You know those random brain wave patterns, boring stories and general ramblings that you find hysterical but most of your friends don't.
Well this is my publicised version of all of those and more usual shit and brain sick.
I often see a lot of press about American Apparel's new advert campaigns, and they seem to get worse and worse.
Originally the companies thesis for advertising and catalogue photos were supposed to be real life workers for the company, without make-up in a basic fashion and this I thought was a great thing. Real life people looking like, real life people. Alas when the company got popular (about two or three years ago), the ad campaigns got more professional and more sex based. I get that sex, controversy and shock sells, of course they do but how pathetic do they think the public really is? Personally, I feel a little perverted looking at them.
Following are some clips of recent and old ad campaigns by American Apparel:
I think my biggest issue with the campaigns is that I love American Apparel. I have ever since I first found them. I always recommended them to my friends for cost effective, well made, ethnically reliable basics. I used to describe them to my friends as the Marks and Spencers for a younger generation, then they went all retro, which was fine, as the basics were still great but now with perverse advertising campaigns, it all seems a little shocking on purpose, which makes me not want to like them, which almost seems churlish. But what can you do when a company which once had a brilliant ethics then goes for the cheap shot?
I've spent many days, weeks and years searching for photo blogs, like I've said before "I love photos", so have decided to create my own "oh, why not?".
Please click here to Snappy Flasher to see them. They'll be added intermittently and also, some of them are old but I love them nevertheless.
A while ago, Axl mentioned that he was hitting the 'next blog' button. I was stunned, I'd been blogging for how ever many months and had never noticed it. So I started my hitting of it. It's great fun but often comes to a dead end, due to the button being removed or people having commercial blogs where they want you end up.
I love photos, I adore photos. I love paintings but I love photos. If any of you have been to my house, you'll have seen my 'hall of fame' which is a wall of photos in our hallway. I love taking photos and I love looking at them. Regardless of what the photos are of, I adore them. I often enjoy going to Magnum Photographic Essays and browsing through the millions of photos and listening to the photographers to hear about what they were aiming to catch and what they got.
Any how, it was rather quiet at work recently, so I started to hit the button. My original intention was to find some amateur photo blogs to enjoy, something new and refreshing, instead of the over photoshopped wonders you often find online. Something to truly capture my imagination. Art (I'm using the word art in a loose term, where I mean it to be paintings, photography, collage, etc.) is one of the only things that can move through this world, with no requirement of cultural understanding or language.
I clicked alot and I found a few photo blogs that really caught my attention, but there is one at the end of this, run of photos that I really liked. I also found some random blogs and some rather adoreable blogs. Photos and links below. Some were photos I liked, some were blogs I liked the look of. I've credited the blogs with the links and titles below...I hope you enjoy them!
A photo a day It's been done before, they aren't incredible photos, it's simply a lovely little view of someone else' world. Some photos are quite remarkable and others are comical. Some have nice perspective/composition and others have interesting lighting. I just love the amateur, almost naive sense of it. I think it's generally rather charming...
For some reason, abortions here aren't as big a topic as in the States. I'm not sure why this is, maybe due to us being a smaller country, or having less fanatics, or maybe because we're an older country we generally believe that people's choices are their own, so therefore their choices are personal, or maybe it's because we can get them on the NHS and the departments are such a part of the hospital, it would be hard to have fanatics scaring away, already scared individuals. Who knows?! Different people, different beliefs, different systems - it's generally hard to compare or work out why this is.
I know people who have had them, I know people who have accompanied someone to have one, I know people who don't believe they are right and I know partners who have been effected by them. It's a personal issue and one for the individual to choose and no one elses decision. Everyone has a right to believe what they do and everyone has a right to have an opinion on their friends' choices, they also have a right to share with that friend, if they wish too, but they do not have the right to expect the friend to agree or believe these opinions.
Although, talking about them is still seen as a taboo subject. I've had chats with numerous friends about them and it's always in hushed tones, quiet corners or private rooms. We all know they happen but none of us want to talk about them, they are the elephant in the room.
