I was invited to the polo!
But I declined.
If it was a day of polo involving cries of 'oh, jolly good!' and 'good show, old sport!' and sipping copious amounts of champagne whilst eating finger food and laughing uproariously, I would've said yes.
But I strongly suspect it would have been a day of sitting on an uncomfortable deck chair, with a group of loud blokes yelling 'get back on ya horse, ya bloody WOMAN!' with no alcohol (because everyone's driving, see) in direct burnyburny sunlight until I looked like a big chunk of pork crackling.
So I said no.
But John has gone. "Oh!" I exclaimed, in my plummiest voice. "Do cut your nails, John, or the posh folk will look at you and exclaim 'why! He has the hands of a common potato farmer, mumsy!' and it will be so dreadfully embarrassing. And make sure you take your blazer in case those awfully messy horseys kick mud onto your shirt. That would be just terrible."
John grunted.
"Perhaps you could have a lovely cup of tea while you watch, and eat cucumber sandwiches! Oh, gosh, how delightful!"
John gave me the evil eye and left the room. I am so snarky.
I am now faced with a Sunday all by my lonesome, and simply don't know what to do. I mean, what can a person do with a budget of $5?
But I declined.
If it was a day of polo involving cries of 'oh, jolly good!' and 'good show, old sport!' and sipping copious amounts of champagne whilst eating finger food and laughing uproariously, I would've said yes.
But I strongly suspect it would have been a day of sitting on an uncomfortable deck chair, with a group of loud blokes yelling 'get back on ya horse, ya bloody WOMAN!' with no alcohol (because everyone's driving, see) in direct burnyburny sunlight until I looked like a big chunk of pork crackling.
So I said no.
But John has gone. "Oh!" I exclaimed, in my plummiest voice. "Do cut your nails, John, or the posh folk will look at you and exclaim 'why! He has the hands of a common potato farmer, mumsy!' and it will be so dreadfully embarrassing. And make sure you take your blazer in case those awfully messy horseys kick mud onto your shirt. That would be just terrible."
John grunted.
"Perhaps you could have a lovely cup of tea while you watch, and eat cucumber sandwiches! Oh, gosh, how delightful!"
John gave me the evil eye and left the room. I am so snarky.
I am now faced with a Sunday all by my lonesome, and simply don't know what to do. I mean, what can a person do with a budget of $5?
- Sit at home and swipe away the stupid twatting flies. Oh, wait, already doing that.
- Go for a lovely walk in the extreme heat, perhaps until I die from heat stroke.
- Rack up an enormous debt on my credit card by buying booze, whores, and shoes. YEAH!
- Buy a tallie and a packet of Chicos and sit on my arse watching b-grade pornography.
- Read blogs and watch vlogs. Unfortunately, I think I have already read and watched the WHOLE internet.
posted by GBE at 12:13 pm
10 Comments:
See now, this exact post outlines all that I adore about you - cute new photo, teasing John, teasing the toffs, talk of porn and being terribly funny.
Well done old chap.
I say Muffy, is the watercress tolerable this season? And bye the bye have you seen the dreadful tresses on Lord Phineas's newest "play-toy", I must say perhaps I too can afford the luxury of a headache next Sunday and avoid this damn polo thing for a "roll in the hay", say what?
Enjoy being a real person, that's the way we like you,...and would you please pass those lovely little creamed cheese and guava jelly finger sandwiches. Oh, more "bubbly",daaahling?
You are very good at snarky. I love it!
The WHOLE internet? Really? Did you see that thing with that guy? Or the dudes doing that stunt? What does lie at the end of the internet, an evil artitect of sorts?
Who the hell plays polo?
Oh! I love Cold Comfort Farm. Nice choice.
Ever since the movie "Pretty Woman" came out, I've wanted to go to a polo match and stomp divots while my hair becomes charmingly tousled, and get talked to by a handsome polo player while I'm barefoot and petting his horse.
Oh yeah - also while I'm skinny and completely gorgeous.
And rich.
There, I'm done now.
P.S.
"Great ankles". While interesting (in a shoe salesman eye, provocative, in a choreographers eyes, and "what the hell?" in a blogger's eyes. What has this got to do with the price of tea in China?
(And what is a "chicos"?)
I know we Yanks are "abrasive, uneducated, louts", but I'm trying to keep up with the changing world I live in!
(p.s. The you looking out the window at some "tower" location is definately a secret look at who you are!)
Mr Guinness - Chicos are chocolate Jelly Babies. They keep them segregated from the other colours in Australia. It's not politically correct at all.
Lucy, thank you, tally ho and what not. I think I will change the sidebar pic though as I am finding myself mildly freaked out by seeing my pasty white pins every time I load up this page.
Mr Guinness, by jove, old chap, ra ra ra, jolly good! Do you fancy a game of croquet? We could lunch on caviar! Do remind me to bring my parasol, sport.
Miss Devylish, thank you lovely, I pride myself on my snarkiness and horribly blatant sarcasm. It shall be my downfall, I fear.
Adam, yes the WHOLE internet. I've seen those guys doing that thing, that thing with the thing, and that girl putting the thing in her thing. Yes, that one too. And that one. There is no end to the internet. The further you dig, the more you are woven into the net, until escape is impossible. Muahaha.
Mark, well, chaps in blazers and pastel jumpers, I would say. Seriously though, the polo player John was talking to was apparently huge and beardy and everybody felt quite sorry for his horse.
Nails, ta, I'm enjoying it muchly. I hadn't actually heard of it before (ignorant wench that I am) but Pomgirl gave me her expert recommendation.
Marcheline, the scene sounds perfect the way you described it, particularly the noticeable lack of Richard Gere's presence, because he is a bit of a weirdo.
Mr. Guinness, well thank you for my first ever ankle compliment. I think the picture is also very 'what the hell' but I thought I'd throw in something a little different to the standard back-of-head shots.
I am currently completely obsessed with Chicos and eat them all day at work. It is as if a scientist tried to make a chocolate jelly baby, but completely botched it, tested the botched effort on some punters and VOILA. Chico magic.
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