Christmas presents I wouldn't even have thought of to ask.

My Christmas presents this year were epic. It was once again another reason for why I love my family and reminded me how I have been raised to be the person I am. 

To start with, I refer you to Younger-Brother-Daniel's Christmas present. He bought me something so awesome and quite frankly, unpredictable that I had no choice but to love it with all my heart. You see, Younger-Brother-Daniel bought me... A toilet brush. 

Yes. You read that correctly. And yes. That was the entire present. And yes. I loved it so much I wanted to cry. 

This wasn't just any toilet brush however (as if it could get any better). This was in fact an Edward Monkton toilet brush. As such it was named "The toilet brush of destiny."

I know right? 

Since moving to the new flat with Housemate-Anna we have found ourselves accumulating toilet brushes, so much so now I guess you could say we have now started collecting them (a fact Younger-Brother-Daniel was not aware of when he chose my gift). On point of move, our landlord had left behind a toilet brush, I brought one from my place and Housemate-Anna brought one from hers. As such we already had three toilet brushed lined up in our bathroom. 

However, due to the awesomeness that was this new toilet brush I did have to ring Housemate-Anna and tell her that all the old toilet brushes would have to be moved down the line because we now had a new Head Toilet Brush. She was initially reluctant as her old toilet brush was currently Head Toilet Brush and I'm sure she was worried about hurting it's feelings. However, when she saw the beauty of the toilet brush I presented to her last night, she had to admit it was awesome and as such, it has now taken pride of place on the front of our collection. 

This has brought on a new need within me now. I feel a new hobby arising. I shall now be one of those weird people who collect toilet brushes in my spare time. One more thing to add to "why my life is awesome" list. If you guys ever find an interesting toilet brush then please let me know. 

The other presents that made me love my family even more were two presents from my parents... And when I say my parents I mean Marmie. Father instantly refused to take any responsibility for these gifts. 

As myself, Younger-Brother-Daniel and Older-Brother-Glyn are now all living in our own places and therefore in charge of our own cleaning, my [clean obsessed mother] decided to help us out. As such, all three of us received two presents each wrapped up under the tree. 

First one:

Second one:

Marmie giggled like a school girl as we opened these. No doubt they'll come in useful. To prove to her that I have used them, I think I might have to take a picture every time I use one. 

So just for you Marmie:

Peace out my lovelies. 

I do love me some free wi fi.

I'm on a train. It has wireless access. I'm pretty sure that's a perfect reason to write a blog.

I'm impressed I made it this far today. Earlier, I was finding it near impossible to work out how to get myself off my sofa and get ready. This amounted in me going to my default place when I need to get motivated. I rang Marmie.

My train was due to leave at half four and I rang Marmie at around 12pm. As I expected, Marmie was close to having a panic attack when she saw me (over video call) still in pajamas. I assured her that this was a perfectly acceptable thing for me to be doing when I clearly had three hours before I needed to leave the house. Marmie didn't see it that way. Marmie is one of these people who will want to leave early enough not just to catch the train but so that we can sit in a train station for a couple of hours in order to make sure we don't miss it. Therefore, Marmie found it unbelievable that I wasn't already camped out there.

Although her preparation techniques have always seemed rather extreme to me, she still managed to get the right reaction out of me as I managed to get off the sofa and start to at least pack for the week. However, it did backfire slightly when this just moved me to the bedroom where I chose to sit on the bed to complete my conversation with my family. This meant that when I did eventually get off the phone I found that I was once again in a laying down position reaching for my twitter app...exactly in the same mode of procrastination I had been in all morning. Don't get me wrong, I love twitter with what is possibly my entire being but it does have a tendency to suck away at my time which should be reserved for real life things.

Anywho, I found my go to song today (Love on top - Beyonce) and realised that I simply can't stay sitting down to any part of that song. I'm not ashamed to say that I played it on repeat for two whole hours. It got the job done and I only slightly found it annoying by the end.