So how come some a lot of fanatic American's believe that they have the right to tell a complete stranger that they are wrong and that they'll go to hell for what they are doing or have done. They have no right, it's their opinion but they should keep it to themselves, unfortunately they don't.
There is now a group of escorts who try to help the women who are in these horribly confusing and emotional times to get them in to the clinics without to much disruption and I salute these people, they are doing something truly wonderful to help people, rather than heed them and for that I think they all should get a medal. It can't be easy. I imagine some of these pro-lifers are as manic as some of the anti-animal testers we've experienced here in Oxford and that's a pretty horrid thought. They risk themselves everyday to assist these women, allowing them to be able to continue with the life they chose, instead of the life they nearly had to live.
Every morning on the drive to work, I think about things I'd like to blog about, it might be on the news, recent events in my life or things I see. I do this most mornings, well most mornings when I'm awake enough to process anything other than driving and not killing myself or any one else. And most mornings I get to work, get distracted and then forget all about the funny anecdotes and comments and am left with just drivel.
This morning I remembered most of them, so here they are: I witnessed bunny genocide this morning. Road kill of animals is inevitable, they've no idea what us big shiny things are or that we can kill them, they've heard the rumours but they forget easily. I remember Watership Down, they just have to risk it. But this morning was horrendous! While driving along the A415 (I looked this up, I'm not that good) I witnessed the first poor dead bunny and thought "oh dear", and then about ten feet further, another one and then another one and another...you can see where I'm going with this, it was as though someone had coaxed them in to the road and then mowed them down or maybe it was a joint bunny suicide to stand against us humans and our killing of the planet, god knows but it was horrid.
I was listening to Fleetwood Mac this morning on the way to work, working on my driving dancing, got the 'one handed jazz hand while changing gears' down! But I did notice that I sing 'Little Lies' as though I'm Eliza Doolittle, I've no idea why but I do! It makes for entertaining listening, no seriously it does!
There are some fantastic traffic lights on Culham Bridge. They have the longest exposure in the world, they are a bitch to sit at, as you know you're there for the long haul if you get caught, I'm not joking or being over dramatic, they are red/green for about two minutes (in traffic world, this is ages) but they also have sensors to check the bridges are clear (personally I remember when it was two way with no footpath, it was dangerous but that was yonks a go). So, if you get caught by them, you're there for eternity, I've sat there for the duration of a song once, as regulars to the bridges all cheat and fly over on red, when you do fly over on red (I may have done it once, or twice, or three times, maybe a few more times but not many more, honest), you always hope the person behind you does too, so you're not cheating alone, stupid I know but solidarity within drivers. The point of this passage is that on the way to work, if I hit the High St in Culham and the lights are green and most of the drivers have gone through, I like to drive at 30mph to try and get through, on the way home I'll speed but on the way to work, I'll drive at the right speed (it's a personal thing, I've no idea why and it makes no sense). But it's like a personal triumph if I can make the green lights going at the legal speed, I can do anything at a normal speed and should therefore slow down once in a while, I think it's the whole tortoise and the hare complex.
This passage is something that grates me. I'm a keen believer in common courtesy, most of my friends know that I'm obsessive about saying please and thank you and if I don't or forget, I'll wind myself up about it. I just think that common courtesies are free and can make or break someone's day, I know how I used to feel working at Waitrose and someone being rude could set off a chain of rudeness within myself. I know that the one cardinal rule of life is "do not judge others by your own standards", you'll generally end up depressed, but thank you and please are just so important within life. When I had my party, I thanked everyone who gave me a present or showed some kindness, by sending them a postcard of thanks. They did a little gesture towards me, so I wanted to show that I'd noticed and appreciated it, not much but something. Recently I did quite a large favour for someone and I've heard no word of thanks from them. I got appreciation from others and acknowledgements from others but no thank you from the person I did it for. Am I'm being out of order to expect one. Maybe they just don't do that sort of thing, I mean, this person is generally within their own world and I can never work out of it's ignorance or oblivion which drives them, they always state that they are oblivious but I'm starting to think it's actually ignorance, which I hate to think but after so many times of doing things and getting nothing, it's hard not to be so rude. I just don't think saying thank you isn't that hard and is important in life.
