Up until about two weeks ago I have never really paid much attention to the news. I made a decision about five years back that if I continued to watch the news I would never be happy again.
I have this really nasty habit of getting emotionally involved in every bad thing that I see. I would be in a perfectly chipper mood, spend half an hour watching the horrific goings on of the world and then not want to leave my house for like three days.
For the sake of my sanity I decided to boycott all newspapers and news channels. I lived in ignorant bliss for five years until this year...
This year there was this massive vote we had in England. It was called the AV vote. Don't ask me about anything else to do with this however because I didn't even realise it was happening until the day of voting.
I DO know it has something to do with the way we elect our Prime Minister. It was at this point I decided that ignoring the world around me probably wasn't the best option anymore.
It took me a little time but I decided two weeks ago that I would ease myself into the media knowledge via the free paper available to me on the train into work. This is called The metro.
The metro is a fairly safe paper to get wrapped up in. It tells the news but also adds fun little quirky stories in for good measure.
Since I have been making this effort to not ignore the things that have happened around me I have had a mixed reaction to my decision. Days like this Monday just gone have made my decision tough. That was not easy reading (My thoughts and prayers go out to all those effected in Norway and to the family and friends if Amy Winehouse).
Today however I came across such a gem that I don't know how I was happy in my life before I had read it.
Best article in the world
Please give the article a read. It will make your day I promise.
Being a massive kickass fan I have spent many a night imagining a world where an ordinary kid would throw on a full body suit and try and fight crime. Despite all the violence, blood and death in that movie the concept that someone, somewhere in the world was living out the superhero fantasy made me beyond ecstatic.
Guys, my life is that little bit brighter thanks to Roger Hayhurst. And the fact that people seem to let him do it rocks even more!! Thank you world for introducing me to this insight! Awesome in a bag is this day.
I'm not kidding every time I have thought of this story today I have felt elated. I think I've just become his number one fan.
Who would like to join the fan club?
Peace out my lovelies.
Friday, 29 July 2011
Thursday, 28 July 2011
I don't hate you... Unless you're Nicholas Cage or an earwig, then I do hate you. In a very irrational but understandable way.
In case you hadn't caught on by now, I'm crashing at Rachael-The-Bully's house this week. As such I have not been as active internet wise as I normally am.
Rachael-The-Bully has internet but the thing is like Fort Knox. It is completely impossible to access it. She has a password but within a couple of months of creating it she had forgotten it. This means no one can use it, not even her as due to some fault she was chucked off and couldn't remember the password to put her back on again.
Instead she has resorted to plugging herself into the router. We've all tried contacting Virgin Media to change the password but they are determined that we do not qualify for the changing of passwords... not even Rachael-The-Bully... who's house it is... and who owns the internet (obviously not the whole internet but all the internet in her premises at least).
The rest of us are left waving our iPhones and Blackberrys around our heads, desperately trying to snatch some form of 3G signal so we can at least check our Facebook.
I felt like I should mention this to you in case you're used to see me leaving you messages via twitter or your blogs and have started to notice that I haven't been lately. This is not because I have suddenly decided I hate you and don't want to commune with you any more. I'm just simply internetually challenged.
At the moment I am writing my posts on the journey home from work, going to my internet surging household for a mere half hour to upload it and grab an overnight bag then coasting down to The-Bullies-Lair.
This has proven healthy for me in the sense that I'm not checking my blog statistics page every second because the internet won't let me. But it is bad because over the past four months or so I have built a whole social life that is dependent on that thing.
But on the plus side I get to sleep in my old bed (I used to live with Rachael-The-Bully) and wake up and pretend I'm three years younger as I relive the whole experience.
Also as much as I love living on my own, sometimes it's nice to have someone to rip into and be sarcastic with of an evening.
Tonight though it is my last night of crashing at Rachael-The-Bully's as One-And-Only-Daniela is back with me tomorrow! I don't know about anyone else but I am highly looking forward to hearing what new and exciting things she has to say this time. We may even get a little further with our new religion 'Rumligion.'
Peace out my lovelies.
Rachael-The-Bully has internet but the thing is like Fort Knox. It is completely impossible to access it. She has a password but within a couple of months of creating it she had forgotten it. This means no one can use it, not even her as due to some fault she was chucked off and couldn't remember the password to put her back on again.
Instead she has resorted to plugging herself into the router. We've all tried contacting Virgin Media to change the password but they are determined that we do not qualify for the changing of passwords... not even Rachael-The-Bully... who's house it is... and who owns the internet (obviously not the whole internet but all the internet in her premises at least).
The rest of us are left waving our iPhones and Blackberrys around our heads, desperately trying to snatch some form of 3G signal so we can at least check our Facebook.
I felt like I should mention this to you in case you're used to see me leaving you messages via twitter or your blogs and have started to notice that I haven't been lately. This is not because I have suddenly decided I hate you and don't want to commune with you any more. I'm just simply internetually challenged.
At the moment I am writing my posts on the journey home from work, going to my internet surging household for a mere half hour to upload it and grab an overnight bag then coasting down to The-Bullies-Lair.
This has proven healthy for me in the sense that I'm not checking my blog statistics page every second because the internet won't let me. But it is bad because over the past four months or so I have built a whole social life that is dependent on that thing.
But on the plus side I get to sleep in my old bed (I used to live with Rachael-The-Bully) and wake up and pretend I'm three years younger as I relive the whole experience.
Also as much as I love living on my own, sometimes it's nice to have someone to rip into and be sarcastic with of an evening.
Tonight though it is my last night of crashing at Rachael-The-Bully's as One-And-Only-Daniela is back with me tomorrow! I don't know about anyone else but I am highly looking forward to hearing what new and exciting things she has to say this time. We may even get a little further with our new religion 'Rumligion.'
Peace out my lovelies.
Wednesday, 27 July 2011
It's a small price to pay for free stuff.
I walked into Rachael-The-Bully's house last night and plonked down my two bags. One with food in, the other was the bag I've had since I was 21. To say it has seen better days would be an understatement.
Out of everyone's feelings it could possibly hurt however, Rachael-The-Bully seems to be the most effected. Last night was no exception. She took one look at it and snarled. She said nothing however.
About half an hour into the evening as I was sitting down with my healthy bowl of super noodles Rachael-The-Bully started to tell me about her day.
"I was on the train today and a girl walked on carrying a bag just as old and tacky as yours," she began. "Do you know what I thought when I saw her?"
"Was it 'wow she must really love that bag' by any chance?"
"Not quite," she said. "More like, 'wow, she just looks so... dirty.'"
"Ah, there's nothing like a good bit of judgemental commenting on the train."
"Surely you must realise that going on the train with that bag would get you the same comments?"
"I'm pretty sure no one's quite as offended by the bag as you are... Well, with the exception of maybe Claire."
Rachael-The-Bully sighed and let it go for about an hour before she clocked eyes on it again.
"Oh for crying out loud," she said. "I will give you a bag if you promise to stop using that one."
I looked up from my puzzle book that I had started and gazed at her curiously.
"Really?"
Rachael-The-Bully simply sighed and got up, mumbling to herself. I heard her rooting around in her bedroom for about ten minutes before she finally emerged with my cool new bag. One that she had bought but had not yet used.
I gaped at her for about five seconds before I finally found my words.
"So you're telling me that you're that annoyed by my laziness of buying a new bag that you want to give me one of yours?"
Rachael-The-Bully thrust it into my arms. "At least people won't think you're homeless now."
"Cheers Rach!"
And this, people, is one of the reasons why, even though I call Claire and Rachael bullies, I still think they're freaking awesome. Rachael-The-Bully's insults end in free goodies and Claire-The-Bully is letting me crash in her bed while she's away for a week.
I'm planning on bringing some of my most tacky trousers and tops tonight and see what I get as a result of her annoyance from them. There are a couple of tops she has that I've had my eye on for a while now...
Peace out my lovelies.
Out of everyone's feelings it could possibly hurt however, Rachael-The-Bully seems to be the most effected. Last night was no exception. She took one look at it and snarled. She said nothing however.
About half an hour into the evening as I was sitting down with my healthy bowl of super noodles Rachael-The-Bully started to tell me about her day.
"I was on the train today and a girl walked on carrying a bag just as old and tacky as yours," she began. "Do you know what I thought when I saw her?"
"Was it 'wow she must really love that bag' by any chance?"
"Not quite," she said. "More like, 'wow, she just looks so... dirty.'"
"Ah, there's nothing like a good bit of judgemental commenting on the train."
"Surely you must realise that going on the train with that bag would get you the same comments?"
"I'm pretty sure no one's quite as offended by the bag as you are... Well, with the exception of maybe Claire."
