Knocked Out by My Nunga-Nungas: Further, Further Confessions of Georgia Nicolson by Louise Rennison
Phoned Rosie. She said, “Bonjour, ma petite pal.”
“What are you doing?”
“Having an Abba afternoon. I am wearing my mum’s old crochet bikini and…Sven! Careful of that glass chandelier!!”
In the background I could hear all this clattering and, “Oh ja, oh ja, oh ja!”
I said, “What is Sven doing?”
“He’s juggling.”
Of course he was. Why do I ask?
2:00 p.m.
Jas is swotting with her boyfriend AGAIN.
No one will play with me. They are all doing their homework. Huh.
8:00 p.m
Alarmingly, I found myself in my room doing some French homework!!! Even Dad came to the door to look. This is a new sign of my maturiosity. Also, I must make sure I can order things in Paris when I am traveling over there with the band. I would feel like a fool if I didn’t even know how to order mascara.
9:00 p.m.
The evening did end on a high note though. When I was in the kitchen making myself milky pops for my restless urges, Vati was hanging round in there. Talking to me and asking me stuff. I told him all about the SG and Dave the L (not). Then he said, “I think that Angus has definitely calmed down.”
At that moment Angus came in through the cat flap in what can only be described as a bird’s nest hat.
I love him, I love him!!!
monday november 15th
french
1:30 p.m.
Hmmm. Henri gave us back our test papers and I had come top!!! All the ace crew looked at me in amazement.
Jools said, “Sacré bloody bleu.”
But Henri gave me a really dishy smile. He said, “This is vair, vair well done, m’mselle.”
Blimey O’Reilly’s trousers. He is quite literally GORGEOUS! If I wasn’t the girlfriend of a Sex God and also dying to go to the piddly diddly department I would have snogged him on the spot.
break
2:30 p.m.
As we left French and went to the canteen Henri was ahead of us. He has got excellent bottomosity. Herr Kamyer came bounding and dithering along the corridor. He looked delighted to see Henri.
“Guten tag, Henri. Vould you like a cup of coffee?” And they went off to the staff room.
I said, “Herr Kamyer is making an absolute arse of himself, isn’t he? Drooling around after Henri. Like a homosexualist.”
Jas went all politically correct. “Well, there is nothing wrong with that. He might be gay, you know. He might be looking for happiness with the right man.”
“Jas, don’t be ridiculous. He wears tartan socks.”
at home
4:30 p.m.
Yesss!!! I came top in French! That will teach Madame Slack. In fact, I will tell her when she gets back, possibly in French, that instead of the stick she should have used le carrot. Like Henri. Ooer.
7:00 p.m.
To celebrate Vati’s fabulous new job at the waterworks (!), I was forced to go out to a family meal at Pizza Express. Libby brought scuba-diving Barbie, Pantalitzer, Charlie Horse and a Pingu comic, so we had to have a table for eight because she wanted them all to have seats of their own. (Yes, even the comic). She tried to order them their own pizzas as well but Vati put his foot down with a firm hand. Even when she cried real tears. He said, “There are children starving in Africa.”
I nearly said, Well, why don’t you send your bottom off to them? That should keep them going through the winter.”
But I didn’t want to spoil a beautiful evening.
10:00 p.m.
Sex God phoned. Yummmmmm!
He is relanding on Sunday. Actually he is coming back on Saturday and going to a family party: it’s his mum’s birthday. Jas is going with Tom. I sort of waited for him to ask me.
He said, “It would be great if you could come, Georgia, but maybe we should wait and introduce you to them first before you just turn up? What do you think?”
“Er…”
midnight
What do I think? What does he mean, what do I think? How should I know? If anyone knows what I think it won’t be me. I, of course, will be the last to know. Hmmm, I wish me and the Sex God could see more of each other and you know, do normal things like…Abba afternoons…and…snogging. And trouser snake dancing. And so on.
Maybe when we live in our penthouse flat in London.
1:00 a.m.
How many hours is it till the Sex God returns?
