There will be more to this post, I just wanted to show these off ^__________^
Thursday 20 October 2011
Friday 14 October 2011
One Way Ticket To Neverland, Please!
I got to sleep at about, hmmmm... 3?? On what was technically Tuesday. I was then woken by a knock on my window at HALF PAST 8 by John Lewis delivery men delivering a mattress for Amy (who was in Liverpool with her sister overnight) so I had to get out of bed. I'm sure the guys LOVED my barely there Mini Mouse PJ shorts, bed head, Amy's work shoes, sexy Red Riding Hood coat and general arse-headedness/frowny face for being woken up so early. Also, thanks to our pig-headed land lord, we now have a mattress on our landing. Goddamn idiot. A mattress that I had to move myself while the 2 burly delivery guys PAID to throw mattresses and the like around all day watched as they 'weren't insured to pick up such weights'. You must be joking.
(I must admit, the mattress is an eyesore and a total pain in the arse and in the way and just generally stupid, but it comes in handy. Ish. I was waiting for the bathroom at about 7 Wednesday morning, and was still half asleep, so I was leaning my head against the top of it and resting my eyes for a bit. When Tom came out he found me sprawled on the floor, fast asleep, and hugging my towel.) But anyway, we got fishies!! (Is that even a word???) Well, fish. I called mine Reno, and he is lovely. He swims and swims and... well, that's about it. Naturally, as soon as Dakin walked through the door later that night he ran over to the food tub and ran away with it so as to prevent 'Mean Old Leah eating it all up'. ¬_¬
I don't think I'm going to grow up. Come (tee hee) Wednesday night I found myself sat with Amy in the cinema, looking somewhat like a lesbian couple, to watch a film starting at 10. What film? The Lion King. In 3D. So naturally, I had to physically rip my tongue out in order to stop myself from very loudly singing along to all the songs/saying EVERY LINE OF THE FILM! I didn't mean to go to the cinema, I swear! There we were, doing uni work (read: I was actually doing work for once, Amy was asleep on the sofa) When I read on Facebook (come on, it's like my newspaper!) that Lisa went to see The Lion King earlier. My squeal/groan of complaint woke Amy, who immediately told me to check the cinema times. We left the house 10 minutes later. We are several kinds of Win. I added elements of 'Fail' when we were going up the escalator and I had a panic attack when it jolted and almost sent me flying backwards. Not one to confuse my priorities though, I gripped extra tightly on to my jalapeños instead of dropping them in order to hold on to the railing. Instead, I held on to Amy's coat with my teeth.
To update: Reno died on Thursday night. Fuck. Well, I say 'died', I mean I put him out of his misery. Basically - I killed him. He wasn't doing any of that swimming or breathing stuff that fish usually do. In fact, he was stuck in the filter, which was an awful thing to witness. Well, awful and funny. Woops. I decided to put him out of his misery, but not in my usual way i.e. leaving him out of water to die a terrifying death of slow suffocation, so I went to flush him down the loo. Normally, when you take a fish from water, it thrashes around and attempts to survive. Reno just flopped there. The only moving he did was when I waved him around in Amy's face a bit. When I flushed him, because our loo is broken. he didn't go down first time. O_______O. I'm going to Hell, aren't I?
Karma delivered its blows today though - I was in a towel when I heard someone banging on my window, so I leant over to open my curtains and have a look. It was the postman holding a package for me that couldn't fit through the letterbox. To thank him for my DVD, my towel came off my boobs for him. Lucky postman. I then had the house to myself, so as I was getting ready for work and ironing my uniform in the living room, I was totally naked (keep it in your head, guys! :P) It was at this moment that my landlord let himself in to the house. I took a tip from The Road Runner at this point.
Basically, I'm awesome at life. Yup yup yup ^____^
(I must admit, the mattress is an eyesore and a total pain in the arse and in the way and just generally stupid, but it comes in handy. Ish. I was waiting for the bathroom at about 7 Wednesday morning, and was still half asleep, so I was leaning my head against the top of it and resting my eyes for a bit. When Tom came out he found me sprawled on the floor, fast asleep, and hugging my towel.) But anyway, we got fishies!! (Is that even a word???) Well, fish. I called mine Reno, and he is lovely. He swims and swims and... well, that's about it. Naturally, as soon as Dakin walked through the door later that night he ran over to the food tub and ran away with it so as to prevent 'Mean Old Leah eating it all up'. ¬_¬
I don't think I'm going to grow up. Come (tee hee) Wednesday night I found myself sat with Amy in the cinema, looking somewhat like a lesbian couple, to watch a film starting at 10. What film? The Lion King. In 3D. So naturally, I had to physically rip my tongue out in order to stop myself from very loudly singing along to all the songs/saying EVERY LINE OF THE FILM! I didn't mean to go to the cinema, I swear! There we were, doing uni work (read: I was actually doing work for once, Amy was asleep on the sofa) When I read on Facebook (come on, it's like my newspaper!) that Lisa went to see The Lion King earlier. My squeal/groan of complaint woke Amy, who immediately told me to check the cinema times. We left the house 10 minutes later. We are several kinds of Win. I added elements of 'Fail' when we were going up the escalator and I had a panic attack when it jolted and almost sent me flying backwards. Not one to confuse my priorities though, I gripped extra tightly on to my jalapeños instead of dropping them in order to hold on to the railing. Instead, I held on to Amy's coat with my teeth.
To update: Reno died on Thursday night. Fuck. Well, I say 'died', I mean I put him out of his misery. Basically - I killed him. He wasn't doing any of that swimming or breathing stuff that fish usually do. In fact, he was stuck in the filter, which was an awful thing to witness. Well, awful and funny. Woops. I decided to put him out of his misery, but not in my usual way i.e. leaving him out of water to die a terrifying death of slow suffocation, so I went to flush him down the loo. Normally, when you take a fish from water, it thrashes around and attempts to survive. Reno just flopped there. The only moving he did was when I waved him around in Amy's face a bit. When I flushed him, because our loo is broken. he didn't go down first time. O_______O. I'm going to Hell, aren't I?
Karma delivered its blows today though - I was in a towel when I heard someone banging on my window, so I leant over to open my curtains and have a look. It was the postman holding a package for me that couldn't fit through the letterbox. To thank him for my DVD, my towel came off my boobs for him. Lucky postman. I then had the house to myself, so as I was getting ready for work and ironing my uniform in the living room, I was totally naked (keep it in your head, guys! :P) It was at this moment that my landlord let himself in to the house. I took a tip from The Road Runner at this point.
Basically, I'm awesome at life. Yup yup yup ^____^
Monday 10 October 2011
It's Just a Jump To The Left...
And then a step to the right. Yadda yadda, you know the rest. For the record, I will NEVER be doing the Time Warp again, mainly because I haven't done it in the first place and so technically can't. Another reason for this is because, and I'm gonna be my usual blunt self here, I look SOOOOOOOOOOOOOO much better now than I have before.
I'm getting ahead of myself. I thought I'd be a good egg and all-round nice person today and visit my grandparents who still live in Derby (and who I totally ignored the whole of last year. Woops.) So I did. Are you unfortunate enough to be sitting in your grandparents' living room and have your grandmother shuffle in, take one look at you, look terrified and then run from the room crying "George! Who's that strange woman in the living room?" I'm gonna say 'maybe' at a push. Ever have it happen no less than 6 times during your 3 hour visit? No. No you haven't. I'm not going to go all emo and angsty over this or anything - that isn't my style.
It did lead to my (very over stressed out) grandfather putting on some videos of my brothers and myself when we were children just to show her who I am. I've been everything, from Andrew's wife (Andrew is my stepfather and the man I call 'Dad', if you care to recall. So, erm, no.) to 'who the hell is Andrew?' The video idea even ended in disaster as she couldn't seem to understand that I was once 3/6/9 and am no longer that age (thank God)
Here are some conclusions I came to while watching my family interacting with each other 16 years ago:
1. I was a total camera whore. Even then.
2. I do not suit a bob. I did not suit it age 3. I did not suit it age 6. So why, for the love of God, did I think I suited it age 15??
3. Ditto blunt fringes. I had a round face as a kid. It only went away last year following extreme dieting/starvation. Why do I cut my hair like that!?!?
4. My Dad should never grow a moustache ever again. Ever.
5. My Mum should never cut all her hair off ever again. Ever.
6. My Mum has a fantastic arse. Always has done. And will moon a camera purely from the knowledge that her husband's parents will then watch the footage. My mother hasn't changed all that much...
7. I had a hamster called Simba. Awesome.
8. Timmy was a total pussy as a kid and was terrified of my hamster and the random brood of 6 baby hamsters she gave me
9. I got Mulan on video Christmas 1999 and subjected my entire family to a viewing of it at extremely high volume (Is it sad that I can tell what film we were watching just by hearing the phrase "PUT IT OUT! PUT IT OUUUUUUUUT!!!"?)
10. I had an extremely good swing. I could have been a golfer by now... Sigh...
11. Christian had white blonde hair. LOL.
12. Christian always thought about food, even back then.
13. I was rarely seen with clothes on (Yup, no change there...)
14. Timmy looked up to me, even then... :)
15. My Dad takes the assembly of Christmas toys EXTREMELY SERIOUSLY!!!
16. Lucy, my beloved German shepherd, didn't mind Timmy sitting on her constantly.
17. Nor did she mind a 3 year old me shouting in her ear and shoving my face in hers.
18. Ditto stealing her Christmas presents.
19. My Mum had some very, er, interesting nicknames for me.
20. I looked good in dresses. Without a shape or boobs or anything. Woe, how that has changed things....
So now, I'm sitting here freezing my ass off, it's 2am and I'm trying ever so hard to keep my (frozen) ass on my seat in order to prevent myself from going and raiding the fridge.
I'm getting ahead of myself. I thought I'd be a good egg and all-round nice person today and visit my grandparents who still live in Derby (and who I totally ignored the whole of last year. Woops.) So I did. Are you unfortunate enough to be sitting in your grandparents' living room and have your grandmother shuffle in, take one look at you, look terrified and then run from the room crying "George! Who's that strange woman in the living room?" I'm gonna say 'maybe' at a push. Ever have it happen no less than 6 times during your 3 hour visit? No. No you haven't. I'm not going to go all emo and angsty over this or anything - that isn't my style.
It did lead to my (very over stressed out) grandfather putting on some videos of my brothers and myself when we were children just to show her who I am. I've been everything, from Andrew's wife (Andrew is my stepfather and the man I call 'Dad', if you care to recall. So, erm, no.) to 'who the hell is Andrew?' The video idea even ended in disaster as she couldn't seem to understand that I was once 3/6/9 and am no longer that age (thank God)
Here are some conclusions I came to while watching my family interacting with each other 16 years ago:
1. I was a total camera whore. Even then.
2. I do not suit a bob. I did not suit it age 3. I did not suit it age 6. So why, for the love of God, did I think I suited it age 15??
3. Ditto blunt fringes. I had a round face as a kid. It only went away last year following extreme dieting/starvation. Why do I cut my hair like that!?!?
4. My Dad should never grow a moustache ever again. Ever.
5. My Mum should never cut all her hair off ever again. Ever.
6. My Mum has a fantastic arse. Always has done. And will moon a camera purely from the knowledge that her husband's parents will then watch the footage. My mother hasn't changed all that much...
7. I had a hamster called Simba. Awesome.
8. Timmy was a total pussy as a kid and was terrified of my hamster and the random brood of 6 baby hamsters she gave me
9. I got Mulan on video Christmas 1999 and subjected my entire family to a viewing of it at extremely high volume (Is it sad that I can tell what film we were watching just by hearing the phrase "PUT IT OUT! PUT IT OUUUUUUUUT!!!"?)
10. I had an extremely good swing. I could have been a golfer by now... Sigh...
11. Christian had white blonde hair. LOL.
12. Christian always thought about food, even back then.
13. I was rarely seen with clothes on (Yup, no change there...)
14. Timmy looked up to me, even then... :)
15. My Dad takes the assembly of Christmas toys EXTREMELY SERIOUSLY!!!
16. Lucy, my beloved German shepherd, didn't mind Timmy sitting on her constantly.
17. Nor did she mind a 3 year old me shouting in her ear and shoving my face in hers.
18. Ditto stealing her Christmas presents.
19. My Mum had some very, er, interesting nicknames for me.
20. I looked good in dresses. Without a shape or boobs or anything. Woe, how that has changed things....
So now, I'm sitting here freezing my ass off, it's 2am and I'm trying ever so hard to keep my (frozen) ass on my seat in order to prevent myself from going and raiding the fridge.
Sunday 9 October 2011
Slip and Slide
Picture the scene - I'm driving to work, wearing my angry wig of course, and by that I mean I have my roof down and my bright red hair flying all over the place. Why do I have my roof down? Naturally, I got out of bed at the last second and then had a shower, so my hair is still wet. I use my open roof as a hair-dryer on the way to work. Always have done. Anyways, I'm driving to work, singing/bellowing along to this song:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YWEddEroJH8
(It's a grower. It grew on me. This is a snippet of it. GO AND LISTEN TO IT AND WATCH THE BEAUTIFUL ANIMATION!!!! And notice I said 'singing along to' - Hells yeah I am awesome at Japanese singing now ^_____^ *TWACK* *Ahem*) My driving song, which I can never listen to again due to what happened as I went round the smallest roundabout in the entire known universe. I'm not particularly sure what happened, but all of a sudden I found myself mounted on the damn thing, facing the opposite direction to the direction you are meant to move on a roundabout. Direction.
A man and his girlfriend came running over as they saw me 'slumped over the steering wheel unconscious'. Nay, try 'slumped over the steering wheel in absolute hysterical tears'. I was shaking so much he had to drive the literal few feet to work for me, where I went inside, collapsed, calmed down, collapsed, calmed down, did half an hour of work, collapsed and got sent home. In that exact order. Mummy was proud - I got straight back on the horse, so to speak. As in 'I drove home' (which is more than can be said of what I actually did when I fell off an actual horse - I limped off, crying and haven't got on a horse since. I'm now slightly frightened of them. You be the judge.)
I went to my aunt's house to be around family. I would have gone to my Dad's, but naturally he's an arse and moved to Scotland a few months ago. Interesting trivia for you - I grew up in Derby, and my dad still lived there once my parents divorced and we moved away, which is one of the reasons why I chose Derby uni, my literal thoughts being 'Oooh, I know the area and I can spend a bit more time with my dad!'. As soon as I stepped FOOT in Derby he turned round and said, and I quote, "Oh yeahhhhhhh, I'm kinda moving to Scotland at the end of the year." Arses. I still love my daddy ^_^
Oh yeah, the short and short of it is: I'm fine. No damage at all, to me or the car, which is good. I don't understand my body sometimes when it comes in to contact with cars at high speeds (or slithering round a roundabout at 10mph) and there is no damage. Remember last December? When the snow hit Derby? A car skidded on to the pavement and hit me. Not a mark on me! I think I must be bionic or something... It is odd though - I can get hit by a car several times and come out with either nothing or a bit of light bruising, but I go and shut my hand in a freezer door at work and break my thumb. Answers on a postcard please :)
Plan wise at the mo, things are awesome - I have my dishes planned for our little Come Dine With Me competition. I've had to go with a proper vegetarian dish and not a fish one - Katie is a proper veggie (unlike me haha) and Amz eats anything. We also have a fish tank sat in our living room. It's getting filled with fish on Tuesday. To say I'm excited would be a total understatement.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YWEddEroJH8
(It's a grower. It grew on me. This is a snippet of it. GO AND LISTEN TO IT AND WATCH THE BEAUTIFUL ANIMATION!!!! And notice I said 'singing along to' - Hells yeah I am awesome at Japanese singing now ^_____^ *TWACK* *Ahem*) My driving song, which I can never listen to again due to what happened as I went round the smallest roundabout in the entire known universe. I'm not particularly sure what happened, but all of a sudden I found myself mounted on the damn thing, facing the opposite direction to the direction you are meant to move on a roundabout. Direction.
A man and his girlfriend came running over as they saw me 'slumped over the steering wheel unconscious'. Nay, try 'slumped over the steering wheel in absolute hysterical tears'. I was shaking so much he had to drive the literal few feet to work for me, where I went inside, collapsed, calmed down, collapsed, calmed down, did half an hour of work, collapsed and got sent home. In that exact order. Mummy was proud - I got straight back on the horse, so to speak. As in 'I drove home' (which is more than can be said of what I actually did when I fell off an actual horse - I limped off, crying and haven't got on a horse since. I'm now slightly frightened of them. You be the judge.)