Rachael-The-Bully sighed and let it go for about an hour before she clocked eyes on it again.
"Oh for crying out loud," she said. "I will give you a bag if you promise to stop using that one."
I looked up from my puzzle book that I had started and gazed at her curiously.
"Really?"
Rachael-The-Bully simply sighed and got up, mumbling to herself. I heard her rooting around in her bedroom for about ten minutes before she finally emerged with my cool new bag. One that she had bought but had not yet used.
I gaped at her for about five seconds before I finally found my words.
"So you're telling me that you're that annoyed by my laziness of buying a new bag that you want to give me one of yours?"
Rachael-The-Bully thrust it into my arms. "At least people won't think you're homeless now."
"Cheers Rach!"
And this, people, is one of the reasons why, even though I call Claire and Rachael bullies, I still think they're freaking awesome. Rachael-The-Bully's insults end in free goodies and Claire-The-Bully is letting me crash in her bed while she's away for a week.
I'm planning on bringing some of my most tacky trousers and tops tonight and see what I get as a result of her annoyance from them. There are a couple of tops she has that I've had my eye on for a while now...
Peace out my lovelies.
Tuesday, 26 July 2011
A little guide to the tv world in London, England.
The film Swordfish was advertised to be on tv last night. It was in the tv guide magazine and on the guide on the tv as well (by this I mean the electronic guide not another magazine that I've Sellotaped to the screen).
The film was due to be on one of the lesser upmarket tv channels out of the bog standard channels. You have BBC1 and ITV1 at the top which are the rival big channels with a plethora of Saturday night entertainment. Next there's BBC2 for the documentaries and cult comic panel shows. Then there's channel 4 which basically has all the good 'Friday night' entertainment type channels. A good one for comedy and Countdown.
And finally there is a little channel they tagged on a good 15 years ago called Channel 5. This channel either plays mediocre and slightly suspect trashy tv shows or it feeds on the remains of the first four channels' cast offs. The latest one of these being Big Brother now that channel 4 has grown bored of it.
Anyway, channel 5 was claiming to put on Swordfish. Sometimes, despite their tragic tv taste, they can get it right movie wise.
I was round Rachael-The-Bully's house.
We read the synopsis of the movie. I personally was very excited over the prospect of seeing a Hugh Jackman/John Travolta classic thriller. I had not yet seen it and do love an excuse to educate myself movie wise.
After five minutes of seeing Jessica Alba and Paul Walker jump off boats however I remember being a little perplexed. I was pretty sure I had seen this movie but I was certain that I had not seen Swordfish.
A few minutes later two new characters came on the screen. A guy and a really skinny blonde girl. My perplexion deepened as I turned to Rachael-The-Bully.
"This is so weird. I was so certain that I hadn't seen Swordfish but I know that girl is going to be chomped up by sharks."
Rachael-The-Bully groaned. "Aw, can we not watch it then? I'm pretty sure I'll be too scared."
"I'm sure it's fine." I said. "I'm certain I haven't seen Swordfish before."
"Yeah well, Claire made me watch Sixth Sense last week and I had to go to bed at the same time as her because I was too scared. I don't want to do the same thing with you."
"I must be making it up. She'll be fine."
An unbelievable twenty minutes later and these four actors still hadn't left the water. This was (I'm ashamed to say) the point where I began to get suspicious.
"Um Rach." I said.
"Yeah?"
"I'm beginning to have my doubts about whether this film is actually Swordfish. Also, I definitely have seen this before."
"But they're in the water," Rachael-The-Bully argued. "I'm sure they're about to meet the Swordfish really soon."
I watched as Jessica Alba straddled Paul Walker in a fit of passion and suddenly felt confident with my decision.
I picked up the magazine tv guide and glanced over at the synopsis for Swordfish again. "Okay, I'm pretty sure this is not a film about 'a secretive renagade counter-terrorist co-opting the world greatest hacker. There's far too much water to be anywhere near electrics. Besides I haven't seen either Hugh Jackman or John Travolta once yet. You'd have thought they'd at least have made an appearance by now."
I got out my trusty IMDB app, made a few searches and smiled as the title of the film showed itself.
"Into the Blue!" I exclaimed. "I have seen this film before." Memories flooded back. "Oooh, it's not that good."
Rachael-The-Bully searched the electronic tv guide and it still said Swordfish.
"But this tv guide is never wrong! I mean it's electronic."
I gasped as the mistake suddenly was made clear.
"Rach, we're watching Channel 5. You know how bad they are. You don't suppose they put this film on because it has Swordfish in it and they thought that that meant it was the right movie?"
"I thought that."
"Well at least we know if everything else falls down we have a mediocre career in crappy television that we'd be perfect for."
The film was due to be on one of the lesser upmarket tv channels out of the bog standard channels. You have BBC1 and ITV1 at the top which are the rival big channels with a plethora of Saturday night entertainment. Next there's BBC2 for the documentaries and cult comic panel shows. Then there's channel 4 which basically has all the good 'Friday night' entertainment type channels. A good one for comedy and Countdown.
And finally there is a little channel they tagged on a good 15 years ago called Channel 5. This channel either plays mediocre and slightly suspect trashy tv shows or it feeds on the remains of the first four channels' cast offs. The latest one of these being Big Brother now that channel 4 has grown bored of it.
Anyway, channel 5 was claiming to put on Swordfish. Sometimes, despite their tragic tv taste, they can get it right movie wise.
I was round Rachael-The-Bully's house.
We read the synopsis of the movie. I personally was very excited over the prospect of seeing a Hugh Jackman/John Travolta classic thriller. I had not yet seen it and do love an excuse to educate myself movie wise.
After five minutes of seeing Jessica Alba and Paul Walker jump off boats however I remember being a little perplexed. I was pretty sure I had seen this movie but I was certain that I had not seen Swordfish.
A few minutes later two new characters came on the screen. A guy and a really skinny blonde girl. My perplexion deepened as I turned to Rachael-The-Bully.
"This is so weird. I was so certain that I hadn't seen Swordfish but I know that girl is going to be chomped up by sharks."
Rachael-The-Bully groaned. "Aw, can we not watch it then? I'm pretty sure I'll be too scared."
"I'm sure it's fine." I said. "I'm certain I haven't seen Swordfish before."
"Yeah well, Claire made me watch Sixth Sense last week and I had to go to bed at the same time as her because I was too scared. I don't want to do the same thing with you."
"I must be making it up. She'll be fine."
An unbelievable twenty minutes later and these four actors still hadn't left the water. This was (I'm ashamed to say) the point where I began to get suspicious.
"Um Rach." I said.
"Yeah?"
"I'm beginning to have my doubts about whether this film is actually Swordfish. Also, I definitely have seen this before."
"But they're in the water," Rachael-The-Bully argued. "I'm sure they're about to meet the Swordfish really soon."
I watched as Jessica Alba straddled Paul Walker in a fit of passion and suddenly felt confident with my decision.
I picked up the magazine tv guide and glanced over at the synopsis for Swordfish again. "Okay, I'm pretty sure this is not a film about 'a secretive renagade counter-terrorist co-opting the world greatest hacker. There's far too much water to be anywhere near electrics. Besides I haven't seen either Hugh Jackman or John Travolta once yet. You'd have thought they'd at least have made an appearance by now."
I got out my trusty IMDB app, made a few searches and smiled as the title of the film showed itself.
"Into the Blue!" I exclaimed. "I have seen this film before." Memories flooded back. "Oooh, it's not that good."
Rachael-The-Bully searched the electronic tv guide and it still said Swordfish.
"But this tv guide is never wrong! I mean it's electronic."
I gasped as the mistake suddenly was made clear.
"Rach, we're watching Channel 5. You know how bad they are. You don't suppose they put this film on because it has Swordfish in it and they thought that that meant it was the right movie?"
"I thought that."
"Well at least we know if everything else falls down we have a mediocre career in crappy television that we'd be perfect for."
Monday, 25 July 2011
I'm so glad I have a place to write all my amazing ideas down so I never forget them.
I've decided to invent something. Something that I need badly. Something that will stop me from making the same mistake over and over and allow me to blossom and skip and sing like a truly developed person.
After this 'phone losing' incident you'd think I'd have learnt my lesson, but nope, not me. Instead yesterday I go and repeat the manic 'losing the phone' situation all over again. Luckily I had left it in a friends car but my poor nerves made a decision for the rest of my body in that moment. The decision will simultaneously solve my problem and add more pennies to my stack of millions of pounds I am one day going to make.
I decided I would create a device that means I would never lose my phone again.
At first I considered enduring the pain of stapling the phone to my ear. As feasible and highly useful that it sounded, alas I realised I wouldn't be able to remove the phone from my ear to text or type numbers or tweet or even play bookworm (yes I'm still going with that, I know! I've amazed even myself!)