Marmie however, now that she found out I wasn't following her 'camped out at the train station' idea had it in her head that this meant I wasn't going to make it to Scotland at all and so requested regular updates as the day went on. All afternoon I received texts saying "Where are you now?"

Unfortunately, this amount of need of my attention tends to bring out the sarcastic side in me. As such I don't think she received a single serious text from me after that phone call. Still she never wavered, and fifteen minutes before the train was meant to leave the texts conversations resulted in this.

Marmie: R u on the train yet? (Yes, that's right, Marmie is down with the kids with her highly ghetto text speak.)
Me: Still at home.
Me: ...
Me: Kidding.
Me: I'm at the station
Marmie: Which station?

This was about where I gave up on her.

I then rung her to say that I was on the train and her first question was. "Who are you sitting with?"

I could hear Younger-Brother-Daniel laughing as I rolled my eyes.

"What?" She asked.

"You're so obvious!" Younger-Brother-Daniel called out.

"I'm just interested to know who my daughter is sitting for four hours with... Is it a man?"

"Yes." I said.

"Is he nice?"

"How would I know?"

"Is he young?"

"Fairly."

"Is he good looking?"

"Marmie, I'm not doing this with you."

Rest assured everyone, he seems a very nice man but he does give off this gay vibe... which, looking at my track record of men, probably means he's perfect for me.

Merry Christmas Eve everyone.

Peace out my lovelies.

A Christmas Tale: A Cannibal's story.

Okay I'm afraid to move in case I scare it away but I do believe I have caught, what the locals call, "Christmas Spirit."

I got to leave a whole hour early from work today and I got a Christmas card from a doctor who only started working here two days ago. Inside it said "thank you for all your help" and I realised all that fussing over her wasn't perceived as annoying but rather helpful... My OCDs win again! Huzzah!!

Tomorrow I'm getting a train to Scotland where the rest of my family have already started the festive celebrations. What's awesome about this is that there doesn't appear to be snow anywhere so the likelihood of me spending Christmas alone in England with nothing but a couple of bottles of wine and my own company doesn't seem to be that strong! I suspect Father Christmas had a word with the Weather man for me... That man always knows what to do!!

Also, Heinakroon gave me the best Christmas present ever by recommending me to the country of Finland!! It's amazing, I'm in a Finnish paper everybody! If I didn't know I would give up a week in I would even vow to learn the Language. Damn my short attention span!

Then Heinakroon went on to #FF me and I gained a whole three new followers. They're all like my favourites now and so far, five hours in, none of them have unfollowed me. I'm not going to lie, the pressure to keep them interested is giving me the shakes. So far, my way of dealing with this (without bribing them to love me with spare spitroasts) is just to hide in a corner, away from twitter. So far that has worked but I do wonder how long that will last...

If you are reading this for the first time and are not impressed so far then I do have a wide range of spitroasts to offer, all barely used as I like to rotate my choice of brand. I also make an awesome liver stew and kidney pie, all made from humans. Not only that, but humans who I really like so it's completely humane. All of my humans are allowed to roam free before I kill them for food, I'm not a monster. 

So... let me know if you want me to make you a batch. 

Merry Christmas. 

Peace out my lovelies. 

It's not lunch without a little bit of drama.

I started today in an incredibly rare moment of chipperness. This was down to Beyonce's 'Love on top.' I have been bouncing down the street, waving at random strangers and dancing with others all morning. 

Such was my delight over this song, I played it to Work-Buddy-James as we went out to lunch. If there has been any decision I have regretted entirely in my life it was this one. 

You see, it started out fine. Work-Buddy-James admitted that, even though he doesn't usually like Beyonce's songs, he had to admit this was a good one. I danced joyously in my seat to the upbeat tune as he drove the car. He then mentioned how he was tempted to undo my seatbelt and break suddenly so I ended up going through the window. I laughed nervously at his  very morbid dark side as I do every time it rears it's head. You know, it was a normal if not slightly chipper lunchtime. 

We ate lunch in a car park and sung some karaoke from YouTube videos, as you inevitably always do when you are in the presence of Work-Buddy-James. Things were fine.