Lastly, I watched a charming indie film (is it just me who finds the term "indie film" offensive?), in fact due to my hating of that term, I'm going to call it a charming little independant film, called "In search of a midnight kiss", it's basically about "this dude", who has had a shitty year and is looking for someone to share New Years Eve with, because it's a lonely time for us singles, boo hoo, I may never leave my house again kind of depression, well he meets "some bird", through a Craigslist ad (american website for sad lonely people, where you can list anything! It's like a free eBay of everything including people and items or maybe more like gumtree. Plus there is this other dude in America called The Craiglist Killer, I love how killers in America always have titles but that's for another time). But it's funny, charming, witty, mental and rather adorable. I loved it all. P.S. "This dude's" (the one in the film, not the serial killer) personal advert is the type of ad I'd love to stumble across
Here is the ending of the film, with the cast singing "Wind of Change", if you want to skip the final monologue, skip 1 minute in:
I ended up watching this programme the other day and it made for compulsive watching. One of the girls constantly looked pissed off. Another was her mother's mini me and the final one did it because she wanted to feel more confident. Out of the three mums, two of whom were living through their kids, only one had the right idea, she wanted to help her child.
One of my favourite parts was the born again Christian who asked her congregation to pray for her daughter to win the pageant (not exactly what God tells us to do with prays) and then when the daughter doesn't win a sausage, her sister blames god, well that is what I call a balanced upbringing.
And personally, I think that fake tans, plastic surgery, contact lenses, highlights and acrylic nails all consist of child abuse!
Apparently I only existed for 8 years, a little less than I actually have (some probably wish I'd only lasted 8 years), this is amazing, I've reached 27 years of age and never knew and it never got brought up in conversation. I've had the Home and Away comments and the wife of Angus Deaton in One Foot In The Grave was also called Pippa but my own doll, oh how exciting!!!
Is it wrong to admit that I like Kenneth Branagh? I know he's not cool but I think he is rather marvellous, although only when it comes to Shakespeare. I'm unsure if he's able to act in the modern tongue, golly who knows?! Maybe he'd be good. I need to get my Lovefilm list in check and find out. I shall report back. As for Lovefilm, I'm still completely addicted to it. My list hasn't ever reached below 100, there are just too many films in the world to watch... I was speaking with a friend the other day, about how I'd love to work for them and be a picker. I have always thought that everything I get sent, is selected by an individual who has looked at my list, and the availability of films, and decided what to send me. I guess this is just a silly romantic idea of mine, as my friend believes it's all done by computers, which would make more sense, but it's an awfully boring way to do it. Plus at halloweeen I get sent horrors and at Christmas, I get sent classics, maybe it's an extremely intelligent computer.
Although if pickers do exist, it's now on my job for a week list, with: HGV driver, tour guide for a stately home, meerkat keeper, air hostess, pole dancer and coroner.
A while back, my housies and I were trying to work out if we were custard cousins. I know it's a horrid term and a horrid thing to do but I was interested. Luckily for me, one of my exes was a huge slag - his sleeping with most of Oxford made it pretty easy for me to be linked with more people than I'd like to mention but needless to say, it meant that within 5 minutes, I'd been linked to Mr Chicken. Also means, that I'm possibly linked to Mr Chips also. I think that is where it stopped though, we could link our old housie with Mr Chicken also but that was as far as we got. What makes this easier for us, is that we've socialised and worked in and around similar places for quite a few years. A little like doing it at the end of your university years, instead of the beginning. I wouldn't recommend this game while sober, it's far too sick and gross to try to comprehend while sober, while drunk however, it's quite funny.
