Naughty Letters to Ms. Mac

Countless noble souls (and many fluffy kittens) sacrificed their lives during the making of this blog. We think you will agree they were worth it.

Thursday, May 29, 2008


Dearest Ms. Mac,

I'm pouting.....

and lonely...........

Needy love and sad kisses,



OMG Benjamin!

Dearest Love, Love, Love,

Your Luxembürgli postcard just arrived! A moment of delicacy and joy in my day of neverending slog.

I do hope you didn't send one to The Lovely Doc too, though. That would surely be the final straw in your tenuous friendship!

Nouvelle Star is on telly tonight, the quarter finals. Although I have not been keeping you up to date, my crush this year is dark, velvety-eyed Benjamin (with true Gallic nose), who sings jazzy, croonery numbers.

My fave is Just The Two Of Us, which I sing constantly. In the car today my mind was drifting and I sang "Just the two of us, building raisins in the sky" (instead of castles, natch) and the kids burst out laughing. It's our new family joke. Now they just have to look at me and say "Raisins Mummy" and we widdle ourselves with mirth. Clearly "Entertainment" is not the most expensive item on my monthly budget.

When Benjamin sings, he ignores all the under-age bimbos in the studio and looks right AT ME. It's amazing.

Back to the treadle - the tots are off at sport, yaay! so it's quiet again and I can think.

Seamstressy kisses,


See Fly Me To The Moon

Emission du 15/05/2008 : Benjamin chante Fly me to the moon - Nouvelle Star 2008 - Nouvelle Star 2008
Emission du 15/05/2008 : Benjamin chante Fly me to the moon - Nouvelle Star 2008 - Nouvelle Star 2008

and Just The Two Of Us,

Emission du 21/05/2008 : Benjamin chante Just of two of us - Nouvelle Star 2008 - Nouvelle Star 2008
Emission du 21/05/2008 : Benjamin chante Just of two of us - Nouvelle Star 2008 - Nouvelle Star 2008

Wednesday, May 28, 2008

PJ Wednesday (NOT)

Dearest Darls,

Got offpsring off to school, am already dressed and made up, must clean bathroom, sew costumes, fetch daughter from school and take her to piano exam, execute a lightning-quick supermarket dash, pick up daughter and take her back to school, sew more costumes, pick up offspring, make hamburgers for lunch, feed offspring, send them to sports, sew costumes till arrival of hairdresser at 3.30, then RELAX for two whole hours in her hands, yaay!

Other than that, nothing much on the programme today.

How 'bout you?

Cool, calm & collected love, garnished with totally non-stressed kisses,



Monday, May 26, 2008

Just Checking In Briefly

Dearest Monday Maven,

What is a maven anyway? Hold on, I’ll just look it up on….

someone who is dazzlingly skilled in any field

and my Collins English Dictionary (and Thesaurus) tells me:

an expert or connoisseur.

I think I like the first definition best. It’s a little more glamorous. Just like me.

So my weekend was not spent in adoration of you as usual – shocking, I know. Dearest, I was simply too busy, taking one offspring and a little friend to Paris for her birthday outing (no culture, just shopping and fast food), being witty and entertaining at a Saturday night bbq and booze-fest, and sewing ballet costumes until I went cross-eyed, all day Sunday.

Now, you know I’m not one to gossip; but a little birdie told me that your lovely husband spent an afternoon in the company of The Lovely Doc yesterday, isn’t that nice?

Oops! Perhaps you didn’t know. Perhaps I shouldn’t have said anything. Oh dear….

I don’t mean to worry you, but you know she is a Mighty Temptress….

And her cakes are simply divine!

So what did you do to while away the lonely hours on Sunday?

Sympathetic love and false friend kisses,



Friday, May 23, 2008

I Can't Say Jobbies Without Sniggering

Dearest Angry Goddess,

Well, that's just charming. People who don't pay their bills are the worst. Believe me- it takes one to know one. Mind you, six months is just tekkin' the piss!

I have spent some of this morning preparing a list of sights to see in the Lothian region of Scotland for some hairy bikers. They are friends of a colleague of Mr Mac. They will be riding their Harley Davidsons through Schottland and doing touristy stuff. I have encouraged them to climb Arthur's Seat and to go and see Prestonpans, the site of a very famous battle from 1745's Jacobite rebellion. When they are finished in the faffing about in and around Edinburgh, they will be heading up to Loch Ness. I hope they don't get eaten by the monster. The lucky hairy biker bastards. Everyone gets to go everywhere and I get to go nowhere, ever.


