Dancing in My Nuddy-Pants AER Hello, my gorgey little chums. Itâ€TMs me here writing to you once again from the seat of civilization (and no, I do not mean the lavatory … or rest room as you lot alarmingly call it). What I mean is I am writing to you from my bedroom to welcome you to another exciting(ish) diary of my fabulous life [hyperlink to Dancing in My Nuddy Pants page]. Within these pages I run the gamut of emotions from A to -- er -- C, with just a dash of heavy snogging. You will laugh, you will cry, you will plead that you have a headache, but you know in the end you will have to read my book. And so you should, because as you know by now I am a naturally shy person and not one to dance around in the nuddy-pants for no good reason. Besides, it has taken me minutes … er … no, hours to write this diary for your enjoymentosity. I do it only because I love you. P.S. I mean this with deepest sinceriosity. P.P.S. Which is not an easy thing to say. You try it and see. P.P.P.S. Some complete fool (my vati) says that in Hamburger-a-gogo land "fanny" means bottom. This canâ€TMt possibly be true. Teeheeee heeee. P.P.P.P.S. It is true, isnâ€TMt it? P.P.P.P.P.S. Do you know what "fanny" means in English? P.P.P.P.P.P.S. I do; however it is a secret I will take with me to the grave. Possibly. Georgia Dancing in My Nuddy-Pants AER . Copyright © by Louise Rennison . Reprinted by permission of HarperCollins Publishers, Inc. All rights reserved. Available now wherever books are sold. Excerpted from Dancing in My Nuddy-Pants by Louise Rennison All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.
