I'm becoming slightly twitchy about the old hen weekend - not least because winding me up about it seems to have become everyone's favourite past time. I am trying not to rise to it, or believe any of it or start to panic about it. But it's getting rather tricky. So I'd just like to say this to all those involved - a friendly reminder if you will:
Your favourite hen is a control freak, she is not a fan of surprises - especially of the naked man variety. She hates anything tacky and abhors the thought of parading around Cambridge dressed as a bunny girl/cow girl/angel/devil/burlesque dancer or any other hen do incarnation. She didn't find the Beck's B*&%es t-shirt joke funny. She also upholds the right to refuse to play along and will get stroppy if coerced.
That said I am very much looking forward to dressing in my best frock and heels, drinking pimms, champagne and many a cocktail, winning lots of money on the horses and possibly having a good dance if anyone is able to find somewhere that plays enough cheese (I don't do cool music so don't try to make me dance to it - if you don't like cheese do keep in mind that it's my hen do and I'll "cheese" if I want to!).
I am sure Mrs Everard has kept the rebel factions of the hen do committee under control and that I am worrying unnecessarily. I do hope I'm right. xoxo
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