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'.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)