So my next thought was to staple some form of lever device to my ear and use that to stretch the phone out in front of me when I needed it.
Again, I marvelled at my own genius before I realised another small flaw in that I was now applying a lot of weight onto the top of my ear which would just pull the top over my ear hole so that I would be able to hear the person on the phone anyways.
This was when I came up with the head band idea. An elastic band designed to match my skin tone and a thin lever off the end so that I could plait my hair around it and fool people to think I'm just sporting a rather edgy hair style.
There was just one problem with this design. Elastic just didn't seem secure enough. Especially for when I slept.
That's when I remembered the invention of the screw and screwdriver.
In case you were wondering what this amazing invention would look like... Huzzah! Here's my design!
I shall be starting the price at £70 for the product and £30 for installation including the use of a proper fancy electric screwdriver. I expect to see your checks in the post.
Peace out my lovelies.
After this 'phone losing' incident you'd think I'd have learnt my lesson, but nope, not me. Instead yesterday I go and repeat the manic 'losing the phone' situation all over again. Luckily I had left it in a friends car but my poor nerves made a decision for the rest of my body in that moment. The decision will simultaneously solve my problem and add more pennies to my stack of millions of pounds I am one day going to make.
I decided I would create a device that means I would never lose my phone again.
At first I considered enduring the pain of stapling the phone to my ear. As feasible and highly useful that it sounded, alas I realised I wouldn't be able to remove the phone from my ear to text or type numbers or tweet or even play bookworm (yes I'm still going with that, I know! I've amazed even myself!)
So my next thought was to staple some form of lever device to my ear and use that to stretch the phone out in front of me when I needed it.
Again, I marvelled at my own genius before I realised another small flaw in that I was now applying a lot of weight onto the top of my ear which would just pull the top over my ear hole so that I would be able to hear the person on the phone anyways.
This was when I came up with the head band idea. An elastic band designed to match my skin tone and a thin lever off the end so that I could plait my hair around it and fool people to think I'm just sporting a rather edgy hair style.
There was just one problem with this design. Elastic just didn't seem secure enough. Especially for when I slept.
That's when I remembered the invention of the screw and screwdriver.
In case you were wondering what this amazing invention would look like... Huzzah! Here's my design!
I shall be starting the price at £70 for the product and £30 for installation including the use of a proper fancy electric screwdriver. I expect to see your checks in the post.
Peace out my lovelies.
Friday, 22 July 2011
An ode to everything that is ginger.
Well due to my rubbish immune system I've been stuck inside for two days. This hasn't been fun. I have every window open because my fever has told me I'm too hot but I'm pretty sure that it's cold outside due to the fact that my toes are cold, even if the rest of me isn't.
I hope that tomorrow things are better. That's what we always hope when the immune system is low. "Tomorrow will be better." I'm just waiting for the morning when that actually turns out to be true. Until that day I am watching crappy morning TV and even crappier evening TV. I've managed to get obsessed with all the main soaps without even trying. I'm pretty sure that's a bad habit to be getting into.
On the plus side there's an amazing ginger man on one of the British soaps I have been watching called 'Coronation Street.' Him alone has made me be happy in British TV. For a couple of years I have been hearing my work colleagues going on about this amazing ginger man on Coronation Street that I have been missing out on. I have to admit, the character seems a bit of a douche but to look at? He's yummy. So I'm happy. Here's a picture to make everyone (who loves a ginger, which should be everyone) happy.
I appreciate he might not be much to look at if you're not a ginger freak like me (a fact that Claire-The-Bully tells me regularly) but in my 'completely obsessed with anything that is ginger that moves' capacity. I can tell you he is gorgeous.
Maybe I need to see the outside world, but I'm not convinced. I'm loving my new crush. We'll see what happens. I mean he's not as beautiful as the ultimate gingers which are the following two men...
and
But frankly, in my current state, any man that can look at me with ginger hair is the man of my dreams... even better if he has ginger that reaches to his eyelashes...
Another ginger man I have been perving over recently would be this guy...
He is making Grey's Anatomy the most enjoyable TV show out there.
And that is what I have learnt on my day of sickness today.
Peace out my lovelies.
I hope that tomorrow things are better. That's what we always hope when the immune system is low. "Tomorrow will be better." I'm just waiting for the morning when that actually turns out to be true. Until that day I am watching crappy morning TV and even crappier evening TV. I've managed to get obsessed with all the main soaps without even trying. I'm pretty sure that's a bad habit to be getting into.
On the plus side there's an amazing ginger man on one of the British soaps I have been watching called 'Coronation Street.' Him alone has made me be happy in British TV. For a couple of years I have been hearing my work colleagues going on about this amazing ginger man on Coronation Street that I have been missing out on. I have to admit, the character seems a bit of a douche but to look at? He's yummy. So I'm happy. Here's a picture to make everyone (who loves a ginger, which should be everyone) happy.
I appreciate he might not be much to look at if you're not a ginger freak like me (a fact that Claire-The-Bully tells me regularly) but in my 'completely obsessed with anything that is ginger that moves' capacity. I can tell you he is gorgeous.
Maybe I need to see the outside world, but I'm not convinced. I'm loving my new crush. We'll see what happens. I mean he's not as beautiful as the ultimate gingers which are the following two men...
and
But frankly, in my current state, any man that can look at me with ginger hair is the man of my dreams... even better if he has ginger that reaches to his eyelashes...
Another ginger man I have been perving over recently would be this guy...
He is making Grey's Anatomy the most enjoyable TV show out there.
And that is what I have learnt on my day of sickness today.
Peace out my lovelies.
Wednesday, 20 July 2011
Awesome moments like this make me love my tendency to steer away from sanity.
I just had a really bizarre moment. I'm sitting at the train station. I look across at the opposite platform and see a girl who looked very familiar to me. Do you want to know what my impulse reaction was?
"Holy crap, that's me!"
Ladies and gents, I'm not talking about thinking, "wow, that looks a lot like me" no, I mean "wow, how did I get over there so quickly?"
I would like to reassure everyone that this thought was incredibly fleeting and was promptly overruled by the thought "that might be the stupidest moment you've ever had."
It was the shock that went with it as well though. I was pretty terrified by the whole concept. Well, wouldn't you have been?
The really weird thing though was on closer inspection the girl was about 15 and looked nothing like me... My brain is a bizarre thing sometimes.
"Holy crap, that's me!"
Ladies and gents, I'm not talking about thinking, "wow, that looks a lot like me" no, I mean "wow, how did I get over there so quickly?"
I would like to reassure everyone that this thought was incredibly fleeting and was promptly overruled by the thought "that might be the stupidest moment you've ever had."
It was the shock that went with it as well though. I was pretty terrified by the whole concept. Well, wouldn't you have been?
The really weird thing though was on closer inspection the girl was about 15 and looked nothing like me... My brain is a bizarre thing sometimes.
Tuesday, 19 July 2011
Get rich quick? Yes I see that happening. I'm very good at theoretically reaping the benefits from everyone elses ideas.
I've been stuck at home once again only a couple of weeks after my last cold with a new one. Beginning to think I need an immune system transplant. Is that possible? I should definitely look that up and see if I can at least create one if it doesn't exist already...
Damn it, now I'm hoping it doesn't exist so I can be the one to create it. I don't know how I can but I might patent it before anyone else does so that I get all the credit should anyone else find a way of doing it. Yes, that is the way to make money.
Now all I need is a good team of doctors, scientists and researchers to do all the work for me while I reap the benefits. Then everyone can be healthy forever and I can live forever gaining money from it... that's a lot of money.
I like the ideas I come up with when I'm delirious from lack of sleep and a good immune system. I guess that's why I'm documenting this now so that when my body has recuperated and my mind goes with it I can still remember the genius ideas I have. Who would like to join me on this venture? I think it's a solid idea.
In other news, my parents are moving to Scotland on Thursday. This is a pretty emotional thing, especially for my mother who has to leave myself and both my brothers behind in England. Tomorrow night we are having a last meal type thing. I skyped my mother last week and she mentioned something about making sure that I bring tissues because it will be an emotional one. Pretty sure it will be as if my mother is going to find it emotional then I will also. I have only ever seen my mum cry once and that act alone sent me over the edge. Wish me luck for that ordeal tomorrow.
I'm one of those people who have absolutely amazing and supportive parents. We are a very close tight knit family and as of Thursday, my parents, me and my brothers will all be living in completely different places in the UK. It will be weird and although I have lived on my own for a while now, the idea is starting to freak me out. Is this an end of an era? Will my parents develop a Scottish accent? What will happen? The future is new and weird.