I went to my aunt's house to be around family. I would have gone to my Dad's, but naturally he's an arse and moved to Scotland a few months ago. Interesting trivia for you - I grew up in Derby, and my dad still lived there once my parents divorced and we moved away, which is one of the reasons why I chose Derby uni, my literal thoughts being 'Oooh, I know the area and I can spend a bit more time with my dad!'. As soon as I stepped FOOT in Derby he turned round and said, and I quote, "Oh yeahhhhhhh, I'm kinda moving to Scotland at the end of the year." Arses. I still love my daddy ^_^
Oh yeah, the short and short of it is: I'm fine. No damage at all, to me or the car, which is good. I don't understand my body sometimes when it comes in to contact with cars at high speeds (or slithering round a roundabout at 10mph) and there is no damage. Remember last December? When the snow hit Derby? A car skidded on to the pavement and hit me. Not a mark on me! I think I must be bionic or something... It is odd though - I can get hit by a car several times and come out with either nothing or a bit of light bruising, but I go and shut my hand in a freezer door at work and break my thumb. Answers on a postcard please :)
Plan wise at the mo, things are awesome - I have my dishes planned for our little Come Dine With Me competition. I've had to go with a proper vegetarian dish and not a fish one - Katie is a proper veggie (unlike me haha) and Amz eats anything. We also have a fish tank sat in our living room. It's getting filled with fish on Tuesday. To say I'm excited would be a total understatement.
Thursday 6 October 2011
Sha-TING!!!!
It's official - I am 'bang tidy'. Yup! The master of Northern comedy (and by that I mean he's actually trying to be funny. Unlike those fuckers in Corrie - they're trying to be serious, and it's hysterical. Anyways...) Mr Keith Lemon said, very loudly to a store full of shopping people, that he would love to smash my back doors in. The rough English translation of this phrase, as defined in his pant-wettingly hilarious book, is: "I would go to any lengths to seduce that lady/ she is a total looker." I did a bit of sex wee I was so excited.
Naturally, because Lincolnshire is a boring as arse place and nothing ever happens there ever, you should be able to tell that I'm back in Derby. I have 2 jobs - KFC, of course. I'd like to know what Jason said to Ant, my new boss, in order to make him so excited to have me in his store. I've never seen a man so happy to see me before. And that's saying something! I'm also an Ann Summers rep, which many believe is my ideal job. Yup, an Ann Summers rep. People's literal comments seem to be along the lines of "That job is PERFECT for you as you've always got sex on the brain/you're sex mad/ you're sexy." Whereas they SHOULD be saying things along the lines of "Leah, you are so good in lectures and tutorials and your grades are really impressive, you will certainly get a job within the Criminal Justice System!"
I now live in a little house in the centre of Derby with Amy and Katie, which is awesome! The house is so sweet and our garden backs on to Lisa and Georgie's so we're constantly climbing over the wall to visit/they always climb over to nick my Disney DVDs. The wall climbing comes in handy, as on Monday I found myself sitting in a 10ft swimming pool in their garden in the middle of the night, pissed as a skunk, before being dragged to my own house to shove on a pair of heels (and to change out of my bikini of course. Fools.) Emily then got in to my shed for a bit. I'm not kidding. This year is going to be a fantastic year.
Living on the main road is a bit of an interesting experience in comparison with living in the literal dead end of nowhere - last night I had to listen as someone stopped and vomited outside the front door. Loudly. The front door opens in to my room. Essentially, a man vomited outside my room. And I just looked out of my window to watch a man punch my car. Erm... Why the fuck?
Yup, interesting experiences mounting up already...
Naturally, because Lincolnshire is a boring as arse place and nothing ever happens there ever, you should be able to tell that I'm back in Derby. I have 2 jobs - KFC, of course. I'd like to know what Jason said to Ant, my new boss, in order to make him so excited to have me in his store. I've never seen a man so happy to see me before. And that's saying something! I'm also an Ann Summers rep, which many believe is my ideal job. Yup, an Ann Summers rep. People's literal comments seem to be along the lines of "That job is PERFECT for you as you've always got sex on the brain/you're sex mad/ you're sexy." Whereas they SHOULD be saying things along the lines of "Leah, you are so good in lectures and tutorials and your grades are really impressive, you will certainly get a job within the Criminal Justice System!"
I now live in a little house in the centre of Derby with Amy and Katie, which is awesome! The house is so sweet and our garden backs on to Lisa and Georgie's so we're constantly climbing over the wall to visit/they always climb over to nick my Disney DVDs. The wall climbing comes in handy, as on Monday I found myself sitting in a 10ft swimming pool in their garden in the middle of the night, pissed as a skunk, before being dragged to my own house to shove on a pair of heels (and to change out of my bikini of course. Fools.) Emily then got in to my shed for a bit. I'm not kidding. This year is going to be a fantastic year.
Living on the main road is a bit of an interesting experience in comparison with living in the literal dead end of nowhere - last night I had to listen as someone stopped and vomited outside the front door. Loudly. The front door opens in to my room. Essentially, a man vomited outside my room. And I just looked out of my window to watch a man punch my car. Erm... Why the fuck?
Yup, interesting experiences mounting up already...
Thursday 22 September 2011
Not Suitable For Adults
I wandered in to work the other morning, humming a merry tune and trying to make my trousers not look as though they'd had an argument with my ankles, when I literally bumped in to my boss, who greeted me with, I kid you not, "EH OH!!" and offered me some "tubby toast" in the form of a slice of cheese. Yup, that's my big boss man! Conversation that morning was about The Telletubbies. Thankfully, we didn't change the topic to sex until quite some time afterwards. Talking about a child's TV show and sex in the same context just reeks of 'Paedophile'.
The Tubbies of course, consist of Tinky Winky, Dipsy, Lala and Po, 4, er, children-esque creatures of unknown species with TV screens on their stomachs, funny shaped ariels on their head and each with their own special item. The main message that this show seems to give across to children? 'TV GOOOOOOOOOOD!!! IMAGINATION BAD!!' Which contradicts what most parents should be telling their children, which is a fantastic start.
Next, the names of the damn things - Tinky Winky? The male tubbie who is quite clearly a raving poofter as his special item is a friggin' handbag! Judging by his name, he has a tiny penis too. Dipsy? With a straight ariel, which is quite obviously a symbol for him being a total knobhead. Lala? A ditzy blonde who is always in 'Lalaland' and finally Po. All the tubbies were blatantly named by children, Po was probably originally christened 'Poo' and censored. 'nuff said.
Tinky Winky has a handbag, a clear expression of his sexuality, and Dipsy has a hat. With a hole in it, rendering it useless anyway. The male tubbies have fashion statements, and the female ones have toys. Again, the males are clearly massive homosexuals - not that it's a bad thing, I just think it'll make children confused about how they should act when they get older. No wonder there are so many 11 year olds claiming that they're gay or bi. Lala has a massive bollock, sorry, BALL, clearly demonstrating her slaggish tendancies and she obviously is a fan of balls. Po is clearly on something - there's no normal way for her to be able to move so fast on that scooter.
The sun with the baby face is just terrifying, all the characters have OCD or ADHD or are on the autistic spectrum, or all 3 (Christ, my spelling's taken a tumble, hasn't it?) and there is a scene that has scarred me for life - a puppet running around a house and turning lights on and off. That's the sort of thing I have nightmares about.
But yes, I spent the rest of the day singing "Hat, hat haaa-aaaaat, hat!" with Sarah. We are adults. It was a lovely last day, seeing as I return to Derby on Saturday! Yeeeee!!! Oh, wait, did I say saturday? I meant to say "I was meant to enroll today, despite having already done so online!!!" So, it was up at 6 to get to Derby for 10 in order to just sit at a desk with some random woman, say "100147846", look at a picture of myself, and say "Yes, that's me." I spent 5 hours using almost a full tank of petrol covering almost 200 miles in order to say a mere 2 sentences.
...
...
...
...
I'M A HAPPY CAMPERRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Oh, and I'm back on Plentyoffish.com. Again. Fishing is fun, and some conversations with a certain Mr provide a wonderful pick me up ^^ (No, of course I'm not writing this because I know he'll read it... :P)
My mum just came and presented me with a new sticker for my car. It says 'POTATO!'. My mum is awesome.
The Tubbies of course, consist of Tinky Winky, Dipsy, Lala and Po, 4, er, children-esque creatures of unknown species with TV screens on their stomachs, funny shaped ariels on their head and each with their own special item. The main message that this show seems to give across to children? 'TV GOOOOOOOOOOD!!! IMAGINATION BAD!!' Which contradicts what most parents should be telling their children, which is a fantastic start.
Next, the names of the damn things - Tinky Winky? The male tubbie who is quite clearly a raving poofter as his special item is a friggin' handbag! Judging by his name, he has a tiny penis too. Dipsy? With a straight ariel, which is quite obviously a symbol for him being a total knobhead. Lala? A ditzy blonde who is always in 'Lalaland' and finally Po. All the tubbies were blatantly named by children, Po was probably originally christened 'Poo' and censored. 'nuff said.
Tinky Winky has a handbag, a clear expression of his sexuality, and Dipsy has a hat. With a hole in it, rendering it useless anyway. The male tubbies have fashion statements, and the female ones have toys. Again, the males are clearly massive homosexuals - not that it's a bad thing, I just think it'll make children confused about how they should act when they get older. No wonder there are so many 11 year olds claiming that they're gay or bi. Lala has a massive bollock, sorry, BALL, clearly demonstrating her slaggish tendancies and she obviously is a fan of balls. Po is clearly on something - there's no normal way for her to be able to move so fast on that scooter.
The sun with the baby face is just terrifying, all the characters have OCD or ADHD or are on the autistic spectrum, or all 3 (Christ, my spelling's taken a tumble, hasn't it?) and there is a scene that has scarred me for life - a puppet running around a house and turning lights on and off. That's the sort of thing I have nightmares about.
But yes, I spent the rest of the day singing "Hat, hat haaa-aaaaat, hat!" with Sarah. We are adults. It was a lovely last day, seeing as I return to Derby on Saturday! Yeeeee!!! Oh, wait, did I say saturday? I meant to say "I was meant to enroll today, despite having already done so online!!!" So, it was up at 6 to get to Derby for 10 in order to just sit at a desk with some random woman, say "100147846", look at a picture of myself, and say "Yes, that's me." I spent 5 hours using almost a full tank of petrol covering almost 200 miles in order to say a mere 2 sentences.
...
...
...
...
I'M A HAPPY CAMPERRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Oh, and I'm back on Plentyoffish.com. Again. Fishing is fun, and some conversations with a certain Mr provide a wonderful pick me up ^^ (No, of course I'm not writing this because I know he'll read it... :P)
My mum just came and presented me with a new sticker for my car. It says 'POTATO!'. My mum is awesome.
Sunday 18 September 2011
That's What She Said
Y'know, I think I have a mind that is not capable of anything other than turning everything I ever see or hear ever in to something rude or dirty or sexual or sexual. Or sexual.
Whenever someone says so much as "oooh, that's a big one!" (i.e. my mother in reference to a spot on my brother's nose) I immediately start grinning like a baffoon. Just last night as I was stood hideously sober in the middle of a club, my GORGEOUS new high heels slowly eating away at the balls of my feet and steadily snapping my toes in half, without even the pain-numbing qualities of vast quantities of alcohol to stop tears from being brought to my eyes, I turned to Sarah and asked her what she was drinking. "Sex On The Beach." She replied with a smile. Yes, that drink title obviously has the word 'sex' in the title, but my mind immediately started babbling away about "how much fun that would like to be.. Wouldn't mind trying that some time..."
Every conversation we have at work seems to work its way back on to the topic of sex in one way or another. We are massive fans of 'pub dilemas', such as "If you could sleep with any male celebrities. Repeatedly. Who would you pick?" I've even earned a nickname of 'Mrs Bucket' or 'Sex Machine' at work, which are delightful titles as you can imagine. I don't help myself, but then again, why should I try to?
I'm just being me, and that person just happens to be very comfortable with her own sexuality and expressive in her mannerisms about it. Feel free to take this any way you want (oooer). But yes, sex is fantastic (well, depending on who you're sleeping with of course,) although it is rather like eating a Pringle - 'Once You Pop, You Can't Stop'.
Whenever someone says so much as "oooh, that's a big one!" (i.e. my mother in reference to a spot on my brother's nose) I immediately start grinning like a baffoon. Just last night as I was stood hideously sober in the middle of a club, my GORGEOUS new high heels slowly eating away at the balls of my feet and steadily snapping my toes in half, without even the pain-numbing qualities of vast quantities of alcohol to stop tears from being brought to my eyes, I turned to Sarah and asked her what she was drinking. "Sex On The Beach." She replied with a smile. Yes, that drink title obviously has the word 'sex' in the title, but my mind immediately started babbling away about "how much fun that would like to be.. Wouldn't mind trying that some time..."
Every conversation we have at work seems to work its way back on to the topic of sex in one way or another. We are massive fans of 'pub dilemas', such as "If you could sleep with any male celebrities. Repeatedly. Who would you pick?" I've even earned a nickname of 'Mrs Bucket' or 'Sex Machine' at work, which are delightful titles as you can imagine. I don't help myself, but then again, why should I try to?
I'm just being me, and that person just happens to be very comfortable with her own sexuality and expressive in her mannerisms about it. Feel free to take this any way you want (oooer). But yes, sex is fantastic (well, depending on who you're sleeping with of course,) although it is rather like eating a Pringle - 'Once You Pop, You Can't Stop'.
Sunday 11 September 2011
I've Never Killed A Man Just To Watch Him Die
I haven't. Although, some of the plebs that I have to deal with on a daily basis have come pretty close to causing me to change the title to something like "I once killed a man because he threw a chilled hot wing at my face because he hadn't eaten it within half an hour of purchasing it because he was an utter moron." That, of course, is a true story.
Naturally, I'm not capable of having a normal day at work. Last week I collapsed after I pulled a box of fries on to my head. The next day I walked in to an open (hot) cress door and got a nose bleed. The day after that a customer threw a drink at me. The day after that my shirt burst open, yet again, and I didn't realise for about 10 minutes. The day after that Daniel thought he'd slap my ass with full force while I was serving a customer causing me to scream in their face. Finally, yesterday Chubbs thought it would be absolutely HYSTERICAL to demonstrate how loose my work trousers actually are and pulled them down infront of the entire store.
Ah, I do love my male work mates. It's like they've never seen a woman before! There is actually now a small percentage that look me in the eye when they talk to me, which is nice. It's an improvement from virtually none of them. Male customers are the same, which is incredibly irritating. Today I had some of our friends from 'Across The Big Pond' i.e. America who asked me, I kid you not, literally 6 times for mashed potatoes. I told them at least 9 times which side orders with have, which doesn't include mashed potatoes. Every time I looked at them there was a slight pause while they looked up to find my face again.
People get so touchy about their chicken. I'd normally say it's absolutely hilarious but when you're on the recieving ends of threats, insults, throws and physical grabbing, the situation somewhat loses it hilarity. It is fun when you are faced with an extremely red-faced customer screaming blue murder because he "didn't want fucking cheese on his fucking burger" and you are an "ugly skank who needs a breast reduction" and you can smile and wave as they are escorted out of the store by your boss and banned while the entire restaurant claps.
Naturally, I'm not capable of having a normal day at work. Last week I collapsed after I pulled a box of fries on to my head. The next day I walked in to an open (hot) cress door and got a nose bleed. The day after that a customer threw a drink at me. The day after that my shirt burst open, yet again, and I didn't realise for about 10 minutes. The day after that Daniel thought he'd slap my ass with full force while I was serving a customer causing me to scream in their face. Finally, yesterday Chubbs thought it would be absolutely HYSTERICAL to demonstrate how loose my work trousers actually are and pulled them down infront of the entire store.
Ah, I do love my male work mates. It's like they've never seen a woman before! There is actually now a small percentage that look me in the eye when they talk to me, which is nice. It's an improvement from virtually none of them. Male customers are the same, which is incredibly irritating. Today I had some of our friends from 'Across The Big Pond' i.e. America who asked me, I kid you not, literally 6 times for mashed potatoes. I told them at least 9 times which side orders with have, which doesn't include mashed potatoes. Every time I looked at them there was a slight pause while they looked up to find my face again.
People get so touchy about their chicken. I'd normally say it's absolutely hilarious but when you're on the recieving ends of threats, insults, throws and physical grabbing, the situation somewhat loses it hilarity. It is fun when you are faced with an extremely red-faced customer screaming blue murder because he "didn't want fucking cheese on his fucking burger" and you are an "ugly skank who needs a breast reduction" and you can smile and wave as they are escorted out of the store by your boss and banned while the entire restaurant claps.
Sunday 28 August 2011
Countdown and Life Changes
O hayou gozaimasu, kon nichiwa, konbanwa, oyasuninasai... That's right, where ever you are and whatever time you may be reading this - good morning, good afternoon, good evening and good night! Mattete kurete arigatou! It's been a while, hasn't it? So, as I said just now - thanks for waiting!
