Tash - KIDNAPPED!

Okay, so regardless of the fact that I have a TON of work, and I mean a TON of work, I have been kidnapped. By my own brother no less. What was it they say about kidnappers? You always know them or something. Well, my darling brother was never one to follow rules. Until now.

‘You’re a bastard.’ I told him ranting as he bundled (yes, bundled) me into the car, driving in his usual reckless manner.

‘I’m going to ask this one more time, and I demand an answer – what the hell?’

‘Just chill, sis, chill.’

‘Chill? Chill? CHILL?’

‘Supersonic much? Look, just chill sis, I’ve talked with McKenzie and it’s all fine and dandy. Now, just RELAX.’

‘Relax? Relax? RELAX?...’

Rolling his eyes and twisting the knob, he smiled at me (the little git!) before drowning me out with Motley Crue. O how wunnerful.

See, Auds, Nat, I DO post here. If only to rant about stupid little turds like Eric. For those of you who don’t know Eric, he’s my brother. Or was. He’s not likely to be my brother for much longer – wait until I can get my hands on that scrawny beanpole. He’s the little rebel in our family. Being twins, we both decided simultaneously that further education was not for us, and unlike me, Eric has decided to pursue an unusual career path…. Smokin’ hot Rock n’ roller. His words, not mine. Can you feel the sarcasm? You should.

Regardless to say, mother was shocked and Daddy thought it was a phase he would grow out of. Some parents just live in the Nile, don’t they?

So anyhow, somehow it turns out that Eric has convinced Daddy (the boss) to let me take three weeks off, to tour with him, and the ….Brownie hounds*. The slimy little…

Deep breaths, deep breaths. So here I am, locked up in a tourbus with three smelly boys. (All roadies, not a single one of them hot Auds) Do you feel my pain?

Dirty socks…pants (I’m informed they don’t even bother wearing boxers anymore – it’s just more laundry)…old pizza…a crusty chicken wing from KFC in my bed….old pasta….And all I have is my laptop, and my HTC. Feeling my pain yet?

All I have are the clothes on my back and a spare T shirt Eric thought to grab for me (obviously planning isn’t his strong point).

Feeling it yet?

No?

The brownie hounds are pop.

Oh yah, you feel my pain, don’t you.

*yah, I don’t really want to use their real name. We may attract weird teenyboppers and tweenies. There’s nothing more scary than fan girls, believe me. I’ve met plenty. But more about that in a later post.

Oh and this is a reference to The Breakfast Club (the rockin-est movie ever!). And yes, these boys really are brownie hounds. If you know what it means. If you don’t, look it up on urbandictionary.com