Big, Brown Jobbies Start To The Day

Dearest Scotch Bun,

Oh, why did I say that? Now I’ve made myself hungry.…

I have managed to put myself in a bad mood this morning. It’s shocking, isn’t it? Me, the mild-mannered Clark Kent of telephone sales, and the least aggressive salesperson you ever met.

But one of our (normally lovely) Aussie clients has STILL not paid their bill, and after five months of sending polite emails and making polite phone calls, I am FED UP!

I sent the following email to the accountant, the subscriber and the boss:

Dear Jane, Alex and Mark,

The attached invoice has now been remained unpaid for SIX months.

Please, please take some action!

Thank you.


Ooh, can you believe it?! Not very professional, I know, but I'm a raging beast. I am SO angry about the waste of my time this involves, just to get a measly 1300 euros out of them. They always used to pay regularly but last year were taken over by a multi-national corporate big jobby company.

Ooh, my heart is still racing. I might cark it! Send round the handsome emergency team to resus me, mouth-to-mouth.

Angry love and fiery kisses,


Thursday, May 22, 2008

The Definition of Embarrassment

Dearest Post-Birthday Girl,

God, are we STILL celebrating the 17th anniversary of your 21st birthday? You really know how to milk the occasion to the very last drop, don’t you?

Well okay then. I will join in with your Grand Scheme, but only until next February when we start celebrating MY birthday again. Remind me to pour yet another flute of champagne tonight.

So, what is the definition of embarrassment?

A friend of a friend of mine was walking alongside a pretty canal in her lunch-break. The towpath was pleasantly deserted, so she naturally began writing blog posts in her mind. This progressed to saying them out loud, practising different accents, rehearsing humorous anecdotes, breaking into peals of laughter ranging from dainty trills to bellowing guffaws, and occasionally scratching her bum.

Suddenly she became aware of an almost imperceptible sliding movement in her peripheral vision, and discovered that a pleasure boat laden with holidaymakers had approached silently from behind and was drawing level.

My friend is very quick-witted and said “Bonjour !” very coolly, with her nose in the air, as if nothing could possibly be amiss.

The holiday makers were all British and were all tittering to themselves. She had the choice of walking faster to outrun the humiliation (but it was a hot, sunny day), or dropping back to let the boat overtake her and face the grinning apes leering at her. She slowed her pace and averted her gaze until a handy turn-off enabled her escape.

She then discovered her skirt was tucked into her panties at the back.

The poor girl! I know you would comiserate, but I promised her I wouldn’t tell anyone.

Love & pink-cheeked kisses,



MORE Birthday Thanks


I can't tell you how excited I was to open the Milchkasten this morning and find a parcel from France awaiting me. What a wonderful surprise! My very own copy of Ian Walthew's A Place In My Country, signed by the author. The dedication? "For Stella, I hear you're a bitch of a critic so well, if you don't like it, what can I say but sod off back to Fife. (I hear you are hot) Love, Ian Walthew."

OMG! A real, live author telling me to sod off! I am utterly enchanted by his words already. I simply can't wait to get stuck in (Although he's going to have to wait until I have finished Jamie O'Neill first).

Thank you so much for the lovely birthday present. I truly am the most spoiled soulie in the wurruld.

Soulie Love and BFF Quisses,


Wednesday, May 21, 2008

Many Thanks

Dearest Soulie,

Thank you so much for my beautiful black rose and the many happy bathday wishes. I did indeed enjoy my bath- it was warm and inviting and I languished in it long enough for my skin to turn wrinkly.

I had such a wonderful day yesterday. Even the fact that Mr Mac wasn't home early enough to either cook me one of his special laksas or take me out didn't bother me. I enjoyed champagne with my friend instead. We opened the bottle of champagne so generously given to me by Doc's dear Uncle Daniel who was also kind enough to give me a guided personal tour around his champagne-factory at 10, rue de la Charme. I desperately want to call it a Champagnerie but suspect I would be arrested, accused and tried for Making up French Words. Champagnerie notwithstanding (Your Honour), the bubbly was of exquisite quality. It held a certain sweetness, not too sweet, just sweet enough to complement the strawberry at the bottom of the glass. My friend declared she would not be averse to opening another bottle of it at a later date which is high praise from her indeed.