In other news, I've been having eBay fun recently, it wasn't planned but I'll take it while I've got it. There was a huge requirement for cushions at my house, so I bought some inserts and have been having sewing fun with some lovely materials, we'll soon have some awesome cushions in our house, although currently my bedroom looks more like a haberdashery, than a bedroom, must remember to pick up those pins. Also, while on eBay, while looking for cake stands, I ended up buying a pattern for a cute 70's smock dress. Which I intend to make and wear to a party, someone at work is hosting. Fingers crossed i get some time next week to actually make it, other wise it'll be back to the drawing board and the back of my wardrobe. I've also finished my pink and flowery bunting, there is about 8 meters of it, but it's so cute! Photos to come soon...
Normally when I go quiet on here for a while, it's for a couple of reasons: I've started a relationship with someone and I've no time to brush my teeth, let alone think about writing something, or I'm content! Recently it's been the latter. I had a glitch, I got a little blue and felt rather alone and then I got over it, picked my self up and dusted myself off. Am now so ridiculously happy and content, it's scary. (Other than my little over dramatical outburst related to money last week, that is).
When I'm content I've not the energy to write my rants down, due to being to blissed out. I do rant (don't get me wrong) but it's all verbal, like most of my brain sick. So here are a few rosy sentences about stuff...
My house currently has about two gallons of jelly in it. Chips' girlfriend (The divine Miss Katie) finally called him on his quote of "if someone gave me a vat of jelly, I'd have to put my face in it", well it was his birthday. It took two manly men to carry it in to our house and three weedy girls to struggle it in to my car. It's amazing. Tastes so good and looks incredible. It's just, other than jelly wrestling, what do you do with gallons of jelly with fruit in it? My job at the party was decorating committee. We borrowed a gazebo from Mr Mole, hooked up fairy lights inside it, placed tea cup candles everywhere and pulled part of the sofa outside to sit in it. It seemed rather popular with the guests. We also changed the photos in our toilet around, so Chips featured in all of them, this made most guests laugh. But did make one guest vom in our sink, which is the littlest sink in the world! Brilliant night all in all though, Chips felt like a king and everyone had fun. We partied for a good 13 hours and drank the entire fridge of booze.
People truly amaze me. On Monday I was sat in rush hour traffic at some lights. We sat there for about 5-10 minutes and I finally decided to go the long way home, I hate sitting in traffic. I got in the other lane and realised that a lady had broken down at the lights and was unable to move, her hazard lights weren't working either. So I did what I'd expect someone to have already done, I pulled over and asked if she needed any help. She said she'd called someone and they'd be there in an hour. So I suggested that we pushed her car on to the kerb, therefore allowing the traffic to flow. She looked pretty puzzled by this. I explained that if we had a couple other people help us, we could push it while she steered. At which point a nice man, tattooed from head to foot, offered help, as did the man in the car behind her. We succeeded and the traffic continued to flow. I thanked the men and carried on my way. Why oh why it took 10 minutes and me to ask, is beyond me, what if she didn't have a phone or was having some form of medical issue?
I was told the other day that when the next monarch comes in to power, that the head on the coins will change direction. Yet the notes and stamps will stay the same, facing to the left. At which point does the Mint start printing the new coins? Do they keep constantly updated profile cuts of the next monarch on file (I mean, the next monarch is going to be incredible busy around the time of their parents death and their own coronation etc). What happens if the next monarch doesn't want to face left?
The other day I received a package from a friend in LA who works for a material company. She had sent me some cuts of the material I'd asked for. This made my day and week, as it was just after my extremely theatrical outburst. Simone made my whole week in fact. I've been pondering about what to make with them and I think I've finally decided. There is this awesome circus material and I originally thought kitchen curtains would be genius but have since decided that a cropped jacket, is the way to go. Am now on the hunt for the perfect pattern. It'll be so so adorable. Still completely unsure what to make with the rest of them though? On another note, Simone is Australian but lives in LA and has never heard of, or tasted Salad Cream - I shall rectify this on her next visit to Blighty.
