I was champing at the bit in excitement last Monday when I received an email from one of Australia’s top bloggers, the hugely popular Mrs Woog, informing me that one of my posts was to be published on her blog the following Sunday.
I was so thrilled I didn’t tell anyone in case I jinxed it.
I was so overwrought with titillated anticipation that when I reread my submitted post for the nine hundred and seventeeth time and noticed an alarming and conspicuous spelling mistake, I was too scared to email Mrs Woog and ask her if she could please correct it for me in case she decided I should be put in the too hard basket and cancel the whole shebang.
Here is the link to click on… Woogsworld
I was over at Magnetic Island with the inimitable Buzz Club all weekend and forced all the girls to check out my guest post on their phones.
“I’m going to be FAMOUS!” I shrilled.
“But hang on Pinky,” cautioned Kaz, as she screwed her nose up at the screen.
I was so thrilled I didn’t tell anyone in case I jinxed it.
I was so overwrought with titillated anticipation that when I reread my submitted post for the nine hundred and seventeeth time and noticed an alarming and conspicuous spelling mistake, I was too scared to email Mrs Woog and ask her if she could please correct it for me in case she decided I should be put in the too hard basket and cancel the whole shebang.
Here is the link to click on… Woogsworld
I was over at Magnetic Island with the inimitable Buzz Club all weekend and forced all the girls to check out my guest post on their phones.
“I’m going to be FAMOUS!” I shrilled.
“But hang on Pinky,” cautioned Kaz, as she screwed her nose up at the screen.
“This post is by someone called Pinky POINTER. You’re Pinky Poinker with a "k" aren’t you?”
I snatched the phone from her hand and stared at it in dismay. The story of my life flashing up in my face; the countless disappointments of people getting my name wrong, the forgotten invitations, the bittersweet, successive runner-up ribbons and participation awards I've received over the last few decades.
Mrs Woog, my idol, had called me Pinky Pointer.
“Poinker is a stupid name anyway, Pinky!” scowled Kaz. “You do realise ‘Poinker’ means ‘dickhead’ in Russian.”
I snatched the phone from her hand and stared at it in dismay. The story of my life flashing up in my face; the countless disappointments of people getting my name wrong, the forgotten invitations, the bittersweet, successive runner-up ribbons and participation awards I've received over the last few decades.
Mrs Woog, my idol, had called me Pinky Pointer.
“Poinker is a stupid name anyway, Pinky!” scowled Kaz. “You do realise ‘Poinker’ means ‘dickhead’ in Russian.”
My Russian translator, Kaz.
Normally, I would pay no heed to any of the rubbish that comes out of Kaz’s mouth, but rumour has it, she’s part of the Croatian Mafia so she’s probably correct in this instance.
Anyway… I DON’T CARE!
Normally, I would pay no heed to any of the rubbish that comes out of Kaz’s mouth, but rumour has it, she’s part of the Croatian Mafia so she’s probably correct in this instance.
Anyway… I DON’T CARE!
If the Gorgeous Mrs Woog wants to call me Pinky Pointer she can…and that’s all there is to it.
Please leave a comment on Woogsworld to make me seem more popular than I am... even if it's just to point out my spelling mistake.
Linking up with Emily at Have a Laugh on me! for Laughlink!
Please leave a comment on Woogsworld to make me seem more popular than I am... even if it's just to point out my spelling mistake.
Linking up with Emily at Have a Laugh on me! for Laughlink!
