Fag Hag Diary

Get your Twitters out!


Fag Hag mum has been busy again proving that, when it comes to malapropisms, she is quite simply in a league of her own (cue thirty-eight-year old Madonna running around in baseball skirt and whining about her playground through gauze lense…)
We’ve already enjoyed a visit to ‘that fabulous film darling, Scumdog Millionaire’ this month. We’ve had great chats about technology where Fag Hag mum has informed me that she’s not on ‘my face’.  Well thank Christ for that (she means Facebook kids).

She is however interested in that other internet social networking phenomenon, ‘giggly’. Giggly? ‘Do you mean Google mum?’ ‘No darling I mean giggly. The one Jonathan Ross likes.’ I thought a bit about this before finally cracking the enigma code. Giggly, maybe it reminded her a bit of titter – which when scrambled up in Fag Hag mum’s Wonka Factory brain gives you Twitter.

This morning she surpassed even her own glorious record though. ‘Do you want to come with me to Ikeja darling.’ ‘Ikeja? Mum that’s a suburb in Lagos, in Africa. Why the hell would I want to go there?’ After some thorough cross-examination it turned out she meant IKEA. Only in Fag Hag family could someone get Neasden confused with Nigeria.


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