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...
Thursday, 6 October 2011
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........
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