Louise Rennison_Georgia Nicolson 03 Read Free Page A

when this awful thing happened.
    I felt something touch my basooma. I thought it was the Old Man of the Loch and I leapt back like a leaping banana. Jock McThick spoke from out of the darkness, “Och, I’m sorry. I couldnae see a thing in the dark. I was just like…you know…feeling my way hame.” And he scuttled off.
    Hame? Why was he calling me Hame? He used to call me Ken.
    11:30 p.m.
    Feeling his way? Feeling his way to where? My other basooma?
    This was disgusting.
    11:45 p.m.
    Molesting my nunga-nungas.
    Nunga-nunga molester.
    11:48 p.m.
    Despite the incredible crapness of my life, my nunga-nungas have made me laugh. Nunga-nungas is what Ellen’s brother and his mates call girls’ basoomas. He says it is because if you pull out a girl’s breast and let it go…it goes nunga-nunga-nunga . He is obviously a touch on the mental side.
    11:50 p.m.
    But quite funny though.
    11:55 p.m.
    Perhaps I could make some nunga-nunga protectors by electrifying my sports bra with a battery type thing. That would give Jock McThick or any other nunga-nunga marauders a shock.
    midnight
    But it would also give me a shock, which is la mouche in the ointment.
    12:10 a.m.
    Angus has rediscovered his Scottish roots. Apparently they are in the middle of some bog because he had bits of horrible slimy stuff in his whiskers. He came into my bed purring and all damp and muddy. He soon got nice and dry by wiping himself on my T-shirt.
    God, he smells disgusting. I think he’s beenrolling in fox poo again. He thinks it’s like a sort of really attractive aftershave.
    1:00 a.m.
    It isn’t.
    monday october 25th
    10:10 a.m.
    Why oh why oh why has the SG not called me? Oh hang on, I know why he hasn’t. It’s because we haven’t got a phone in our fantastic cottage. I couldn’t believe it when we first arrived. I said to Mutti, “There has been some mistake. I’m afraid we must go back to civilization immediately. I’ll drive.”
    Dad raved on about “tranquility” and the simple life.
    I said, “Vati, you can be as simple as you like, but I want to talk to my mates.”
    He grumbled on about my constant demands. As I pointed out to him, if he would buy me a mobile phone like everyone else on the planet I wouldn’t have to bother speaking to him at all.
    2:00 p.m.
    I can’t stand much more of this. The rest of my “family” has gone on a forced march. Well, Vati called it “a little walk in the woods.” But I know about his little walks. It will end in tears, but this time they will not be mine. I know exactly what will happen. The Loonleader will be all bossy and “interested” in stuff like cuckoo spit. Then he’ll lose the way and argue with Mutti about the right way home, fall over something and be attacked by sheep. And that will only be the high spots.
    I pretended I had a headache.
    Vati said to me as I lay in my pretend bed of pain, “You’ve probably given yourself eyestrain looking in that bloody mirror all the time.”
    I said, “If I develop a brain tumor you will be the first person I will come to because of your great kindness and sympathosity.”
    4:20 p.m.
    On the edge of sheer desperadoes. Decided to go for a walk.
    Arrow tried to round me up as I came out of the gate. So to make him happy I let him herdme into a hedge for a bit. Then I set off down the lane. Ho hum. Birds singing, ferrets ferretting, Jock McThicks McThicking around. Good grief. Then I came across a phone box.
    A phone box!!!
    A link to the real world!!! It wasn’t even a tartan phone box!!
    I skipped inside and dialed Jas, my very bestest mate in the universe.
    â€œJas, it’s me!!!! God, it’s good to speak to you. What’s been happening???”
    â€œEr…well…I got this fab new foundation. It’s got gold bits in it that make you…”
    It is like talking to the very, very stupid. (In fact,