Er, hi!
Been a while, hasn't it? About 4 months maybe? Jesus, I don't think I've ever been quiet for that long. I hope you enjoyed it while you could, because I doubt it will happen again. (This is a lie. I'll probably get busy again and forget about you lot. Um, woops?)
So, what's been happening? I've had some drama. I've had some trauma. And about 80% of the things that have happened to me have been totally random and ultimately hilarious.
Basics-wise, I'm back at uni after a lovely Christmas at home with my family. It was also, I'm proud to admit, the first 'carnivorous' Christmas I've enjoyed in 15 years. Yip! Me likey de meaty now! "Why?" I hear you cry? (Well, I don't actually hear you) Well, I have some food intolerances. Um, yay. So, I cannot have dairy or starchy things any more. I'm even more awkward to take out to dinner than I was before. PEOPLE LIKE ME, ARRRRRRR!!!!!!
I turned 20, which makes me wince every time it is brought up. I don't particularly have any wish to be an adult. I don't act like one in the slightest, so I think it would be almost wrong to call myself one. Also, I don't want to feel old. Being 20 makes me feel old. Especially when my younger brother cries out "Holy SHIT I'm going to have an adult sister!!" while I'm driving. Sure-fire way to almost make me have an accident there, Christy Bum!
I've also cut the majority of my hair off. Once again. Even though I hated it when I did it before and practically pulled it all out through the stress of it not growing back again quick enough. I am currently sporting the same hair cut that a young Leah Deane sported. Age 5. She had no choice in the matter and looked vaguely sweet/female with said hair cut. Then Leah Heeney gave it a shot aged 15. I'm not quite sure why she did it - probably some sort of 'I WANT TO BE DIFFERENT' motive. Now, aged 20, Leah Noble has given it another shot.
*Derp face* What? Oh, yeah. I'm not Leah Heeney any more! Due to my, er, somewhat 'iffy' mental state when it came to a certain man (who shall remain nameless as I don't want to end up sobbing hysterically and rocking myself in a corner. Seriously. It was reaching that point. Anyway) who shared my previous surname, I have taken steps. Well, I say 'steps' in an uber-dramatic fashion, but all I've done is change my surname. Oooh, new signature! (Again). Judging on how long I usually hold a surname for, I should get married and change my name again in 10 years time. (Pfft!! Yeah, because THAT will happen!)
Maybe I should change my author name on here, then...
And so, I am back! So, get out the banners and the balloons (Amy style. She filled my room with balloons for my return!) and get ready to be filled with my random witterings once more. How thrilling are they? ^__________^
Showing posts with label different. Show all posts
Showing posts with label different. Show all posts
Wednesday, 8 February 2012
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.
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, 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
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 ^____________________^
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