I was spoiled rotten with presents. That Ropey Old Bird sent me some beautiful baubles to adorn my neck and earlobes along with the most gorgeous bookmark I ever was in possession of. My mother-in-law sent me some of Australia's Nutrimetics products, including their flagship product, Nutri-Rich Oil which, I swear, I was only just thinking about the week before. Mr Mac gave me Madonna's new cd, Hard Candy which has been on repeat in the CD player. Ewan, James and Patrick gave me lots of cuddles and were exceptionally well behaved all day. I opened cards from my family and friends in Australia and Scotland and I felt loved all day long. Even George Clooney made an appearance in an e-card from Sylv.

And of course, we had telephonic communcations. Could my day have been any more perfect? I think not.

I hope your own Birthday Girl has been as spoiled and as happy today as I was yesterday. Oooh, I love birthdays, I do!

Loads of post-birthday-high love and quisses,


Tuesday, May 20, 2008


My dearest Soulie, today is a very big day for you!

I know you only take a bath once a year, and my memory tells me that today is the day! I am so happy and proud.

I know that you will smell as sweetly as the rose above when you emerge, relaxed, dripping, steamy, and slightly pink from the perfumed waters.

In fact, to celebrate this momentous occasion, I have very generously decided to eat cake and drink champagne in your honour tonight. I know you will be very touched by my generosity and you may even consider me overly sentimental and ridiculous.

All my soulie love and bathday kisses,


P.S. I’m sending George Clooney over as the towel bearer to greet you when you step out of the tub in all your naked splendour. You can spank me later.

Monday, May 19, 2008

Dearest Love,

I am just waiting patiently. I know you'll come back to me.

In the meantime, you know I am married to an engineer, don't you? My darling friend in Melbourne sent me a couple of jokes at the expense of engineers the world over.

An engineer was crossing a road one day when a frog called out to him and said, "If you kiss me, I'll turn into a beautiful princess."He bent over, picked up the frog and put it in his pocket. The frog spoke up again and said, "If you kiss me and turn me back into a beautiful princess, I will stay with you for one week." The engineer took the frog out of his pocket, smiled at it and returned it to the pocket. The frog then cried out, "If you kiss me and turn me back into a princess, I'll stay with you and do ANYTHING you want." Again the engineer took the frog out, smiled at it and put it back into his pocket. Finally, the frog asked, "What is the matter? I've told you I'm a beautiful princess, that I'll stay with you for a week and do anything you want. Why won't you kiss me?" The engineer said, "Look I'm an engineer. I don't have time for a girlfriend, but a talking frog, now that's cool."

Two engineering students were walking across campus when one said, "Where did you get such a great bike?" The second engineer replied, "Well, I was walking along yesterday minding my own business when a beautiful woman rode up on this bike. She threw the bike to the ground, took off all her clothes and said, "Take what you want."The second engineer nodded approvingly, "Good choice; the clothes probably wouldn't have fit."

An architect, an artist and an engineer were discussing whether it was better to spend time with the wife or a mistress. The architect said he enjoyed time with his wife, building a solid foundation for an enduring relationship. The artist said he enjoyed time with his mistress, because of the passion and mystery he found there. The engineer said, "I like both." The others: "Both?" Engineer: "Yeah. If you have a wife and a mistress, they will each assume you are spending time with the other woman, and you can go to the lab and get some work done."

And a little true story. One of Mr Mac's engineering lecturers gave a little giggle to himself one day in the classroom and when his students asked him what was so funny, he related the following tale. The night before he was sitting at the dinner table, his mind away on another plane. His wife asked him, "What are you thinking about?" The lecturer answered, "I was just wondering what questions I should set for fluid dynamics exam at the end of the month." His wife said, "God, Dixon! You're boring!"

With much patient love,


Sunday, May 18, 2008

Ode to Ian

Dearest Stells,

I think it may be all over between us.

Believe me, this will hurt you more than it will hurt me.

Blame it all on Doc and Vivi.

Those naughty girls fixed me up on a blind date with a devastatingly dashing published author! I rolled up at Ian Walthew's book signing in Joinville at 3 pm on Saturday and prepared to politely shake hands and introduce myself, only to be treated to a thrilling bise (two cheeks) and his declaration that he already knew who I was!