Mind you, once my millions come in from my 'Immune system transplant' idea and my award winning book then I'll be able to afford the plane trip to see them all the time. All the more reason for my team to start assembling itself now! I get the feeling it will involve a hell of a lot of vitamin C...
Also there is back up plan B, which is reap the benefits from One-And-Only-Daniela's profits surrounding Rumligion.
With all of these ideas flying around, I guess the only question is, why am I not rich yet?
It couldn't possibly be because I have spent the entire day watching Grey's Anatomy instead of working on these ideas. That's just ridiculous.
Peace out my lovelies.
Damn it, now I'm hoping it doesn't exist so I can be the one to create it. I don't know how I can but I might patent it before anyone else does so that I get all the credit should anyone else find a way of doing it. Yes, that is the way to make money.
Now all I need is a good team of doctors, scientists and researchers to do all the work for me while I reap the benefits. Then everyone can be healthy forever and I can live forever gaining money from it... that's a lot of money.
I like the ideas I come up with when I'm delirious from lack of sleep and a good immune system. I guess that's why I'm documenting this now so that when my body has recuperated and my mind goes with it I can still remember the genius ideas I have. Who would like to join me on this venture? I think it's a solid idea.
In other news, my parents are moving to Scotland on Thursday. This is a pretty emotional thing, especially for my mother who has to leave myself and both my brothers behind in England. Tomorrow night we are having a last meal type thing. I skyped my mother last week and she mentioned something about making sure that I bring tissues because it will be an emotional one. Pretty sure it will be as if my mother is going to find it emotional then I will also. I have only ever seen my mum cry once and that act alone sent me over the edge. Wish me luck for that ordeal tomorrow.
I'm one of those people who have absolutely amazing and supportive parents. We are a very close tight knit family and as of Thursday, my parents, me and my brothers will all be living in completely different places in the UK. It will be weird and although I have lived on my own for a while now, the idea is starting to freak me out. Is this an end of an era? Will my parents develop a Scottish accent? What will happen? The future is new and weird.
Mind you, once my millions come in from my 'Immune system transplant' idea and my award winning book then I'll be able to afford the plane trip to see them all the time. All the more reason for my team to start assembling itself now! I get the feeling it will involve a hell of a lot of vitamin C...
Also there is back up plan B, which is reap the benefits from One-And-Only-Daniela's profits surrounding Rumligion.
With all of these ideas flying around, I guess the only question is, why am I not rich yet?
It couldn't possibly be because I have spent the entire day watching Grey's Anatomy instead of working on these ideas. That's just ridiculous.
Peace out my lovelies.
Monday, 18 July 2011
A weekend of One-And-Only laughs.
I apologise for dominating my posts with transcript talk but you see, One-And-Only-Daniela was here for the whole weekend this weekend and I just have to share some of our conversations with you.
So without further ado, I give you more of One-And-Only-Daniela.
One-And-Only-Daniela is shortened to OAOD.
Saturday Morning.
Whilst watching Cold Case.
OAOD: So the reason why they can solve these old cases now is because the technology's a lot better right?
Me: Yeah, I guess so.
OAOD: So if Jack the Ripper had tried to murder people now, we'd probably have caught him.
Me: Probably.
OAOD: Oh (stops and thinks for a moment). Is he dead now though?
Me: I should hope so given that he was killing people centuries ago.
OAOD: Really? Wait, what century are we in now?
Me: The 21st.
OAOD: I thought it was the 20th? ... No you're right it's the 21st. (Pauses and thinks a little longer) oh yeah, I guess he would be dead by now.
Saturday night.
Sitting in the cinema about to watch Harry Potter.
OAOD: (Takes a huge gulp of our joint diet coke) I'm so thirsty. These jalepeno's are so hot.
Me: You should have brought that chavvy water bottle of rum you had earlier, it might have made this whole film a lot more interesting.
OAOD: (laughs) Yeah, that would have been a good idea.
Me: Mind you, that man who checked your bags at the entrance would probably have not let you bring it in.
OAOD: Nonsense, I would have told him it was herbal tea.
Me: It wouldn't matter, you're not allowed to bring any of your own food or drink in here, he would have asked for it anyway.
OAOD: That's rubbish. I'd have just refused and said he can't take it because if he did then he'd be going against my religion.
Me: What religion insists you need to be drinking home made herbal tea whilst watching Harry Potter?
OAOD: I'll make one up. You only need a certain amount of people to follow it before it's classed as a real religion.
Me: Well if you're going to do that you might as well not lie about it being herbal tea and say that drinking rum is your religion.
OAOD: I could do that!
Me: You'd have to come up with rules and a name and then get followers. Sounds like a lot of work...
OAOD: I've just thought of the best name.
Me: What?
OAOD: I'm going to call it 'Rumligion.'
Me: (Laughs) What are the principles of 'Rumligion?'
OAOD: (Stops and thinks for a moment) To drink rum?
Me: Solid. I like it.
There were more but I didn't document them at the time so I can't remember! All in all though she is awesome and Claire-and-Rachael-The-Bullies agreed whole heartedly when they met her on Friday night.
Tomorrow I'll try and come up with something awesome off my own back rather than stealing material from my friend's awesomeness.
Peace out my lovelies.
Saturday, 16 July 2011
I don't think I have ever cacked myself as much as I did last night.
I spent the evening introducing Rachael-And-Claire-The-Bullies to One-And-Only-Daniela last night.
When One-And-Only-Daniela and myself got back from our night out I couldn't find my mobile phone so I decided to ring it with my home phone. I rang it once and it rang through, I then rang it again and it cut off. 30 seconds later my home phone started to ring with my mobile number showing on the screen. I answered the phone and the following conversation took place.
Me: Hello?
Woman's voice: Hello? Who is this please?
Me: My name's Lisa. I couldn't find my phone so I rang it. I'm taking it you have it.
Woman's voice: It was brought into the Police Station. We have it now.
Me: Oh! Is there anyway I can come and pick it up?
Police Woman: I'm going to need proof that this phone is yours.
Me: Of course. It's an iphone 3GS, it has a load of cracks on the front screen and it has a picture of my god daughter in a pink dress as the wallpaper. Is that enough?
Police Woman: Not really. Can you let me know the last text you sent from it?
Me: Ummm. I sent a text a message to my friend Rachael telling her I was stuck at Finsbury Park station on the train and I would be late to meeting her.
Police Woman: ...
Me: Can you find it?
Police woman: That is a text message on there but it isn't the last one there.
Me: Really?
Police woman: What can you tell me about the text message you sent from this phone asking someone for Cocaine?
Me: (Starts to panic) I'm sorry, what??!!
Police woman: There is a text message sent from your phone asking for cocaine. What can you tell me about that?
Me: I promise you I didn't send that! I've never taken Cocaine in my life.
Police Woman: Well how do you explain the message?
Me: It must have been sent by whoever found the phone. I promise you, I've never taken any drugs in my life. I drink alcohol occasionally but I PROMISE you I would not be asking for Cocaine... Who was the text message sent to?
Police Woman: Someone called Harry.
Me: It really wasn't me, I can't say that enough!
Police Woman: ...
Me: Am I in trouble?
Police Woman: I think it's best if you come down to the station so we can talk to you about that.
Me: Now? It's about 1 in the morning!
Police Woman: We just have a few questions we would like to ask you.
Me: Well I'm in my pyjamas at the moment, it might take me a while to get changed but of course I'll come down. I should be there in half an hour.
Police woman: ...
Me: Is that okay?
Police woman: (Starts to laugh) Lisa you arse! It's me!
Me: What??!!... Claire?
"Police Woman": I can't believe you fell for that!
Me: I can't believe you did that!! THIS is why you are called Claire-The-Bully!
Ladies and gents, that was by far the most scared I have ever been in my life. One-And-Only-Daniela was also completely terrified as she had to sit by and listen to me apologising to an officer about cocaine use.
I honestly thought this was going to end up being one of those things you see on TV where I was going to end up in prison for something I hadn't done. My mother would have cried, my permanent record would have been down as a druggie and I would end up never being able to get a job and end up living on the streets until eventually I died of malnutrition or some kind of disease.
Having said all that, I've never been so happy that it was a joke. I also have to agree that Claire-The-Bully got me pretty good.
Well done Claire-The-Bully, I tip my hat to you.
When One-And-Only-Daniela and myself got back from our night out I couldn't find my mobile phone so I decided to ring it with my home phone. I rang it once and it rang through, I then rang it again and it cut off. 30 seconds later my home phone started to ring with my mobile number showing on the screen. I answered the phone and the following conversation took place.
Me: Hello?
Woman's voice: Hello? Who is this please?
Me: My name's Lisa. I couldn't find my phone so I rang it. I'm taking it you have it.
Woman's voice: It was brought into the Police Station. We have it now.