On a similar note of sewing, I used my overlocker yesterday and made adorable English bunting out of numerous pink/flowery materials. I've also ordered some cushion inserts to make some huge cushions. All these things are going towards Nina's birthday party. Which is my next decorating committee project.
I've turned in to one of these people. You know the type of people who stop and get out of their car and move items from the middle of the road - this is me!
I used to only keep this sort of behaviour to the village I grew up in. But now, oh deary me, it's spread. I'm constantly stopping (only if it's safe) to remove items from the road. In the last month, I've moved numerous rolling bins and recycling bins and the other day, I picked up a hitch-hiker!!! ?
He was a car delivery guy and I always see them and they look so sad, just waiting or walking down the side of the road and he was quite old. Picture the scene, I'm on my way to work, it's about 1.30pm. Hit the Oxford ringroad and on a piece of duel carriageway is an old chap holding out a little sign. Needless to say, his actions were dangerous 'full stop' - it's a massive black spot of accidents. So I drive on, thinking, I'm a lone girl in a car, he could be a nutter and then I remembered, I lived in Oxford and bad things don't happen in Oxford. So I left the road at the next exit, looped back on myself and picked him up. He was awfully grateful.
He was from Brum. Had already dropped off one car in Banbury and had hitched all the way to Oxford. He was now headed out East. I was planning on dropping him off at the next roundabout (aptly named "Golden Balls") but when he said he was headed to Wallingford, in typical Country style* I said "oh, that's quite close to where I'm going, I'll drop you off at your destination". It turned out that his destination was the other side of Wallingford by the Henley turning, up a road I was unable to access and his sat nav wouldn't give an alternative route (why people rely on these things is beyond me, I'm a maps girl all the way). I ended up dropping him off at the end of the no entry road and carrying on to work - 20 minutes late. But I did a good deed which is what counts and hopefully made his life a little easier. Although work seems a little bemused by this excuse.
Then two days later, there is a massive branch in the middle of the road, everyone is going around it, no one can be bothered to get out and move it, so I start to slow down, when i see a girl sprinting down the road. I stop, allowing her to cross and she clears the debris. I was so impressed. Good for her! I only hope the next time I'm moving things, someone thinks "good for her" about me.
*Country style relates to that fact that most of us in the Countryside hear that someone/thing is within 5-10 miles of where we are heading and we see no problems what so ever with just going that little bit further. I guess it's the whole mentality that we're already in the car and everything is at least 2-3 miles away.
I've finally realised what I'm looking for in a partner.
I need someone who reads the weekend papers, so that I can read the supplements. Job done - am believing this shouldn't be too hard, not really. I mean, there are plenty of men out there who actually read the weekend papers, cover to cover or there abouts. I just need to find one who can put up with me and my ways, I'm attracted too and who entertains me.
On second thoughts, this could be harder than I originally thought!
It appears to me that I have a pretty rubbish selection of male friends who find it impossible to keep female friends, once they get girlfriends. Some of these guys know they do this, so give little disclaimers about the situation and others have no idea and just choose to ignore all general communication and forget who we ladies are.
I can always tell when this is happening to such friends, as they start to not message off their own backs, don't respond to messages sent and when they do respond, most communication is curt to say the least. This is in itself frustrating but to have to do the maths yourself is even more irritating. Being a stupid girl, I some times think that when people don't respond to messages, it might be something to do with me (why this is my second thought, is beyond me, stupid girly brain), alas when they do eventually reply, it's short and needless of response, I instantly know there is a girl present in their life. At which point I lessen most communication and await their acknowledgement of being a shit friend. This normally happens the first time a fight happens or if they break up. If there is no such thing, I await the news that a baby/wedding is on the way and I wave goodbye to my friendship.