Then Work-Buddy-James had an idea, one that ruined the whole lunchtime. As I had shared one song with him on the way up here, he would share some songs of his own with me.

However, these were not new songs, these were songs that he had shared on several occasions with me in the past. Songs that have been permanently engraved onto my eardrums so that sometimes, late at night, I wake up screaming to the sound of them in my head. 

He treated this experience like it was the first time he had ever played these songs to me. A fact I fervently countered amongst my desperate begs to not play the songs again. 

You see, Work-Buddy-James has this fascination with learning songs that are either 

A: In Chinese
B: A comprehensive list of things (eg: The animaniacs song listing all the countries in the world).
C: Both of the above (eg: A song listing all the tube stations in China).

As such he plays these songs and then proceeds to sing the entire song off by heart, looking at me for praise and admiration over how clever he has been in knowing random crap that probably took him the majority of the social life in his entire existence to perfect. 

Now I'm not saying I wasn't slightly impressed at this... The first time he sung it to me a year ago. However now we're on what feels like the 146th time and I simply don't have the energy to support this habit anymore. 

Not that that makes a tiny bit of difference:

Work-Buddy-James has been shortened to WBJ

WBJ: (Finishes singing the Animaniacs song) Ooh, have I played you the-
Me: Yes. 
WBJ: You'll love it. 
Me: For the love of all that is sacred, please do not play the China tube station song. 
WBJ: Ooh! I'd forgot about that one. (Searches for it on his phone)
Me: I'm begging you James. Please, let's listen to something else. Anything else. 
WBJ: But I know all the stations!
Me: I know you do James. 
WBJ: You're going to be really impressed. 
Me: I'm really not. 
WBJ: Here we go. (He plays the song)
Me: I hate you. 
WBJ: (He finishes the song) Now, what's next?
Me: (I see that he's searching through his Chinese playlist and so I pull his hand back) Please, for the sake of our friendship, stop. I honestly don't think we'll survive another song. 
WBJ: You played me your song. 
Me: I played you one song. You have been playing me your crap for half an hour!!

The car falls silent as we both face away from each other and look out the window

WBJ: You're not going to come out to lunch with me anymore, are you?
Me: If I'm perfectly honest, right now I don't know the answer to that. 

Later things eased off and we managed to waste 45 minutes talking solely about teeth, taking 20 minutes to count our own. In case you wondered - I have 16 on the bottom and 16 on the top. Work-Buddy-James has 12 on the bottom and 12 on the top. 

You know what they say... Every day is a school day. 

Peace out my lovelies. 

Wait... You're telling me it's Christmas this Sunday?

Is it just me or does it really not feel like Christmas is this week? Seriously, I have to get on a train for four hours on Saturday and I have not got my head around it at all. 

I was super efficient last Saturday and bought every single one of my presents in an hour and a half! Yup, you can say it. I'm freakin awesome. 

I fear that because I did it so quickly however, I've taken some of the magic away from the process and haven't allowed my brain enough time to fully comprehend the reason for me parting with so much money. 

Also, due to a drink mix up when I went out to Winter Wonderland on Sunday with Oldest-Friend-Cafrin and The-Goddaughter, I ended up drinking too much wine for what the day needed, as such that day went by in a bit of a haze... It's not like I was drunk or anything but I certainly wasn't planning to consume that much in one day. If anything it just made me sleepy. 

Anywho, people have been wishing me a merry christmas all week as they go off on their own holidays and every time my gut reaction has been, "why would I have a merry Christmas? It's not Christmas yet!" I soon realise that it pretty much is and then have to mentally chastise myself for being such a Scrooge. 

As such I've made plans tonight to sit cross legged in front of my Christmas tree for about five hours, stare at the ten year old tinsel and broken lights whilst chanting "It's Christmas, it's Christmas, it's Christmas, it's Christmas," over and over again until I have imprinted in my brain that it is meant to be the season of freakin good cheer and happiness and get into the sodding jolly mood associated with this time of year. Because if there's one thing I will never do is become a sodding grinch. I don't care how long and gruelling the process is. 

