Getting To Know You.







My name is Laura Jane Williams and the only stationary I own is that which has been stolen from Italian children.

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Nothing Is Sacred.

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Given a 'nod' by David Mcmahon   Long distance love means that, after over two months in my new house, The Boyfriend only met The Housemates for the first time this weekend. I was nervous about how they might all get on. I shouldn't have been. They bonded over stories of my stupidity- I now hate them all. "Did she tell you about that first weekend after she had moved in?" S giggled. The Boyfriend looked at me. "Noooo...." he replied. "Ohmygod! It was sooooooo funny. I felt really bad that I had a fridge full of meat, what with her being a veggie and everything, but when we went to this farmer's market I couldn't help but buy these Buffalo burgers we'd had a taste of". B nodded agreement. "They were delicious," he said. "So we bring them home and we have them for tea. Laura asked us how the chicken was after we had finished... she thought Buffalo burgers were chicken! I really wondered what we had let ourselves in for...
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Death in the Family

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Pickle, the family rabbit, has died. I found out because Mama emailed me about it. We're going to bury him in the garden tonight, next to Eric, she said. ERIC DIED TOO? I replied. Eric is my auntie's rabbit. She lives across the road from Mama and they used to have rabbit play-dates. Eric died last month, I was told. And then the gravity of Mama's words hit me. They were going to bury my beautiful little lion-haired baby in the ground with Verbose Auntie's overweight, smelly, and not to mention AMOROUS beast of a pet. They were going to be together for all eternity. Mama , I implored back, those rabbits cannot spend the rest of forever together.... Eric was a rapist.  And it's true. We'd all been in the garden when, as Verbose Auntie put it, Eric's lipstick came out of the tube. Poor Pickle didn't stand a chance. There was rabbit-on-rabbit penetration, and we all sat by and watched it happen on that sunny afternoon. Hell. We might even have enjoyed it. G...
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Watch Yourself.

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I shouldn't be let loose in public alone. I just shouldn't. It is a notion that occurred to me when I was at the bank last week. The nice chap looking after me- the obligatory, just-out-of-school, very-bad-skinned, Jesus-why-don't-you-cut-your-nails-for-crying-out-loud new boy with a bad haircut- had just offered me a credit card. Knowing he could see my balance on his screen I laughed at him. Out loud. He stared at me. It dawned on me that he wasn't joking. "I can't have a credit card," I told him. "I have no self control". "Ah, yes madam," he countered, "But you see with the offer we have today you have 56 days interest free to pay back what you borrow". "Ah, yes," I said back to him, "But you see, I won't pay it back. I'll buy a plane ticket somewhere, draw the rest out as cash, and deal with any consequences later. Or never." The chap narrowed his eyes at me. "I'm just being honest,...
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