As you may or may not be able to tell, my Japanese study is coming on in leaps and bounds - I can read a little kanji, and my katamara and hiragana is beginning to get a bit on the 'awesome' side. Demo, I have little confidence when it comes to writing kanji (which makes a surreal change) ano, daijoubu, I'm trying to improve! (Iu wa yasuku okonau wa katashi!! www) So watch this space.
So... The sun is actually out for once and my hayfever has actually screamed 'MWAHAHAHA' and attacked with a vengence. Hidoi kao shiteru. ¬______¬ (I look awful) and it's almost time for my return to the wonderful world of UNIVERSITY! Waku waku suru!! I've missed it, to be sure to be sure. Kotoshi koso ii hito ni meguriaemasu youni ;) Hehehe...
I've made a list of essentials I need to purchase for next year, like a new double duvet, paper, The Lion King on DVD... Baka...
As you may or may not be able to tell, my Japanese study is coming on in leaps and bounds - I can read a little kanji, and my katamara and hiragana is beginning to get a bit on the 'awesome' side. Demo, I have little confidence when it comes to writing kanji (which makes a surreal change) ano, daijoubu, I'm trying to improve! (Iu wa yasuku okonau wa katashi!! www) So watch this space.
So... The sun is actually out for once and my hayfever has actually screamed 'MWAHAHAHA' and attacked with a vengence. Hidoi kao shiteru. ¬______¬ (I look awful) and it's almost time for my return to the wonderful world of UNIVERSITY! Waku waku suru!! I've missed it, to be sure to be sure. Kotoshi koso ii hito ni meguriaemasu youni ;) Hehehe...
I've made a list of essentials I need to purchase for next year, like a new double duvet, paper, The Lion King on DVD... Baka...
Saturday 6 August 2011
Pet Shop of Horrors
Everyone has pet hates, right? Here are some of mine. I doubt you will disagree with me on them. Of course, they mainly span around the two things I hate most in my life - people of the road, and my job.
1. The Expectant Hand
I know everyone has dealt with The Expectant Hand. What is it? Well, has anyone asked you to pass them something? The Expectant Hand appears in most occasions after this - as soon as you consent to passing said asked for item, a hand from the asker just WAITS in limbo for you to hand over the item. I HATE it! Just be bloody patient - I said I'd pass you the damn thing, so I will. I didn't just say I would so that I could actually NOT pass you what you wanted and watch your face crumple with sadness. This is something I get at work a lot. To deal with The Expectant Hand is simple - simply look down at it, then take longer to do whatever it is you're doing before handing it to them. The Hand soon gets tired of hanging around and buggers off.
2. Your/You're They're/there/their too/to - uh, WHA????
People not being able to use the correct spelling of these certain words. Seriously. How is it difficult?!?! For example - You're is obviously 'you' and 'are' combined. You can SEE IT! I learned this in primary school for Christ's sake. The worst one is when people write "Your such a twat". What? I'm a 'such a twat' belonging to someone? I thought as such. Fools.
3. Wet socks.
Just Ew. The worst feeling EVER. I have a new puppy that pees EVERYWHERE and the other day I accidentally trod in a puddle of it and did a massive scream. Not at the fact that I'd trodden in urine and it was gross, but because I had obtained wet socks.
4. Road Hogs
Just generally people driving like knobs. Mainly, those that overtake A LOT. 60 mph not fast enough for you? Or those that overtake 38768 cars at once (Obviously they lack a penis). Wheel spinning out of drive thru is a good one too - I'm not impressed. You're just making a lot of noise. The ABSOLUTE worst are the people that overtake you, then immediately turn off the road. WHAT THE HELL?!?!? I could understand if your wife was in labour and I was blocking the way to hospital but if you're just impatient... What the hell is the matter with you?!?!?!?
5. Get Your Own Book
People reading over my shoulder. Just bugger off. I know what I'm doing must be SUPER interesting but seriously - I will stop doing it for just long enough to punch you in the face before continuing again.
6. Sticky Hands
Do NOT touch me with them, and I will not touch you with mine. You are gross.
7. Throat clearing
I may just not be listening to you fullstop. Clearing your throat is just going to make me ignore you more. I guarantee it.
8. Slow - people moving? I dunno, I CAN'T TELL!!!!
Wandering down the street in a huge, wide MASS going at -2 mph, driving along at 40 in a 60 zone, getting to the speaker box at the KFC Drive Thru and taking a minute to READ the menu. Everything in this day and age is made so we can live faster and get things done quicker. This means, we need to sodding well catch up first!!!
1. The Expectant Hand
I know everyone has dealt with The Expectant Hand. What is it? Well, has anyone asked you to pass them something? The Expectant Hand appears in most occasions after this - as soon as you consent to passing said asked for item, a hand from the asker just WAITS in limbo for you to hand over the item. I HATE it! Just be bloody patient - I said I'd pass you the damn thing, so I will. I didn't just say I would so that I could actually NOT pass you what you wanted and watch your face crumple with sadness. This is something I get at work a lot. To deal with The Expectant Hand is simple - simply look down at it, then take longer to do whatever it is you're doing before handing it to them. The Hand soon gets tired of hanging around and buggers off.
2. Your/You're They're/there/their too/to - uh, WHA????
People not being able to use the correct spelling of these certain words. Seriously. How is it difficult?!?! For example - You're is obviously 'you' and 'are' combined. You can SEE IT! I learned this in primary school for Christ's sake. The worst one is when people write "Your such a twat". What? I'm a 'such a twat' belonging to someone? I thought as such. Fools.
3. Wet socks.
Just Ew. The worst feeling EVER. I have a new puppy that pees EVERYWHERE and the other day I accidentally trod in a puddle of it and did a massive scream. Not at the fact that I'd trodden in urine and it was gross, but because I had obtained wet socks.
4. Road Hogs
Just generally people driving like knobs. Mainly, those that overtake A LOT. 60 mph not fast enough for you? Or those that overtake 38768 cars at once (Obviously they lack a penis). Wheel spinning out of drive thru is a good one too - I'm not impressed. You're just making a lot of noise. The ABSOLUTE worst are the people that overtake you, then immediately turn off the road. WHAT THE HELL?!?!? I could understand if your wife was in labour and I was blocking the way to hospital but if you're just impatient... What the hell is the matter with you?!?!?!?
5. Get Your Own Book
People reading over my shoulder. Just bugger off. I know what I'm doing must be SUPER interesting but seriously - I will stop doing it for just long enough to punch you in the face before continuing again.
6. Sticky Hands
Do NOT touch me with them, and I will not touch you with mine. You are gross.
7. Throat clearing
I may just not be listening to you fullstop. Clearing your throat is just going to make me ignore you more. I guarantee it.
8. Slow - people moving? I dunno, I CAN'T TELL!!!!
Wandering down the street in a huge, wide MASS going at -2 mph, driving along at 40 in a 60 zone, getting to the speaker box at the KFC Drive Thru and taking a minute to READ the menu. Everything in this day and age is made so we can live faster and get things done quicker. This means, we need to sodding well catch up first!!!
Monday 11 July 2011
Child Abuse
So, the Beckhams FINALLY have that daughter they've been dreaming of for 11years or there abouts. What have they named their already much-loved bundle of joy from God?*Vomits* *Ahem*
Harper Seven.
Harper Seven Beckham.
¬_¬
They've had 11 years to think of what they want to name their darling child and they come up with THAT?! Um, WTF? Is it even a name? I thought it was a race car name or a special term for something exceedingly fast (You know, Mac One, Harper Seven... It fits!)
What is it with celebrities naming their children total bollocks? Apple Martin and Coco Arquette would have been my previous headliners for this statement, but those girlies have positively NORMAL names compared to poor Harper Seven. Imagine the abuse she's gonna get at school for her bizzare name! Poor kid...
Even Harper, although the 887th most popular female name in America last year, is odd. Seven as a middle name? Just no.
Although, congrats to them and each to their own and all that jazz...
........... Seven........
Harper Seven.
Harper Seven Beckham.
¬_¬
They've had 11 years to think of what they want to name their darling child and they come up with THAT?! Um, WTF? Is it even a name? I thought it was a race car name or a special term for something exceedingly fast (You know, Mac One, Harper Seven... It fits!)
What is it with celebrities naming their children total bollocks? Apple Martin and Coco Arquette would have been my previous headliners for this statement, but those girlies have positively NORMAL names compared to poor Harper Seven. Imagine the abuse she's gonna get at school for her bizzare name! Poor kid...
Even Harper, although the 887th most popular female name in America last year, is odd. Seven as a middle name? Just no.
Although, congrats to them and each to their own and all that jazz...
........... Seven........
Tuesday 21 June 2011
Exit, Stage Left.
Or right. Whatever you do, just get off the damn stage. Quickly. Unfortunately, I had one of those moments when I didn't exit from the stage quick enough and found myself covered in old eggs and rotten tomatoes thrown by a hysterically laughing audience at my feet.
A few days ago I had a conversation with my mother about our worst fear in the world, a fear we both share. No, it not technically a phobia of sorts, though I guess if it had to have one of those ridiculously long names just to fit in with all the other phobias and so they don't take the piss out of it, then it would have to be Lackofmoneytopayforhugeamountofpetrolaphobia. In English (or, with the spaces put back in) a fear of not being able to pay for your petrol after filling up. Sweet Jesus, just the thought of it made us wince. We couldn't work out what you would do - it's not like you could go and get some money on your own, as surely you would bugger off never to return. So what? Get someone to come and bring you money? Hope some passing millionaire feels pity for your pathetic situation? Fortunately for us, I learned today exactly what happens. Holy Hell.
Yup. Picture the scene: I've had a looooooong hard day at work, done extra hours and am heading home. Unfortunately, the amount of petrol left in my petrol tank means that, if I don't fill up before setting off for home I'll find myself half way there, at the side of the road looking like a total knob, weeping in to my work shirt and hitting my head on the horn repeatedly. Hard. Sooooo... Petrol time!! Easing the petrol pump from its holder and gently sliding it in to the hole leading to my petrol tank I apply slight pressure to the handle to get the juices flowing (Yes, I cannot even put petrol in my car without making it sexual.) £35 in later and I head for the tills, a massive queue forming behind me and myself resisting all urges to call out about being in a Michael Mcintyre sketch. Smugly, being in the queue before it got too big, I thrust my card in to the machine with gusto and swiftly tap in my PIN and flash a quick grin to the people behind me. "I'm sorry, young lady, but your card has been declined." "Oh. OK then... Could we try it again? I've been having some trouble with my card lately" (Woe is me for risking it.) Gingerly I put my card back in, heart thudding so loud I could hear it over the general groans and tuttings coming from behind me. Nope, card declined again. I resisted the urge to throw my wallet at the cashier's head and turn and plough through the queue behind me in an attempt to escape but naturally, I had instantly become trapped there.
Instead, I found myself on the phone to my mother, asking for her card details to 'break the usual rules and pay over the phone' and hearing her scream of abject terror when I told her she had to spend £35 on petrol that wasn't even in her own car. Finally, I was free. I ended the phone call to my mum with "I'm racing home to sob in to your arms, now." turned to the cashier and lightly said "Well, that was my worst nightmare. At least now I've experienced it once I won't have to again. Like chicken pox. Toodles!" and all but ran from the till, knocking over shelving units with gay abandon as I went (ok, I made that bit up). So what happens when you can't pay for petrol? You all but die of embarassment and have to have money sent to you somehow. They should have a pen of shame in the corner for you to stand in while you wait, where people can freely mock you and show you how smug they are that they have money and aren't a penniless git.
On a brighter note, I got home to find a wack wack sitting in the garden. Yes, I am the proud owner of a frigging DUCK!!!!!!!!!!! XD My mum had gone out and got her for me to cheer me up. My mum is awesome.
A few days ago I had a conversation with my mother about our worst fear in the world, a fear we both share. No, it not technically a phobia of sorts, though I guess if it had to have one of those ridiculously long names just to fit in with all the other phobias and so they don't take the piss out of it, then it would have to be Lackofmoneytopayforhugeamountofpetrolaphobia. In English (or, with the spaces put back in) a fear of not being able to pay for your petrol after filling up. Sweet Jesus, just the thought of it made us wince. We couldn't work out what you would do - it's not like you could go and get some money on your own, as surely you would bugger off never to return. So what? Get someone to come and bring you money? Hope some passing millionaire feels pity for your pathetic situation? Fortunately for us, I learned today exactly what happens. Holy Hell.
Yup. Picture the scene: I've had a looooooong hard day at work, done extra hours and am heading home. Unfortunately, the amount of petrol left in my petrol tank means that, if I don't fill up before setting off for home I'll find myself half way there, at the side of the road looking like a total knob, weeping in to my work shirt and hitting my head on the horn repeatedly. Hard. Sooooo... Petrol time!! Easing the petrol pump from its holder and gently sliding it in to the hole leading to my petrol tank I apply slight pressure to the handle to get the juices flowing (Yes, I cannot even put petrol in my car without making it sexual.) £35 in later and I head for the tills, a massive queue forming behind me and myself resisting all urges to call out about being in a Michael Mcintyre sketch. Smugly, being in the queue before it got too big, I thrust my card in to the machine with gusto and swiftly tap in my PIN and flash a quick grin to the people behind me. "I'm sorry, young lady, but your card has been declined." "Oh. OK then... Could we try it again? I've been having some trouble with my card lately" (Woe is me for risking it.) Gingerly I put my card back in, heart thudding so loud I could hear it over the general groans and tuttings coming from behind me. Nope, card declined again. I resisted the urge to throw my wallet at the cashier's head and turn and plough through the queue behind me in an attempt to escape but naturally, I had instantly become trapped there.
Instead, I found myself on the phone to my mother, asking for her card details to 'break the usual rules and pay over the phone' and hearing her scream of abject terror when I told her she had to spend £35 on petrol that wasn't even in her own car. Finally, I was free. I ended the phone call to my mum with "I'm racing home to sob in to your arms, now." turned to the cashier and lightly said "Well, that was my worst nightmare. At least now I've experienced it once I won't have to again. Like chicken pox. Toodles!" and all but ran from the till, knocking over shelving units with gay abandon as I went (ok, I made that bit up). So what happens when you can't pay for petrol? You all but die of embarassment and have to have money sent to you somehow. They should have a pen of shame in the corner for you to stand in while you wait, where people can freely mock you and show you how smug they are that they have money and aren't a penniless git.
On a brighter note, I got home to find a wack wack sitting in the garden. Yes, I am the proud owner of a frigging DUCK!!!!!!!!!!! XD My mum had gone out and got her for me to cheer me up. My mum is awesome.
Friday 10 June 2011
Talk to The Boobs, As Apparently the Face Isn't Listening
There is no real reason why women have bosoms, well, apart from the whole 'need to feed your infant' thing, but other than that they have no real purpose. Decoration, of course, is a consideration and I'm sure millions of men everywhere will have to admit that they believe thatv they are there merely for decoration. Their 'dribble' stains cannot speak otherwise.
Ok, so let me rephrase slightly - there is no real reason why women have LARGE bosoms. Women that do have to cope with so much and they really don't get anything in return for their troubles. I myself, am one of those women, and by writing a blog about breasts I get the feeling I may write myself in to peoples' thoughts as 'one of those women that has sex with other women.' But with that aside, what is wrong with large boobs?
A lot, I think you'll find is the answer.
1. They get in the way.
Yes, they do A LOT. I haven't seen my feet for about 9 years now, and my feet are a rather large size 9. That is what I am up against. I'm sure there are many women out there who, like me, long to see what has become of their feet.
2. They knock things over.
I have lost count of the number of times I've sent objects/shelving/people flying thanks to turning round too quickly and throwing them a glancing blow with my numga numgas. Small children and short adults alike bounce off in all directions. I once knocked an entire rack of nail varnish off a shelf and it shattered everywhere. What knocked them off? Well, have a guess, but as Mazi always reminds me, it was one of the most amusing and emabarassing moments of MY life.
3. They weigh a tonne.
I am approx. 5"7 tall but I have a slight hunch. Slight, nay, enormous. If I were able to stand up straight I believe I may reach heights of about 6"3. The way I look at the moment I feel like I should be ringing bells in ye olde French cathedral and rubbing shoulders with gyppos and magic statues. And a goat.
4. They are impracticle.
Forget about running. Just forget it. I have actually given myself a black eye when jumping once. Just ugh.
5. They're embarassing.
In the fact that I have to wear a size 18-20 on top, even though I am a mere size 10. Also, in the fact that my work uniform consists of a shirt that buttons up at the front and a shirt that is too small. So, imagine my horror when I was busily serving a man and his family consisting of young and old children alike and I eventually look down for some reason and discover that my shirt has been wide open thanks to over-thrusting of bosoms and my manky bra is on display. I actually cried a bit.
