Dearest Soulie and Fellow Queen of Bitchery,

You are very naughty indeed to mock a fellow blogger in your private email to me this morning. But have no fear, I am indeed the Soul of Discretion, and would never breathe a word to anybody about a certain, easily identifiable, one-armed, spectacularly humourless blogger from Timbuktu, who - the poor thing - has suffered the dreadfully painful removal of her funny bone, and unwittingly provides us with hours of mirth and exchanges of catty remarks. She even provoked my very first criticism of a sister blogger, and you were so proud of me! No my Dear, your secret is safe with me.

So, I was totally incommunicado yesterday, locked inside a sweaty theatre all day, with hundreds of hysterical and overexcited miniature prima donnas and stage mothers, for the Big, Important Dress Rehearsal of the – wait a minute! I’m not becoming a Bloody Ballet Bore, am I? You would tell me if my one-track blogging has you stifling yawns, wouldn’t you?

Yours, in fear and trembling,

Antipo

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx