‘…startled by his furry shorts!’ - Louise Rennison

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       Copyright

      HarperCollins Children’s Books An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd. 1 London Bridge Street London SE1 9GF

       www.harpercollins.co.uk

      First published in Great Britain in hardback by HarperCollins Children’s Books in 2006

      First published in Great Britain in paperback by HarperCollins Children’s Books in 2007

      Copyright © Louise Rennison 2006

      The author asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work

      A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library

      All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this ebook on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins ebooks

      HarperCollinsPublishers has made every reasonable effort to ensure that any picture content or written content in this ebook has been included or removed in accordance with the contractual or technological constraints in operation at the time of publication

      Source ISBN: 9780007222094

      Ebook Edition © JUNE 2008 ISBN: 9780007279029

      Version: 2017-08-18

      Contents

       Title Page Copyright In Memory And Love Of Dezza The Vicar. A Note From Georgia Living In Fiasco Land On The Brink Of Madnosity Back In The Cake Shop Of Agony Girdey Loins Mate Of The Century MacPants Georgia's Glossary Keep Reading About the Author Also by the Author About the Publisher

       In memory and love of Dezza the Vicar.

      Big luuurve to my family and friends, old and new. (Look, I'm not saying some of you are old, I'm just saying that some of you are newer than others… er… but not in a less old way. Oh, look, I just love you, right?)

      Enormous panty-splitting thanks to my editors and publicists and designers and sales people at HarperCollins in Billy Shakespeare land and Hamburger-a-gogo land.

      Thanks as always to the Empress.

      But mostly thank you to my lovely, lovely readers (which now even include some vatis, which is a bit alarming).

       A Note from Georgia

      Dear worldwide Chums and Chumettes,

      (Hang on a minute, when I say “worldwide” I don't mean “enormously fat”, I merely mean internationalwise.) Where was I before you got the wrong end of the stick? Oh yes, do you know how much I love you all? A LOT. That is how much. I do, it is le fact. Why else would I spend so much time rifling through my creative drawers (oo-er) writing another diary?

      Actually, as I say to anyone who will listen (i. e., no one), I am practically a saint in human form. But there’s very little thanks in it. For instance, the other day I helped a little old lady across the road. I didn't have to. In fact, I was in a tearing dash on my way to get new lip gloss. But I did, and do you know what she did? She hit me with her umbrella! She said she didn't want to cross the road, she was waiting for her friend to pick her up to go pole dancing!!!

      That is the kind of world we live in.

      The elderly insane, like Elvis Attwood, parents, etc., say that young people only care about lipstick and snogging. I say hahahaha. If they would take the trouble to read works of geniosity like mine, they would soon realise that we do many useful and creative things. Who invented the terms “piddly-diddly department” and “pooparlour division” that are used in schools all over the world? Before I bothered to invent “nunga-nungas”, what fools we felt calling our breasty substances, er… breasts.

      Do you see?

      I think you do.

      Goodbye and God bless you all.

      And also S’laters.

      Georgia

      p.s. And I invented nervy b. and f.t. and so on.

      p.p.s. And the Viking disco inferno dance.

      p.p.p.s. I could go on but I feel slightly tired with

      creativitosity and I may… zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

       Living in Fiasco land

      Saturday June 18th

      9:00 p.m.

      I can’t believe I am once more on the rack of romance.

      And also in the oven of luuurve.

      And possibly on my way to the bakery of pain.

      And maybe even going to stop along the way to get a little cake at the cake shop of agony.

      Shut up, brain. Shut up.

      Looking out of my bedroom window at the stars

      9:01 p.m.

      It says in my Meditation for the Very Backward book that it is soothing looking at the universe and stars and everything.

      Ommmm.

      9:03 p.m.

      The meditation book is wrong. God, stars are annoying. Winking and blinking like twinkly idiots. Why are they so cheerful?

      9:03 p.m. and a

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