6. They attract unwanted attention. A lot.
There I was, 'happily' mopping the lobby at work as the last bloke walked out of the store. He yelled a farewell as he left. Well, a farewell of sorts. What did he yell at me as he left? "Bye, Tits!!!" How charming. I also believe that it has been almost 10 years since a man has looked me in the eye while having a conversation with me.
7. They're expensive.
Bras to support breasts of such gargantum proportions cannot be found in normal shops (Even though the AVERAGE bra size in the UK is now a 36D) most shops only stock up to 38DD. So step up, specialist shops and step forward hideous huge price tag. My bras cost £40 each. Case = rested.
8. They're painful.
Back pain, chest pain and chronic snoring thanks to the weight of the damn things.
9. They'll change.
Eventually, large breasts will, um, sag, to put it lightly. Shocking images of spaniel ears or a couple of snooker balls in socks come to mind. Followed by the viewer of said images vomiting politely in a corner. Ahhh... I don't know which is the more attractive image - the old boobs or the polite vomiting.
I know I'm not the only one who suffers with things like this, I'm sure. This is why I find women who pay for bigger breasts slightly laughable. Yes, let's pay for pain and scorn and embarassment. Fools.
And for one, why are men so bloody interested in them? All they are are literally just lumps of fat. With nipples attached for added sensation ;) All my complaints aside, I do love my boobs rather a lot. ^^
Ok, so let me rephrase slightly - there is no real reason why women have LARGE bosoms. Women that do have to cope with so much and they really don't get anything in return for their troubles. I myself, am one of those women, and by writing a blog about breasts I get the feeling I may write myself in to peoples' thoughts as 'one of those women that has sex with other women.' But with that aside, what is wrong with large boobs?
A lot, I think you'll find is the answer.
1. They get in the way.
Yes, they do A LOT. I haven't seen my feet for about 9 years now, and my feet are a rather large size 9. That is what I am up against. I'm sure there are many women out there who, like me, long to see what has become of their feet.
2. They knock things over.
I have lost count of the number of times I've sent objects/shelving/people flying thanks to turning round too quickly and throwing them a glancing blow with my numga numgas. Small children and short adults alike bounce off in all directions. I once knocked an entire rack of nail varnish off a shelf and it shattered everywhere. What knocked them off? Well, have a guess, but as Mazi always reminds me, it was one of the most amusing and emabarassing moments of MY life.
3. They weigh a tonne.
I am approx. 5"7 tall but I have a slight hunch. Slight, nay, enormous. If I were able to stand up straight I believe I may reach heights of about 6"3. The way I look at the moment I feel like I should be ringing bells in ye olde French cathedral and rubbing shoulders with gyppos and magic statues. And a goat.
4. They are impracticle.
Forget about running. Just forget it. I have actually given myself a black eye when jumping once. Just ugh.
5. They're embarassing.
In the fact that I have to wear a size 18-20 on top, even though I am a mere size 10. Also, in the fact that my work uniform consists of a shirt that buttons up at the front and a shirt that is too small. So, imagine my horror when I was busily serving a man and his family consisting of young and old children alike and I eventually look down for some reason and discover that my shirt has been wide open thanks to over-thrusting of bosoms and my manky bra is on display. I actually cried a bit.
6. They attract unwanted attention. A lot.
There I was, 'happily' mopping the lobby at work as the last bloke walked out of the store. He yelled a farewell as he left. Well, a farewell of sorts. What did he yell at me as he left? "Bye, Tits!!!" How charming. I also believe that it has been almost 10 years since a man has looked me in the eye while having a conversation with me.
7. They're expensive.
Bras to support breasts of such gargantum proportions cannot be found in normal shops (Even though the AVERAGE bra size in the UK is now a 36D) most shops only stock up to 38DD. So step up, specialist shops and step forward hideous huge price tag. My bras cost £40 each. Case = rested.
8. They're painful.
Back pain, chest pain and chronic snoring thanks to the weight of the damn things.
9. They'll change.
Eventually, large breasts will, um, sag, to put it lightly. Shocking images of spaniel ears or a couple of snooker balls in socks come to mind. Followed by the viewer of said images vomiting politely in a corner. Ahhh... I don't know which is the more attractive image - the old boobs or the polite vomiting.
I know I'm not the only one who suffers with things like this, I'm sure. This is why I find women who pay for bigger breasts slightly laughable. Yes, let's pay for pain and scorn and embarassment. Fools.
And for one, why are men so bloody interested in them? All they are are literally just lumps of fat. With nipples attached for added sensation ;) All my complaints aside, I do love my boobs rather a lot. ^^
Monday 6 June 2011
Mental Retardation - We Are Not Amused
I get the feeling that writing the following statement will cause people to form an angry mob and dig spike-lined pits in my path but: I HATED the original The Hangover film. Physically hated it with every ounce of my soul, smexy Bradley Cooper aside of course, but loathed it none-the-less. It did not make me laugh at all, and trust me - I know funny. So naturally I was not exactly jumping with joy at the thought of going to see the sequal - more like I was dragged kicking and screaming, with only the thought of sucking on a (leave it) Fanta Frozen to entice me a little.
I was pleasantly surprised and enjoyed the movie, I even found myself doing my usual massive bark/hearty laugh. But I found myself listening to the audience more than I would usually, and found that I was laughing almost alone at more subtle moments of humour, and remaining silent while the rest of the audience was reaching a point where they might have had to consider changing their knickers. The reason for their hearty laughter and my stoney silence? Zach Galifianakis, yet another actor who is only capable of playing slight variations of the same character over and over again. In his case, a retard.
For one thing, his character is known to have ADHD. Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder. Here is a brief discription of the condition I have copied from the NHS website:
Attention deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD) is a group of behavioural symptoms that include inattentiveness, hyperactivity and impulsiveness. Attention deficit disorder (ADD) is a type of ADHD.
Common symptoms of ADHD include:
•a short attention span
•restlessness
•being easily distracted
•constant fidgeting
Many people with ADHD also have additional problems, such as sleep disorders or learning difficulties. However, ADHD has no effect on intelligence.
See that last sentence? 'HAS NO EFFECT ON INTELLIGENCE!!!!!!' So why, pray tell, does Zach's character Alan act like such a dumb fuck all the time?!?!? The way he has portrayed the character shows no implications of learning disibilities. So why does he act like said dumb fuck? Because apparantly, that is what people find funny. WHY!?!?! It really isn't! It's infantile and stupid - hence, so is the audience.
It's insulting to an audience - it is assuming that they are also all dumb fucks that need a joke rammed down their throats in order for them to be able to understand it. They aren't allowed to figure the joke out on their own. Every apparant funny moment is so obvious it's like it's accompanied by a fanfare and a massive neon sign screaming:
"LAUGH AT THIS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
I feel sorry for the bloke - he has now awkwardly shoe-horned himself in to a type of character he will play for the rest of his acting career. A retard. My proof of this? Due Date. Same character, different name. Ugh.
I was pleasantly surprised and enjoyed the movie, I even found myself doing my usual massive bark/hearty laugh. But I found myself listening to the audience more than I would usually, and found that I was laughing almost alone at more subtle moments of humour, and remaining silent while the rest of the audience was reaching a point where they might have had to consider changing their knickers. The reason for their hearty laughter and my stoney silence? Zach Galifianakis, yet another actor who is only capable of playing slight variations of the same character over and over again. In his case, a retard.
For one thing, his character is known to have ADHD. Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder. Here is a brief discription of the condition I have copied from the NHS website:
Attention deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD) is a group of behavioural symptoms that include inattentiveness, hyperactivity and impulsiveness. Attention deficit disorder (ADD) is a type of ADHD.
Common symptoms of ADHD include:
•a short attention span
•restlessness
•being easily distracted
•constant fidgeting
Many people with ADHD also have additional problems, such as sleep disorders or learning difficulties. However, ADHD has no effect on intelligence.
See that last sentence? 'HAS NO EFFECT ON INTELLIGENCE!!!!!!' So why, pray tell, does Zach's character Alan act like such a dumb fuck all the time?!?!? The way he has portrayed the character shows no implications of learning disibilities. So why does he act like said dumb fuck? Because apparantly, that is what people find funny. WHY!?!?! It really isn't! It's infantile and stupid - hence, so is the audience.
It's insulting to an audience - it is assuming that they are also all dumb fucks that need a joke rammed down their throats in order for them to be able to understand it. They aren't allowed to figure the joke out on their own. Every apparant funny moment is so obvious it's like it's accompanied by a fanfare and a massive neon sign screaming:
"LAUGH AT THIS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
I feel sorry for the bloke - he has now awkwardly shoe-horned himself in to a type of character he will play for the rest of his acting career. A retard. My proof of this? Due Date. Same character, different name. Ugh.
Thursday 2 June 2011
If It Wasn't For You Meddling Kids...
*Shakes fist at Great Dane and stupid hippy children wearing exceedingly bright items of clothing*
It was about 3 years ago, when I was going through my ultimate 'THERE IS LIFE AFTER DEATH' phase when I found myself in the audience of one of Derek Acorah's live shows. For those of you that found themselves living under rocks or in damp cellars about 3 years ago, Derek Acorah called himself a 'spiritualist medium'. Loosely translated, he claimed to have the gifts that enabled him to hear, feel (creepy), smell (ew) and see the spirits of dead people and was able to communicate with them. He has since been proved to be a fraud, but that isn't the point here.
My point here is the suggestibility of a human mind. Back to the show (I need to paint a picture here, settle down kids). For those of you who aren't stupid enough to have paid to go to one of these things, basically, a medium stands on a stage in a room full of people and waits. Then, if they are feeling generous (and just happen to be following around their loved ones everywhere they go) the spirits of the audience's dead friends and relatives give the mediums CLUES as to who they are. These clues are then relayed to the audience, who speak up if it's their relative, and they have a little chat. Of sorts.
I roared with laughter the entire evening due to the stupidity of the whole set up. It's clear to see that the mediums are quite literally stabbing in the dark and relying on some poor old bat sitting in the audience to cry "OMFG that's my dear GEOFF!!" or else they would find themselves standing in silence, performing to crickets and tumbleweeds. Quite literally, some of the clues given were "I have a person here... Of the male sex... Whose name starts with a letter of the alphabet" and almost immediately you could see men and women alike begin to mutter amoungst themselves and actually CONSULT NOTES that they'd brought about their loved ones (yeah, you loved them soooooooooo much, didn't you??? So much so that you knew sod all about them!!!!!). The following conversations that these poor saps then had with their 'loved ones' were so vague and could be applied to anyone - "You're having money issues." was a popular one as well as "I'm happy and at peace."
Even though I was laughing hysterically the entire time, I felt so sorry for these people who genuinely believed that they were talking to their loved ones. They obviously missed them so much that they were willing to try anything to be able to talk to them and could have taken even the slightest hint from the medium and applied it to their relative. It's sad. It's very sad.
On that note, my mother and I are going to a psychic evening tomorrow night. Tee hee hee.
It was about 3 years ago, when I was going through my ultimate 'THERE IS LIFE AFTER DEATH' phase when I found myself in the audience of one of Derek Acorah's live shows. For those of you that found themselves living under rocks or in damp cellars about 3 years ago, Derek Acorah called himself a 'spiritualist medium'. Loosely translated, he claimed to have the gifts that enabled him to hear, feel (creepy), smell (ew) and see the spirits of dead people and was able to communicate with them. He has since been proved to be a fraud, but that isn't the point here.
My point here is the suggestibility of a human mind. Back to the show (I need to paint a picture here, settle down kids). For those of you who aren't stupid enough to have paid to go to one of these things, basically, a medium stands on a stage in a room full of people and waits. Then, if they are feeling generous (and just happen to be following around their loved ones everywhere they go) the spirits of the audience's dead friends and relatives give the mediums CLUES as to who they are. These clues are then relayed to the audience, who speak up if it's their relative, and they have a little chat. Of sorts.
I roared with laughter the entire evening due to the stupidity of the whole set up. It's clear to see that the mediums are quite literally stabbing in the dark and relying on some poor old bat sitting in the audience to cry "OMFG that's my dear GEOFF!!" or else they would find themselves standing in silence, performing to crickets and tumbleweeds. Quite literally, some of the clues given were "I have a person here... Of the male sex... Whose name starts with a letter of the alphabet" and almost immediately you could see men and women alike begin to mutter amoungst themselves and actually CONSULT NOTES that they'd brought about their loved ones (yeah, you loved them soooooooooo much, didn't you??? So much so that you knew sod all about them!!!!!). The following conversations that these poor saps then had with their 'loved ones' were so vague and could be applied to anyone - "You're having money issues." was a popular one as well as "I'm happy and at peace."
Even though I was laughing hysterically the entire time, I felt so sorry for these people who genuinely believed that they were talking to their loved ones. They obviously missed them so much that they were willing to try anything to be able to talk to them and could have taken even the slightest hint from the medium and applied it to their relative. It's sad. It's very sad.
On that note, my mother and I are going to a psychic evening tomorrow night. Tee hee hee.
Monday 30 May 2011
Sex, Drugs and Rock 'N' Roll
There comes a point in everyone's life when you wake up in an obscure location, clutching the last remaining can/bottle/random object from whatever happened the night before and think one of two things: either "Hmmm... Things got out of hand FAST! When can I go round again?" or "Omg... OMG is this my LIFE?!? Jesus, I gotta get a new one. Fast."
I mysef experienced this situation only on sunday morning - I awoke in a friend's bathroom, topless and clinging on to a tube of toothpaste as if my life depended on it. My initial thought was not "Jesus Christ, where is my crucial article of clothing?" nor was it "Woops, my shift started 2 hours ago." It was infact "I think I might allow that cat to finish licking my hair, I don't have time for a shower." And it was only then that I thought to myself something that made more sense - me being me, it was the first thought.
I'd like to think that I'm one of those people that does not do things in moderation. If I'm gonna drink, I'm gonna down that entire bottle of vodka and then eat that damn fish food. If I'm gonna try weed, I'm gonna smoke that stuff until 5 in the morning and spend at least 10 minutes laughing hysterically at a damp rose bush. If I'm gonna practically eat the face off that bloke I've known for only a few hours, I'm damn well gonna grab the next taxi back to his and fuck his brains out all night. If I'm gonna get a piercing, I'm gonna get as many as I can in the most unusual places I can find. I could go on, but I think you know what I'm talking about.
It is with this revelation that I consider myself truly to be living life to its fullest. Yes, blackouts are extremely frightening and memory loss can serve as either a fear-inducing drug or as a God send (in my case, my memory loss has still not returned and is a God send. I do not feel the shame I should feel about eating fish food and puking all over some guy's living room simply because I do not remember doing it.) I've come a long way since my days of only being able to drink half a glass of cider (or so it seemed) before people would find me weeping in the corner over the fact that I realised that my curtains and bed sheets clashed. No, I am not kidding. 13 is an age at which you are much too young to drink, as I keep telling Christian, but I'll be damned if he ever so much as considers listening to me.
Where was I? Oh yes *Ahem* Yes, people may consider me stupid for drinking until I black out, or dangerous for mixing alcohol and drugs, or slaggy for sleeping with someone I am not in a long-standing relationship with, and to these people I say "Fuck. You." It's my life, I will make my own decisions and mistakes, and I'll bloody well enjoy myself while I'm at it! I don't want to grow up to ANY age and look back at my teenage/early adult years and think "My God, what a boring arse I was." This is the way I'm choosing to live - I'm immature, spontaneous, rude, crass, crude, and dare I say it, sexy to boot as well?
You may wonder where this sudden revelation came from - after all, I'm not really known for such deep thought unless required but it may sometimes take an emotional knock to encourage such thoughts. I learned about a month ago that a family member had been told that he had throat cancer - not pleasant, but sometimes survivable. Something I could easily cope with. I am not naive - I was quite aware that he could die. I even prepared myself for the eventuality that the cancer had spread and it was indeed terminal, but you always have that hope, don't you? That stereotypical 'it won't happen to me' thought process? It was in vain. Throat and lung cancer. An eventually lethal combination. A 4 month sentence given to a man in his 60s, whereas his parents will still be alive and kicking in their late 80s.
Safe to say I shut down emotionally for a while, continuously weeped internally and externally and refused to speak to people for ages. Well, minutes. Life is unfair, and short. As shitty as some of the situations I have found myself in have been, there have been many, I don't intend on wasting any more.
I've never really been one to care about what others think about me, fickle words don't bother me, but after an emotional shut-down of sorts, even more of the once subtle 'fuck you' attitude tends to surface. Don't like it? Well, I believe you might already know the answer to that question. :) In all seriousness though, live life while you can - you never know when it can be taken out from under you, like a table cloth expertly ripped from a laden table. Only death doesn't leave the settings quite as neat for the people left behind.
