Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

Voicemail message goes off.  Dial 121.  Listen.  Wee with laughter:

11 year old Wokkie, my babiest brother:

SHEEN! SHEEN?!  It’s your voicemail thingie isn’t it? Oh no.  Please call me back I have to tell you somethingitsreallyimportantyoucallmeback!

In the background I hear my moms voice: Warrick! What are you doing? I’ve just bought you that bloody airtime, stop wasting it!

Wokkie: MOM! I have to tell Sheen something urgently, man.  Right now, but she’s not answering.  I bet you she’s forgotten her phone on silent again.

Mom: Put the phone down so she can call you back, chop.

CLICK! BEEP BEEP BEEEEEEP – Your call has been placed on hold – BEEEEEEP.

Wok: -the heck have I done now? Hello? Hello, SHEENA? Can you call me back please.  It’s Warrick Ross, your brother.


The urgency? He’d spoken to the Chubb security neighbourhood officer who’d heard that I’d moved to Phlegmteng and terrorised my poor youngest sibling to the point of tears with that stupid Urban Legend.  Apparently its a new gang initiation to drive with your lights off and as soon as someone flashes them, they get followed and beaten to death.

By the time I’d called Wok back, he was beside himself with worry.  I’ve now promised to never drive with my lights off, and he made me promise to also tell everyone i know here.  So there you have it, you’ve been warned.

Other than that, all is well in Sheena Land.  I am still walking around vomiting rainbows and fairy dust.  How are you?


  1. Angel says:

    HOSED myself! Totally!
    And you can tell Wokkie that thats an urban legend that’s been doing the rounds for YEARS, so you’re probably safe.

  2. Amy says:

    That is too cute! Oh, and i’m good… cant say i’m vomiting fairy dust tho, i’m not sure thats exactly healthy…

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