When All Words Fail, She Speaks – She’s Hig!


November 24, 2012 by kitcac

My chum Hig is the bestest.  She rocks my world.  She rocks it hard.

She rocks it so hard that if Ben Folds Five wrote a song about her, it would be their song “Kate”.  Google the lyrics, I can’t be arsed to type them out here.

I have drunk a lot of the delicious concoction that is dandelion & burdock and vodka (if you’ve never tasted it I would say “try it Edward, you might like it” as Mary from Three Men and A Little Lady would).

However, I am advised that due to some recent events, Ben Folds is unlikely to write a song about my bezzer chum Hig.  Or if he did it might be called “Restraining Order” or similar.

Back story alert:

Stavros and I did a wedding gift list for our wedding asking for contributions towards specific things on our honeymoon.  Some people think that this is tacky but we’d lived in sin/over the brush for a few years and had loads of spoons and a coffee maker and a load of garden furniture even though we lived in a first floor flat.

So we were going to Australia on honeymoon and that was the basis of our gift list. It would be my fourth time in Australia, so I wanted to actually do the stuff that I should have done on the first, second and third times I’d been but had been too drunk to do.

So our gift list was like the Mastercard advert:  Sausages for the barbie $5.  DVT socks for the flight $4.  A night at the opera house $50.  Honeymoon to remember, priceless.

Oh man alive we had a great time!

Usually, Deirdre invites herself on our holidays and we have to book a larger romantic cottage or a larger seafront villa to accommodate her.  That’s how she rolls.  Then when she is on holiday with us she always tries to drown Stavros in the pool and claims she was trying to “rebirth him” by holding his head underwater.  But I fear that that is a tale for another time.

But this time it was just us on honeymoon.  No Deirdre this time (we have since holidayed with her and the bro in law many times so we’re not totally scared by the drowning thing).  And when we were on honeymoon we went for a night at the Opera House!  I didn’t have any of those flippy-over binocular glasses that Viv uses in Pretty Woman cos it wasn’t actually the opera, but we were watching Ben Folds.  Whoop!

Ben Folds I tell thee! Wooooo hooooo!

Oh he was fab.  There was a song about that lad that got Sarah Palin’s daughter pregnant and some hacky sack throwing and all sorts of merriment, oh it was good.  I loved it.

I’ve loved Ben Folds for ayyyyyy-jezzzzz!

Then last week my cousin-in-law Timbo kindly mentioned a Ben Folds Five gig in San Francisco in January and ba-da-bing I thought I gotsta get me some of them!  But not in SF obviously, thats far too far for a concert.

So I am going to a UK gig shortly – I won’t say which because I don’t want you to break into my house and clean my windowsills and my floors while I’m out, you internet weirdos.

I was feeling very smug about having tickets.  A bit warm in places.

Then zut alors!  My bezzer chum Hig texts me to say “I just met Ben Folds and we had a chat and a photo!” and then she texted me the goddamn proof.  Oh em gee.  Jealous.

I don’t know what I would say to him though.  I’d probably snarfle a laugh and talk absolute shit.  He’d talk into the cuff of his shirt and his security services would whisk me away in a jiffy.  That’d be the end of that.

So Hig went to the concert.  I engaged my brain in high-brow things like the X Factor etc and then suddenly my phone went apeshit.  It beeped so many times I thought that there was some sort of national emergency going on and I worried that I hadn’t properly read the manual to know what the heck all the beeps meant.

But fear not, dear reader, fear not.  Twas only Hig.  A pisht Hig.

This is what happened:

Daytime aka sober texts:

Hig: We just met Ben Folds who we are going to see tonight and had a chat and had a photo!!!

Me: (swear words deleted by me)!!! How what when and why?!?!?!? x

Hig: (Bleeped) was shaking! We are staying in a hotel to watch him tonight, he is at our hotel!

Hig: [sends photo of Ben Folds and Hig smiling]

Me: (swear words deleted)!  We’re seeing him soon!

Hig: (Bleeped) tweeted him the photo.  [Note to reader – this may have been passed to the police by now for ID/restraining order purposes]

Evening texts:


Hig:  Just seen him again!!!! He smiled!!!!


Hig:  Mary Lucas was the warm up

Hig:  Matt Lucas

Me:  Mary Lucas is amazing though.


Hig:  Totes x


Hig:  So I met him drunk



Hig:  He said


Hig:  She’s drunk


Hig:  Get her away from me


Hig:  I said


Hig:  Fuck off!  I’m the best!  [Apologies dear reader, I thought that the swearing was essential for context]


Hig:  I got thrown out


Me:  No no no!  Did he what what?!!!! [Apologies dear reader, even now I don’t know what I intended to ask when I typed out that text]


Hig:  Back un now.


Hig: Ha


Hig: Ha.


Hig:  He said don’t let her touch me!


Hig:  I’m all over it.


Me:  You are my life.  Touch me any time! x


Hig:  I will stalk him now


Hig:  To prove a point!


Hig:  What.  Girl.


Me:  You rock my world.  May I blog about this? x


Hig:  Its my life purpose.  Make a blog of me.


Hig:  TrAgidt

Me: Huh?

Hig:  Trading.

Hig:  Tragidy.

So I am interpreting this exchange of text messages as confirmation that my dearest chum somehow ended up in a situation where Ben Folds shouted “don’t let her touch me!”

I would love it if I could somehow get Ben Folds to shout “don’t let her touch me!” and point at me.  That would be better than having my own trained pet squirrel.


One thought on “When All Words Fail, She Speaks – She’s Hig!

  1. kitcac says:

    I have since had a sober update from Hig.
    It turns out it wasn’t Ben Folds who said “Don’t let her touch me”. Nay, it was in fact Matt Lucas.
    Hig rubbed his head and then all hell broke loose, culminating in her yelling to Matt Lucas “You’re lucky to have met ME!”
    I personally think that’s even better than the Ben Folds thing.

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