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26 December and so this is x-mas...or, boxing day to be precise. I wasn't about to blog on christmas day for crying out loud!
Well inmates, you will be mildly amused to know that i have a good solid christmas booty, but let me tell you a little story.
Recently my aunt Jane got into making her own chocolates- you know, melt the stuff, buy moulds etc- and when we were off on a shopping trip she asked us to get her some moulds, but since she is the worlds hardest person to buy for, we thought we'd pretend not to get that e-mail and buy her a cool little rotational chocolate making machine- very cute.
So we went to the choc-machine-selling-store, and looked at the little rotational one, and the chocolate fondue fountain, and pondered for an extended period of time, before I picked up the box for a rotational and we continued on to look for other stuff. I carried that box for half an hour, and went out shortly after we got back, to allow mum to wrap some stuff for me. Only then did she find the box was empty. I hadn't noticed.
So mum went back and got a box with something in it.
In the meantime Jane went out and bought her own moulds. Her chocolate recipe said it would make about 30, fill about 4 mould trays, so she bought 2 and did them twice.
In her little bowl of chocolate, made to the exact measurements of her recipe, there was more than half left over. So she made more. Still more than half left over.
Oh dear.
So she called us and asked if we could pick her up some more moulds, since there was a relevant retailer near us, and due to a healthy lack of preservatives, her chocolate was actually perishable.
Dang, not only did we still need to buy moulds, but our chrismas present was now completely redundant.
Mum refused to take it back a third time, so we wrapped it for elsewhere and went after the fondue fountain, but, on thinking about it, decided Jane had probably had enough of chocolate, and eventually bought her some flower pot men.
Christmas lunch, and jane brings her chocolate creations, which are absolutely scrummy, if not slightly alcoholic. While waiting to head off, Jane tells me what she did with the leftover chocoltate, once she'd moulded 'till she could mould no more: She'd coated strawberries.
Exactly what you do with a fondue fountain.
PHEW!
So, from Jane we received copious amounts of leftover chocolate, my boyfriend's family gave us a box of them, my neighbours gave me a box of them, my freind Syera gave me a bag of them, and, to add insult to injury, my uncle and his lady gave me a bracelet- and a box of caramel chocolate sticks.
DEATH BY CHOCOLATE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
This was not the only irony of my christmas, but i thought you assylum-ers might like to hear it.
Off to the desser hall with you (groan)!
11 December The party sagaBoo inmates.
My next door neighbour Jed turned 18 during our exams, and ended up without a party to celebrate it. When the exams finished, he immediately organised for a random piss-up featuring all of our group. In my back yard. That party was last night.
I might bring it to the general reader's attention that i am the only person in my group who point blanck does not drink- not to say i was the only one sober, but i was the only one with absolutely nothing in their system, so i do not feel i could be more awake-yet-weary if i tried. The fact that twister, spin the bottle and strip poker made breif appearances will not be elaborated on, but there are glow sticks that seem to have moved by themseves to places high and strange, mini cheesles where no mini cheesle has been before, and a once good bench now in splinters.
Jed sat on it.
As to who ended up doing what with the games mentioned above, you will have to go into private conversation with me, as they are usually more private people than they were on the local oval (just down the street) at 2:30 in the morning.
The fact that i got to bed at 3:30 in the morning the night before did not help. READERS, DO NOT TRY THIS AT HOME.
New conclusions: Poodles love water, but not drunk people. The girl is always more remorseful than the boy. Chinese people find the concept of the lighthouse quaint but practical. Asbesdos backyard sheds do not live well with disco balls and dart bourds hanging from them. The hostess' boyfreind is always the life of the party.
I think this hostess may be in denial.
Goodnight inmates. |
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