^^^^^^^^^^^ Goddamn, who knew I was so poetic?? ^_________^
I mysef experienced this situation only on sunday morning - I awoke in a friend's bathroom, topless and clinging on to a tube of toothpaste as if my life depended on it. My initial thought was not "Jesus Christ, where is my crucial article of clothing?" nor was it "Woops, my shift started 2 hours ago." It was infact "I think I might allow that cat to finish licking my hair, I don't have time for a shower." And it was only then that I thought to myself something that made more sense - me being me, it was the first thought.
I'd like to think that I'm one of those people that does not do things in moderation. If I'm gonna drink, I'm gonna down that entire bottle of vodka and then eat that damn fish food. If I'm gonna try weed, I'm gonna smoke that stuff until 5 in the morning and spend at least 10 minutes laughing hysterically at a damp rose bush. If I'm gonna practically eat the face off that bloke I've known for only a few hours, I'm damn well gonna grab the next taxi back to his and fuck his brains out all night. If I'm gonna get a piercing, I'm gonna get as many as I can in the most unusual places I can find. I could go on, but I think you know what I'm talking about.
It is with this revelation that I consider myself truly to be living life to its fullest. Yes, blackouts are extremely frightening and memory loss can serve as either a fear-inducing drug or as a God send (in my case, my memory loss has still not returned and is a God send. I do not feel the shame I should feel about eating fish food and puking all over some guy's living room simply because I do not remember doing it.) I've come a long way since my days of only being able to drink half a glass of cider (or so it seemed) before people would find me weeping in the corner over the fact that I realised that my curtains and bed sheets clashed. No, I am not kidding. 13 is an age at which you are much too young to drink, as I keep telling Christian, but I'll be damned if he ever so much as considers listening to me.
Where was I? Oh yes *Ahem* Yes, people may consider me stupid for drinking until I black out, or dangerous for mixing alcohol and drugs, or slaggy for sleeping with someone I am not in a long-standing relationship with, and to these people I say "Fuck. You." It's my life, I will make my own decisions and mistakes, and I'll bloody well enjoy myself while I'm at it! I don't want to grow up to ANY age and look back at my teenage/early adult years and think "My God, what a boring arse I was." This is the way I'm choosing to live - I'm immature, spontaneous, rude, crass, crude, and dare I say it, sexy to boot as well?
You may wonder where this sudden revelation came from - after all, I'm not really known for such deep thought unless required but it may sometimes take an emotional knock to encourage such thoughts. I learned about a month ago that a family member had been told that he had throat cancer - not pleasant, but sometimes survivable. Something I could easily cope with. I am not naive - I was quite aware that he could die. I even prepared myself for the eventuality that the cancer had spread and it was indeed terminal, but you always have that hope, don't you? That stereotypical 'it won't happen to me' thought process? It was in vain. Throat and lung cancer. An eventually lethal combination. A 4 month sentence given to a man in his 60s, whereas his parents will still be alive and kicking in their late 80s.
Safe to say I shut down emotionally for a while, continuously weeped internally and externally and refused to speak to people for ages. Well, minutes. Life is unfair, and short. As shitty as some of the situations I have found myself in have been, there have been many, I don't intend on wasting any more.
I've never really been one to care about what others think about me, fickle words don't bother me, but after an emotional shut-down of sorts, even more of the once subtle 'fuck you' attitude tends to surface. Don't like it? Well, I believe you might already know the answer to that question. :) In all seriousness though, live life while you can - you never know when it can be taken out from under you, like a table cloth expertly ripped from a laden table. Only death doesn't leave the settings quite as neat for the people left behind.
^^^^^^^^^^^ Goddamn, who knew I was so poetic?? ^_________^
Sunday 15 May 2011
Sex. That Is On Fire.
Simon Neil is the definition of this. You know, the lead singer of Biffy Clyro. He is married, so if anyone out there is the spitting image of him give me a ring. I will sex you up.
In other news, vodka is not my friend - after copious amounts of it I apparently ate fish food. I don't remember this. I woke up in bed, completely naked and with one shoe on the next morning. So kudos for Amz and Dakin for physically carrying me back home. Poor gits.
Insidious is a shit scary film, although I have now seen it 3 times and counting. Have now taken to sharpening my claws to Tiptoe Thru The Tulips by Tiny Tim and singing it endlessly, which is creepy on its own. Go and search for him. He is a creepy creepy man.
I am now well and truly situated at home in my usual position as the household's Lazy Bitch and have shit all hours at work. Following a complaint from me, I now have some of Adam's new bint's shifts, so I call that a small victory. I am now once again on speaking terms with Adam, following a tag team attack at 2 in the morning for 2 HOURS on wednesday while I was trying to frantically attack some assignments due the next day. Ever been insulted and called every name under the sun for 2 hours by your ex? For lots of people out there the answer is probably 'yes.' I bet the reason for your bile-filled attacks was hurt at the break up, or anger at the break up. My apparent wrong-doing? It is apparently Natasha's (the new bint) business regarding how many people I slept with BEFORE getting with Adam, as well as afterwards. WTF?!? He apologised to me today, but she has remained stoney faced. That's fine. I shall do my best to make her feel as uncomfortable at work as is humanly possible :) :) :)
Ever had to rip a broody chicken off of her nest? I have. Bloody hell, they peck for years! The silly bitch had been sitting on broken eggs anyway, and she was so angry about it! Believe me, I can tell. And Ponyo followed in her mother's footsteps and was a shit mother, so once again I have a new chick friend to raise. I called her Kiki, but Christian has decided to call her Winston. ¬_¬
Aaaaaaaaaaaaand I had my belly button pierced (finally) and it is now infected. Bugger. Er, that's about it. So yes. I is back methinks, hopefully for good. And hopefully I shall have something interesting to write about. XD
In other news, vodka is not my friend - after copious amounts of it I apparently ate fish food. I don't remember this. I woke up in bed, completely naked and with one shoe on the next morning. So kudos for Amz and Dakin for physically carrying me back home. Poor gits.
Insidious is a shit scary film, although I have now seen it 3 times and counting. Have now taken to sharpening my claws to Tiptoe Thru The Tulips by Tiny Tim and singing it endlessly, which is creepy on its own. Go and search for him. He is a creepy creepy man.
I am now well and truly situated at home in my usual position as the household's Lazy Bitch and have shit all hours at work. Following a complaint from me, I now have some of Adam's new bint's shifts, so I call that a small victory. I am now once again on speaking terms with Adam, following a tag team attack at 2 in the morning for 2 HOURS on wednesday while I was trying to frantically attack some assignments due the next day. Ever been insulted and called every name under the sun for 2 hours by your ex? For lots of people out there the answer is probably 'yes.' I bet the reason for your bile-filled attacks was hurt at the break up, or anger at the break up. My apparent wrong-doing? It is apparently Natasha's (the new bint) business regarding how many people I slept with BEFORE getting with Adam, as well as afterwards. WTF?!? He apologised to me today, but she has remained stoney faced. That's fine. I shall do my best to make her feel as uncomfortable at work as is humanly possible :) :) :)
Ever had to rip a broody chicken off of her nest? I have. Bloody hell, they peck for years! The silly bitch had been sitting on broken eggs anyway, and she was so angry about it! Believe me, I can tell. And Ponyo followed in her mother's footsteps and was a shit mother, so once again I have a new chick friend to raise. I called her Kiki, but Christian has decided to call her Winston. ¬_¬
Aaaaaaaaaaaaand I had my belly button pierced (finally) and it is now infected. Bugger. Er, that's about it. So yes. I is back methinks, hopefully for good. And hopefully I shall have something interesting to write about. XD
Monday 18 April 2011
Toaster in the Bath? Naaah fanks XD
Wehell, it has been a while, hasn't it mon petite pallies? Where have I been? That, I am going to explain. As I sit here in my too big for me size 10 SHORTS (with my ever so white legs on display. White legs that are fantastically toned and lovely, of course.) I am debating whether to go in to the details. Well, I might as well?
So - just as I was about to begin my daily writings again, I had somewhat of a nervous breakdown. My laptop broke, i had a massive falling out with most of my friends back home, my relationship was destroyed, I had 2 deadlines fast approaching and I literally ran out of money, overdraft and all. This all happened in the space of ummmmmm 3 days and saw me retreating back in to the arms of my mother faster than she could say 'I told you so'. As you can imagine, these events kinda fucked me over and made me even consider sitting in the bath with a toaster in my lap or dragging a straight razor over my wrists. But no more!
Everything is back to its good ol' self (well, of sorts. More on that story later ;)) my friendies are wonderful, my laptop is on the road to recovery (I have learned to live without it, something which I thought I would never be able to do) my bank account is back in the positive for the first time in months. The relationship thing? When you find out that your long distance boyfriend has been fucking one of the girls at work you kinda don't give a shit about whether you are with him anymore or not. Shagging random blokes your best mate introduces you too is also a good way of getting over things. Ever meet someone for the first time and just click? Well, that happened. Amy actually tooks bets on how long it would take for us to end up in bed together. ~following a hideous amount of booze it took about 4 hours. In all honesty, I don't remember much of it.
My weight loss has been amazing - as I wrote earlier, I hit my target of reaching a size 10 on the bottom (previously a size 12-14) and a size 14/16 on top (previously size 18-20) and have gone a bit further, in a bit of a bad way i.e. I can't be arsed to eat :S not so good,but I'm not doing it on purpose! When Charlie found me spralled on the staff room floor following a stint of not eating for about 3 days my mother hit the roof. My meals are now monitored. FFS. I also had to be driven home by my darling ex boyfriend that night, an occassion that really hurt my throat (and not in a 'corrr, that took ages that time!' way, I mean in a 'shouty bitch' kind of a way)
But life is amazing - I've finished my first year of uni, which was a blast I have to say. It's a shame I got with Adam and was with himfor most of the time during my first year, as it's only in the last few weeks I feel that I have become a proper student i.e. LOTSSSSSSSSSSSS of alcohol and sex. As everyone at work says, that is me to a T.
Yes, maybe that is me. Boozy and sexy ;) but I'm a student, I'm 19 and I've now got 4 months to do it all at home. Bring it on - I'm smaller, sexier and more confident. Corrrrr, this is going to be an EPIC summer!!! XD
So - just as I was about to begin my daily writings again, I had somewhat of a nervous breakdown. My laptop broke, i had a massive falling out with most of my friends back home, my relationship was destroyed, I had 2 deadlines fast approaching and I literally ran out of money, overdraft and all. This all happened in the space of ummmmmm 3 days and saw me retreating back in to the arms of my mother faster than she could say 'I told you so'. As you can imagine, these events kinda fucked me over and made me even consider sitting in the bath with a toaster in my lap or dragging a straight razor over my wrists. But no more!
Everything is back to its good ol' self (well, of sorts. More on that story later ;)) my friendies are wonderful, my laptop is on the road to recovery (I have learned to live without it, something which I thought I would never be able to do) my bank account is back in the positive for the first time in months. The relationship thing? When you find out that your long distance boyfriend has been fucking one of the girls at work you kinda don't give a shit about whether you are with him anymore or not. Shagging random blokes your best mate introduces you too is also a good way of getting over things. Ever meet someone for the first time and just click? Well, that happened. Amy actually tooks bets on how long it would take for us to end up in bed together. ~following a hideous amount of booze it took about 4 hours. In all honesty, I don't remember much of it.
My weight loss has been amazing - as I wrote earlier, I hit my target of reaching a size 10 on the bottom (previously a size 12-14) and a size 14/16 on top (previously size 18-20) and have gone a bit further, in a bit of a bad way i.e. I can't be arsed to eat :S not so good,but I'm not doing it on purpose! When Charlie found me spralled on the staff room floor following a stint of not eating for about 3 days my mother hit the roof. My meals are now monitored. FFS. I also had to be driven home by my darling ex boyfriend that night, an occassion that really hurt my throat (and not in a 'corrr, that took ages that time!' way, I mean in a 'shouty bitch' kind of a way)
But life is amazing - I've finished my first year of uni, which was a blast I have to say. It's a shame I got with Adam and was with himfor most of the time during my first year, as it's only in the last few weeks I feel that I have become a proper student i.e. LOTSSSSSSSSSSSS of alcohol and sex. As everyone at work says, that is me to a T.
Yes, maybe that is me. Boozy and sexy ;) but I'm a student, I'm 19 and I've now got 4 months to do it all at home. Bring it on - I'm smaller, sexier and more confident. Corrrrr, this is going to be an EPIC summer!!! XD
Friday 4 March 2011
Here She Is, Doggy Style Anytime!
That is of course a song taken from the first Scary Movie film. A song I unfortunately cannot stop singing for some reason. I think I may be back again as far as the blog writing thing is concerned. I have been ever so busy, and of course I have many tales of my prattish behaviour to tell you.
Sooooo last wednesday I finally got to go and see Black Swan, a film I have wanted to see since it came out (take a wild guess who I went with) and I was disgustingly disappointed by it.Are you meant to laugh the entire way through it? I thought not. My day was made though by Sammy, whom I used to work at the Hallmark with (She asked me why I left. I've left?!?) but she gave me the BEST news EVER! My 'boss', used in the loosest way possible, got the sack. Which is hilarious but also a shame, as I was gonna go and yell at him. Nevermind.
We watched the remake of I Spit On Your Grave. It was FANTASTIC! The original film was banned in several countries, but that one just made me laugh hysterically. Come Thursday Jade and I stocked up on booze for our night in drinking session and I headed of to uni wearing my smartest trousers. I had a job induction at 6, leaving me an hour after uni to walk about 3 1/2 miles. I did it. During the induction we were all chatting and I mentioned that when the induction ended I had about 20 minutes to get back to the bus station, which was about 2 miles away. "Shame, I'm going in the opposite direction, I'd have taken you with me" It was lovely, therefore, watching her driving past me as I stampeded down the road. Bitch. A bus (which I was told was not running) also drove past me. I swear the fucking thing was waving at me. T_T
Do you know what I did? I ran 2 miles in 15 minutes. I think I need a bloody medal, seeing as I was previously a lazy git. Ugh. Following a HILARIOUS night of drinking and playing boardgames (Balderdash. OMFG so funny. And I'm amazing at it) I loitred around until night, after being fed mashed potatoes and cabbage, making me basically orgasm and my Aunt dropped me back home. I headed to Abi's on the idea of just having a few drinks. I got absolutely slaughtered and ended up heading to Blue Note with them. I was so hammered I don't really remember what happened that night, but all I know is that I was sick as soon as we got to the nightclub (I made myself sick in the loo in order to not do it on people's shoes once we got inside) and walked home ALONE at 2 in the morning in the pouring rain. One failed mugging and heartfelt chat with Lissi later and I crashed out.
I was woken by Timmy, my brother, at half 11 and my head exploded. He was in town so I met him for lunch and a mooooovie - Paul, which was funny as fuck but because I hate Seth Rogan I didn't actually like Paul himself. I also bought myself The Life Of Birds on DVD as I have now lost over 1stone wooo! Timmy came back and we prepared for the flat party Lissi and I had arranged the night before. Nice. While most people went out towards the end, I had a small gathering in my room and we watched my favourite youtube videos. I Sit On You and Queen of Vagina are now circulating through my course set. Lol.
uni was its usual stuffs, lolling at everything tbh. Come Wednesday I went to see West is West, which is a fantastic sequal to East is East. I'd highly recommend watching both of them. I will of course be doing movie reviews of all the new films I've seen recently. Which is alot, as we watched Piranhas 3D when we got in - I haven't laughed that hard at a 'horror' film since Jaws 3D. Just hysterical. One delish chinese later and I felt like a fat fuck again ahaha.
But yes - I'm back and I will be writing more often again. Also check out popcorn and pisstakes for my take on the newest cinema hits :)
Sooooo last wednesday I finally got to go and see Black Swan, a film I have wanted to see since it came out (take a wild guess who I went with) and I was disgustingly disappointed by it.Are you meant to laugh the entire way through it? I thought not. My day was made though by Sammy, whom I used to work at the Hallmark with (She asked me why I left. I've left?!?) but she gave me the BEST news EVER! My 'boss', used in the loosest way possible, got the sack. Which is hilarious but also a shame, as I was gonna go and yell at him. Nevermind.
We watched the remake of I Spit On Your Grave. It was FANTASTIC! The original film was banned in several countries, but that one just made me laugh hysterically. Come Thursday Jade and I stocked up on booze for our night in drinking session and I headed of to uni wearing my smartest trousers. I had a job induction at 6, leaving me an hour after uni to walk about 3 1/2 miles. I did it. During the induction we were all chatting and I mentioned that when the induction ended I had about 20 minutes to get back to the bus station, which was about 2 miles away. "Shame, I'm going in the opposite direction, I'd have taken you with me" It was lovely, therefore, watching her driving past me as I stampeded down the road. Bitch. A bus (which I was told was not running) also drove past me. I swear the fucking thing was waving at me. T_T
Do you know what I did? I ran 2 miles in 15 minutes. I think I need a bloody medal, seeing as I was previously a lazy git. Ugh. Following a HILARIOUS night of drinking and playing boardgames (Balderdash. OMFG so funny. And I'm amazing at it) I loitred around until night, after being fed mashed potatoes and cabbage, making me basically orgasm and my Aunt dropped me back home. I headed to Abi's on the idea of just having a few drinks. I got absolutely slaughtered and ended up heading to Blue Note with them. I was so hammered I don't really remember what happened that night, but all I know is that I was sick as soon as we got to the nightclub (I made myself sick in the loo in order to not do it on people's shoes once we got inside) and walked home ALONE at 2 in the morning in the pouring rain. One failed mugging and heartfelt chat with Lissi later and I crashed out.
