Hmm. Lovely. It’s nice to be called lovely, yeah? I don’t mind that at all. Cos I am lovely. Most times.
And if it was that blogging maven Mum of One doing the ‘bestowing of the lovely’, then fine. All good. She’s a peach. She can call me whatever she wants, innit. And she just so happened to call me, The Loveliest Blogger in Town. Well! I say. THANK YOU, Mum of One. I’m honoured, proud, and farking JOYFUL about that. Wahoo! In town, she said! The loveliest IN TOWN. Yeah! *punches air*
Oh wait. What?
It’s a meme? I’ve been tagged in a meme?
I’VE BEEN TAGGED IN A MEME?
It’s lucky I heart Mum of One or I’d be pointing my giant laser at her arse right now.
The rules for this ‘lovely’ meme are pretty simple. Answer the questions, tag someone else. Whatevs. *scuffs floor*
1. If you could be any superhero, who would you be and why?
Who needs to be a farking superhero when you’ve got a giant laser and an extraordinary arse? People should want to be ME. Innit.
2. Marmite on toast. Match made in heaven or hell.
Heaven, obvs. Anyone who says otherwise is a wrong’un, and needs to be rounded up and chucked into my dungeon.
3. Boris Johnson. Discuss.
Eeewww, what? No.
4. Full fat, semi skimmed, or skimmed?
I have full fat. Cos my milkshake brings all the boys to the… no. Actually it’s cos Moo has full fat. So I do too.
5. Bum exercises. Squats, lunges, or sofa?
I have an extraordinary arse. EXTRAORDINARY. I need no exercises for my gluteus maximarse. It is extraordinary enough.
That’s it. Those five meagre questions constitutes the epithet of ‘lovely’. How? I have no farking idea. I am just humouring Mum of One. She so owes me a huge glass of wine.