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.

Sunday, December 21, 2008

Slothful Sunday

Dearest Ms. Mac,

Darls, are you leaving for Bonnie Scotland in the morning? I saw on your Twitter that you are all packed, and I know you generally do that at the last minute, lol!

Safe trip Lovey and please please please sext me all important food and itinerary details in real time, also the colour of Mr. Mac's face as he tries to fit all your clever packing into the car boot.

I wish I was going with you!

We had a v. quiet weekend recovering from our snotty noses and bronchial coughs. Kids and I watched all three Austin Powers movies, yaay!

You know how I thought I had The Big Talk with Popo all done and dusted? Well today she asked me what orgasm means. I replied very simply "It's a sex thing". She said "Oh. Yuck!" and went back to playing with her Polly Pockets. So that's nice.

Will miss you horribly, as usual and my Christmas will be grey and dire. But I shall survive.

Muchos seasonal Besos,


Thursday, December 11, 2008

Been Out In The Snow And Other Stuff


Please make sure when you bring up Christmas dinner that you get yourself invited and don't make the old dear think you're inviting her again. That would be a complete disaster.

I know what you mean about being skint at this time of year. Oh, the plans I have to buy pressies but they all have to wait until payday- when we are always rich as Croesus for 24 hours; the Payday Barons. I do feel terrible though- your poor kids have to gather their own twigs from the forest for presents and I got to enjoy the company of you and Her Madgesty for a glorious weekend in September. How spoiled am I?

Went out for a walk in the snow today. I go out walking for an hour - hour and a half every Tuesday and Thursday morning between the hours of 9:30 and approx 11am. Today it started snowing at 9:29 and didn't let up until about 10:57. Fucking typical. I am cold but I feel awesome. Slip sliding about in the white powdery stuff does wonder for your quads and glutes. I have buns of steel, baby, BUNS. OF. STEEL.

Muchos besos, my beloved bruised private dancer,


Thrilling (said with sarcasm) Thursday!

Dearest Darls,

Have absolutely no physical injuries or mental handicaps to report today - that's the good news. On the other hand, there is an equally distinct absence of excitement and thrills in my life right now.

As you know, I don't like using the C-word at this time of year. But you will be shocked to know, that oweing to last month's financial disability, I did not rush out early and get all organised for the festive season. Indeed, I am positively laid back about it this year. My offspring may well be unwrapping a bundle of twigs from the forest in the guise of old-fashioned, vintage, retro toys. The festive dinner will probably all come out of cans and sachets. Or, I may try angling to get invited to the in-laws' place instead, and thereby not have to feed anybody!

Going to practice my best buttering up of the old girl right now.

Later Babe!

Scroogey love and broke kisses,



Tuesday, December 09, 2008

Tuesday Bluesday

Dearest Darls,

Sorry for not replying yesterday. I am in one of my slumps where I can't be bothered doing anything or anybody. Plus, there is quite literally nothing to tell you. Nothing of interest is going on here and I'm being possibly the most boring person in the whole wide world at the moment. Last night I made James brush his teeth with soap because his language is so spectacularly foul that it makes me blush and Patrick is an obnoxious arsehole most of the time. Just as I think I might have them both killed, they go and give me a cuddle or make me cheese on toast or something and I am conned into thinking that they're not really that bad at all, are they? Ewan is being ok, I suppose.

Mr Mac is fine, I'm fine (apart from being slumpy) and life is just fine and nice.

How are you since your mishaps on the dancefloor? I have heard it can be murder out there. Poor bruised Antipo. I send you muchos besos for your injuries and big hug for your wounded pride. But really, love, handstands? That was showing off and you know what they say, Gott straft sofort!

With lots of love and kisses,

Monday, December 08, 2008

Manky Monday

Dearest Darls,

Am feeling damnably groggy and stiff today, due to having fallen on my bum twice (!) during the dance recital yesterday. We were not dancing on our usual stage with non-slip floor covering, but instead were down on the tiled floor where the Old Folks' Club of my wee village was having its annual Christmas thé dansant (dinner and a show).

We knew about the problem floor, and got through two dances very carefully by performing with slightly subdued movements, and without mishap. However, during the French Can-Can, I threw myself into a handstand with great gusto and my hand slipped, sending me crashing inelegantly to the floor on my elbow and shoulder. In the scramble to regain my footing and catch up to the other dancers, my feet failed to gain purchase and I landed amusingly on my bum. So that was nice.

I carried on with a smile on my face like a real trouper, and limped to the dressing room to get some magic spray on my bruises and lots of sympathy from the other dancers. Yay! Body is intact, pride somewhat dented. I just hope the video of the event doesn't make it onto the internet too quickly!

My alarm clock rang offensively early this morning, jolting me out of a fabulous dream, where I was stuck in a lift with Sebastien Chabal. He turned out to be quite the philosopher and we were right in the middle of a deeply intellectual conversation at the time. Shit.

So I do hope you have an equally riveting tale to tell. Perhaps you were assaulted by a malevolent hoover during the weekend? Or locked in the laundry room with George Clooney, who just happened to be passing through the Village of the Dammned and was seized with an uncontrollable urge to wash his smalls? I want ALL the juicy details, mind!

Much cracky-bones love & hurty kisses,



Friday, December 05, 2008

Flat Froiday

Dearest Darls,

Am knackered! End of the week exhaustion from extra dance rehearsals, I suppose. Have still not come down off my cloud of Thanksgiving glory to which The Lovely Doc treated us last weekend.

Daughter will be dancing for the Telethon tomorrow, so I'm laying bets as to whether Mr Grumpy Blackheart will be hauling his carcass out of bed at 9:30 am to watch the apple of his eye in her moment of glory, or not!

Will do roast turkey leg and brussels sprots for lunch (I like sprots so much better than sprouts, don't you?)

Then on Sunday I have to get all glammed up for dancing:

(1) The French CanCan (will show my knickers again, all slutty-like)

(2) The Schoolmistresses (classical ballet, all classy-like, with strict looks and menacing shakes of the ruler)

(3) The Secretaries (jazz ballet, all sexy and feline moves, meaningful stares from our swivel chairs, letting down hair from a bun and throwing gigantic fake specs into the audience).

Quite a fun weekend shaping up! I do hope you can top that, Mrs Fabulous 'n' Exciting!

Muchos smarmy besos,

Dame Antipo Fonteyn