Me: Oh! Is there anyway I can come and pick it up?
Police Woman: I'm going to need proof that this phone is yours.
Me: Of course. It's an iphone 3GS, it has a load of cracks on the front screen and it has a picture of my god daughter in a pink dress as the wallpaper. Is that enough?
Police Woman: Not really. Can you let me know the last text you sent from it?
Me: Ummm. I sent a text a message to my friend Rachael telling her I was stuck at Finsbury Park station on the train and I would be late to meeting her.
Police Woman: ...
Me: Can you find it?
Police woman: That is a text message on there but it isn't the last one there.
Me: Really?
Police woman: What can you tell me about the text message you sent from this phone asking someone for Cocaine?
Me: (Starts to panic) I'm sorry, what??!!
Police woman: There is a text message sent from your phone asking for cocaine. What can you tell me about that?
Me: I promise you I didn't send that! I've never taken Cocaine in my life.
Police Woman: Well how do you explain the message?
Me: It must have been sent by whoever found the phone. I promise you, I've never taken any drugs in my life. I drink alcohol occasionally but I PROMISE you I would not be asking for Cocaine... Who was the text message sent to?
Police Woman: Someone called Harry.
Me: It really wasn't me, I can't say that enough!
Police Woman: ...
Me: Am I in trouble?
Police Woman: I think it's best if you come down to the station so we can talk to you about that.
Me: Now? It's about 1 in the morning!
Police Woman: We just have a few questions we would like to ask you.
Me: Well I'm in my pyjamas at the moment, it might take me a while to get changed but of course I'll come down. I should be there in half an hour.
Police woman: ...
Me: Is that okay?
Police woman: (Starts to laugh) Lisa you arse! It's me!
Me: What??!!... Claire?
"Police Woman": I can't believe you fell for that!
Me: I can't believe you did that!! THIS is why you are called Claire-The-Bully!
Ladies and gents, that was by far the most scared I have ever been in my life. One-And-Only-Daniela was also completely terrified as she had to sit by and listen to me apologising to an officer about cocaine use.
I honestly thought this was going to end up being one of those things you see on TV where I was going to end up in prison for something I hadn't done. My mother would have cried, my permanent record would have been down as a druggie and I would end up never being able to get a job and end up living on the streets until eventually I died of malnutrition or some kind of disease.
Having said all that, I've never been so happy that it was a joke. I also have to agree that Claire-The-Bully got me pretty good.
Well done Claire-The-Bully, I tip my hat to you.
Friday, 15 July 2011
This 'saying stupid things over the phone' milarkey seems to be happening far too often for my liking.
A phone conversation that took place two hours ago between myself and Rachael-The-Bully.
Rachael-The-Bully has been changed to RTB.
RTB: Hi Lisa, what have you and One-And-Only-Daniela got planned tonight?
Me: Oh nothing big, probably just down to the local for a couple of drinks. I've got a really bad cold so it can't be a late one. Fancy it?
RTB: Yeah, actually that works really well as Claire has had that Thyroid problem this week so she's not really up for a late one either.
Me: I've been meaning to talk to her about that! She text me on Wednesday telling me about that and then the next day my Thyroids had swollen up to twice their size. She had somehow managed to pass it to me over text.
RTB: Um Lisa?
Me: Yeah?
RTB: Do you really mean your glands?
Me: ...
RTB: I mean you DO know that you only have one Thyroid and it's on your spine not under your jaw, right?
Me: Actually that explains a lot. I was telling Work-Buddy-James about how I had caught Claire-The-Bully's thyroid problem and he had looked at me blankly and asked me if I had actually meant thyroid. Which I gleefully had confirmed.
RTB: Don't you work in a hospital?
Me: Yeah but it's a Mental Health hospital and I'm admin, I don't need to know anything about general medicine.
RTB: Still Lisa, that's really bad... I'm going to have to email Claire with this one.
Me: Brilliant. Even more ammo. Tonight's going to be grand.
Most of the time I have a logical explanation for the 'not normal' things that come out of my mouth. But sometimes? Sometimes I'm just that stupid.
Rachael-The-Bully has been changed to RTB.
RTB: Hi Lisa, what have you and One-And-Only-Daniela got planned tonight?
Me: Oh nothing big, probably just down to the local for a couple of drinks. I've got a really bad cold so it can't be a late one. Fancy it?
RTB: Yeah, actually that works really well as Claire has had that Thyroid problem this week so she's not really up for a late one either.
Me: I've been meaning to talk to her about that! She text me on Wednesday telling me about that and then the next day my Thyroids had swollen up to twice their size. She had somehow managed to pass it to me over text.
RTB: Um Lisa?
Me: Yeah?
RTB: Do you really mean your glands?
Me: ...
RTB: I mean you DO know that you only have one Thyroid and it's on your spine not under your jaw, right?
Me: Actually that explains a lot. I was telling Work-Buddy-James about how I had caught Claire-The-Bully's thyroid problem and he had looked at me blankly and asked me if I had actually meant thyroid. Which I gleefully had confirmed.
RTB: Don't you work in a hospital?
Me: Yeah but it's a Mental Health hospital and I'm admin, I don't need to know anything about general medicine.
RTB: Still Lisa, that's really bad... I'm going to have to email Claire with this one.
Me: Brilliant. Even more ammo. Tonight's going to be grand.
Most of the time I have a logical explanation for the 'not normal' things that come out of my mouth. But sometimes? Sometimes I'm just that stupid.
Thursday, 14 July 2011
What's that Lisa? Another thing that makes you socially awkward? Well there's a surprise!
I had my appraisal at work today. I don't want to brag or nuffink but I did pretty good!
One thing that I realised though is the appraisal setting is the only setting where I can take a compliment without being filled with awkwardness and suspicion.
In every other case my default thought reaction to any spontaneous compliment that comes my way is:
First: "Who told you to say that?"
Second: "Why are you being weird?"
Third: "What obligation do you owe me?"
And ending with fourth: "Oh my I feel awkward right now."
Whilst all the time my face looks like this:
It's not to say that I don't like getting compliments. I do. I just only learn to like them about 6 hours later when I've let my neuroses calm down and I'm able to process the words spoken at me.
Today in my appraisal however, I had feedback forms read to me from my bosses and due to the fact that these aren't the type of people to compliment for the hell if it, I was oddly able to take the compliments and not feel awkward.
Thinking about it, it may have had a lot to do with the fact that the people who had written the feedback forms weren't in the room. I'm pretty sure if they were have said it to my face I would have told them to stop being silly, "it's my job."
Actually, yes this can be confirmed as afterwards one of the guys who had written the form came in and I toyed with saying thanks for the feedback but then was crippled silent by the awkwardness that i was sure would inevitably follow...
I will say thanks eventually... I think.
I guess this post can serve as an explanation should you ever find yourself in a situation where you've said something nice to me and I've suddenly mumbled something incoherent and left the room. It's not because I don't appreciate the words, and I definitely am not saying that I don't LIKE getting compliments, I'm just... Well... socially stunted.
Those compliments and nice words today actually made my day today, I can tell you guys this because I don't have to worry about reacting correctly whilst in a social interaction. Whether I can tell the actual people is another story...
You know what? I'm going to try it, I'm going to aim to say thanks for the nice words and then marvel at myself and my personal growth.
I'm making it sound like I get compliments all the time. I really don't, probably why I act so weird about them. But that's not an invitation for some!! I really am not fishing, please don't think that! Oh see, this is why I just don't comment on things like this, I don't know how to.
If you've ever said anything nice to me... Thanks and sorry for being so weird about it.
Peace out my lovelies.
One thing that I realised though is the appraisal setting is the only setting where I can take a compliment without being filled with awkwardness and suspicion.
In every other case my default thought reaction to any spontaneous compliment that comes my way is:
First: "Who told you to say that?"
Second: "Why are you being weird?"
Third: "What obligation do you owe me?"
And ending with fourth: "Oh my I feel awkward right now."
Whilst all the time my face looks like this:
It's not to say that I don't like getting compliments. I do. I just only learn to like them about 6 hours later when I've let my neuroses calm down and I'm able to process the words spoken at me.
Today in my appraisal however, I had feedback forms read to me from my bosses and due to the fact that these aren't the type of people to compliment for the hell if it, I was oddly able to take the compliments and not feel awkward.
Thinking about it, it may have had a lot to do with the fact that the people who had written the feedback forms weren't in the room. I'm pretty sure if they were have said it to my face I would have told them to stop being silly, "it's my job."
Actually, yes this can be confirmed as afterwards one of the guys who had written the form came in and I toyed with saying thanks for the feedback but then was crippled silent by the awkwardness that i was sure would inevitably follow...