Merry Christmas everyone. 

Christmas time with The-Goddaughter.

Picture the scene: it's a crisp Sunday afternoon in central London. I'm out with Oldest-Friend-Cafrin and her entire family. We're sitting in a nice posh looking Weatherspoons. My beautiful stunning 5 year old Goddaughter sits opposite me looking positively angelic in her pigtails and pink coat. She's playing a game, I'm not too sure of the rules but it involves her telling me all the reasons why she loves me so my heart actually feels like exploding. 

"Lisa, I love you more in the whole wide world."

"Chloe, I love you more in the whole world."

(Yes I know the sentence doesn't make sense but as she's being really complimentary I didn't feel like it was the time to be correcting her grammar.)

"Lisa, I love you more than anything. Mummy I love you. Daddy, I even love you."

I grin my smuggest grin at The-Goddaughter's dad, Steve and mutter under my breath "It's like she loves you out of duty."

Steve shrugs like he's used to it and goes back to his dinner. 

"Lisa, I love you the most, I love you more than-" The-Goddaughter pauses at this point and her hand shoots up to her mouth whilst she looks guiltily to one side. She grinned and then in a small voice said "I just farted."

I laughed so loud that I'm pretty sure the whole restaurant jumped at the sound. This is why I love that girl. 

Peace out my lovelies. 

You scratch my back and I promise to never touch yours.

Not yesterday but the Sunday before, Housemate-Anna and I were sitting in the living room watching TV when I was suddenly overcome with an almighty itch on the bottom of my left foot. 

Not being able to resist a good scratch I absent mindedly put my nails to my skin and felt that almighty rush of satisfaction that can only come from scratching away a big itch. 

Housemate-Anna disappeared to the loo and I continued to scratch away. However suddenly the deep sense of satisfaction started to ebb away and in its place was a slight stinging sensation. I looked down and gawked in dismay as I realised I had scraped a significant patch of skin off my foot. 

Whilst I was still trying to get my head around the fact that I had unknowingly caused such damage to my foot, that slight sting began to grow... And grow... And grow. Suddenly I was experiencing pain unlike I had ever felt before. This of course just added more confusion to the situation as I still couldn't understand how this had even happened. 

The pain continued to grow until I had no chance but to yelp out in pain. 

"Lisa?" Housemate-Anna called out. "Are you okay?"

"Uhuh!" I just about yelped as the pain  grew to such a level that I had to jump up and move around just to give my body something else to do other than focus on it. 

Of course this just made it worse as I inadvertently put weight on the bizarre wound. This led to another yelp and me stumbling over our coffee table in a half hopping fashion, causing several items to fall onto the floor. 

I hopped/stumbled to the kitchen as fast as I could, grabbed a bag of frozen vegetables from our freezer and hobbled back to the living room, leaping over the coffee table and collapsing back onto or sofa again. 

Housemate-Anna returned back into the living room at this point and threw me a highly baffled look. There I sat, in exactly the same spot as she left me, except now my face was hot and sweaty, a manic look of pain flashed through my eyes, the contents on the coffee table were all over the floor and a bag of frozen vegetables was resting on my foot. 

"I was only gone two minutes!" Housemate-Anna said. 

"It hurts Anna, it hurts really bad."

"What did you do?"

"I don't know!" I cried out. 

For the rest of the night I was actually writhing around in the worst pain I have ever felt. Ever. Now this either means it was really painful or I've just never experienced real pain before... In my entire 26 years. 

Housemate-Anna helped me hobble to bed. She also got up at half one when the pain got worse again and she heard me running for the frozen vegetables once more (yeah, she's pretty awesome and, no, you can't have her, I found her first). She sat on my bed with me and talked about crap until the pain went away then finally I fell asleep. 

The next morning the pain was a lot better. I could just about walk on it so I went to work as per usual. I did the same thing Tuesday as well. 

