Tuesday, 24 February 2009

Murder, we write.

Where do we begin.....
And he be not just ANY moiderer. He is a girl slaying, intestinal eating, police evading kind of a murderer.
We now realise we may have alarmed the elders amongst us (sarah powell hits the big 5-2 this year after all....HI MUMMY... never looked better..)
So we will proceed with our little story telling...
Here we sit, trembling in our flip flops not knowing when, but knowing EXACTLY how, we will meet our bloody, gruesome end. It's rather exciting really.
OTHER NEWS on our long, exhausting agenda... let us once more begin at the beginning (of last week. DER.)

Friday of Yorn (23rd)
We woke up, rats a squeaking, pupils a spitting, rice a waiting. OH HARK! what is this we hear?!
It is the definate and unmistakable sound of a childs scream. We weren't quite sure how to react... turn up the ol' ipod....? assume, with glee, that lessons have been cancelled due to a death amongst pupils...? (that's not funny. people are dying through intestinal ravaging as we type)
MORE SLAUGHTER. but, regrettably, not of children. it was of some pigs. that was nice.... although we didn't even get any fucking pork for dinner. what the....'ell?
OH and on this friday of yornish pig death, we had another cinematic experience akin to the friday of double yorn... this time we got Quantum of Solace. In our humble opinions, it was a decent action movie but we spasmed over the one single shot of London, rain and council estates falling heavy and standing tall and were oh-so proud (we really were...actually...sarcasm aside) to show off our city to the kiddies who seemed LESS that impressed. it was sad.
OH AND BEFORE WE FORGET... Rosa woke up with rrrrrrather iffy movement of the old bowelies (sphinxy wasn't being kind mummy/tommy - rosa) which ended up on my (olive-groves) foot mid plunge.
------Interjection from the culprit: REALLY, it was both of our faults the loo got blocked whilst simultaneously being NEITHER of our faults as we are not responsible for what goes IN our bowelies and therefore not responsible of what comes OUT our bowelies. I do know one thing however, the smell could have killed an army of Spartans, LOVE ROSA.
-------Interjection from the plunger: (olivia) I had to PLUNGE the loo/hole/cesssssssspit? sessspit?seespit?ceasepit? whatever...whilst rosa enjoyed her leisurely morning run. GOD KNOWS why i agreed to that! LOVE LIVI.

The weekend.... probably still of yorn. (Note to self/selfs: find out what 'yorn' means.)
We, once more, spent the weekend bikeless which really isn't Rosa's fault at all. We hasten to add it's mainly teacher Boris's fault for being such a monumentally scheizer motorcylin' teacher...... let's rewind a little shall we....
It was a boiling hot jungly afternoon.... perhaps around the hour of lunch... although upon consideration we're pretty sure it was around the hour of 4.35pm when 'the lesson' commenced.

The ingredients were as follows:
One Rosa-sized Rosa
One silly assed French croissant under the name Boris
One blue, rather dusty though undoubtedly sexy motorcyle
One TIGHTROPE of a road flanked on either side by a sharp ditch into a rice field
One heaped tablespoon of dirt
Several grams of intrigued on-lookers
Handful of rice field

And here you have a disaster in the making. So yeah.... in Boris's words... "She. Is. Not. Ready."

SO, the motorbikeless weekend. Dans le weekend (we're brushing up on our francais, oh mais oui, le poop de shoop) we chillaxified our bahoottoms off on saturday at school (oh christ almighty, jesus be our witness, WE WERE BORED) before hitchin' a ride into PARTY CENTRAL of mae hong son.
We had shower number one of the week. It was pretty special. Then we headed for a drinkypoos (Olivia had a gin&tonic. Rosa had a martini bianco. Cos that's how we roll) and some non-ricey food for dinner!!!!!!
We manged at the aforementioned restaurant je m'appelle Salween? whence we also watched Aston Villa vs Chelsea. It was like a little slice of footballing heaven... the greeness of the freshly watered turf.....mmmmmmmm delectable.
We also met up with Emmett and Janis/OttoTheFinn at the restaurant and had some nice old bantaaaaar. Towards the end of the eve we also had the delight of some company of the Yorkshire kind (Olivia- oh mommy you wouldn't have been proud of your roots....HE.WAS.INSANE. infact....HE may be the murderer. I wouldnt be surprised.) (Rosa- apparently yorkshire is in England. I mean... what on earth?)
To cut a boring story shorter...a few angered awkward silences later we scarpered... he didn't take kindly to any 'dyslexia: the disease of the middle classes' jokes so subtly interjected into conversation by... us. OOPSSSSIES.

Vendredi? Samedi...... DIMANCHE (of yorn....obviarsely)
We went to a naming ceremony of a baby which was a month old. And NO before you get all annoying and ask: we can't tell you the name. It's a secret. (We have absoluuuuutely no idea what it was. But we think it was a girl.) The baby was a niece of a girl in Class 1. Her name is Angeline.
NEXT we went to a 'national park' saw some shitty animals living in shittier conditions. It was a bit....shitty.
This was rather swiftly followed by a trip to the wateryfall where we swam, had some larks, got bitten. Mainly the 'got bitten' part. BASTARDS. Yeah.... that was about it.....

Check out the photos lovepuppies.

(OH but we did change Boris's facebook language to pirate which wasn't nearly as funny as we'd hoped. Shame that.)

Lots of sweaty, constipated love and riced-up cuddles,
Rosa and Livi
(xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx - those are from olivia. Rosa HATES YOU ALL.)

BUSINESS DECISION - PHOTOS TO GO ON FLICKR.... link to be posted shortly....


  1. again, loving the blog.
    rosa im particularly happy that you threw up on livi. livi, i hope that reminded you of me.
    you are such gap year tragedies already.

  2. i think its poo