I will say thanks eventually... I think.
I guess this post can serve as an explanation should you ever find yourself in a situation where you've said something nice to me and I've suddenly mumbled something incoherent and left the room. It's not because I don't appreciate the words, and I definitely am not saying that I don't LIKE getting compliments, I'm just... Well... socially stunted.
Those compliments and nice words today actually made my day today, I can tell you guys this because I don't have to worry about reacting correctly whilst in a social interaction. Whether I can tell the actual people is another story...
You know what? I'm going to try it, I'm going to aim to say thanks for the nice words and then marvel at myself and my personal growth.
I'm making it sound like I get compliments all the time. I really don't, probably why I act so weird about them. But that's not an invitation for some!! I really am not fishing, please don't think that! Oh see, this is why I just don't comment on things like this, I don't know how to.
If you've ever said anything nice to me... Thanks and sorry for being so weird about it.
Peace out my lovelies.
Wednesday, 13 July 2011
WARNING: This post probably isn't for everyone - I apologise in advance for the ickiness.
I've been hobbling today. I'm not asking for sympathy. It is completely my fault as to why I have been but all the same, my right foot freakin hurts.
You see, last night, just as I was getting in the shower I spotted the mother of all blisters right in middle of the ball of my foot.
It was probably formed from all the walking I had to do on Sunday during my awesome day at Alton Towers. I remember being ready to amputate my feet by the end of that day.
This blister was so beautiful I simply couldn't help myself. I had to pop it. The logical part of my brain was telling me that I would regret this decision. It told me that due to where it was situated, there was no way popping it wouldn't hurt like a bitch. But I wouldn't listen.
A pull from my very core, fuelled by a rush of adrenaline and excitement forced me to abandon my shower and reach for my needle...
I'm not going to go into the details of it for the same reason I won't upload a photo. I don't want to repulse you guys, I kind of like the fact that you read my random crap, it would suck if you stopped.
All I will say is that the logical side of my brain has been very smug towards the rest of me today. That and my right foot looks like I have a hole gouged in it.
Once again my impulsivity has backfired on me and today has not been pleasant. I say this not to gross you out but to explain myself should you have caught me and my rather "unique" walk today and thought to yourselves "Why's she walking like a crazy person?"
It's not because I've taken a leaf out of the Monty Python handbook and developed a new walk. No, it's because of my own perverse and rather disgusting habits, so you needn't worry. If you did though... That was kind of judgemental don't you think? Who are you to tell me how I can and can't walk? Rachael-and-Claire-The-Bullies? I have enough judgement from them to last a lifetime!
Only kidding guys... Judge away!!
Sorry for being so gross.
Peace out my lovelies.
You see, last night, just as I was getting in the shower I spotted the mother of all blisters right in middle of the ball of my foot.
It was probably formed from all the walking I had to do on Sunday during my awesome day at Alton Towers. I remember being ready to amputate my feet by the end of that day.
This blister was so beautiful I simply couldn't help myself. I had to pop it. The logical part of my brain was telling me that I would regret this decision. It told me that due to where it was situated, there was no way popping it wouldn't hurt like a bitch. But I wouldn't listen.
A pull from my very core, fuelled by a rush of adrenaline and excitement forced me to abandon my shower and reach for my needle...
I'm not going to go into the details of it for the same reason I won't upload a photo. I don't want to repulse you guys, I kind of like the fact that you read my random crap, it would suck if you stopped.
All I will say is that the logical side of my brain has been very smug towards the rest of me today. That and my right foot looks like I have a hole gouged in it.
Once again my impulsivity has backfired on me and today has not been pleasant. I say this not to gross you out but to explain myself should you have caught me and my rather "unique" walk today and thought to yourselves "Why's she walking like a crazy person?"
It's not because I've taken a leaf out of the Monty Python handbook and developed a new walk. No, it's because of my own perverse and rather disgusting habits, so you needn't worry. If you did though... That was kind of judgemental don't you think? Who are you to tell me how I can and can't walk? Rachael-and-Claire-The-Bullies? I have enough judgement from them to last a lifetime!
Only kidding guys... Judge away!!
Sorry for being so gross.
Peace out my lovelies.
Tuesday, 12 July 2011
Watch out, I have a vicious side and she's chomping at the bit!
I like to see myself as a fairly liberal girl. I don't really take myself too seriously, or anything else for that matter. I spent far too much of my past being like that and I much prefer the attitude I hold now.
Having said that, if I do find something that annoys me then I tend to go to town on it.
I opened the paper this morning and read an article that has been getting me more and more irate as the day has gone. I thought I'd share this with you. Ladies and gents, I give you:
Lisa's nonce of the year.
This is what I read this morning. For those who can't access it (or simply can't be bothered to) let me summarise.
Her name is Holly. She's 19 years old and 5 months pregnant. She's also a complete and utter twat.
She's basically sold her story to the papers, stating that although she's pregnant, she feels she's too young to be. So instead of making some form of sensible choice like abortion or keeping it safe for 9 months and then adopting the child, she has decided to keep it but just pretend it's not there.
She has gone on record (with that smug smile of hers) and said the following 'makes-me-want-to-smack-her-round-the-head' comments:
- She plans on binge drinking 5 days a week whilst clubbing until the bump starts to show and then she will continue drinking at home.
- When asked why she would do that, she said that she worries she'll be seen as boring if she stops.
- When asked about the risk this is having on her baby, her direct quote was "I'm not an idiot, I know I might be doing my baby harm."
- The only time she seems to acknowledge she's pregnant is when she thinks she can get sympathy for it, blaming her hang overs as morning sickness and using her pregnancy as an excuse when she wants to eat double the amount she usually does.
This is a girl who will sacrifice her own child's health for the rest of it's life so that she can appear popular for 9 months.
Say it with me people... WHAT AN ARSE!!
I have friends who have been trying to be parents for ages. I have friends who can't have children at all. And here this girl comes rocking up showing off her 'oh-too-fertile' womb and announces to everyone how she plans on potentially destroying the life she is creating so that she can have a few drunken nights out.
I think the thing that gets me is how much it doesn't make sense. If she wanted to party and stay young and carefree, why didn't she have an abortion? I find it hard to believe that it's because she believes in the sanctity of the life of the child she's holding because... Well, you know.
If she did believe in that but still wanted the fun of teenage life, why not wait 9 months, give the kid to someone who will actually love it and then go back to getting smashed. I mean, how insecure does one person have to be to think everyone will abandon her within 9 months?
I would conclude that she just must be a masochist who takes joy in the odd torture but I don't think it's that deep rooted. I just don't think she cares. She could not give a rat's arse about anyone beyond her own selfish needs.
And that, ladies and gents, is why she is
Lisa's nonce of the year.
Rant over.
Having said that, if I do find something that annoys me then I tend to go to town on it.
I opened the paper this morning and read an article that has been getting me more and more irate as the day has gone. I thought I'd share this with you. Ladies and gents, I give you:
Lisa's nonce of the year.
This is what I read this morning. For those who can't access it (or simply can't be bothered to) let me summarise.
Her name is Holly. She's 19 years old and 5 months pregnant. She's also a complete and utter twat.
She's basically sold her story to the papers, stating that although she's pregnant, she feels she's too young to be. So instead of making some form of sensible choice like abortion or keeping it safe for 9 months and then adopting the child, she has decided to keep it but just pretend it's not there.
She has gone on record (with that smug smile of hers) and said the following 'makes-me-want-to-smack-her-round-the-head' comments:
- She plans on binge drinking 5 days a week whilst clubbing until the bump starts to show and then she will continue drinking at home.
- When asked why she would do that, she said that she worries she'll be seen as boring if she stops.
- When asked about the risk this is having on her baby, her direct quote was "I'm not an idiot, I know I might be doing my baby harm."
- The only time she seems to acknowledge she's pregnant is when she thinks she can get sympathy for it, blaming her hang overs as morning sickness and using her pregnancy as an excuse when she wants to eat double the amount she usually does.
This is a girl who will sacrifice her own child's health for the rest of it's life so that she can appear popular for 9 months.
Say it with me people... WHAT AN ARSE!!
I have friends who have been trying to be parents for ages. I have friends who can't have children at all. And here this girl comes rocking up showing off her 'oh-too-fertile' womb and announces to everyone how she plans on potentially destroying the life she is creating so that she can have a few drunken nights out.
I think the thing that gets me is how much it doesn't make sense. If she wanted to party and stay young and carefree, why didn't she have an abortion? I find it hard to believe that it's because she believes in the sanctity of the life of the child she's holding because... Well, you know.
If she did believe in that but still wanted the fun of teenage life, why not wait 9 months, give the kid to someone who will actually love it and then go back to getting smashed. I mean, how insecure does one person have to be to think everyone will abandon her within 9 months?