I know this isn't always the case, I've many male friends who have managed to keep me in their life but a lot of them seem to think you're not allowed friends or freedom, when in a relationship. I normally don't expect to hear from my friends (female or male) for at least 3 months when they start out in a new relationship. It's only fair to expect nothing from them during the beginning. If they are totally in love with the new person in their lives, I give them another 3 months, after which I hope they'll remember us lot and get in touch. Most do and then we all carry on our merry way.
I just will never get people who think that being in a relationship, means you've no need to friends anymore. It's bollocks! I will always need my friends. Regardless of how amazing the person who I date is. Maybe I'm backwards but I expect most of my partners to appreciate what my friends have done for me in the past and not mind when I've got to go running to them for whatever reason. Maybe this is why I'm currently single but I'd rather be this way and end up with someone who knows what I'm like from the offset, than make out that I can be 100% committed to a relationship and that my friends don't mean that much.
In other news, the new Ford KA is horrid! For some reason, they've cut and shut a Renault Megane and an old KA together - it's ugly as sin! Why they insist on taking sleak lines and making them all bulked up and steroid shaped is beyond me! Go back to design school!
P.S. I wish they'd done some of the Democratic's too. Especially John Edwards, who is a smug git, mainly for getting away scot free for cheating on his wife and getting the "other women" pregnant and walking away. And who does his wife blame? Obviously the silly bitch who tempted her husband!!!
I was made to watch American Idol last night. I didn't want too but was eating dinner at a friends and she's a fan. The shows starts, misty screens, orange skin and whiter than white teeth.
Then my friends favourite comes on. He's the childish emo looking dickhead, with a face that needs a large dent in it, to be improved. Everyone screams, everyone loves it, the judges (two of whom, I've no idea who they are), Paula and Simon, plus the host come in to view and they start to discuss the songs the three contestants will be singing.
Simon Cowell with his awful hair and whiter than white teeth announces that he's selected a U2 song for this irritating kid. Boasts about some personal confirmation from Bono (Please let's try and remove this hypocritical wanker from the face of the earth. Old U2 good, modern U2 - irritating!), and off the shows goes with an awful rendition of one of my favourite songs, One.
In typical American television fashion, they make the song theatrical, epic and generally destroyed it in 2 easy minutes!!! A once beautiful, calm, serene, emotional song has now been adapted to a horrid, screechy, cretinous rendition!
I now want to really punch this kid in the face. And the fact that the judges spend the next 1000 seconds gushing about how amazing it was, I'm sorry, you what?
This is why I hate most American TV "talent" shows - where's the remote?
Ok, ok, so I know that the guy I'm going to link too is a complete and utter arse! He's a egotistical, big headed, nasty, horrid little man but I think I'm in love with him.
Most of his stories start with: Stage 1: a repulsive air, full of big headed, attention grabbing bullshit, with the occasional hysterical and also, horrendous one liners which floor people with such disbelief, it's pretty incredible. Stage 2: he and his friends attempt to pull several "hotties", normally succeeding to a certain level but also failing to a comical standard. I've read numerous stories of his now and am amazed he's ploughed any tail at all. Stage 3: Final admittance to failure. Continuing the party somewhere else. Stage 4: They all end with either the "inevitable" (in his world only) puking or shitting his pants.
The guys is a genius! I don't, necessarily, condone his behaviour but also the fact that he writes most of his stories in the future, with a hindsight view. The ability to quip himself and his friends. The fact he can see that some of his past actions, weren't big or clever, are cruel but are inevitably rather funny, means that at least he's grown up some what. But most of his one liners (once the cruel blast at unassuming passerbys have pasted and he actually applies himself), floor me! Some are old classics, some are new, quick witted and intelligence. God knows, if he actually said them there and then or added them to the story afterwards for affect but his story telling is at least entertaining, even if for all the wrong reasons.
Anyhow, I think my favourite of his stories so far, is the one about trying anal sex for the first time. Too too funny!
