T-Mobile Advert – Francesca's Thoughts

“Don’t let her marry a Greek, will you?”

These are the wise words offered to my dad by my nan, about me, just as Will and Kate got married. At least, I think it was. I did rather have trouble paying attention after a while. Although the Archbishop – NOT THE POPE, ISOBEL, NOT THE POPE – and his crew were quite funny to watch, especially when the Archbishop stuck his hat back on. Harry is also hilarious, don’t you think? I was waiting for him to start pulling the moves ‘he’ did on the T-Mobile advert.

Also, Eugenie looked a bit like a moose in her hat. Sorry, love. Wear a better one at Harry and Pippa’s wedding, yeah?

Anyway, enough with all this wishy-washy wedding lark, on to some serious shit. In fact, it is so serious, I have to capitalise it: Serious Shit. This blog is called Indifferent Ignorance, but unless I’m discussing school, I don’t often get to talk about people with true indifferent ignorance. However, today I have found one. His name is Glenn Beck and I have to say, I agree with Frank. Of course SING is full of propaganda aimed at today’s youth, Mr. Beck. Next time you bash My Chemical Romance, get their fucking lyrics right. The same song hasn’t raised a load of money for the people of Japan, or anything. The band isn’t credited with saving lives or having one of the strongest and most loyal fanbases in the music industry. My Chem, obviously, are trying to form a cult and zap our brains.

Dude, you are four years too late, the Daily Mail got there first (hell yes, today is all about Britain).

Talking of Frank, here is a transcript of a conversation from today:

Me [to Isobel]: How’re Frank and Pansy?

Isobel: They’re good thanks. I need to clean them out.

Elizabeth [to no one in particular]: What?

Frank and Pansy, for those of you who don’t know, are Isobel’s pet fish. Frank, obviously, is named after me. Sadly, whenever I brought this up today, I got threatened with goat testicles.

Yes, you did read that right. My dad and brother went to Greece for ten days this easter, and as well as bringing back to usual olive oil, feta cheese and weird sweets (which I would have been perfectly happy with, efharisto) they also brought home a pair of goat testicles. They are so gross I can’t even bring myself to touch them, so Isobel’s new favourite threat is, “Be nice, Frank, or we’ll get the testicles out.”

The girls played catch with them. Arghhhh.

Mum handing me the testicles and then telling me what they are wasn’t the biggest surprise of the day, however. It turns out that I laugh like Janice in Friends.

Janice.

Oh my God (damn, I’m doing it again). I can never laugh again. Ever.