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.

Friday, February 20, 2009

I Feel Like a Fairy Princess!

Dearest Lovey Love,

Thank you so much! You never forget! I knew I should have married you, instead of that horrid Mr Forgetful Birthday-Hater.

I graciously accept your lovely little electronic greetings. Please, please do not send snow . I don’t care how lovely it is. I don’t want any more.

The day has been a little quiet so far. My lovely parents called last night. My lovely children hid a present for me before leaving on holiday, so I won’t be able to open it until their return late Saturday night. Lots of lovely Facebookers have titillated me with rude, naughty and nice messages. I’m basking in the afterglow!

Russell Brand has not yet arrived to give me my lap dance, but I’m expecting him any minute. Also, Sebastian Chabal is sure to pop by, bearing his sweaty jock strap for me to launder. So lots of excitement is in store! Of course I will report back to you in full technicolour detail.

Bouncy love and surprisingly youthful kisses,


Thursday, February 19, 2009

I'll Be Dragging This One Out Every Year- Get Used To It

Dearest Antipo,

It is now (despite the timestamp on this post- when are you going to sort that out, by the way?) one minute past midnight and officially your birthday! In honour of this momentous occasion I present this, the most appropriate of all YouTubes!

Also, don't be stalking out the letter box quite yet for a card professing my undying love for the next 365 days because I haven't sent it yet. I was snowed in, see and.....

Anyway, let's not get into all that now. Let's just concentrate on making sure you have a brilliant day. You deserve it!

Happy Birthday, Helen!



Monday, February 09, 2009

Grumpyface Monday

Dearest Dollface,

(actually, you are much prettier than a doll because you are a living entity. Also you don’t need bottle-feeding and your nappy changing, which is a huge bonus). I do hope you are well.

So sadly, my own features can only be described as hollow-eyed this morning, as I have clocked up one week of broken sleep thanks to Lord Sinus, who has been snorting and blowing his gigantic nose in the bed right next to me at odd hours of the night. Tonight I’m sleeping on the sofa, with only the gentle nocturnal rustlings of the canary to disturb me.

My tongue is now lined with pulsating mouth ulcers, which is the first symptom of severe fatigue in my organism. The second symptom is Homicidal Rage, which was due to hit next week (PMT) anyway. So I shall be a very Merry Widow indeed.

I hereby cordially invite you to the wake, and you can of course help me spend my inheritance and widow’s pension. What fun we will have!

Muchos cranky love and baggy-eyed kisses,


Friday, February 06, 2009

Dear Lovey,

Lunch with What's'erface was really, really noice. We are mutual friends of the lovely Marita in Melbourne and we must have met each other before prior to Wednesday. Rapperswil was all sunny and showing itself off and the pizza had enough anchovies on it to make me slurp San Pell like it was going out of style.

I've been out this morning picking up Mr Mac from the airport after a five day trip to Abu Dhabi. He is desperately trying to get me into bed for some rumpeh pumpeh but I am resisting his amorous advances as well as a militant dieter on Weight Watchers. I just cannae be arsed this morning. He did bring me some lovely pressies though so I suppose I should put out tonight as a special thanks.

Lawks a lordy! There is a time and a place for white vinyl gogo boots and I suspect that is it always shrouded in a smoky atmosphere with neon lighting and a stage equipped with sturdy poles. Never in broad daylight. But, you know, as long as the owner of the fuck me gogo boots likes them, then that's what counts.

Oh, Madness just came on the radio. I've just got a warm fuzzy feeling. Love a bit of Madness. Did you hear, Suggs was chairing the AGM last night of the Black Lesbians for the Rights of Supressed Animals league? It's Madness gone politcally correct!

And on that note, I bid you Adieu!

Mile baci, bella Antipo,



Unfeasibly Happy Friday

Dearest Cheating Ms. Mac,

So how did your “lunch date” with lovely Ms. What’s'ErName go? Is her nose prettier than mine? I bet she slurped her soup though. You know that nobody, but nobody, has such refined table manners as I.

Anyway, I’m not jealous. Not at all! She probably hasn’t yet earned her position in your silver heart-shaped photo frame collection.