I was woken by Timmy, my brother, at half 11 and my head exploded. He was in town so I met him for lunch and a mooooovie - Paul, which was funny as fuck but because I hate Seth Rogan I didn't actually like Paul himself. I also bought myself The Life Of Birds on DVD as I have now lost over 1stone wooo! Timmy came back and we prepared for the flat party Lissi and I had arranged the night before. Nice. While most people went out towards the end, I had a small gathering in my room and we watched my favourite youtube videos. I Sit On You and Queen of Vagina are now circulating through my course set. Lol.
uni was its usual stuffs, lolling at everything tbh. Come Wednesday I went to see West is West, which is a fantastic sequal to East is East. I'd highly recommend watching both of them. I will of course be doing movie reviews of all the new films I've seen recently. Which is alot, as we watched Piranhas 3D when we got in - I haven't laughed that hard at a 'horror' film since Jaws 3D. Just hysterical. One delish chinese later and I felt like a fat fuck again ahaha.
But yes - I'm back and I will be writing more often again. Also check out popcorn and pisstakes for my take on the newest cinema hits :)
Sunday 20 February 2011
Moving On Up (Again)
Ok - so, I went home, had an absolutely wonderful weekend with my man (he made me a lemon cheesecake. Holy Hell, was it ever good!) and was lovely til I had to leave again. I was feeling positive. We found a house eventually, which made me even more positive.
I then discovered I had no money and no means to make money. I have never fallen that low before. I cried in the bank. To the manager. Ugh.
Buhuuuuut things are moving on up again ^^ I had a job interview at Pride Park football stadium on tuesday, and while at the cinema with Jade and co I got an email telling me I got the job :) Still looking for more work though ahaha.
My Mr is gonna come and visit soon, and my room and clothes are tidy and fresh. 've lost about 10lbs and am firming up nicely. Yeah. Things are good.
I then discovered I had no money and no means to make money. I have never fallen that low before. I cried in the bank. To the manager. Ugh.
Buhuuuuut things are moving on up again ^^ I had a job interview at Pride Park football stadium on tuesday, and while at the cinema with Jade and co I got an email telling me I got the job :) Still looking for more work though ahaha.
My Mr is gonna come and visit soon, and my room and clothes are tidy and fresh. 've lost about 10lbs and am firming up nicely. Yeah. Things are good.
Wednesday 9 February 2011
Would You Like Some Cock Porn?
To answer bluntly: Yes. Right. Moving on now.
I find myself very much looking forward to stampeding through endless train stations tomorrow, carrying an A3 acrylic portrait of Simba from The Lion King (that I painted myself of course. I'm gonna have to put a picture of it on here at some point. The only thing I've ever painted that's better than this was my demon March Hare. Which I'm also going to put a picture of on here. Anyways) and yet again grappling with timetables and possibly homeless men. Why is this? It is, of course, because I get to spend the weekend with my Mr :). I have found myself getting more and more open (ooer) and confident. This is because Adam is by far the sexiest man I've ever slept with - I know this because a) it is obvious and b) as Mazi loves to constantly remind me, my line up of ex-boyfriends, stemming from clumsy 15 year old fumbles to what a 16 year old would call 'the real thing', wouldn't look at all out of place in the cast list of another Wrong Turn or Hills Have Eyes movie.
That is probably something I should find depressing, and yes, the thoughts of some of them make me want to shove a double-barreled shotgun in to my mouth and pull the trigger, and as cheesy and crap as the saying is: 'You've gotta kiss a few frogs to find your prince.' Of course, in my case it was kissing a few hogs, snakes, hippos and rats. Yummeh. But yeah - I just hope the bruising on my cheek goes down before I get home. A bruised cheek? Well, a drunken, rejected man has a wide swing. Poor bloke chose the wrong victim - there's a likelihood he also won't be able to have children anymore. The entertaining exchange went as follows:
*Leah is dancing with Abi, Laura and Hayley in a club to celebrate Laura's birthday. Leah downed an entire bottle of jager and schnapps just before exiting the flat and having not eaten all day, she was a little drunk*
*A man, tall, weedy with glasses and a fat face comes over, and begins to attempt to grind dance with Leah*
*Leah moves her arse out of the way of Anus's (the man) 'crotch'*
*Man puts 'crotch' back*
*Leah moves again*
*repeat several times*
*Leah eventually gets pissed off and turns to face Anus*
Leah: Dude! Can you NOT take a hint!? Get the fuck away from me!
Anus: Mmmmm! You're wearing a green bra! Nice!
Leah: Face is up here, where my angry words are currently exiting. Stop staring at what you can't have
Anus: And why the hell can I not have it? Look, let me get you a drink and we can discuss this further
Leah: Or not. For one, you are hideous, 2, I have a long-term boyfriend and 3, you are hideous
Anus: How the hell can a slut like you have a boyfriend? Stop bullshitting and get your arse over here.
Leah: NO! Fuck off! I don't answer to anyone! Get the hell away from me - I've said no, so go dribble on someone else's shoulder!
*Anus smacks Leah round the face*
Leah: ahaha. Nice. By the way - you picked the wrong person to punch tonight
*Leah brings her knee up in to the Anus's 'crotch' with all the force she has*
*Anus doubles over, and the bouncers swiftly come over and eject him from the club*
The End.
The combined stress of house hunting, the random (technically) attack, money issues, job hunting and back problems saw me take another trip to the doctor - the stress having caused a hideous amount of what look like hives to break out all over my arms, hands, face and neck. So, having been put on yet more medication and having physically broken down in to a sobbing wreck in the middle of a lecture, I fled to Jade's. A night of laughs and a few cheeky texts with Adam and I've perked up so much.
I need to go home though. I'm ready to forget everything here, even just for a weekend. And I need sleep - I've been working out double time in the last 2 weeks and it's beginning to show. But it also means I need to keep on top of my sleep. So this is goodbye for a few days - when I come back, I no doubt will feel even better ^____________________^
I find myself very much looking forward to stampeding through endless train stations tomorrow, carrying an A3 acrylic portrait of Simba from The Lion King (that I painted myself of course. I'm gonna have to put a picture of it on here at some point. The only thing I've ever painted that's better than this was my demon March Hare. Which I'm also going to put a picture of on here. Anyways) and yet again grappling with timetables and possibly homeless men. Why is this? It is, of course, because I get to spend the weekend with my Mr :). I have found myself getting more and more open (ooer) and confident. This is because Adam is by far the sexiest man I've ever slept with - I know this because a) it is obvious and b) as Mazi loves to constantly remind me, my line up of ex-boyfriends, stemming from clumsy 15 year old fumbles to what a 16 year old would call 'the real thing', wouldn't look at all out of place in the cast list of another Wrong Turn or Hills Have Eyes movie.
That is probably something I should find depressing, and yes, the thoughts of some of them make me want to shove a double-barreled shotgun in to my mouth and pull the trigger, and as cheesy and crap as the saying is: 'You've gotta kiss a few frogs to find your prince.' Of course, in my case it was kissing a few hogs, snakes, hippos and rats. Yummeh. But yeah - I just hope the bruising on my cheek goes down before I get home. A bruised cheek? Well, a drunken, rejected man has a wide swing. Poor bloke chose the wrong victim - there's a likelihood he also won't be able to have children anymore. The entertaining exchange went as follows:
*Leah is dancing with Abi, Laura and Hayley in a club to celebrate Laura's birthday. Leah downed an entire bottle of jager and schnapps just before exiting the flat and having not eaten all day, she was a little drunk*
*A man, tall, weedy with glasses and a fat face comes over, and begins to attempt to grind dance with Leah*
*Leah moves her arse out of the way of Anus's (the man) 'crotch'*
*Man puts 'crotch' back*
*Leah moves again*
*repeat several times*
*Leah eventually gets pissed off and turns to face Anus*
Leah: Dude! Can you NOT take a hint!? Get the fuck away from me!
Anus: Mmmmm! You're wearing a green bra! Nice!
Leah: Face is up here, where my angry words are currently exiting. Stop staring at what you can't have
Anus: And why the hell can I not have it? Look, let me get you a drink and we can discuss this further
Leah: Or not. For one, you are hideous, 2, I have a long-term boyfriend and 3, you are hideous
Anus: How the hell can a slut like you have a boyfriend? Stop bullshitting and get your arse over here.
Leah: NO! Fuck off! I don't answer to anyone! Get the hell away from me - I've said no, so go dribble on someone else's shoulder!
*Anus smacks Leah round the face*
Leah: ahaha. Nice. By the way - you picked the wrong person to punch tonight
*Leah brings her knee up in to the Anus's 'crotch' with all the force she has*
*Anus doubles over, and the bouncers swiftly come over and eject him from the club*
The End.
The combined stress of house hunting, the random (technically) attack, money issues, job hunting and back problems saw me take another trip to the doctor - the stress having caused a hideous amount of what look like hives to break out all over my arms, hands, face and neck. So, having been put on yet more medication and having physically broken down in to a sobbing wreck in the middle of a lecture, I fled to Jade's. A night of laughs and a few cheeky texts with Adam and I've perked up so much.
I need to go home though. I'm ready to forget everything here, even just for a weekend. And I need sleep - I've been working out double time in the last 2 weeks and it's beginning to show. But it also means I need to keep on top of my sleep. So this is goodbye for a few days - when I come back, I no doubt will feel even better ^____________________^
Sunday 6 February 2011
Filmage
Sooooo I couldn't wait, and so I set up an entirely different blog for movie reviews. Hopefully this blog will cater to more people (though I do love you all for reading this one). This blog WILL be continued, so if you enjoy reading about me cocking up all the time then you won't be disappointed.
Please, tell all your friends! You can find it here, at:
popcornandpisstakes.blogspot.com
Thanks guys and Enjoy!
^__________________^
Please, tell all your friends! You can find it here, at:
popcornandpisstakes.blogspot.com
Thanks guys and Enjoy!
^__________________^
Dwing Dwing Dwing DWING DWING DWING Etc
If you can guess the uber famous horror film that is from, I will give you much praise and such. Let's just say, that this horror film is a classic, and although it doesn't measure up to horror films today as far as visual effects and "ARGH!" factor, this film, and this famous scene in particular really puts me on edge. Remember, horror films don't scare me. I can't do it - of course, I'm talking about Psycho, the 1960 Hitchcock masterpiece containing one of the most famous scenes in cinema history. A younger, less wise me would have said 'oh, but this film is shit, because you can't see anything blah blah blah' much as I did with the Exorcist (and still do. That film really is just plain awful). Now I can really see the film for what it is - it's imagery, especially in the shower scene, is amazing and makes us believe that a murder is taking place without actualy showing knife-to-skin contact. You really feel for the vitim, as she is in a position that makes her much more vulnerable than if she was just walking down the street. That scene really does put you on edge, and I must admit to looking over my shoulder occassionally wle showering now. It is, quite simply, a masterpiece, and will remain so for many more years to come - come on, it's already lasted over 50 and still ranks as one of the publics scariest horror films of all time, falling 3rd to The Exorcist in 2nd place, with The Shining taking the lead.
Those stats at the end are things I just know. Please don't ask me how. I have not researched these films or anything at all. I am a horror junkie, and as Sallie said today, I need to watch chick flicks. They have no appeal to me - so predictable and mushy. This is more ammo in the 'I was born the wrong sex' argument. Don't get me wrong, I don't WANT to be a man, I just act very boyish all the time and I always have. Plus, if I ever changed sex (god forbid) Adam is the most un-gay man ever so I'd be single again and that would suck.
Maybe that isn't because of Psycho though,the whole looking over the shoulder thing, maybe it's because friday morning I was sound asleep, it was about 10 when I heard a smash IN MY BATHROOM. I lock my door at night. So, I scream and alert the maintainence man that had let himself in my room to take my shower head, which he took. Smashing a glass and leaving the light on and my bedroom door unlocked in the process. Dude, if the door is locked and I am in here, then I LOCK MYSELF IN AT NIGHT! This isn't really a safety thing. It's more so Amani doesn't sneak in and steal everything I own of value (amount = not a lot). I spent the weekend working out, and watching horror movies. He then came crashing back in 2 hours later, waking me up AGAIN and complaining that I was still in bed. Um, fuck off. Thanks.
Another mini film review now (The Psycho one was waaay too fun) and we move on to REsident Evil Extinction, the 3rd in the Resident Evil 'films' that I have put off watching for ages simply because I don't like the casting for Claire Redfield. Ali Larter - fuck off. You are not Claire. I love resident Evil, as you well know, and I am not a fan of the movies because, even though they attempt to stay true to the original series, they don't quite hit all the buttons and so their attempts seem pathetic and wasted. ALthough, overall, as a plain zombie film, they wouldn't be too bad. They stay true to many of the unwritten rules for film zombies and provide some gripping action sequences with amazing effects. The only real flaw is that it has the Resident Evil label attached to it. Take it away and you have a watchable zombie film. I felt this until they killed off my fave character played by the yummy Oded Fehr in a REALLY shit way that I turned off and refused to watch the rest for 2 hours.
I'm going to watch REC. now, the Spanish original to the English film 'Quarentine'. I may start doing some mini film reviews every so often, they're fun ^^ If you think this is a bad idea, please comment in the box. I will probably do it anyway even if you said it was a bad idea, but feel free to feedback none the less XD
Those stats at the end are things I just know. Please don't ask me how. I have not researched these films or anything at all. I am a horror junkie, and as Sallie said today, I need to watch chick flicks. They have no appeal to me - so predictable and mushy. This is more ammo in the 'I was born the wrong sex' argument. Don't get me wrong, I don't WANT to be a man, I just act very boyish all the time and I always have. Plus, if I ever changed sex (god forbid) Adam is the most un-gay man ever so I'd be single again and that would suck.
Maybe that isn't because of Psycho though,the whole looking over the shoulder thing, maybe it's because friday morning I was sound asleep, it was about 10 when I heard a smash IN MY BATHROOM. I lock my door at night. So, I scream and alert the maintainence man that had let himself in my room to take my shower head, which he took. Smashing a glass and leaving the light on and my bedroom door unlocked in the process. Dude, if the door is locked and I am in here, then I LOCK MYSELF IN AT NIGHT! This isn't really a safety thing. It's more so Amani doesn't sneak in and steal everything I own of value (amount = not a lot). I spent the weekend working out, and watching horror movies. He then came crashing back in 2 hours later, waking me up AGAIN and complaining that I was still in bed. Um, fuck off. Thanks.
Another mini film review now (The Psycho one was waaay too fun) and we move on to REsident Evil Extinction, the 3rd in the Resident Evil 'films' that I have put off watching for ages simply because I don't like the casting for Claire Redfield. Ali Larter - fuck off. You are not Claire. I love resident Evil, as you well know, and I am not a fan of the movies because, even though they attempt to stay true to the original series, they don't quite hit all the buttons and so their attempts seem pathetic and wasted. ALthough, overall, as a plain zombie film, they wouldn't be too bad. They stay true to many of the unwritten rules for film zombies and provide some gripping action sequences with amazing effects. The only real flaw is that it has the Resident Evil label attached to it. Take it away and you have a watchable zombie film. I felt this until they killed off my fave character played by the yummy Oded Fehr in a REALLY shit way that I turned off and refused to watch the rest for 2 hours.
I'm going to watch REC. now, the Spanish original to the English film 'Quarentine'. I may start doing some mini film reviews every so often, they're fun ^^ If you think this is a bad idea, please comment in the box. I will probably do it anyway even if you said it was a bad idea, but feel free to feedback none the less XD
Thursday 3 February 2011
The Hills Are Alive, With The Sounds Of 'AAAAAAAAARGHHHHHH!!!!!!'
Well, here he is in all his glory! My 3rd tattoo! I love this one the most. And so - I had to trekk PAST Salamander in order to get some cash, battling Big Issue bokes left right and centre. Jade rang arranging to meet in a different place, but unfotunately that call wasn't long enough to take me past him. Don't get me wrong, I'm no Scrooge. I usually buy the Big Issue, but on this particular day I would rather spend all the money that I haven't got on having an owl forever drawn on my skin than help a homeless man buy food. Hush. Its quite unnerving when you arrive for your tattoo appointment and have to loitre out in the rain for 10 minutes because your tattooist is having a good ol' chin wag with the old Bill O_O.
