An adaptation of an adaptation of Roald Dahl's adaptation of Cinderella starring all of you.

This is strictly fictional. Any similarity to real persons is purely
coincidental.
Please note that no offence is intended. The co-author waives any
responsibility for any tears, fights or questioning of sexual
preferences as a result of the content of this post.
Please note that most of the adaptation of the adaptation of the
original has been left in tact and all lameness is to be excused as a
15 year old's humour is generally lame.
Ahem:

I guess you think you know this story?
You don't. The real one's much more gory.
The phoney one, the one you know,
was cooked up years and years ago,
and made to sound all soft and sappy,
just to keep extremists happy.

Mind you, they got the first bit right,
the bit where in the early night,
Di and Chants, looking hot,
departed for the parking lot.

While pale and grinning Jarrorella,
locked himself in Tessa's wine cellar,
where Kristy, who wanted things to eat,
began to nibble at his feet.

He bellowed "Help!" and "Let me out!"
Fairy Jono heard his shout.
Appearing in a ball of snot,
he said "what's up, you drunken clot?"

"What's up?!" cried Jarrod, "can't you see?
I feel as drunk as a punk in pee.
There is a disco at Marsha's palace.
The rest have gone, and I am jalous!"

"I want a dress! I want a coach,
a g-string and a plastic brooch!
And silver flippers, two of those,
and extra laddered pantihose!
Done up like that I guarantee,
that Koos van Zyl will fall for me!"

So Jono said, "Hang on, you tick."
He gave J's bum a mighty kick.
J beat his head against the wall,
It missed his bum and hit his ....

Jon gave a sigh and rubbed his face,
and J appeared at Marsha's place.

J and Koos danced for very long,
and to every single Kurt Darren song.

But midnight struck, J shouted "Heck!,
I'd better run to save my neck."
"No!" cried Koos, "Alas! Alack."
K grabbed J's dress to hold him back.

"No!" begged Jarrod, "Let me go!"
The dress was ripped from head to toe.
J lost his g-string on the stair,
and ran out in no underwear.

The ending has no happy magic,
but is quite weird and rather tragic.
For J ran crying to his mum,
as the sun beat down and burnt his bum.

Every third one tastes like catfood

Have you all found happiness or are you too still
hindered by the fact that every third wafer in the packet tastes like
cat food?

My mom is driving very badly but then again I think that it could be a
group mentality thing going on. Do they make pills for this?

I am preparing myself for a day of wishing that I had a few hundred
elastic bands with me to shoot my boss on his gleaming forehead
because he seriously irritates me. I keep telling myself that he's old
and I should be patient and be a nice girly, but the urge to throw all
my paperwork out the window and shoot elastics at him until he goes
back to his own darn office, is getting stronger by the day.

I keep thinking about monkeys. Do you think a monkey would be ok with
dentures? I mean, if they were put in only at meal times by a person?
Or could a monkey live on soft mushy stuff?

p.s: it's the chocolate wafers. Every third one. Third being whichever
one you happen to eat third. No, you can't eat two and then start
again tomorrow. The third one will always get you. Go on, try it. It's
disgusting!

Rules for when I'm irritable

1. You are not allowed to do/not do, say/not say, commit/not commit any
thing/act that makes you look/sound like a 5 year old/a hermit who's
never seen another human being/a deranged lunatic if, and soley if,
nobody has ever told you not to.

Read it a few times and just when you think you've got it, start again.

My dear friends, to stop my hair from turning 10 different shades of
grey and to keep most of it, I am telling you all, right now, in this
post, (write it down on your curtains if you must) that you
shouldn't. You mustn't. Don't. Ever. Or seldom. Not that any of you
have but as I just discovered that pure ignorance is a good excuse for
absolutely no common sense and an even better excuse to annoy the
daylights out of me, so I thought I'd just say "don't do it!"

You're confused? You mean, you don't know what you mustn't do? Yes, nor do I anymore. This was a while back actually and I haven't got a clue what was irritating me so much at that point. Something to do with acting like a deranged lunatic and playing ignorant about how annoying that can be at inopportune times like in the middle of a theatre production or at a funeral. But I can't guarantee that that was it.

It may have been chewing wet wool loudly in front of me or whistling or doing the Charleston backwards. I just don't remember.

If you've been bombarded by chain mail from people you really don't like.

If you are secretly superstitious and a completely gullable idiot,
please forward all your chain mail to (aw damn! I had to take it out but her name rhymes with Gracey).

Maybe include Bill Gates too so that he can donate 10c for every email
you send to the "Save Johnny from being beaten with hot apple pies"
fund.

Oh, anything religious would be great too. Maybe something along the
lines of "If you don't starve yourself for two weeks and just pray all
day and forward this to 250 people, you're going to hell. Send it to
273 people and God will forgive you all your sins". This should
ideally accompany a corny flash or powerpoint presentation with
sparkley pictures.

Then, a petition is definitely a must. Perhaps a "stop putting dog
food in our gravy powder" with the names of your aunt, your uncle, all
their cats and dogs, their children (including the 6 week old baby)
and all the names of your favourite superheroes too.
Please remember to copy in that guy you want to get fired and pretend
that he's that contact person.

Oh yes, vouchers! Pretty much the same as the petition. Maybe just add
some pretty piccies to add to all the excitement.

If you have any HUGE and random attachments to add, (pics of your
gran, of your teddy collection, of your ex just waking up, etc) send
them too.

And lastly, if asked nicely to stop and then later not so nicely,
don't even pay attention. You just keep going 'cause you never know if
you may just lose out.

If people would stop hoping for a pot of gold to fall out of the sky
and hit them on the head because they forwarded all this email
rubbish, they may have actually got some work done and earned it!

Anything to get out of studying

A cat is like a god. If you try to save the tiny mouse from the cat,
the cat will flick it's paw and make the tiny mouse run straight into
your bedroom.

You will then somehow reason that eating half a roll of bioplus sweets
will aid you in studying and prevent all paranoia of the mouse running
up your bed and nibbling at your sleeping body later on. Your
reasoning will be faulty.

You will secretly hope that the mouse will be different and, when
running up your chest towards your sleepy face, will stop and converse
in English. Or French. Or heck, even Zulu because this will make it
all better. Ideally, it should know and understand your study material
too but let's be realistic, a mouse wouldn't be interested in anything
unrelated to astronautical studies so that's just wishful thinking.

You devise a plan, since you've just found a talking mouse, that
benefits everyone. Well, almost everyone. Other house occupants
excluded. You run to your gran/mom/dad/sibling and shriek as loudly as
possible "WAKE UP! I have a talking mouse! His name is
Frederick/Jean-Pierre/Sipho!" (naturally, you should've asked after
"hello/bonjour/sawubona")

In my case, it would have no effect as such behaviour is almost
expected. But with you, no doubt that you will be excused from your
exam due to medical reasons and you can relax and take the time in the
institution to get off that bioplus high.