Well! I do believe I may have spilled my hot tea and crumbling carrot cake right down my cleavage with the excitement of it all. I immediately bought his sweet little book thingie, and quivered as I watched his manly hands caressing the cash pristine pages, before signing it with a personalised message TO ME. That has to mean something, right?

I hung around all afternoon, casting sultry looks his way as he schmoozed with the crowds of potential buyers. I was very upset that Doc sent me to the supermarket at one stage, as I suspect Vivi may have been slaying him with her Southern charms while I was away. I cleverly pretended to get lost in those confusing and complex country supermarkets, and "needed" Doc and Ian to come and find me.

To my great delight, Doc had invited him to a smaller, intimate barbecue in the evening. Big mistake Doc! The hussy kept trying to cosy up to The Lovely Ian to get her "ego" stroked, but I made sure to get a seat right next to him and I slapped that bitch down.

A nasty catfight ensued, and I am hereby declaring myself the winner. The fact that I had to drive the offspring back home to Hubby today, while Ian stays on for another night in Doc's Den of Iniquity does not deter me in the slightest. I feel it can only be a matter of time before he invites me for a quiet Literary Lunch and intellectual discussion session. No stroking of egos will be necessary. I may try to tickle his fancy though.

So sayonara Babe, it was great while it lasted. Don't feel too bad. I'm sending you a consolation prize:

Ian's lovely little memoir thingie, A Place in My Country, which he signed and personally dedicated to you!

Carefree love and two-faced kisses,



P.S. You can read some reviews here , here and here.

I can't wait to read your review!

Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall himself wrote of Ian's book: “..compelling and often deeply moving...Walthew marshals his runaway real life narratives with a novelist’s skill...a page-turner”. Which is high praise indeed, even if Hugh FW is as nutty as a fruit cake.

I personally like this comment from an Amazon reader's review: Walthew is a talented writer and manages to keep you eagerly turning the pages, whilst smiling in recognition and acknowledgment, and occasionally frowning with indignation.

I'm taking him to bed right now, ready to smile in recognition and frown with indignation.

Saturday, May 17, 2008

Quickie Saturday Report

Dearest Absent Ms. Mac,

I have no time to write to you today. As you know, I'm off to spend a weekend at The Lovely Doc's Den of Iniquity at 10 rue de la Charme. She's organizing a shin-dig and book-signing party for an English author chappie. You know, the one at which you were supposed to be Guest of Honour, all the way from Switzerland!

But in your absence I'm going to take a life-sized, cardboard cut-out of you and sit it next to me ALL DAY. I'm going to feed it little morsels and offer it drinks (which I will consume myself when no-one is looking). And of course I will tell it all my best jokes.

I will miss the Real You horribly, but will have The Lovely Vivi Dispatches for company. Doc will be too busy rushing around and being gracious with all her guests, I imagine. I will be the shy wallflower sitting in the corner, not daring to talk to all the clever literary sophisticates...

And of course a full report will be on your desk first thing on Monday morning.

Bon weekend my Dear!

Lurve & kisses,



Thursday, May 15, 2008

Dear Mistress of Communications,

To help you on your Communcations Course today (imagine the preposterous idea that you could become even more excellent than you already are in the field!) I have found the following on Kim's blog. I think you should take the following words and use them in casual conversation with your course instructors today. For no other reason than my own personal amusement.

The following words are apparently taken from The Washington Post's MENSA Invitational* where members are invited to take a word from the dictionary and alter it by adding or subtracting a letter and supplying a new definition.