Then Tuesday night, that same pain, the one that I'm pretty convinced is only reserved to those who are dying,  started to flare up again. 

I went to bed and fell asleep. I was then awoken by my foot pain four times in the night. By the time morning came I had woken up in a massive sweat. Not glistening as ladies quite often do... No, I was soaking wet. 

It was about this time that I figured there was something more sinister going on that a bag of frozen vegetables wouldn't be able to fix. I went to my GP and was informed that the mysterious appearing wound was now very infected and I would need to take antibiotics for the next week... I know... I have no clue what happened but I figured I'd be even more baffled if I ended up losing my foot to gangrene because of it. 

Antibiotics pretty much cleared it up but that was the drama of my stupid reactive body last week... It has always tended to have a mind of its own.

Oh and in case you were wondering where I was last week, you can blame Suzanne Collins and her Hunger Games for that one. I was in the land of Panem struggling with the huge question she poses in her books... Peeta or Gale? 

...

What? There's a deeper meaning to the whole thing than that? Really? Hang on, I'll read it again... See you in a weeks time. 

Peace out my lovelies. 

Random thoughts of a plum - 24 style. The following events take place between 5:50 and 6:40pm.

How is it possible that I have had such an action filled week and I have nothing to say tonight? I have been sitting with a vacant look on my face for the past ten minutes desperately racking my brain for something to write about and I have nothing...

An announcement has just come on, on the bus I'm on letting us know that CCTV is in operation throughout the bus. Is it wrong that my first reaction is "am I doing anything suspicious?" I've actually just ran through everything in my mind of what I'm doing, what's in my bag, what I'm wearing, how I look at the moment, do my eyes look particularly shifty? Where is the camera? What angle am I being shown at? 

After I did this for a while I realised just how paranoid I was... Or guilty... Except it wouldn't be guilty because my life isn't that interesting. There is nothing in my bag other than shoes and perhaps a few sweets from a few months ago... Actually if they're in there I might dig those out, my tooth is feeling rather sweet at the moment...

And now I've just missed my train. Damn. I'm going to be sitting here for ages now. That kind of sucks. 

Yes that's right, there is nothing else I can think to talk about other than a full running commentary of what I'm doing as I type...

...

...

Ah, I didn't really think that one out as now I am just sitting down distracting myself with writing my blog about how I don't have anything else to do except write a blog about writing a blog, which happens to be about me sitting and writing a blog. Oh dear, now I appear to be stuck in a blog paradox. Time and space is collapsing into itself as it no longer exists outside of this paragraph. I fear that writing about anything else will cause monumental damage in a quantum physical kind of way... Still waiting... If you're still reading this then it just proves you're about as bored as I am, also you are stuck reading about a blog which is about doing nothing and there's nothing else to do but read it because you are already doing nothing. Also... You really should know this blog will not be getting more interesting than this. All it's going to continue to do is go round and round until the headache you inevitably are gaining will get stronger and stronger until your brain explodes from the sheer weight of it. 

I want to add a disclaimer at this point. I have warned you that the blog is going to be crap from the beginning so if your head does explode then that is completely your fault. I am not going to be responsible for mass murder tonight. Trust me, I only own up to that when I've actually done it and why would I do that when I can't even get to you to eat your leftover carcass? Why??

I'm on the train now!! There's a guy opposite me who is wearing the same hat as me and he looks like Will Young. Yes, that means he's awesome. I've decided to call him Craig. Well done for having style Craig. I'll be sending you your trophy in the post. 

What else? Ummmm, there's a kid who was sitting in my favourite seat but he's just got off the train... I'm now wondering if it would be weird if I sat there... If anyone looks at me weird I could just roll my eyes and say "OCD."

Ooh Craig just looked at me! Do you think he knows I'm writing about him? Is there CCTV on this train as well? Is it broadcasting what I'm typing? Wait... Let me see if anyone nods at me when I look up, then I'll know they can see this. Hold on... Nope, either they can't see it or they're being deliberately unhelpful. 

