Aunty Carol's here. She's brought her dog, Ben, with her. He's a poodle. She's very excited because a dog named Pudsey won 'Britain's Got Talent' last night. She says 'her Ben' is talented and that, with a little practice, he could be as big as Pudsey. I'm not entirely sure as to what Ben's talent actually is. So far all he's done is chase his tail, crap in the conservatory and lick his own genitals. Gran says she once dated a man who could lick his own genitals. She says he probably wouldn't have qualified for 'Britain's Got Talent' though because he was, and probably still is, American. Aunty Carol disputes this. She says numerous acts this year weren't strictly British and that 'her Ben' is actually French. I wonder how you say "Stop humping my leg!" in French?
Mum's introducing Aunty Carol to Dave's weird girlfriend, Sharon, tonight. I think they're hoping to contact her late husband, Colin. I have my doubts as to whether uncle Colin will be able to understand a word Sharon is saying. 'If there's anybody in da crib then please make a noise innit,' is barely recognisable as English to me, let alone to someone who's been dead for nearly ten years.
Mum says Aunty Carol phoned this morning. Apparently she's upset about the 'Thank You' card that I sent her. She says it's completely inappropriate and that I won't be receiving any more knitwear from her in the future. How a simple picture of a meerkat holding a bunch of flowers in it's right paw can provoke such an hostile reaction is quite frankly beyond me. Mum has pointed out that the subject of aunty Carol's discord appears to be centred around the questionable activity of the meerkat's left paw. Now she comes to mention it...
Aunty Carol was here earlier. She's knitted me a new tank top. It's orange. She says girls might notice me now. Mum says even the visually impaired would notice me in that thing.
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