1. INTAXICATION: Euphoria at getting a tax refund, which lasts until you realize it was your money to begin with.
2. REINTARNATION: Coming back to life as a hillbilly.
3. BOZONE: The substance surrounding stupid people, that stops bright ideas from penetrating. The Bozone layer, unfortunately, shows little sign of breaking down in the near future.
4. CASHTRATION: The act of buying a house, which renders the subject financially impotent for an indefinite period of time.
5. GIRAFFITI: Vandalism spray-painted very, very high.
6. SARCHASM: The gulf between the author of sarcastic wit and the person who doesn't get it.
7. INOCCULATTE: To take coffee intravenously when you are running late.
8. HIPATITIS: Terminal coolness.
9. OSTEOPORNOSIS: A degenerate disease.
10. KARMAGEDDON: It's like, when everybody is sending off all these really bad vibes, right? And then like, the Earth explodes and it's like, a serious bummer.
11. DECAFALON: The grueling event of getting through the day consuming only things that are good for you.
12. GLIBIDO: All talk and no action
13. DOPELER EFFECT: The tendency of stupid ideas to seem smarter when they come at you rapidly.
14. ARACHNOLEPTIC FIT: The frantic dance performed just after you've accidentally walked through a spider web.
15. BEELZEBUG: Satan in the form of a mosquito, that gets into your bedroom at three in the morning and cannot be cast out.
16. CATERPALLOR: The color you turn after finding half a worm in the fruit you're eating.
17. IGNORANUS: A person who's both stupid and an asshole.

My own personal favourites are Sarchasm, Hipatitis and Osteopornosis. What about you, darls?

Loads of communicatory love and innovative quisses,


*Does the Washinton Post's MENSA Invitational actually exist? I doubt it.

Wednesday, May 14, 2008

Still Working Hard?

Dearest Nose-to-the-Grindstone Beauty,

Are you still working hard? I loved your reminiscences of when you deprived the City of Light of its claim to fame. I can't imagine how awesome it would be to have urinary superpowers. Think about it, when you're out on the lash, drinking beer and having fun- you know you don't have to to go the loo for hours, do you? And then you do eventually and it's like you opened a floodgate- you find yourself sitting on the throne every five minutes for the remainder of the evening. If you had a urinary superpower, you could take over Europe just in one girls night out! I also blogged once about having to wee in public, remember? But mine wasn't nearly as exciting as yours.

The sun is till shining here but it's not expected to stay that way for very long. I am about to go and sit on the balcony with your book about the Bay City Rollers which I am enjoying immensely. I was talking about it with my dear Swiss girlfriend. I never expected that the Longmuirs and Les McKeown would have made it to Switzerland all those years ago but my Kollegin knew exactly who I was talking about and it turned out she was also a fan. Ahhh, good times!

The balcony callls, my dear.

With much love and sunshiney quisses,


Tuesday, May 13, 2008

Something Noteworthy At Last!

Dearest Saucy Spit-Roast Stella,

Do you remember when I accompanied you (and all the lovely Male Macs, mini and otherwise) to the Eiffel Tower a year or so ago, and regaled you with the tale of my first visit?

Do you recall the hilarity? I, a fresh-faced maiden of 22 or 23, was taken to see the Eiffel Tower very late at night by French friends, after a night of inebriation. I was busting to go to the loo, and after duly admiring the brilliant, twinkly illuminations adorning that mighty edifice, politely excused myself to duck behind some bushes for a quick, yet discreet pipi. At the very second that I squatted down and unleashed an (even though I do say so myself) impressive stream of wee onto hallowed Parisian turf, ALL the Eiffel Tower lights went out. Poof! Just like that!

Of course my cruel and smarty-pants French friends burst into raucous laughter and convinced me that I must have peed on a vital electrical cable, thus extinguishing the glorious radiance of France's most famous monument. It took me a good few seconds for me to realise they were joking. I remain traumatised to this day.

Well, a funny thing happened in the office this afternoon. We suffered a power cut that went on and on, in fact it lasted for two hours. All the offices in our building and other parts of the village were affected. The lack of computers humming and the printer making ... erm ... printy noises, was most eerie. The inconvenience of being without e-mail, telephone and coffee was irritating. Work-wise,we are proofreading our monthly report this week and I, happily, was working from paper printouts to rest my eyes, so was not inconvenienced. My colleagues, who do all their proofreading on-screen, were reduced to tidying their desks, watering plants and filing stuff away. They'll be working late tonight, trying to catch up.

When I was ready to leave for home, I went to the loo (in the pitch dark). Can you guess? No sooner had my bum hit the seat than the lights came back on, in a very neat symmetry to my Eiffel Tower Pipi incident of sixteen years ago.

I do believe I may possess urinary super powers.

Dearest Bubbly Box of Brilliance,

Pfingsten yesterday and a spit roast today.... oh the imagery! it's a good job we are women of words and not pictures.

Darls, if the lovely Jemaine and his hanger-onner had contacted me, I could have told them what to expect from a spit roast. I am that depraved.