Twenty-four times five plus the difference between…oh God. I don’t know. I can’t do figures in my head very well. There are too many other really important things in there taking up the space. Fashion tips and so on.
tuesday november 16th
maths
2:45 p.m.
Didn’t those Greek-type people have anything to do but loll round in baths going “Eureka”!!? And also I’ll just say this about Pythagoras: didn’t he have any mates? Mates that would say, “Hey, Pythy baby…SHUT UP!!!!”
4:01 p.m.
We were just pinning on our ears to do glove animal on the way home when we spotted Dave the Laugh and Rollo and Steve and a few others, hanging round…Ooer. Lad alert, lad alert!!! Damn, I didn’t have any lippy on, but at least I could quickly rip my ears off. Ellen was patheticisimus—she ran back into the cloakroom, going, “Oops, forgot my fags!”
Oh yeah!
She came out five minutes later with just the merest hint of makeup on—lip gloss, concealer, glossy eyeshadow, mascara…skirt rolled over, hair tousled…really natural.
I said, “Found your fags then?” But she didn’t get it.
Dave is cool-looking. In a someone-else’s-boyfriend sort of a way. He gave Ellen a kiss on the cheek. Then he looked at me. I hadn’t noticed how long his eyelashes are before. Probably because he had been a Red Herring and then he had been wearing a big red false nose. He said, “Hi, Georgia. Still grooving?”
I said, “Yeah, grooving like two grooving…er…groovers.”
And he laughed.
Ellen said, “Are you walking home?” And we all set off together.
Dave has been banned from school for a week. Hmm…my kind of guy. I asked him why.
“Well, you know that methylated spirit just burns and doesn’t burn anything else?”
Ellen (space rocket scientist—not) said, “Oh yeah. It’s to do with its low combustion point, isn’t it?”
And she was being all girlie and sort of hanging on his arm. I wondered what number they had got up to. Rosie said she thought number five (open-mouth kissing). She couldn’t really tell in the dark at the cinema. Also, had he done that nip libbling thing? Shut up. Shut up. Remember I am the girlfriend of a Sex God.
Dave said, “Anyway, in science I put some meths on my hand and set fire to it. Then when Mr. Martin asked a question I put up my hand. On fire. It was hilarious in the extreme, even if I do say so myself. Which I just did, because I heard myself.”
It really made me laugh.
Rosie has asked them all to come over to her house on Saturday because her parents are out for the night. After we split up at the bottom of the hill, I said, “It was a laugh about the hand-on-fire thing, wasn’t it?”
And Ellen said, “Don’t you think it was a bit dangerous?”
I have my doubts whether she is quite laugh enough for Dave the Laugh.
teatime
Vati was grumbling and raving on for England because the milkman won’t deliver milk to us anymore. He says that Angus stalks him. Oh honestly, people are so weedy. I had more important things to think about than the milkman’s trousers, believe me.
When Dad had gone off to visit the permanently insane (Uncle Eddie), I said to Mum, “Mum, you know I don’t really like talking about this sort of thing, but, well…did you ever, you know, when you were a teenager, did you ever two-time anyone?”
“Oh yes.”
“How did you feel?”
“Great.”
“Great?!”
“Yes.”
“You didn’t feel guilty then?”
“No.”
“Well, you should have.”
“Well, I didn’t.”
You see what I am up against.
thursday november 18th
physics
10:20 a.m.
The Bummer Twins cut off half Nauseating P. Green’s tie. I tried to cheer her up. I had to even pretend that I was glad she had named one of Hammy’s children after me. That is what I am like. I may have red bottomosity, but I also have wisdomosity and self-sacrificiosity. Which is not easy to say.
lunchtime
Nippy noodles. I’m sure Elvis Attwood turns the heating down when it gets cold. We all huddled on the radiator in the Science block. We were safe because it was Tragic Kate and Melanie Griffiths on prefect duty and neither of them are in peak physical condition (due to extreme breastiness in Melanie’s case and general fatness in Kate’s). They can never be arsed to check beyond the second floor. If Wet Lindsay or Hawkeye is on duty there is quite literally no hiding place. Once I had the unfortunate experience of hiding in the loo with my legs up against the door, pretending there was no one in there (as you do). Then, when I thought it was all clear, I looked down to see Hawkeye’s beady eyes looking up at me from under neath the door. Scary bananas.
