowl.
I actually vom in my mouth slightly upon reading that I am a ‘willy-lover’. Meggie, you are vile. If anyone is the willy-lover, it is you. Regarding this whole window situation, I don’t really have
much anything to say, apart from Meggie is just jealous, and she would have blatantly done the same in her youth were she me. That is all.
So last night, after our wild night where we nearly fell asleep at the table, we went home and, naturally, slept. In the morning, Meggie said, “I just woke up in the night to hear you having your biscuit feast. Nibbling away.” I was indeed nibbling on a biscuit at quarter to four in the morning. What can I say? I wanted a biscuit.
I feel your lives have been greatly enhanced by reading that last piece of pointless information.
Please find attached our ‘then’ and ‘now’ pictures. The first was on the night where our love was confirmed. The second was from today. As you can see not much has changed, and we are still as beautiful as ever. We are awaiting the modelling contracts.
Our friendship is a thing of beauty. I don’t think I have ever laughed so much while writing a post. Glorious. What a howling weekend it has been. And a much needed one.
Seal. You’d better appreciate this. And our faces.
“You are a knob” – Meggie
It is love.