This weekend I paid someone to butter my bottom and pull my hair.
You could be forgiven for thinking that I’d fallen through the looking glass into a Fifty Shades novel, but instead I had a weekend away with some girlfriends. (The only grey we encountered were the skies on Sunday.)
What happens on tour, stays on tour – so I can’t tell you just what went on, but I will say that we shared some great meals. There was wine, massages, laughs, tears and fluffy pillows, but the rest of what went on this weekend is in the vault. We bought books, I’ve even heard a rumour that one of us made her bed each morning!
It certainly wasn’t the debaucherous weekend that would once have constituted a girls weekend away, but I’m mellowing in my old age. Can I interest anyone in a sales pitch for the pilot episode of my new television series of Girls Gone Mild?
What I will share from the weekend is a beaut joke I heard yesterday:
A ringer from a huge cattle station in outback Australia appeared before St. Peter at the Pearly Gates.
“Have you ever done anything of particular merit?” St. Peter asked.
“Well, I can think of one thing,” the ringer offered. ”Once, on a trip to the back blocks of Broken Hill in New South Wales. I came across a gang of bikies, who were threatening a young sheila I told them to leave her alone, but they wouldn’t listen. So, I approached the largest and most heavily tattooed bikie and smacked him in the face, kicked his bike over, ripped out his nose ring and through it on the ground.”
I yelled, “Now, back off! Or I’ll kick the $&^% out of the lot of yas!”
St. Peter was impressed, “When did this happen?”
“Just a couple of minutes ago … “
The joke wasn’t the only thing that bought tears to my eyes in Mapleton. This from a bookshop!
what did you get up to this weekend?
know a good joke?
do you want to bankroll my television series?