It’s the dreaded sex and relationship lecture from Miss Wilson tomorrow. I said, “I will be wearing my earplugs. I cannot bear to have grown-ups discuss sex. It’s unnatural.”
Jas said, “Haven’t your mum and dad told you the facts of life thing?”
I looked at her. “Erlack.”
Actually, Mutti did once ramble on about eggs and ovaries when my period started. I didn’t happen to have my earplugs with me so I had to hum a little tune in my head.
I said to the gang, “All we can hope for is that we get some free sanitary towels.”
Jas (the sanitary wear expert) said, “Don’t you use tampons? They’re so much more convenient. Why don’t you use them?”
Resisting my natural urge to shove her off the radiator I explained, “Because if I use them, Libby finds them, takes them out of their little holder and calls them ‘Georgia’s mice.’ She trails them around for Angus to hunt. You have no idea what it is like in my house.”
special assembly
3:40 p.m.
Slim was beyond the Valley of the Jelloid. Mr. Attwood caught the Bummer Twins in his hut snogging with the two window cleaners who came to do the Science block windows!!!
Slim said it was “disgraceful behavior.”
I don’t know why she has got her gigantic knickers in such a twist. She is the one, after all, who is encouraging us to be interested in sex by making us go to lectures on it. But you cannot reason with multiple chin personalities.
Anyway, on the plus side, the Bummers are banned for two weeks and may actually be expelled. Oh dear. How sad. Never mind.
friday november 19th
11:00 a.m.
Another reprimand! Just because Hawkeye heard me say “Schiessenhausen” when I tripped over Jas’s haversack strap. Gott in Himmel, you can’t even say lavatory in German without some fascist taking offense.
r.e.
1:30 p.m.
Sex and relationship talk. We all tried to get as far to the back of the classroom as we possibly could.
It was EXCRUCIATING! First of all, we were shown a film about ovaries and sperm and so on, which was enough to put you off sex for life. Additionally the woman in the film looked like Meat Loaf. It was really giving me the mega droop.
To pass the idle hours Rosie sent round a note:
To whom it may concern.
You have to choose one of these.
Which would you rather?
1. Elvis Attwood gets to number seven with you. Heavy tongues are involved. He is in the nuddy-pants.
or
2. No snogging ever again.
Pass it on.
And we all had to put 1 or 2. Everyone put 2. The thought of Elvis getting to number seven (upper body fondling—outdoors) has made my nunga-nungas quiver.
The next note was:
Which would you rather?
1. Miss Stamp rubs you down with a towel in the showers.
or
2. No snogging ever again.
I was very alarmed to see that Jas put number 1.
break
I said to Jas, “What kind of snacks have you got, lezzie?”
I can’t bear to think about the second half of the sex and relationship lecture given by the saddest, most unlikely person ever to have sex or a relationship, Miss Wilson. I personally think that if you can’t even put your tights on properly you are not likely to be tiptop in the snogging department. She raved and stuttered on about the “beauty of a fulfilling and caring relationship with someone you love.”
Heavens to Betsy. Rosie colored all her teeth black with her fibertip pen which was very funny. (And much funnier later when she couldn’t get it off.)
In the end Miss Wilson gave us each an egg. Cheers. Just what I’ve always wanted. What in the name of Lucifer is she on about? We have to take care of the egg and look after it and treat it like a baby. It is supposed to teach us about caring and nurturing.
It is totally sad and useless and merde.
8:30 p.m.
I annoyed Vati by telling him that the program he was watching on TV was unsuitable for my egg. Which by the way I have dressed in an old bootie of Libby’s.
I think I may very well be an unusually good mother.
Eggcellent, in fact.
saturday november 20th
2:45 p.m.
Saturday night is party night.
I’ve asked Mum to baby-sit my egg. It will make a change for her to nurture her caring skills.
