Читать книгу ‘Knocked out by my nunga-nungas.’ - Louise Rennison - Страница 22

Libby has clanked off with Mr Pan, thank the Lord. I don’t like to be near her naked botty for long as something always lurks out of it.

I think Mum and Dad are playing “catch” downstairs. I can hear them running up and down giggling “Gotcha” and so on.

Sacré bloody bleu. Très pathetico. Vati’s only been back for eighty-nine hours and I feel more than a touch of the sheer desperadoes coming on.