1:55pm On the bus
Why is wombat land full of aged men wearing blue or white singlets, disturbingly short shorts and baldy heads? I am sitting next to one right now. He said, "Owzit goin'?" like all wombat land dwellers do. What does he mean? I just assumed that he was sharing some sort of native greeting and replied with an equally as homey one; "fiddly diddly dee!" Oh. He didn't seem to like that. Goodbye Mr Baldy man. Come back soon. Why did I do that? Now I am getting weird looks from the bus driver. Please do not kick me off! I am but a poor Irish girl, wavering about in the wind of womanhood. Underdeveloped in the land of bazoomers and living the teenage dream of red bottomosity. Girls of wombat land, I HAVE THE RED BOTTOM! TAKE ME NOW!
There are a lot of pretty girls in the land of Oz. Though, most of them are so brown from the blazing sun that they could hind in amongst the woodlands at home, or in amongst my legs (oo – er) if they were being chased by Dingos. There'd be no chance of being found. Not unless the Dingo's had unnatural tracking talents like my brother Pippin. He once lost a sandwich in his room and found it within at least five minutes. Now, for a normal room, one would assume that a sandwich would take less than five minutes to locate. Let me first point out that Pippin's room is NOT a normal room.
I can't describe it, for I have never been brave enough to venture in, but that's because there have been noises. Wild noises. And before you creepy crusts start bouncing with excitement, I did not mean 'wild noises' in such an obscene manner. What I meant is that Pippin must be hiding a colony of badgers or something in his room. I do love badgers.