The ace gang is going to be there. (Well, apart from Jas, who is going to her so-called boyfriend’s house to celebrate with her so-called boyfriend’s parents.) Robbie said he would come round to Rosie’s if he could after the family do. I feel sheer desperadoes to see him again. It’s been ages since I saw him. Oh well. I wonder who will turn up tonight? Rosie and Sven, of course; Mabs and Steve, Jools and Rollo, Ellen and Dave the Laugh…Sara, Patty and me…and maybe some of Dave the Laugh’s mates.
I’m sort of looking forward to it. It will take my mind off my jelloidness about the SG. Even though I will be, as per usual, the goosegog in the manger.
rosie’s house
8:20 p.m.
Sven opened the door wearing a Durex on his head like a hat…er…
“’Ello, welcome to the fish party!”
What was he going on about?
When we went into the living room it was all full of netting and paper fish hanging up.
Rosie was wearing a really crap mermaid’s outfit (her legs down one leg of her blue trousers and hobbling around). She said, “Cod evening.”
Good grief.
Actually it was quite funny. There were fish-fingers as snacks. Dave the Laugh arrived with his mates. Ellen was really giddy, but I was cool as a mackerel. Sven said, “Let’s dance,” and we had to dance to fish-type music. Like the music from Jaws. And Titanic. Like fish. Which is not as easy as you would think because fish aren’t big dancers. Dave was making me laugh because he really did look like a fish dancing! He even said, “This dancing is playing haddock with my jeans.”
Then we played sardines—well, we played Sven’s version of it, which meant that essentially we all got into the wardrobe and some people snogged. Although I am not naming names. But it was Rollo and Jools, and Sven and Rosie. I was a bit too close to Dave the Laugh for my liking. He had to put his arm round me to stop falling over. It almost made me pucker up in the dark….
Oh, stop it, stop it. I can feel my bottom getting redder and redder and bigger. I must not, MUST NOT get the big red bottom.
9:20 p.m.
Back in the living room the gang were playing True, Dare, Kiss or Promise. Then the doorbell rang. It was Mrs. Big K
“Who?”
God, she is annoying. She went off to help herself to snacks. I followed her and said, “Jas, what did he say?”
Then in front of the whole room she said, “You know when you did ear snogging with him? Well, what number is that officially?”
What is the matter with her?!! If anyone wants to know anything about my life all they have to do is to tune into Radio Jas.
9:30 p.m.
Hahahaha. Jas got “Dare” from me and I dared her to fill her knickers up with all the legumes in the vegetable basket. She was grumbling but in the end she had to do it and she went off to the kitchen.
I almost died with laughing when she came back. She had two pounds of potatoes, four carrots and a Swede down her knicknacks. And they were not full!!!
Rosie had to tell the truth about what number she and Sven had got up to. It was…eight!!!! They had got up to upper body fondling—indoors. Honestly!!! It gave me quite a turn. Rosie wasn’t a bit embarrassed or anything. Then Steve got “Dare” and had to eat a raw onion.
Uh-oh, my turn.
Jas got her own back for the vegetable knicker extravaganza in a really horrible way. I got “True,” and she said, “Do you fancy anyone besides the Sex God?”
Dave the Laugh looked at me. Everyone looked at me. What was I? A looking-at thing?
I said, “Er…well, I quite fancy…er, Henri.” Phew.
That got them talking about Henri and his trousers. The game went on and then…Dave the Laugh got “Kiss.” Jools said, “OK, Dave, you have to kiss…”
Ellen went all pink and incredibly girlish. But then Jools said, “You have to kiss…Georgia….”
Why did she say that? What did she know? Was my big red bottom showing under my skirt????
Whilst everyone went “Snog, snog, snog!”, I went into the kitchen to get myself a drink.
I was in a state of confusiosity. I wish I knew what I wanted. I wanted everything.
I wanted the Sex God and Dave the Laugh, and also possibly Henri.
Good Lord. I really was a nymphowhatsit.
That is when Dave the Laugh came out.
“Georgia.”
“What?”
“You owe me a snog.”
Oh God’s pajamas!!! He was my best pal’s boyfriend. I was the girlfriend of a Sex God.