I want my naffing tattoo! But as you can see, it is there and the line work is perfect ^_^ He'd been going for half an hour (corrrr!) and I was sat there thinking, and wincing of course, 'Oooh, he must be almost done by now XD' ...."Right, I'll start on the actual owl now!" What the hell?!? And Jesus, did his head hurt (bahahaha! I'm full of it today. Ooops, there's another one and no- *SMACK*) the closer he got to my neck, the more I wanted to scream. The owl is ever so sexy though. Pottered around town at high speed after getting chips at Wetherspoons to get our strength up (Jade had a cheeky one done too) to get crisps, cock porn and sweeties and a cheap horror film for a girly night in. This is the title.
We LOVE the remake of The Hills Have Eyes. I bought the original, which is possibly one of the funniest horror movies ever made - at one point, one of the blokes that we were meant to like (you know, one of the family the weirdos were trying to eat) was running dramatically over rocks and desert. This was made in to a hysterical image when I listened closely to the music. It was basically the theme to Captain Planet. RETROOOOOOOOOOOOO :)
Mega enjoyed uni - youth crime appears to be my fortay, so I don't know if I should be worried about that or not. Wandered in to town at about 9 to hand in CVs to clubs. Yay at possible night shifts ¬¬. I got in only to instantly receive a text from my Daddy, who was stood outside my door ^^ I love my Daddy. He lives in Scottland now, having officially sold his Derbyshire home (bastard :P) but popped down to go to the dentist (poor bloke) and stopped by. Spent most of the time discussing Christian, my youngest brother and who is the only one of the 3 of us who is not on the straight and narrow. I managed to tell him many things that had been bothering me. It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him that I've found Kevin, but yet again, I couldn't do it. Adam will be pissed off with me ahaha. I can't do it. I'm not strong enough.
God, that bit was depressing. Now, to end on a high... Hmmm... While handing in a CV at th cinema, I turned, gave my thanks, and promptly tripped over my boots and fell on my arse. Yes, I am hirable. PLEASE!
Tuesday 1 February 2011
Bitch Tits
I gain more credibility in the lesbian stakes every day don't I? Fucking retard... Speaking of fucking retards, as I staggered to Nunnery Court this morning, practically holding my head under my arm I was that hungover, I saw what became the best hangover cure ever. A man in a red ford escort (possibly one of the only car types I know) straightened himself up infront of a CLOSED garage door. He then proceeded to reverse in to said closed door. 3 Times. At no point did he attempt to OPEN the fucking closed door. Who does that?
But yes - last night was Phil's night of birthday celebrations. I was smashed before we left the flat (I have Never. Fucking game...) but carried on drinking. Found Alex in Mosh and had a big of a boogie, before leaving at half 2 (I have never Mosh before it's closed before. I'm losing my touch a little). I also discovered why I only wore my prom shoes at prom. The bastards ripped my feet open. I practically orgasmed when I finally took them off when we got outside. Orgasm ever so quickly subsided when I trod on broken glass.
O_____________________________O
I got in with black feet, to be swiftly joined by Lissi, who was also pissed ad began rolling on the floor yelling about chinese food and 'whipping her hair back and forth'. LOL just doesn't quite cover it. I got it all lovingly on video. I didn't sleep - I passed out. I woke up in exactly the same position I'd fallen asleep in. Normally, I thrash around (obviously whipping my hair back and forth, of course) but no, Eventually pulled my head from the pillow, late, and literally scraped hair back and wiped off last nights makeup. Obviously I put clothes on. Alex had time to preen himself to perfection, and seemed fine until we got to uni - it was then that the lack of sleep hit us both. He became a grumpy asshole (:P) and I became hysterical, repeating 'Then she put her hand around me waist' in a Jamacian accent (just go and listen to Tae Armo or whatever the fuck it is by Rhianna) and 'Mr Boombastic, SEMI FANTASTIC!' in a raggae accent - it was then that Emily roared with laughter and told me that my 9 year old self got the lyrics wrong.
Today was fun. We were all shattered, but we were still laughing hysterically every5 minutes or so. I'm getting back in to the swing of things again and have got over my little angsty moment. This may be because I'm going home on the 11th to celebrate my first ever Valentine's Day WITH someone! I know, right? How has someone like ME been single all this time? PFFT. Get real. I'm soooo happy though XD XD
But yes - last night was Phil's night of birthday celebrations. I was smashed before we left the flat (I have Never. Fucking game...) but carried on drinking. Found Alex in Mosh and had a big of a boogie, before leaving at half 2 (I have never Mosh before it's closed before. I'm losing my touch a little). I also discovered why I only wore my prom shoes at prom. The bastards ripped my feet open. I practically orgasmed when I finally took them off when we got outside. Orgasm ever so quickly subsided when I trod on broken glass.
O_____________________________O
I got in with black feet, to be swiftly joined by Lissi, who was also pissed ad began rolling on the floor yelling about chinese food and 'whipping her hair back and forth'. LOL just doesn't quite cover it. I got it all lovingly on video. I didn't sleep - I passed out. I woke up in exactly the same position I'd fallen asleep in. Normally, I thrash around (obviously whipping my hair back and forth, of course) but no, Eventually pulled my head from the pillow, late, and literally scraped hair back and wiped off last nights makeup. Obviously I put clothes on. Alex had time to preen himself to perfection, and seemed fine until we got to uni - it was then that the lack of sleep hit us both. He became a grumpy asshole (:P) and I became hysterical, repeating 'Then she put her hand around me waist' in a Jamacian accent (just go and listen to Tae Armo or whatever the fuck it is by Rhianna) and 'Mr Boombastic, SEMI FANTASTIC!' in a raggae accent - it was then that Emily roared with laughter and told me that my 9 year old self got the lyrics wrong.
Today was fun. We were all shattered, but we were still laughing hysterically every5 minutes or so. I'm getting back in to the swing of things again and have got over my little angsty moment. This may be because I'm going home on the 11th to celebrate my first ever Valentine's Day WITH someone! I know, right? How has someone like ME been single all this time? PFFT. Get real. I'm soooo happy though XD XD
Monday 31 January 2011
VAGINA!
No, I haven't suddenly turned in to a lesbian, it is bellowed in an angry black man sort of way, and is a quote. LOL
Also - The PageMaster "AM FANNASIE!" Is bloody hilarious.
As promised, here is a recent pic of yours truely, on the way to Hartington Hall (it was very windy outside.) Note the hair all over face in the form of a fringe and the overall purpleness of the colour.
I am getting another tattoo on Wednesday. On my shoulder blade. What is it? An owl ^_^ Pictures to follow, obviously. Typical me though - "oh I have no money and no job (Don't even fucking get me started) but oooh! £30 tattoo!"
That rhymed. Win! XD
Thursday 27 January 2011
Oh How I Love Being On Top ;)
Yes, I do like being on top... of a bunk bed. Ha at you! Dirty, dirty people!
So yeah. I actually almost didn't want to come back to uni. At all. This was confirmed on the morning of the 23rd Jan, when I had to say goodbye to Adam for the last time in about 2 months. For about 2 months. Holy Christ I cried so much... Got in to the flat (after hilarities at Jadey's and stuffs) my mum left, crying of course and setting me off, and so I spent about an hour just sobbing in to Derek :(
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ EMO ANGST SECTION^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Ahhhh, emo angst section over. So yes - I'm going to miss Adam rather a lot while I am here, but I guess it makes me look forward to seeing him again even more than usual. The worst bit? I have gone from having sex almost every day, several times a day for the past month or so to practically becoming a nun. Fuck me. (please. oh GOD PLEASE!!!!!!) We all became civilisation nuns come Wednesday - Course trip to Hartington Hall, to play what was basically a big game of Cluedo.
I believe in a previous blog I mentioned that I would be stuck with that bitch that I don't like AT ALL? Well, I should have my own show - she was in my fucking team. But, as team leader who was voted in due to my capability to win every competition I have entered since uni started, I got to tell her what to do. Not that that mattered to her though - essentially, when we reached the crime scene she just flipped me the V and fucked off.
It was SO fun! REally. The lack of signal was good in a way, as no one got distracted, but MY GOD did I miss Adam. And so - Mr man has been stabbed and found unconscious. Our job was to search the crime scene for clues and I got to boss actual police officers around ^_^ Hours of sitting around later (and making an AMAZING balloon model of the Hoff) we ate what was meant to be food. It hit 6pm, and we started drinking. It was the only thing to do that didn't make us all want to rip off our own skin just so we had something to do. We weren't as bad as the lecturers - they started drinking at 4. How responsible. I know we're adults, but you are meant to be looking after us!
At 8 most of us could be found rammed in to the smallest game room pissed out of our brains or at least getting there. Time for a quiz! General knowledge (having failed EPICALLY at the forensics quiz. We aren't doing forensics, thank Christ.) but still came second. Long story short we won - 99/100 isn't a bad score methinks.
And of course, on the second day, after all our initial evidence had been thrown away by the fucking cleaners, we were the only team to collect all the evidence sheets and guess the murderer correctly. We won. Again. I am awesome. But this post is not.
So yeah. I actually almost didn't want to come back to uni. At all. This was confirmed on the morning of the 23rd Jan, when I had to say goodbye to Adam for the last time in about 2 months. For about 2 months. Holy Christ I cried so much... Got in to the flat (after hilarities at Jadey's and stuffs) my mum left, crying of course and setting me off, and so I spent about an hour just sobbing in to Derek :(
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ EMO ANGST SECTION^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Ahhhh, emo angst section over. So yes - I'm going to miss Adam rather a lot while I am here, but I guess it makes me look forward to seeing him again even more than usual. The worst bit? I have gone from having sex almost every day, several times a day for the past month or so to practically becoming a nun. Fuck me. (please. oh GOD PLEASE!!!!!!) We all became civilisation nuns come Wednesday - Course trip to Hartington Hall, to play what was basically a big game of Cluedo.
I believe in a previous blog I mentioned that I would be stuck with that bitch that I don't like AT ALL? Well, I should have my own show - she was in my fucking team. But, as team leader who was voted in due to my capability to win every competition I have entered since uni started, I got to tell her what to do. Not that that mattered to her though - essentially, when we reached the crime scene she just flipped me the V and fucked off.
It was SO fun! REally. The lack of signal was good in a way, as no one got distracted, but MY GOD did I miss Adam. And so - Mr man has been stabbed and found unconscious. Our job was to search the crime scene for clues and I got to boss actual police officers around ^_^ Hours of sitting around later (and making an AMAZING balloon model of the Hoff) we ate what was meant to be food. It hit 6pm, and we started drinking. It was the only thing to do that didn't make us all want to rip off our own skin just so we had something to do. We weren't as bad as the lecturers - they started drinking at 4. How responsible. I know we're adults, but you are meant to be looking after us!
At 8 most of us could be found rammed in to the smallest game room pissed out of our brains or at least getting there. Time for a quiz! General knowledge (having failed EPICALLY at the forensics quiz. We aren't doing forensics, thank Christ.) but still came second. Long story short we won - 99/100 isn't a bad score methinks.
And of course, on the second day, after all our initial evidence had been thrown away by the fucking cleaners, we were the only team to collect all the evidence sheets and guess the murderer correctly. We won. Again. I am awesome. But this post is not.
Tuesday 18 January 2011
Over Haulin' My Ass Off.
That I am. Soon to follow will be picatoors of meine neues hair colour, as well as my new hair cut, complete with its fringey goodness. Yes, I have a fringe again. I haven't had a fringe since I cut all my hair off (well, bobbed it) in year 9, so it has been a while.
Also, have purchased a fitness DVD and will be joining the gym. "But why?!" I hear the masses cry! Well, It is because I is a wobbly fat fuck teeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeebh. Did some of the good ol' fitness DVD earlier and spent most of my time on the floor trying to catch my breath. No, it wasn't a particularly difficult work out, it was due to the fact that the man leadin the routine was actually the campest man on the planet. My mum was rolling on the floor with me (Holy fuck that sounded better in my head). Laughing, that is. Oh please.
It is a good thing I am doing all this too - I sat down on the sofa in the den earlier and broke part of the wooden frame O_O. Sweet Jesus, I've actually broken a piece of furniture with my arse. The prospect of using running equipment is horrifying as running is sooooo painful for me. Care to guess? I'll give you a hint (or, the answer in other words) - my boobs. All 38GG of them. There is no sports bra big enough. FML.
I now have a grand total of 5 Blue nose animals. I am addicted. They are so FUCKING CUTE! Adam says I can be sweet when I want to be - give me a kitten or a puppy or something, and I actually act like my sex for once. It's true.
Aaaand to end yet another 'Fuck, it's 2 in the morning and I start work at 9 shit shit shit!' shitty post, a story:
A while back, Jadey and I went through a phase of loving Diddy Dick and Dom (you know, who live in the cupboard. They've lived there all their lives and never been discovered? Oh, forget it.) The best moment? Dick screaming "It's CLEANSING MILK!". This caused us to say it constantly. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAanyways. I was sat in the doctor's waiting room the other day, happily not watching the TV as it is CBBC and I is mature and that :P I was occasionally tutting and rolling my eyes to show my maturity. That is, until Diddy Dick and Dom came on. I turned to watch it. The first episode? CLEANSING MILK! There was so much noise in the waiting room caused my myself roaring with laughter, that I could actually feel the atmosphere in the room shift ever so slightly when I was thankfully called for my appointment a mere minute later. And everyone else lived happily ever after, whereas I looked like a twat.
:)
Also, have purchased a fitness DVD and will be joining the gym. "But why?!" I hear the masses cry! Well, It is because I is a wobbly fat fuck teeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeebh. Did some of the good ol' fitness DVD earlier and spent most of my time on the floor trying to catch my breath. No, it wasn't a particularly difficult work out, it was due to the fact that the man leadin the routine was actually the campest man on the planet. My mum was rolling on the floor with me (Holy fuck that sounded better in my head). Laughing, that is. Oh please.
It is a good thing I am doing all this too - I sat down on the sofa in the den earlier and broke part of the wooden frame O_O. Sweet Jesus, I've actually broken a piece of furniture with my arse. The prospect of using running equipment is horrifying as running is sooooo painful for me. Care to guess? I'll give you a hint (or, the answer in other words) - my boobs. All 38GG of them. There is no sports bra big enough. FML.
I now have a grand total of 5 Blue nose animals. I am addicted. They are so FUCKING CUTE! Adam says I can be sweet when I want to be - give me a kitten or a puppy or something, and I actually act like my sex for once. It's true.
Aaaand to end yet another 'Fuck, it's 2 in the morning and I start work at 9 shit shit shit!' shitty post, a story:
A while back, Jadey and I went through a phase of loving Diddy Dick and Dom (you know, who live in the cupboard. They've lived there all their lives and never been discovered? Oh, forget it.) The best moment? Dick screaming "It's CLEANSING MILK!". This caused us to say it constantly. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAanyways. I was sat in the doctor's waiting room the other day, happily not watching the TV as it is CBBC and I is mature and that :P I was occasionally tutting and rolling my eyes to show my maturity. That is, until Diddy Dick and Dom came on. I turned to watch it. The first episode? CLEANSING MILK! There was so much noise in the waiting room caused my myself roaring with laughter, that I could actually feel the atmosphere in the room shift ever so slightly when I was thankfully called for my appointment a mere minute later. And everyone else lived happily ever after, whereas I looked like a twat.
:)
Saturday 15 January 2011
I Come From Ethiopia.
I don't really, but goddamn I'm eating loads lately. I am Starvin' Marvin, and I found an actual Shake Weight today. I am living in South Park.
I ran screaming from the house in nothing but a towel on wednesday, taking the time to grab my handbag and car keys. Why is this? Well, when you are showering and you are home alone, and you watch the bathroom door unlock and open by itself, it can be a little un nerving. Just a little. To cheer myself up I bought myself a new Ipod Nano. It's sexy as sexy can be - just like its owner ;)
Erm. I have purrrrrple hair now. I fancied a change, and I haven't had purple hair since I was 12, the first time I dyed my hair actually. Yeah. The first colour I chose was purple. Brave move.
And so, I'm feeling generous - if you are one of the first 5 people to comment on this rather pathetic 'post' if you can call it that, I will make or get you something nice and that, and do some sending stuffs for you. In short - comments will be rewarded with gifts. Have I reached new lows to get comments? Nah - I'm a nice person ^__________________^
I ran screaming from the house in nothing but a towel on wednesday, taking the time to grab my handbag and car keys. Why is this? Well, when you are showering and you are home alone, and you watch the bathroom door unlock and open by itself, it can be a little un nerving. Just a little. To cheer myself up I bought myself a new Ipod Nano. It's sexy as sexy can be - just like its owner ;)
Erm. I have purrrrrple hair now. I fancied a change, and I haven't had purple hair since I was 12, the first time I dyed my hair actually. Yeah. The first colour I chose was purple. Brave move.
