Can you keep a secret?
No, I mean, really. You can’t tell anyone. If this got out, oooooh. I’d be in trouble. But I’ve got to tell someone or I’ll just bust.
So, did you hear what happened?
Em goes to the store yesterday and bumps into Wendy in the condiment aisle. There were some words, apparently, about who could kick whose ass, Scout or Lucy. It got ugly. Wendy pulled Em’s hair and threatened to spin it. Em whipped out a pair of travel scissors and sliced her corrugated hem.
Seriously, you can’t breathe a word of this.
I guess the cat-fight thing only came up because Cari and Claudia had been over in Atlantic City (you already know about their little problem, right? Oh, damn…. Don’t tell anyone I slipped, but that’s why Claudia’s stash is so limited, and why Cari’s dog are so small. Their finances are pretty strapped most of the time, if you know what I mean.) Anyway, while they were there, there was the usual blogshop talk, Cari talking about cats versus dogs, how to shop for spinning wheels and elephant tusks, and they were just walking along, and then they saw something.
You’ll never guess.
Right there, in Atlantic City, (they were walking back to the motel — no money left for a cab — you know how it goes), they ran into the Harlot coming out of this run-down building in a real bad part of town. She looked tore-up, all scared and small, and she was clutching something under her coat. When she saw the girls, she mumbled something about "crack silk haze" but c’mon. We know what she was really talking about, right? Yarn. Yeah, right. You know they don’t call her that for nothin’.
Where was I? You’re such a good listener. I know I can trust you. Not like that Carrie. She’s something else, huh? Twins. Yeah, right. You know she’s just making up that twin sister Cathy, right? Glasses on, glasses off, like we’re gonna fall for that. I mean, NORma. She’s got some nerve, huh?
I never talk like this, really. You don’t mind, do you? We all need to vent every now and then, huh? It just gets to me, it all piles up sometimes, and I realize that I’m just so MAD about what I see going on in blogland. Frauds. They’re all frauds.
Just look at Ryan and her Dulaan scam. Who’s going to believe that knitters made that many items for charity? That’s just ridiculous. Just because she has The Mighty Knitter (TMK) at her beck and call to do all that knitting…. Well, I don’t think she’s paying her enough. All I’m saying.
And I guess while I’m blabbing, I’ll just mention this: Iris? That stuff about the temp job? You know she’s actually the CEO of a company that imports alpacas to exploit at fiber festivals, right? She’s loaded and she has way more fiber than she’ll ever be able to use. Okay, I guess I do sound a little bitter. Aren’t you?
You really didn’t know any of this? Oh, geez. I can’t believe I’m such a big-mouth today. Must be the champagne. You know Alison? He always tell me to watch what I’m saying after the bubbly.
Oh, damn. Now that was a big secret to let slip.
We can’t gossip any more like this. Lala will be here soon to pick me up, and if she thinks we’re in any way involved, like with a capital I, she’ll go all pugilistic on you. No, Janine, really. I know I was supposed to help you out of the restaurant and all, what with your foot, but you REALLY don’t want Lala to see us with your arm over my shoulder. You know those Buddhists. Just hop out. C’mon. Hippity hop. You can do it.
And thanks for listening.
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