There was Squirt, Popartgirl and Me at Billy Bomber’s.
There was, also, a table cramped with lots of food. Which explains Popartgirl’s look of pure ecstasy.
There were some jokes made about Squirt’s magnificent “Lefty” and “Righty” acting as trays for her husband in the plane when they go on their honeymoon to the land of Ricola (I am sure Rie and Hucks will know where it is!).
Popartgirl and I then started yodeling in mimicry of the very hilarious ad (“reeeeecolaaaaa!”).
There was mention of the gorgeous pink polka-dotted satin slip that we had gotten for her as an early birthday present, and how Squirt will always imagine us waving to her whenever she wears it (very kinky, I know).
Popartgirl and I were also devising ways in which we can siphon the ang pows from her wedding.
Squirt says that we are like therapy to her, since we never fail to make her the butt of our very nonsensical jokes. She then starts gurgling like a baby who is playing peekaboo and we tell her to shut up.
I think she loves us. Yay.