I am headed out for a walk now. I weighed myself this morning and want to spend the rest of the day crying into my fat rolls. It seems my particular talent for eating my bodyweight in fatty, salty and sugary foods has taken its toll on my figure. Again. Trust me to start eating healthily when the price of a friggin' iceberg lettuce is over 3CHF each!

More later, dearest ray of fluffiness,


Titillating Tuesday

Dearest Little Lotus Blossom and Light of my Life,

I hereby declare that today I am a Box of Fluffies! I don’t know why I am feeling so good. By rights I should be mourning your absence from my side, and spending my lonely days contemplating your dear photo, sniffling from time to time and wiping dust off my Shrine to Stella with my damp hankie, shouldn’t I?

Instead, I leapt from my bed with a single bound today, at an indecently early hour, cut a huge bouquet of sweet, white lilac from the garden with which to perfume my office, and sashayed to work in a pink blouse, B&W floral skirt, and new pink, morale-enhancing shoes!

I suspect my good mood may have something to do with the news report sent to me by The Lovely Mickle, concerning my heroes - manly, virile Jemaine and cutey-pie Bret from The Flight of the Conchords. It appears the innocent lads were invited to a ‘spit roast’ by a Scottish lassie, and accepted, thinking they were going to a barbecue… To their great embarrassment, it turns out to be slang for a threesome. A sexual event! Shock horror!

So obviously, the mere notion of a threesome with Bret and Jemaine (oooh, Jemaine!) has had a profound effect on my very vitals.

Yours, in quivering anticipation,



Monday, May 12, 2008



I do love Pfingsten, if only because at first glance it looks like an extremely dirty word!

The sun is shining brightly today so I am sitting inside watching television, as anyone with any sense would.

There's not a lot to tell. The weekend has been exceptionally quiet. Mothers Day was pleasant. I cooked my own dinner but Mr Mac served it to me. I wish I could add "in the nude" but alas! no.

I have absolutely nothing to tell you so I shall leave you with quisses instead,


Monday Morning Report

Dearest Holiday Hellraiser,

I do hope you are snoozing deeply and relaxing, making the most of your Pfingsten holiday lie-in, with no naughty husbands or cheeky children disturbing your rest!

I sloped in rather late to work, sporting some summery sunburn and a new, astoundingly bright fuschia-pink dress (the adjective "atomic" comes to mind), and was rather shocked to discover just how much more intense the colour is in daylight... When I chose it under the artificial shop lighting, it seemed a little more subdued and understated. Ah well, nobody can claim they didn't see me coming!

The sun simply hasn't stopped shining for about ten days now, so we once again had a fab weekend of swimming and walking, with a 20 minute attempt at tennis with offspring yesterday. I was SO bad at tennis, that it was great fun. My right arm hurts like buggery today though, so my typing may have little wobbles all over it. I hope it doesn't make you sea-sick to read.

All the lovely weather and R&R has completely emptied my brians, so you'll get no intelligence from me unless you write something so utterly witty and delightful that I will be motivated to go one better.

Hot lovin' and competitive kisses,


Friday, May 09, 2008

Sylv's Treats!

Ms. Mac's visit got off to a very good start. No sooner had she stepped off the plane than she wormed her way into my affections by presenting me with these sumptuous chocolates,

which were actually a gift from The Lovely Sylv...

That didn't stop Stella from basking in the reflected glory!

Friday Tidings

Dearest Sexy Stells,

Am slightly hungover today from too much fun and sun. Poor Sylv wants news of us, but she doesn’t realise just how many days off we get in France in May. It’s simply been impossible for me to drag my lazy butt to the computer, when the sun has been shining so aggressively, calling me to the sun lounger so thoughtfully placed in the garden by the Good Weather Fairy.

I took the offspring for a day's swimming, ping-pong, badminton and stupendous picnic yesterday. We had a wonderful day and were then invited to a friend’s house for the apéro.

I tasted PINK martini ("rosato”) on ice for the first time and it was fruity and delicious, similar to Pimms. We ate enough smoked salmon on wee toasts and assorted nibbles to qualify as dinner thank goodness, as Mr Grumpy Blackheart had a face like thunder when I guiltily hurried the sprogs into bed at 9 pm (school today!)

So what's happening today in that Den of Iniquity I fondly think of as Chateau Mac?

Lurvey lurve!