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And then you joined that religion that meant you weren’t allowed to speak to girls anymore…

August 14, 2009

A Foreword(s) from Au Lapin Blanc….

OK this was a weird one but then again, my blog is weird. I was debating for a long time about what story to use. I was going to do Alice in Wonderland for the ‘White Rabbit’ connection but then I decided against it when I saw that another blogger was planning to use that story. I then himmed and hahhed about drawing something, photographing something, penning an article and then I was flicking through my mp3 player when I came across one of the catchiest songs I have ever heard.

Don’t ask how but this disturbing but hopefully amusing piece was the result. I blame low blood sugar and I must assure you all that this is fictional and I don’t indulge in stalking in my spare time.

Many thanks to Ms Hermia for all her hard work because without her, this great new project wouldn’t be possible


I thought I would never find love. I was awkward. I was all frizzy hair, bucked teeth, cheeks, arse, belly and wind. I was a sheltered child. For most of my life, my parents kept me locked up in my room because they thought I was allergic to pretty much everything. Turns out the doctor made a terrible mistake – my face wasn’t swollen due to various reactions; that’s just what I looked like. Not a good start. I was clumsy, I had no obvious talent and I’m sure you remember the persistent persecution by my peers of my constant companion, my pet rock, Rocky. I was not blessed with imagination either as you can see.

I stood on the bottom rung of the social ladder. I didn’t scream girlfriend material but you, oh you my darling, you were my knight in a waistcoat; my Prince Charming.

We met years ago when we were younger in school. You kind of knew me through a friend of a friend of a friend who once got the bus with me.

I remember the first thing you said to me, Angel

‘Do you have a sharpener?’

Such a magnificent gift with words you have! I know what you were really trying to say. You were trying to tell me that you fancied the arse off me and you wanted to make me your little wife.

I liked you instantly because you could do amusing little jigs and were the snappiest dresser around. Nothing changes much there. Everyone wanted to be around you because you were cool and enjoyed the company of Ninjas. All the girls wanted you to flash that cheeky grin of yours or smell your sweet fragrant locks which by the way you should totally sue that Efron fellow because he completely stole your unique look.

Ahh yes, it was love at first sight my Pumpkin.

From then on I knew we were meant to be. We were going to be a modern fairytale. You even called me Princess once that time when I sat on you and made you say it. You were mine; my sweetheart and I was yours.

You were reluctant to profess your love at first – I know it was difficult to come to terms with such overwhelming feelings of joy. It can be difficult for some people when they find ‘The One’ at such a young age. I know you probably didn’t know how to handle such feelings of desire, lust and affection. You kinda shouted at me a lot but I think it made you look cute.

As we got older we had our moments. You would be really sweet and tell me such romantic things like that time when you say that ‘You would do anything if I could just leave you the hell alone’ (because I know you were planning on springing a lovely surprise on me) or that time you told me to ‘Take a fucking long walk off a fucking short cliff’ because I know you wanted to practice rescuing me like the Prince you are. You are so old fashioned darling. I mean, all couples give each other a tombstone with their names on it nowadays. It declares to the world you’ll be together forever – get with the times!
Sometimes you would be really distant and argue with me but I know that’s because you are passionate and you were probably in the midst of an epic love poem inspired by the hidden, the really hidden beauty in my eyes…….

I just want to you know that when you moved to Norway become a famous singer and I followed you and moved to Norway to be with you and then you joined that religion that meant you weren’t allowed to speak to girls anymore, that I respected and accepted the situation.

I accepted it like that time you sent me a text to say that you had died and some time later I saw you walking past the café and I said ‘Why aren’t you dead?’ and you said ‘Aliens did it’ and then you ran away.

I still accept that maybe you don’t like being sent boxes of my hair or when I go into restaurants after you to collect your leftovers. You also seemed pretty upset that day I posted you the tarantula (they were all out of kittens dearest!). I hope it wasn’t dead because I forgot to put holes in the box. Do tarantulas breathe? Admit it please my darling that you liked the mime I paid to act out the story of our love outside your house!

I don’t blame you Alex my sweet. All you wanted was to play your fiddle, work on your masterpiece (named after me) and make a name for yourself so that you could return to me with your fortune. We would then make a brand new start, starting with making lots of little waistcoat wearing buck toothed babies.

You can imagine my joy, my Prince, when I turned on the television to see you, oh King of my Heart, onstage during the world’s most respected song competition. I knew when I watched you with my heart full of pride and tears of joy pouring from my eyes, as you leaped like a magnificent gazelle across the stage in front of the world, that you were singing only for me.

I listened to the lyrics Alex baby and you said that you can’t find me? I’m here dear, I’m always nearby! I know I can’t come very close because of what that silly Judge said but you must know where I am at all times – I‘m always with you! The other day you even said ‘Ahh **** she’s ****ing back again!’ and then you sent those bodyguards bring me to you but they misunderstood and actually tried to get me out of the way of your car. What’s this about you being cursed? You seem to do a lot of cursing when you see me Alex which you know isn’t very nice. Did you really have to throw that brick at me that time?

I know why you may be mad. I know I’m a jealous girl. I was only joking when I suggested you were making kissy faces at Dimitri the Ninja. Who are those girls? Why do they keep sighing at you? That’s my cute little thing! Remember? Remember how I used to watch you from outside your bedroom window and then get your attention with a few rocks and then when you came to the window I would sigh and swoon and serenade you? Who are these hoors?

I thought happily ever afters only existed in fairytales. Well Alex I am your fairytale, the one you have been singing about …you just don’t seem to realize it yet.

—-guest blog submitted by The White Rabbit

10 Comments leave one →
  1. August 14, 2009 10:13 am

    Oh my goodness,
    this made me laugh so, so much!
    Once again, I’ve found a great blog through Diamond in the Rough!
    She is just so hilarious 🙂

  2. August 14, 2009 12:07 pm

    Very cute!

  3. August 14, 2009 12:44 pm

    What a great story, I love it. So funny!

  4. August 14, 2009 2:55 pm

    This is hilarious, I love it!! What was the song that you heard?? xxx

  5. August 14, 2009 3:08 pm

    Hello guys! Thank you for your comments (told you it was odd)

    The song was the 2009 winner of the Eurovision Song Contest ‘Fairytale’ by Alexander Rybak [Norway]. Maybe I was wrong to assume everyone watched that show (which if you don’t, you should. It’s the cheesiest thing in the history of TV)

  6. August 14, 2009 6:56 pm

    haha thats awesome – why isnt this story in more fairytale books?

  7. August 14, 2009 8:03 pm


  8. August 14, 2009 10:47 pm

    i laughed out loud almost the whole way through that! the funny thing is that there are sooooo many stories like this one! ok, ok maybe not as bad but close! loved it tho and totally goiing off to your site 🙂

  9. dustjacket attic permalink
    August 15, 2009 6:20 am

    Totally awesome Rabbit, as I knew it would be, thanks for adding the clip for those of us not in the know!


  1. Sponging, Cringing and More Cringing… « A Chick Named Hermia

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