Jetta, of The Misfits' Journal

8:01am: Ring The Fashion Police!
Pizzazz is right. Bloody German slag wouldn't know style if it bopped her in the noggin! But what can you expect when she's led by a pompous bloke with a farking mop-top?

Now THIS is just wicked. It's a teeny trinket Charles gave me while I was visiting The Royals; a genuine African headdress, rumored to have been worn by the famed Borodevoliga himself!




Take note, ducky. THIS is style at it's best!

7:59pm: Brilliant!
Well, crocquet with the Queen Mum was fantastic, and that Charles is one nutty git! He gave me a ride on the Royal yacht, where we sipped Earl Grey tea from silver cups. But then Charles dropped his tea (clumsy lad!)--and then slipped upon the puddle. Almost fumbled himself overboard, I tell you! Spiffy frock, and all!

Dinner was served at 7 o'clock in the Royal Hall, and The Family insisted that I entertain them as the stuffed quails were being served. So, guess which lass played her saxaphone, as The Royals golluped their supper, yanks? *snuff*

Methinks the rest of the band will be thrilled to know that the good Lady Di is a MASSIVE follower of The Misfits. Why, she's me biggest fan. She's even got the "Jetta" poster upon her royal bedroom wall! *dramatic hand gestures*

So how do you fancy THAT, Roxy? I'll bet those bloody thugs in Philly can't measure up to me royal chums!

Teatime!

8:34pm: Cheerio!
Blah dee blah blah.

I don't have time to write my epic now, yanks, so I'm just testing that these bits are working.

'Off to munch crumpets with Lady Di, and play a tilly of crocquet with The Queen Mum.

Then again, I'm sure you know all about this, as I'm Jetta; the famous and glamorous Brit from The Misfits! The Tabloids simply devour me--why, being of prime royal descent and such.

Ta!