Craig just yawned. Now I want to yawn. I'll do it on the sly so he doesn't know I'm copying him. Wait, never mind, he's got off the train... Now there are two Asian men sitting in his place. They don't look like Will Young... Just to be clear, they're not both sitting in his seat... I don't think they have that kind of friendship... Of course I don't know that for certain. I've been wrong before...

Aw, I miss Craig already. I wonder what he's doing now...

There's an advert asking me if I'm sitting comfortably. Apparently if I'm not then it means I have a bladder problem... Well this isn't the most comfy I've been... Does that mean I need to see my doctor about my overactive bladder? What qualifies as comfortable? Are you guys comfortable? If not you should probably go see someone about that. Get yourself an adult nappy or something. 

The asian (possible) couple have now left the train. I feel like I'm winning in the competition for staying on this train the longest. 

Ooh the guy that has now taken their place has a really nice coat. I should ask him where he got it from, maybe I could get one... On second thoughts, it looks quite expensive, I'll only be disappointed when I turn up and realise I can't afford it. 

Crap, I forgot to move to my favourite seat and now some girl in a cream coat and leopard print shoes is sitting there. What a bitch. 

One more stop to go. I'm going to stop this now as it has gotten old quite quickly. Thank you for being in my brain with me tonight. 

Peace out my lovelies. 

It's all a bunch of newness

Apologies for the lack of communication on this thing, but as I might have mentioned before hand, I moved this weekend to my new place. As such I have been highly busy doing very important things like installing internet access, getting our TV to work and decorating the flat in Christmas decorations before we have even unpacked...

There will be photos to follow with regards to my new beautiful home but in the meantime I would like to focus on the one new thing that arrived yesterday... my bed.

There was a lot of hassle with this bed. Hassle that involved me yelling at the delivery man over the phone yesterday morning because he was insisting that he was going to bring the bed early and I was (in a fairly animated fashion) informing him that we had only organised someone to watch the house between the hours of 1pm and 5pm and so there would be no one there to open the door. He was adamant that he wouldn't change his mind on the matter and so resulted in Housemate-Anna (yes she finally has a nickname) getting her mother to pass her trolley full of groceries to a man in Sainsbury's and run to our flat so that I wouldn't have to spend another night on the sofa. Needless to say, I was massively grateful for that one. Housemate-Anna's mum is awesome.

Anywho, once we had the bed in and I finally got home, I was a little irritable with the day. Housemate-Anna shared my sentiments. Luckily we had six wheels that needed to be hammered into the bottom of my bed. Guys, if you ever feel frustrated at the world, buy a double bed with the wheels not attached, grab a mallet and go nuts... granted, this is a long way round and involves a fair bit of preparation to get organised but I would say it's highly worth it in the end.

Once we had assembled the bed and we had high fived each other for being awesome independent women who could totally assemble a bed without any help from the 'man' (and by 'man' I mean Housemate-Anna's boyfriend Karl), I then noticed that in one of the inbuilt drawers in the bed's main frame, there was some extra material. Thinking that this was important and therefore highly in need of my immediate attention, I attempted to crawl into the little drawer space so that I could reach them.

"What are you doing?" Housemate-Anna asked.

"There are pieces of random fabric in here, I simply have to get them as they match the bed's material and so must be important." I called back to her as I squeezed my boobs through the small compartment.

"Where would they go?" Anna asked.

"I have no idea," I answered.

I grabbed a hold of them and sighed with satisfaction as I knew I had achieved my goal.

It's at this point in the story I should probably mention what it was that I was wearing as it is rather integral to the continuation of the tale. You see, I was wearing a thin grey top with a black waistcoat over the top. This waistcoat had silver metal buttons. These metal buttons, when I tried to pull myself out of the bed again, decided that they liked it inside my little cabinet and decided to all grip hold of the inside and not let me out.

This, ladies and gents, is how at 7:30 last night I found myself lying face down on my bedroom floor with half of be submerged in bed frame whilst the bottom half wriggled aimlessly on the floor.

"Um Anna?" I said.

"Did you get the material?"