In fact, I’m feeling inexplicably happy and bouncy today! You know that moment in the opening credits to The Mary Tyler Moore Show, when she arrives in Minneapolis, throws her beret in the air and twirls around for sheer joy? I feel just like that today.

Oh that’s right, I forgot that you weren’t even an embryo in the Seventies. You don’t know what you missed!

Anyway, a possible reason to explain my unwarranted perkiness (because it is still very cold here) is that I encountered a not very young woman on my way to work this morning when crossing my impossibly quaint cobblestoney bridge. She was all dressed up to the nines, with way too much makeup and exaggerated hair-dye. She was wearing white vinyl gogo boots with chunky heels.

I smiled at her. I then raised my eyes to the heavens and thanked the Little Baby Cheeses that those boots were “gracing” her legs and not mine.

Love and worming-my-way-back-into-your-affections-whatever-it-takes kisses,


Thursday, February 05, 2009

SNF Review

Dearest Slumpy Ms. Mac,

I am severely envious of your lunch date today and will undoubtedly have to scratch her eyes out if you ever have the temerity (or indeed stupidity) to introduce me to her.

But Guten Appetit anyway!

My enjoyment of the music, young John Travolta’s pointy collars and spinny dancing during yesterday’s special viewing of Saturday Night Fever was slightly marred by my judgemental adult brain which kept saying things like:

My God! No wonder the fillum was not suitable for me at the age of twelve, my dears the language! Fuck and Cunt all over the show.

My God! The hypocrisy of the Italian-American community in Brooklyn in the 70s, where young women were either ‘nice girls’ or ‘cunts’. The boys were constantly on the make, trying to get the girls into their car for a quick shag, only thinking to ask them if they were ‘fixed’ once penetration had already occurred. Poor Father Frank Jnr, upon leaving the church received no love and support from his mother, only condemnation for the shame he had ‘brought upon the family’. The young guy who got his girlfriend pregnant killed himself rather than be forced to marry her! Things are so very different today, thankfully.

My God! The RACIST language used by the young studs in referring to the Hispanic and Black communities! It was so hostile and aggressive! I guess my comfortable middle class upbringing has ill equipped me to understand the frustrations of the young, urban, testosterone-fuelled males stuck in shitty jobs with no exciting career prospects.

But something very nice happened on my way to work this morning. It had rained heavily overnight and half the sky was still covered with black, looming rain clouds, although the other half was blue and the sun was just coming up. My eyes were treated to the arresting sight of a delicate plume of smoke from somebody’s chimney, touched pink and coral by the sun’s first rays, against a backdrop of the black and broody sky. Also a dove was perched on the chimney pot, turning its wise, wee face to aforementioned sun ray.

Naturally I slapped my thigh in annoyance at not having my camera with me, for you can be sure that I would have taken the most beautiful photo ever, and it would certainly have won me the Nobel Prize for Nature Photography. Oh yes.

So, love & stuff,



Wednesday, February 04, 2009

Homegirl Wednesday

Dearest Darls!

Have just got the brats off to school and am now going to watch my 7 euro DVD of (don't laugh) Saturday Night Fever.

I somehow have never seen it: I was 12 years old when it first came out in the cine and in New Zillund it was an R13 fillum and I was too young-looking to try and cheat my way in. So now, only 31 years later, I can enjoy the music of the Bee Gees, and the young JT's disco dancing, while drinking tea and munching a giant pain au chocolat in the privacy of my own home, while the plebs are out at work and it's minus three point five degrees outside!

But first have to cut my toenails and give the canary her anti-biotics. Such is my exciting life!

Also, I had two lovely surprises this morning: an email from The Lovely Veronica in the US and a phone call from The Lovely Gabrielle. They both said "Oh Antipo, our lives are deep, dank, desperate pits of misery without your wittering on the internet, won't you please get over yourself and start blogging again?"*

So apparently I am not a forgotten entity and they both motivated me to get the hell over my Blog Slump and share my pearly wisdom with all our lovely readers again. Isn't that nice?

Of course this means that you too will have to get your arse into gear again, as I can hardly be expected to carry the heavy responsibility of The Naughty Blog on my fragile little shoulders, all by myself, can I?

Muchos encouraging besos,


* I think that's what they said, although my ears haven't been cleaned in a long time, so I can't guarantee the 100% accuracy of the quote.