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Posts Tagged ‘My Little Pony Princess Leia’

It recently came to my attention – I’m not sure quite how – that there was a page on Facebook called “If I knew you were coming I’d of baked a cake.. LOL jk I’d of locked the door 🙂” which 136,668 people had apparently ‘liked’ enough to click a button with the word ‘LIKE’ on it. I don’t know about you, but I put its success largely down to the inclusion of the smiley face at the end and the fact it LOLs in the face of grammar.

It also came to my attention that, in stark contrast, the number of people who purported to ‘like’ my own facebook page was 244.

The obvious thing to do to rectify this rather embarrassing situation was to change my page title to ‘Not Drowning LOL jk Mothering :)’ –  ‘LOL jk’ being something the Youth Of Today use to indicate they’re telling a joke instead of, say, actually being funny. (Oh, my! Did I just type that out loud?)

Anyway, I soon learnt it was a bit too late to jump aboard the ‘LOL jk’ wagon – a quick search on facebook yielded 132,000 results. That ship had well and truly sailed – it evidently being the kind of wagon that easily converts into a sail boat.

So I decided instead to run an Oprah-style giveaway to the 250th person to ‘like’ me on Facebook. Except, even as I announced it on Facebook, I realised that I really had no idea what I could possibly give away, with the exception, perhaps, of my dignity. The word ‘Special’ had been carelessly bandied around a lot. I was under pressure…

But then I found it – again, I’m not sure how. It was the perfect gift. It said all I wanted to say… and more! It was a photo… of a dog… wearing a jaunty-angled cap… SMOKING A CIGAR! It was exactly right for a forum like Facebook where I’m always being urged to ‘buy’ JPEGS of bull dogs wearing party hats for my friends’ birthdays. Except those official Facebook Party Bulldogs aren’t even smoking cigars. Sad, but true.

Anyway, I emailed the picture to my 250th person in the smug knowledge that I was enriching her life considerably. Later that day, however, I decided the picture was so very ‘special’ that it was my civic duty to share it with the rest of my Facebook ‘Likers’. I’m generous like that.

My 250th person, however, was devastated. In her words, her ‘special’ gift had been “cheapened”. But then, she’d had the picture for four hours more than everyone else. Four. Whole. Hours. As I wrote over on Facebook “Imagine the possibilities!”. I mean, if she hadn’t made the most of that four hour head start, (growls:) that was her fucking problem.

Still, I felt bad. I truly did. Bad enough to email her the picture of a My Little Pony dressed up as Princess Leia in a gold lamé bikini that my husband had once sent me to fuck with my head. I then reassured everyone back over on Facebook that I had made amends by sending her a photo of  My-Little-Pony-dressed-up-as-Princess-Leia-in-a-gold-lamé-bikini and then I attached the photo so they’d know what the hell I was talking about. 

“It’s like a knife to my heart. You are dead to me, you hear? Dead!” my 250th person said when she saw I’d shared yet another of her ‘special’ prizes with the masses.

Of course the only thing I could possibly do then was to email her a picture of a Lego figurine giving birth to an alien life through its stomach. And this time I didn’t post this picture on Facebook. No. I’d learnt my lesson. No, truly! Also, it was kind of creepy – unlike the capped dog smoking a cigar and the Slave Pony Princess Leia.

I mean, you judge for yourself:

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Emails sent in the act of organising Book Group breed like rabbits. The “REPLY ALL” button sees to that. Before I know it, the one email I’ve sent out has spawned dozens of other emails, all flying about confusing everyone, as books, dates, locations and availabilities keep changing. In the end, nobody has any time to read the actual book for Book Group and I start to wonder if we should adjust our expectations and just start calling ourselves an Email Group instead.

Of course, sending out a July date for a May meeting never helps. I’ll own that.

Still, as the convenor of this month’s meeting, I’d just managed to send out one last email with FINALISED DATE in capital letters in the subject title when I received some news that changed everything…

Luckily, I kept a log of the subsequent chain of events, which I will share with you now.

Tuesday 27th April, 2010

18:00 Husband announces he has to work late next Tuesday (4th May), the night of my FINALISED Book Group (note capitalisation). I spend the next 36 hours IN DENIAL.

Thursday 29th April, 2010

06:14 Before I send an email out to my Book Group, I check the dates for the UK election, which I have assumed is the reason my husband is working late. However, I discover the election is on Thursday and not Tuesday. I email him, admitting I’m a bit confused.

06:25 My husband sends me an email saying “You think you’re confused? I just sent [work colleague] a photo of a pony dressed up as Princess Leia”. He attaches a photo of a My Little Pony dressed up as Princess Leia.

06:26 My husband then sends a subsequent email stating he has to work because the Federal budget is being passed down.

06:48 I send an email out to my Book Group admitting I can no longer make the FINALISED date that I, myself, FINALISED.

14:33 Fifteen emails later, Book Group is fixed for Wednesday 19th May.

Friday 30th April, 2010

16:59 I ask my husband what he plans to do for dinner on Tuesday night. Husband asks what’s happening on Tuesday night and I gently remind him (by way of shouting) that it’s the Federal Budget and that he is working late.

17:00 Husband casually responds that he got the date wrong and the Federal Budget is actually the following Tuesday (11th May).

17:01 I realise (by way of releasing a long, loud, strangulated scream) I’ve rearranged Book Group for no good reason.

17:02 Husband says it’s not his fault he thought it was next Tuesday because everyone was talking like it was next Tuesday and what was he supposed to do.

17:03 I politely suggest (by way of sneering menacingly) my husband might like to check dates before getting me to change Book Group night in future.

17:04 Husband asks what my problem is –  I’ve got a new date so why am I complaining.

17.05 I leave the room before I kill someone. No prizes for guessing who.

17:06 I begin to secretly plan on printing out the sixty-four emails it took to arrange this month’s Book Group and make him eat them for dinner on Federal Budget night.

Wednesday 5th May, 2010

11:05 Husband rings up from work asking me to look on the calender at the week of the 10th May because he wants to book in a beer night with a friend visiting from interstate.

11:06 I tell my husband the Tuesday night is out. My husband asks if that’s my Book Group night.

11:07 My shouts are heard three suburbs over, something along the lines of “NO IT’S THE FEDDDDDDDDERALLLLLL FUCKKIKKKKKINGGGGGGGGGG BUDGGGEETTTTTTT!”.

Tuesday 11th May

19:30 Details of the Federal Budget are released to the public and everyone concludes it is one big long wet fart, hardly worthy of working late or changing Book Group dates (for example).

20:34 Husband rings from work saying he got the week of his friend’s visit wrong and can he go out for drinks with him next Wednesday (19th May). He may, of course, have been joking but it’s actually hard to tell over the sound of the phone being slammed down repeatedly.

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