"Yep, no problem with that." I pulled fruitlessly again. "I'm just not too sure if I can get out."

"Don't be silly Lisa, of course you can... just wiggle a bit more."

"I am wiggling!! I've wiggled, I've pushed, I've pulled!... I think my waistcoat is stuck."

Housemate-Anna laughed.

"How is that helpful?" I asked.

"I'm sorry, but you should see what I can see, you look hilarious!"

I wiggled some more. "Okay, I'm really stuck. I think I'm going to need your help."

"What do you want me to do?"

"I need you to wrap your arms around me inside the cabinet and pull my waistcoat down."

"There's no more room for me to get in there!"

"Try Anna! Otherwise I'm going to be stuck in here forever!"

There was a pause whilst Housemate-Anna considered this. "Okay, I'll try."

Housemate-Anna then wrapped her arms around me and slid them through the gaps in the cabinet. She got hold of my waistcoat and pulled. With a sigh of relief I heard the buttons break free of the cabinet. All that was left was for me to pull myself out.

I tried.

I tried again.

And again.

Housemate-Anna had her arms around my waist now. Her foot was wedged in front of the frame to give her some power and both of us pulled. Nothing happened.

After a minute of this, we stopped trying and both collapsed... well I collapsed as much as I could do given that I was already face down on the floor. Anna was laughing, I was somewhere in between laughter and tears and, whats more, I was knackered... You ever get that? Where you've gotten yourself stuck, you know you need to get out of that place but the idea of trying is so knackering that you figure... I could probably stay here... I'm sure I can find a way of working from home in my little cabinet and at least I'm lying down...

"Lisa, we need to get you out of there."

I sighed.

"Okay, one more go."

And so Housemate-Anna placed both feet against the bed frame, I had my arms pushing on the floor of the bed and with one final pull... out I came...

At least I know, for the future, that I don't fit into that bed frame. Next time I need something in there, I'm sending Housemate-Anna in. She's tiny.

Peace out my lovelies.

It's the month of fat men, mistletoe whores and the baby Jesus.

Happy 1st December everyone. Ready to spend loads of money and eat loads of food so that you spend the entire of January broke and fat? So am I! Bring on the festivities!

Yes, we have reached the time of year where we accessorise in a multitude of green and red and become a load of mistletoe whores. Huzzah!

It is also that time of year where we listen to the same old songs that come out every year. Those same songs that get right under your skin if they appear on your iPod shuffle mix any other time of year, but for some inexplicable reason you deliberately play on repeat for an entire month. 

It is also the time of year where the classic movies come out that make you sigh after you've seen and say "Now it's Christmas." They vary depending on the family you grew up in. For me however, it's "The muppet christmas carol" with a little bit of the new "Miracle on 34th street." Yes, that's right, I said the new one (which really isn't that new anymore as it's from the 90's). I know people might think that this choice is controversial over the classic black and white version but I am a child of the 80's/90's and as such I have my loyalties. That and Father Christmas is played by Richard Attenborough and who doesn't love Richard Attenborough? That bit where she pulls on his beard and lets out a squeal of surprise still makes my heart jump and my expression match hers. 

Anna-(Nickname-TBC)-Tidey hasn't seen either of these movies so I shall take great joy in introducing them to her. She doesn't seem as excited about the prospect but she's agreed to live with me and this is a part of me so she has no choice... She also can't take back her decision because we signed a contract for a year and that thing is actually binding so she is stuck with me and is going to love every moment of it by law.

Also, by moving in with me she automatically gains celebritydom in the world of the Internet because every action she will make from now on will be heavily documented in this blog and at least 0.00000001% of the Internet reads it which means she should probably start practicing her autograph now. 

Also who really needs privacy? She doesn't, that's for sure. 

Wait, I digressed... This wasn't what I was talking about at the start... Oh yeah, Christmas... Ummmm... I've run out of things to say about that. 

I'm going to go and search for the Christmas Coca Cola advert and practice my "holidays are coming."

Peace out my lovelies.