I like the idea that I can talk to any teenage girls. You know, in a language that makes sense to them.

Dad has brought me a cup of tea in bed this morning! I said, 'Vati, why are you waking me up in the middle of the night? Are you on fire?

Jas, you are three hundred miles away. You would have to have nunga-nungas the size of France for Jock to be able to rest his hand on them.

This soft grass suggests 'softness' to me, but also at the same time 'lying-down-ness'.

And that's when it fell off in my hand

What in the name of Hitler's panties and matching bra set was she talking about?

I've never had anyone say they love me before. Libby lobes me, that is true, but there is something a bit menacing about the way she says it.