And so, I'm feeling generous - if you are one of the first 5 people to comment on this rather pathetic 'post' if you can call it that, I will make or get you something nice and that, and do some sending stuffs for you. In short - comments will be rewarded with gifts. Have I reached new lows to get comments? Nah - I'm a nice person ^__________________^
Wednesday 12 January 2011
Here Comes Ali Babarrr and his FUCKING CAMEL!
I am now 19. Isn't that awesome? I now feel I can enjoy being legally allowed to buy alcohol and the like without thinking myself to be 'new meat' or have only just got my foot in the door. Nope, now I have shut the door behind me. I know that one day the day will come when I will be so far away from the door, I won't have left the house for weeks (probably due to the horror-filled thoughts associated with people seeing my withered old face.) I digress. I originally wrote 'digest'. Why have I been eating LOADS lately? No, I am not pregnant. Even if the implant somehow cocked itself up and left me unprotected, my panic attack when the never-ending period actually stopped that caused me to leave the house immediately and purchase 3 different pregnancy tests has proved beyond a doubt that I am not with child. I'm bloody broody though, for fucks sake. I keep dreaming about having this beautiful little girl, called Evie. Oh she is lovely. But no, Leah! 19! University student! No babies for you yet! And I usually fucking hate kids (notice the careful choice of word order there :P)
Turning 19 wasn't fun until I had completed my chuffing exam on the 10th, the day before. This mleft me having to drive all the way back to Derby sunday night. Brilliant. After work. Even better. My complaints were immediately halted when I ended my shift and Adam eventually finished his - he'd swapped his shift on monday so he could come with me! ^^ Thank fuck he did, as a diversion caused me to get hopelessly lost and travelling away from Derby. Bollocks. Had he not been there, I had visions of myself on monday morning, out of petrol by the side of some never-ending road, ringing uni to tell them to shove there test where the sun doesn't shine. It took us 4 FUCKING HOURS to do a hour and a half trip. I still can't bend my right leg properly yet.
The exam itself went as well as it could have done for someone who did jack shit in terms of frevision. Everyone's cries of "Leah! You look really different!" startled me a bit - I haven't worn makeup in weeks due to ongoing eye issues due to Adam's sodding cats and my huge allergies to them. That is why I looked different. T_T But yeah, after bothering Jade and Gracey for a bit (And entering the Ducking Hardcore Mix. I also brought the man around, as promised lmao) we set off home. In Newark my "Jesus, I'll have to pull over soon, I can feel my eyelids going" was totally justified when I smashed in to the curb. ¬_¬
I like lillies. Adam got me a bunch of them for me buffdee. And a massive owl cuddley toy, whom I have named Derek, as well as several of the CUTEST little 'Blue Nose' animals. We went to the seaside for the day. It was completely empty, as everyone else was sensible and didn't go to the seaside in the middle of Januray. When it's raining. Prat-head that I am "Ooooft! I wanna go SEASIDEEEE!!!!" for god's sake - took shelter in the arcades and won a loads of stuffs on the 2p machines. Put £3 in, won £9 back. I'm good ^_^
Buffet and indoor fireworks back homeeeee - video footage to follow. Naturally I have a glass of wine in my hand in every shot. Mini sparklers caused us all to panic and for me to drop it on my foot O_O and G actually burned a hole in his top with the big finale firework. LMAO!
You hear horror stories of parents entering the room during sex don't you? I have no chances of that happening, which is brill. However, the sound of G letting the dogs out will make me laugh no end, and it gets even better when your Grandmother rings during. My attempt to make her stop talking about her bowels failed - "I have to go, my boyfriend is over and I er-" "OH DEAR! OHHHHHHHHHH DEARRRRRRRRRRR I am SORREHHHH *talks about bowels some more*" Shut it bitch.
Adam talks in his sleep. Without fail, every night. My favourite conversation is as follows:
Adam: Leah?
Leah: Yes, sweets?
Adam: I don't like that man.
Leah: What man?
Adam: The man on tv!
Leah: ... We're not watching tv
Adam: Oh, go FUCK yourself then!
Later that night he randomly screamed at the top of his lungs, shoved me to one side, laughed, then muttered something about a dog. I... er....
I dunno. I'm all over the shop. It's late, I'm tired, but I daren't go through the living room again. Meep!
Turning 19 wasn't fun until I had completed my chuffing exam on the 10th, the day before. This mleft me having to drive all the way back to Derby sunday night. Brilliant. After work. Even better. My complaints were immediately halted when I ended my shift and Adam eventually finished his - he'd swapped his shift on monday so he could come with me! ^^ Thank fuck he did, as a diversion caused me to get hopelessly lost and travelling away from Derby. Bollocks. Had he not been there, I had visions of myself on monday morning, out of petrol by the side of some never-ending road, ringing uni to tell them to shove there test where the sun doesn't shine. It took us 4 FUCKING HOURS to do a hour and a half trip. I still can't bend my right leg properly yet.
The exam itself went as well as it could have done for someone who did jack shit in terms of frevision. Everyone's cries of "Leah! You look really different!" startled me a bit - I haven't worn makeup in weeks due to ongoing eye issues due to Adam's sodding cats and my huge allergies to them. That is why I looked different. T_T But yeah, after bothering Jade and Gracey for a bit (And entering the Ducking Hardcore Mix. I also brought the man around, as promised lmao) we set off home. In Newark my "Jesus, I'll have to pull over soon, I can feel my eyelids going" was totally justified when I smashed in to the curb. ¬_¬
I like lillies. Adam got me a bunch of them for me buffdee. And a massive owl cuddley toy, whom I have named Derek, as well as several of the CUTEST little 'Blue Nose' animals. We went to the seaside for the day. It was completely empty, as everyone else was sensible and didn't go to the seaside in the middle of Januray. When it's raining. Prat-head that I am "Ooooft! I wanna go SEASIDEEEE!!!!" for god's sake - took shelter in the arcades and won a loads of stuffs on the 2p machines. Put £3 in, won £9 back. I'm good ^_^
Buffet and indoor fireworks back homeeeee - video footage to follow. Naturally I have a glass of wine in my hand in every shot. Mini sparklers caused us all to panic and for me to drop it on my foot O_O and G actually burned a hole in his top with the big finale firework. LMAO!
You hear horror stories of parents entering the room during sex don't you? I have no chances of that happening, which is brill. However, the sound of G letting the dogs out will make me laugh no end, and it gets even better when your Grandmother rings during. My attempt to make her stop talking about her bowels failed - "I have to go, my boyfriend is over and I er-" "OH DEAR! OHHHHHHHHHH DEARRRRRRRRRRR I am SORREHHHH *talks about bowels some more*" Shut it bitch.
Adam talks in his sleep. Without fail, every night. My favourite conversation is as follows:
Adam: Leah?
Leah: Yes, sweets?
Adam: I don't like that man.
Leah: What man?
Adam: The man on tv!
Leah: ... We're not watching tv
Adam: Oh, go FUCK yourself then!
Later that night he randomly screamed at the top of his lungs, shoved me to one side, laughed, then muttered something about a dog. I... er....
I dunno. I'm all over the shop. It's late, I'm tired, but I daren't go through the living room again. Meep!
Monday 3 January 2011
Ahaha, Woops...
Yeah.
I missed the normality of a 'OH Em GEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! IT was Christmas and now it's over and going to be a whole new year and that!' - type post, basically outlining that I stuffed my fat face for a few days then got insanely drunk and lost at a New Years Eve party. Or something similar. It's me. Jesus. (Notice that it is a full stop and not a comma. No, I have not just admitted I am the Son Of God. This is because God does not exist, so how could I be his son? Also, my lack of penis would prove the son part to be extremely difficult.)
But no, there has been good reasonings for no regular postings as of late. I know that as soon as I go back to uni (in 3 weeks), the posts will return to being daily occurances. But, for now, as I sit in a darkened room in my blatantly haunted house, possibly with a ghosty peeking over my shoulder (which I hate. Fuck off and read something else!), I shall take the time to explain and reflect on what I have been up to lately, and through the year as a whole.
I intended to post on Christmas Day, and even started writing it. I then got so drunk (so much so that I fell down the stairs. ¬_¬~) and started enjoying watching my Jackass DVDs too much, so the blog post got abandoned. The Jackass thing? Mazi got me the boxset for Crimby. My family had the choice of watching several family suitable movies, like Toy Story 3, for example. What do we choose? Jackass. That is my household. Ah well. Since then I have basically been living at Adam's, only taking breaks to go to work under the control of a vicious COCKHEAD who's more Bi-polar than the North and South Poles (Geddit?! Oh, naff off then.) I'm 'Princess Leia' one minute - Leia, not Leah, so this doesn't work, and then 'silly bitch' or something similar the next. Fuck you, with your cheesy OTT "OHHHHHHHHHHHH! Your own Hans Solo is in the kitcheeeeeeeeeeeeennnnnn!!" ("Let me just go and yell at him for fuck all reason, sending him in to a horrific bad mood that I will then blame on you and make you cry and want to stab me in the eye repeatedly with a particalarly sharp chip.")
KFC is back in my life, Oh glee, and is full of new workers who won't talk to me. At all. Fuck you. I was there first - people know and like me. They are mostly foreign, and have NO MANNERS! One of them is so rude and arrogant it is unreal. She's the kind of person that makes me want to purposely wrap my car around a tree to avoid having to interact with them. I greeted her with a 'hello' one morning, I recieved a sneer and a 'hmph!' headtoss kinda thing in return. She didn't hear my "I do hope I get the opportunity to slam your head in to a wall today! :)" Well, either that or she didn't understand me.
I spent new years at Adam's, and will have some lovely video footage to share with you soon. We had intended on spending the night in. After getting pissed by 6 pm (I as drinking wine and cider, and hadn't eaten in about 3 days. Have mercy with your slatings) we arsed around for what seemed like days until 9 or so and wandered down to a party in the village. At one point me and Adam walked in to one of the big tent things (I have no idea what they are called tbh. Begins with 'M' methinks. Anyway) *ahem* and I found a woo woo fountain and a tube of pringles, so I stayed there for a bit. God, have just realised that joy of pringle tube makes me sound similar to that thing from Big Brother one year. Yuck. Adam wandered off somewhere, but then when I came out of the house I was grabbed by one of his friends telling me he was frantic and had been looking everywhere for me for the past hour. I thought I'd been in there 10 minutes. I am fail.
Welcoming in the New Year with the man I love was a lot better than last year, although screaming Aude Lang Syne (Or however the fuck it's spelt) in the living room with my mum was rather entertaining, but making a promise to that special someone is so much better <3 I'd like to think I've come a long way in the past year - I've turned 18, left school, joined university, moved miles away from home and started living alone. I've passed my driving test, held down 3 jobs (2 at once), successfully purchased and funded a car, got several tattoos and new piercings, met celebrities, drunk endless amounts of alcohol, seen so many new films, read so many new books and listened to so much more music. Most importantly, I have managed to find someone able to love me, and I have been able to love them back. :)
Don't get me wrong, there have also been low points - personal crisises concerning my personal health, both mental and physical, separation issues and possible divorces, insane amounts of debts and money worries, police incidents, assaults, depression, stress, bitchiness... I could continue, but that would be depressing. So I will leave you on a high (of sorts.)
I turn 19 in a week, so please don't judge me too strongly when I say that, as soon as this blog post is finished and posted, I will be sprinting through the living room out in to the garden and in to my room to avoid our lovely haunter, who has taken to violently rattling the door to what was once my room and the kitchen doors. This both scares and intrigues me. Part of me wants something to happen, but I know for a fact that if it does happen, I will quite possibly shit my pants, scream loud enough to wake up Long Sutton, which is 7 miles away, and trample all 3 of my dogs to death in my efforts to return to the little girl I once was, frightened by the sounds the house makes after dark and running to jump in her mummy's bed.
Wish me luck - hopefully I will have something oh-so special for you next time ;)
P.S. "Fuck me." "Suck me." Makes me LOL rather a lot. Kinda a mood killer, though.
I missed the normality of a 'OH Em GEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! IT was Christmas and now it's over and going to be a whole new year and that!' - type post, basically outlining that I stuffed my fat face for a few days then got insanely drunk and lost at a New Years Eve party. Or something similar. It's me. Jesus. (Notice that it is a full stop and not a comma. No, I have not just admitted I am the Son Of God. This is because God does not exist, so how could I be his son? Also, my lack of penis would prove the son part to be extremely difficult.)
But no, there has been good reasonings for no regular postings as of late. I know that as soon as I go back to uni (in 3 weeks), the posts will return to being daily occurances. But, for now, as I sit in a darkened room in my blatantly haunted house, possibly with a ghosty peeking over my shoulder (which I hate. Fuck off and read something else!), I shall take the time to explain and reflect on what I have been up to lately, and through the year as a whole.
I intended to post on Christmas Day, and even started writing it. I then got so drunk (so much so that I fell down the stairs. ¬_¬~) and started enjoying watching my Jackass DVDs too much, so the blog post got abandoned. The Jackass thing? Mazi got me the boxset for Crimby. My family had the choice of watching several family suitable movies, like Toy Story 3, for example. What do we choose? Jackass. That is my household. Ah well. Since then I have basically been living at Adam's, only taking breaks to go to work under the control of a vicious COCKHEAD who's more Bi-polar than the North and South Poles (Geddit?! Oh, naff off then.) I'm 'Princess Leia' one minute - Leia, not Leah, so this doesn't work, and then 'silly bitch' or something similar the next. Fuck you, with your cheesy OTT "OHHHHHHHHHHHH! Your own Hans Solo is in the kitcheeeeeeeeeeeeennnnnn!!" ("Let me just go and yell at him for fuck all reason, sending him in to a horrific bad mood that I will then blame on you and make you cry and want to stab me in the eye repeatedly with a particalarly sharp chip.")
KFC is back in my life, Oh glee, and is full of new workers who won't talk to me. At all. Fuck you. I was there first - people know and like me. They are mostly foreign, and have NO MANNERS! One of them is so rude and arrogant it is unreal. She's the kind of person that makes me want to purposely wrap my car around a tree to avoid having to interact with them. I greeted her with a 'hello' one morning, I recieved a sneer and a 'hmph!' headtoss kinda thing in return. She didn't hear my "I do hope I get the opportunity to slam your head in to a wall today! :)" Well, either that or she didn't understand me.
I spent new years at Adam's, and will have some lovely video footage to share with you soon. We had intended on spending the night in. After getting pissed by 6 pm (I as drinking wine and cider, and hadn't eaten in about 3 days. Have mercy with your slatings) we arsed around for what seemed like days until 9 or so and wandered down to a party in the village. At one point me and Adam walked in to one of the big tent things (I have no idea what they are called tbh. Begins with 'M' methinks. Anyway) *ahem* and I found a woo woo fountain and a tube of pringles, so I stayed there for a bit. God, have just realised that joy of pringle tube makes me sound similar to that thing from Big Brother one year. Yuck. Adam wandered off somewhere, but then when I came out of the house I was grabbed by one of his friends telling me he was frantic and had been looking everywhere for me for the past hour. I thought I'd been in there 10 minutes. I am fail.
Welcoming in the New Year with the man I love was a lot better than last year, although screaming Aude Lang Syne (Or however the fuck it's spelt) in the living room with my mum was rather entertaining, but making a promise to that special someone is so much better <3 I'd like to think I've come a long way in the past year - I've turned 18, left school, joined university, moved miles away from home and started living alone. I've passed my driving test, held down 3 jobs (2 at once), successfully purchased and funded a car, got several tattoos and new piercings, met celebrities, drunk endless amounts of alcohol, seen so many new films, read so many new books and listened to so much more music. Most importantly, I have managed to find someone able to love me, and I have been able to love them back. :)
Don't get me wrong, there have also been low points - personal crisises concerning my personal health, both mental and physical, separation issues and possible divorces, insane amounts of debts and money worries, police incidents, assaults, depression, stress, bitchiness... I could continue, but that would be depressing. So I will leave you on a high (of sorts.)
I turn 19 in a week, so please don't judge me too strongly when I say that, as soon as this blog post is finished and posted, I will be sprinting through the living room out in to the garden and in to my room to avoid our lovely haunter, who has taken to violently rattling the door to what was once my room and the kitchen doors. This both scares and intrigues me. Part of me wants something to happen, but I know for a fact that if it does happen, I will quite possibly shit my pants, scream loud enough to wake up Long Sutton, which is 7 miles away, and trample all 3 of my dogs to death in my efforts to return to the little girl I once was, frightened by the sounds the house makes after dark and running to jump in her mummy's bed.
Wish me luck - hopefully I will have something oh-so special for you next time ;)
P.S. "Fuck me." "Suck me." Makes me LOL rather a lot. Kinda a mood killer, though.
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