I would conclude that she just must be a masochist who takes joy in the odd torture but I don't think it's that deep rooted. I just don't think she cares. She could not give a rat's arse about anyone beyond her own selfish needs.
And that, ladies and gents, is why she is
Lisa's nonce of the year.
Rant over.
Monday, 11 July 2011
I'd get the buckets out for this one... just in case.
If I fall asleep in the middle of this post it's not because I've bored myself into a stupor (I hope), it's more likely due to the fact that I am completely knackered from yesterday's awesome but unbelievably packed schedule.
You see, yesterday was the birthday of my oldest friend in the whole world (in terms of how long I've known her, not in terms of how old she is (Claire-The-Bully and Rachael-The-Bully are far further in the lead with that one)).
I've introduced a lot of friends in my life to you guys over the months but alas this girl has yet to come up because in December I carelessly (for a second time) moved away from her and now I barely get to see her anymore. Her name is Oldest-Friend-Cafrin. I have known her for 15 years and in all that time we have never once had an argument. She is simply one of the most understanding, loyal and freakin hilarious people I have ever met.
She also has a four year old daughter who happens to be my God daughter. Her name is Chloe and that girl is AWESOME.
Yesterday we went to Alton Towers which (for those of you who aren't local) is miles away.
We went up the day before, stayed at a bed and breakfast and then spent the day in the massive theme park.
I've no doubt my God daughter loves me and she did tell me so on many an occasion yesterday, but unfortunately there is a little effect I tend to have on her whenever I get into a car with her.
This effect is not a pleasant one... For anyone involved. But for some reason, when Chloe sits behind me in long car journeys, she will decide that this would be a good time to projectile vomit across the car.
This, I'm assured, only happens when I'm there and last night she repeated the experience I was all too familiar with. This (bless her heart) set her into a state of tears, claiming that it was all her fault and she was so sorry. This of course being met with a series of reassurances from everyone in the car.
Just as the smell was reaching a point where I felt I might join her in emptying the contents of my stomach as well, we managed to get off the motorway and begin the clean up process.
The first time this had happened (when she was just 3 years old) we had managed to calm her down pretty quickly. Even to the point where she was able to turn her big brown eyes to Oldest-Friend-Cafrin and say "That was a little bit gross, wasn't it mummy?"
This time however, it took a little bit more convincing. Obviously I felt entirely guilty about this as it was quite obvious who was the common denominator in all this and so who's fault it truly was...
Poor girl will never get into a car with me again. Even if she wanted to, I'm pretty sure her dad Steve wouldn't allow it, his car's beginning to develop a permanent smell nowadays...
So there you have it, my reason for not having any kids of my own. It's not because of my crippling commitment phobias, it's not even (as it has been hinted) to spite my mother and gran. Nope, it's because my very presence makes four year olds projectile vomit.
You see, yesterday was the birthday of my oldest friend in the whole world (in terms of how long I've known her, not in terms of how old she is (Claire-The-Bully and Rachael-The-Bully are far further in the lead with that one)).
I've introduced a lot of friends in my life to you guys over the months but alas this girl has yet to come up because in December I carelessly (for a second time) moved away from her and now I barely get to see her anymore. Her name is Oldest-Friend-Cafrin. I have known her for 15 years and in all that time we have never once had an argument. She is simply one of the most understanding, loyal and freakin hilarious people I have ever met.
She also has a four year old daughter who happens to be my God daughter. Her name is Chloe and that girl is AWESOME.
Yesterday we went to Alton Towers which (for those of you who aren't local) is miles away.
We went up the day before, stayed at a bed and breakfast and then spent the day in the massive theme park.
I've no doubt my God daughter loves me and she did tell me so on many an occasion yesterday, but unfortunately there is a little effect I tend to have on her whenever I get into a car with her.
This effect is not a pleasant one... For anyone involved. But for some reason, when Chloe sits behind me in long car journeys, she will decide that this would be a good time to projectile vomit across the car.
This, I'm assured, only happens when I'm there and last night she repeated the experience I was all too familiar with. This (bless her heart) set her into a state of tears, claiming that it was all her fault and she was so sorry. This of course being met with a series of reassurances from everyone in the car.
Just as the smell was reaching a point where I felt I might join her in emptying the contents of my stomach as well, we managed to get off the motorway and begin the clean up process.
The first time this had happened (when she was just 3 years old) we had managed to calm her down pretty quickly. Even to the point where she was able to turn her big brown eyes to Oldest-Friend-Cafrin and say "That was a little bit gross, wasn't it mummy?"
This time however, it took a little bit more convincing. Obviously I felt entirely guilty about this as it was quite obvious who was the common denominator in all this and so who's fault it truly was...
Poor girl will never get into a car with me again. Even if she wanted to, I'm pretty sure her dad Steve wouldn't allow it, his car's beginning to develop a permanent smell nowadays...
So there you have it, my reason for not having any kids of my own. It's not because of my crippling commitment phobias, it's not even (as it has been hinted) to spite my mother and gran. Nope, it's because my very presence makes four year olds projectile vomit.
Thursday, 7 July 2011
Oh hi BTV. Welcome to my crib!
I have food in my house. It has been void of food for a while now... Like a decade. But last night, just before 9pm, a magical man in uniform arrived at my door with crates and crates of edible joy.
It feels so good! I can't stress how empty my cupboards have been. I even ran out of baked beans! I never run out of baked beans.
I was down to one can of tuna, a tenth of a bottle of Mayo, some slightly stale bread and a handful of pasta. That was pretty much it.
Oh, I did have a packet of 'Skips' crisps but they had gone off a month back. I was keeping them just in case it got that bad. Thankfully I was about a day off from hitting that level of desperation.
Anyway, I've now well and truly stocked the kitchen storage facilities of all the complex food a highly talented gourmet chef like myself needs.
Excuse me while I go and make myself a stunning and highly complicated meal of 'du pan au bacon' heavily soaked in 'la sauce brune'. That's how I roll.
Peace out my lovelies.
It feels so good! I can't stress how empty my cupboards have been. I even ran out of baked beans! I never run out of baked beans.
I was down to one can of tuna, a tenth of a bottle of Mayo, some slightly stale bread and a handful of pasta. That was pretty much it.
Oh, I did have a packet of 'Skips' crisps but they had gone off a month back. I was keeping them just in case it got that bad. Thankfully I was about a day off from hitting that level of desperation.
Anyway, I've now well and truly stocked the kitchen storage facilities of all the complex food a highly talented gourmet chef like myself needs.
Excuse me while I go and make myself a stunning and highly complicated meal of 'du pan au bacon' heavily soaked in 'la sauce brune'. That's how I roll.
Peace out my lovelies.
Wednesday, 6 July 2011
Younger-Brother-Daniel just doesn't stop. What's next? Drowning kittens?
Great. What a pigeon move. I've only been preparing in my head for yesterday for about a month and I go and sodding miss it!
Due to my pure incensed rage for Younger-Brother-Daniel's severely appalling and highly illegal theft/kidnap I completely forgot what yesterday's post should have been about. Now I'll never get that moment again.
You see, yesterday I posted my 100th post! Huzzah!! I feel that should mean I qualify for something... Like a certificate stating I'm a professional blogger or at least a slip of paper that says "Congratulations! You've wasted 100 nights of your life talking about crap!"
Hmmm, I like that idea. And there could be a little star in the corner with a smiley face...
I shall be waiting in anticipation by my front door for it's arrival.
As (due to Younger-Brother-Daniel's extreme rubbishness) I have missed this very rare occasion I'm not even going to dignify this post with a point.
See you at post 200 at an uuber party I shall organise to celebrate it!... Unless I forget again, in which case I'll see you at post 201 when I shall just re-post this one again.
Also please don't stop reading and then only come back on that post. Not only will that make me cry but how else will you know when I get there?
I love you.
Peace out my lovelies.
Side note to add... I just got home after writing this post and laughed heartily because posted back to me in a nice packaged envelope was this...
Okay Younger-Brother-Daniel you may have redeemed yourself a little with this one.
Wait... what do you call it when someone kidnaps a kid then happily gives them back??
...
Babysitting?
Due to my pure incensed rage for Younger-Brother-Daniel's severely appalling and highly illegal theft/kidnap I completely forgot what yesterday's post should have been about. Now I'll never get that moment again.
You see, yesterday I posted my 100th post! Huzzah!! I feel that should mean I qualify for something... Like a certificate stating I'm a professional blogger or at least a slip of paper that says "Congratulations! You've wasted 100 nights of your life talking about crap!"
Hmmm, I like that idea. And there could be a little star in the corner with a smiley face...
I shall be waiting in anticipation by my front door for it's arrival.
As (due to Younger-Brother-Daniel's extreme rubbishness) I have missed this very rare occasion I'm not even going to dignify this post with a point.
See you at post 200 at an uuber party I shall organise to celebrate it!... Unless I forget again, in which case I'll see you at post 201 when I shall just re-post this one again.
Also please don't stop reading and then only come back on that post. Not only will that make me cry but how else will you know when I get there?
I love you.
Peace out my lovelies.
Side note to add... I just got home after writing this post and laughed heartily because posted back to me in a nice packaged envelope was this...
Okay Younger-Brother-Daniel you may have redeemed yourself a little with this one.
Wait... what do you call it when someone kidnaps a kid then happily gives them back??
...
Babysitting?
Tuesday, 5 July 2011
Definition of irony? ... My face.
On Saturday my cousin got married.
A week prior, the most immense film came out on DVD.
I'm not kidding, if you haven't seen it then you need to. For more of my thoughts on this, check out my review.
Younger-Brother-Daniel rocked up at my house prior to the wedding with Older-Brother-Glyn and Marmie (mum).
He got dressed into his suit and noticed my copy of 'Never Let Me Go' placed (rather lovingly) next to my TV.
It's permanently there due to the fact that I'm in my honeymoon phase with the film at the moment. I watch it every night and sometimes, on days when I have the time, even twice in a row. I LOVE IT SO MUCH.
So with all that being said, you can imagine why I was reluctant to lend it to Younger-Brother-Daniel as I didn't know when I would next see him (he doesn't live close).
Younger-Brother-Daniel thought the concept of me not wanting to part with my DVD as ludicrous and he told me so... Quite animatedly... With fervent agreements from Older-Brother-Glyn and Marmie.
All the while, every time I tried to imagine parting with it, I felt a pull at my very core. It felt like what I would imagine parting with a child would be like. As I don't have children and am massively allergic to cats I think it's a suitable substitute.
Anyway, I kept my ground, apologised profusely for not being more helpful, adding that any of my other DVD's are available for loan. Just not this one... Not yet.
It became a bit of a long running joke throughout the day. I was called selfish and possessive but I grinned and bared it because I believed this was important.
Last night my brother Skyped me:
Younger-Brother-Daniel has been shortened to YBD.
YBD: So are you going to lend me Never Let Me Go or what?
Me: Oh! Did you want to borrow that? You should have said when you were here. I'd have been more than happy to lend it to you.
YBD: Oh is that so?
Me: (Sighs) If only I'd known.
YBD: Oh it's okay because I happen to have a copy here (holds up 'Never Let Me Go' to the screen).
Me: (laughs) Oh, so I take it you went out and bought-
I stop as my eyes fall on the empty space by my TV. I feel the blood leave my face.
Me: Is that actually my copy you're holding?
YBD laughs.
I hang up the phone.
Given that that's the closest thing I have to a child and Younger-Brother-Daniel swiped it when I didn't notice, that makes what he did kidnap. I'm not ashamed to say I cried a little.
Talk about losing something with such an ironic title.
...
I'm not talking to Younger-Brother-Daniel anymore.
A week prior, the most immense film came out on DVD.
I'm not kidding, if you haven't seen it then you need to. For more of my thoughts on this, check out my review.
Younger-Brother-Daniel rocked up at my house prior to the wedding with Older-Brother-Glyn and Marmie (mum).
He got dressed into his suit and noticed my copy of 'Never Let Me Go' placed (rather lovingly) next to my TV.
It's permanently there due to the fact that I'm in my honeymoon phase with the film at the moment. I watch it every night and sometimes, on days when I have the time, even twice in a row. I LOVE IT SO MUCH.
So with all that being said, you can imagine why I was reluctant to lend it to Younger-Brother-Daniel as I didn't know when I would next see him (he doesn't live close).
Younger-Brother-Daniel thought the concept of me not wanting to part with my DVD as ludicrous and he told me so... Quite animatedly... With fervent agreements from Older-Brother-Glyn and Marmie.
All the while, every time I tried to imagine parting with it, I felt a pull at my very core. It felt like what I would imagine parting with a child would be like. As I don't have children and am massively allergic to cats I think it's a suitable substitute.
Anyway, I kept my ground, apologised profusely for not being more helpful, adding that any of my other DVD's are available for loan. Just not this one... Not yet.
It became a bit of a long running joke throughout the day. I was called selfish and possessive but I grinned and bared it because I believed this was important.
Last night my brother Skyped me:
Younger-Brother-Daniel has been shortened to YBD.
YBD: So are you going to lend me Never Let Me Go or what?
Me: Oh! Did you want to borrow that? You should have said when you were here. I'd have been more than happy to lend it to you.
YBD: Oh is that so?
Me: (Sighs) If only I'd known.
YBD: Oh it's okay because I happen to have a copy here (holds up 'Never Let Me Go' to the screen).
Me: (laughs) Oh, so I take it you went out and bought-
I stop as my eyes fall on the empty space by my TV. I feel the blood leave my face.
Me: Is that actually my copy you're holding?
YBD laughs.
I hang up the phone.
Given that that's the closest thing I have to a child and Younger-Brother-Daniel swiped it when I didn't notice, that makes what he did kidnap. I'm not ashamed to say I cried a little.
Talk about losing something with such an ironic title.
...
I'm not talking to Younger-Brother-Daniel anymore.
Monday, 4 July 2011
And it turns out... I'm alive! Huzzah!!
Wow, that has to be the longest break I've taken between these posts. Sorry about that. Since Thursday night however I have found my social calendar fully booked. This is, in large part, because of this man.
This man is called Alwyn and in a complete moment of selfishness he has decided to kidnap his wife Lucy and emigrate to Australia...
Forever...
What a pigeon.
Problem is there are a lot of people who are kind of pissed that he is doing this because he's pretty awesome and shouldn't be taking his awesomeness out the country... He could have at least waited until we had done the Olympics.
But noooo, he doesn't care about making this country look good. Instead he would rather sod off to the other side of the world and make their country better. I mean come on! Don't they have enough? They already have Chris Lilly and Kylie Minogue. Taking Alwyn and Lucy as well is just greedy.
So Thursday, Friday and part of Saturday has been summed up in champagne, posing for cameras, and singing them off (whilst also bitching about them for abandoning us).
And because I'm emotionally stunted I have been on top form with my sarcastic remarks and witty insults, which I'm sure he has interpreted as "Yeah, I'll miss you man." Because who wouldn't get that from:
"Why are you still here?"
"Alwyn, it's 6:30pm. I've been stuck in the house all day, where the crap is my food?"
And of course
Me: Alwyn, fancy a drink?
Alwyn: Yeah, you got money?
Me: (Pulls out a twenty) Yeah, I'm set.
Alwyn: Isn't that the twenty I gave you earlier?
Me: ... You're welcome.
Because the man is in popular demand, one party wouldn't do. No, he's having 5. The first two were last week and then there's another this Friday - I'm working on actually showing emotion for this one... Yeah, I know. I don't see it happening either.
Tomorrow I'll tell you all about my Saturday! Yes my sudden social life us creeping me out too.
Peace out my lovelies.
This man is called Alwyn and in a complete moment of selfishness he has decided to kidnap his wife Lucy and emigrate to Australia...
Forever...
What a pigeon.
Problem is there are a lot of people who are kind of pissed that he is doing this because he's pretty awesome and shouldn't be taking his awesomeness out the country... He could have at least waited until we had done the Olympics.
But noooo, he doesn't care about making this country look good. Instead he would rather sod off to the other side of the world and make their country better. I mean come on! Don't they have enough? They already have Chris Lilly and Kylie Minogue. Taking Alwyn and Lucy as well is just greedy.
So Thursday, Friday and part of Saturday has been summed up in champagne, posing for cameras, and singing them off (whilst also bitching about them for abandoning us).
And because I'm emotionally stunted I have been on top form with my sarcastic remarks and witty insults, which I'm sure he has interpreted as "Yeah, I'll miss you man." Because who wouldn't get that from:
"Why are you still here?"
"Alwyn, it's 6:30pm. I've been stuck in the house all day, where the crap is my food?"
And of course
Me: Alwyn, fancy a drink?
Alwyn: Yeah, you got money?
Me: (Pulls out a twenty) Yeah, I'm set.
Alwyn: Isn't that the twenty I gave you earlier?
Me: ... You're welcome.
Because the man is in popular demand, one party wouldn't do. No, he's having 5. The first two were last week and then there's another this Friday - I'm working on actually showing emotion for this one... Yeah, I know. I don't see it happening either.
Tomorrow I'll tell you all about my Saturday! Yes my sudden social life us creeping me out too.
Peace out my lovelies.
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