I guess it's time for you to decide, if you choose too. He's a dick but his stories make me cringe, feel queasy, horrified and also laugh, normally out loud.
My boss got sent a clip of a guy trying to drive on Salvia. For those of you who do not know, I didn't until yesterday, Salvia is a psychedelic drug in the States. It's legal, and generally the trips only last for a few minutes or so...
But I think my favourite of his attempts to get work done on Salvia, has to be his writing a letter to congress. If he actually mailed it, I'd have loved to see the senators face upon opening it.
Remember kids, it's not big and it's not clever but it is quite funny.
This paragraph of an article about people who have been banned from entering the UK tickled me some what.
Although, we now can't say that Passport Control and Immigration don't have a sense of humour, I mean, who knew?!
"In January last year, a foreigner who wanted to visit the north east was refused entry to Britain because visa officials ruled it "not credible" that anyone would want to spend a week in Gateshead".
It might be possible that this is the best sentence I've read in a long time:
Lastly, Bering explains how a woman can get pregnant by a man she never had sex with:
If "Josh" were to have sex with "Kate" who recently had sex with "Mike," in the process of thrusting his penis back and forth in her vagina, some of Mike's semen would be forced under Josh's frenulum… Were Josh to then have sex with "Amy" several hours later, it is possible that some of the displaced semen from Mike would still be present under his foreskin and thus may be unwittingly transmitted to Amy who, in turn, could then be impregnated by Mike's sperm. Of course, all of these people would need to be obsessed with dick".
I might try this one day, just because I can.
It was taken from a report on 'Scientific American', obviously I wasn't reading that, it was brought to my attention by Jezebel, like all the good stories I write about. If you'd like to read the whole article click here.
....yet I'm finding it so hard to empty any of it, it's constant noise and chatter and I can't clear it no matter how I try.
And everytime I think about writing a blog, I think of funny, witty things and then my fingers start typing and nothing....
I'm in love with this photo above. It's not funny and is pretty awful. I do not condone or believe the KKK are right in anyway, I just love how unhappy the kid looks about being dressed up in a mental outfit!!! It looks as though his actual thoughts are "You have to be having a laugh, you stupid bitch".
Also, in another world of scary children. There is a current American show about Children Beauty Pageants which is beyond scary. The blog I read regularly linked to some of the girl's websites and oh my god, I mean, there is airbrushing and then there is AIRBRUSHING. I believe the photo to the left is the perfect example of the latter - argh! She looks like she belongs to The Corn!!! Everything about her makes me scared shitless...if I woke up in the middle of the night and found this staring back at me, I'd shit my pants!!! "Run for your lives".
In other news, not much is going on. I spent a lovely weekend in Polzeath Cornwall. For a hen do. It was incredibly charming and lovely but I can't share any stories here, it would be uncouth. One doesn't hen do and tell. Needless to say it was fun times all round!!!
When I can make sense of the remaining brain sick in my head, I shall puked it up here but right now - it's a huge jumbled mess of crazy!
If only the below was a skit!!!
And once you hear it, you'll be humming it all day long:
I've been thinking about the inevitable speeding ticket and decided instead of the kind smile and nod, to ensure I knew I'd been busted. I'd have preferred him to have done a commando roll and then propped himself up on one knee with gun in hand for full effect but alas, it was not to be.
I'm pretty sure I was ranting about a film a while ago called Wristcutters: A Love Story. Well, if not, I'm foolish and if so, it's going to happen all over again. As I finally got it on dvd. It is now available to purchase. And I love it so. It's such a charming concept and with the Gogol Bordelloesque soundtrack and washed out filming style, works exceedingly well for the feeling it's trying to get across. You should watch it, very soon. I adore it and everyone I've recommended it too, has loved it also.
It was my 27th birthday the other day. I turned 27 years old. Most people don't think it's possible, due to the Oil of Olay doing it's job. Alas, it is possible. Maybe this means I should go to Hollywood and play a kid at highschool? The evening was a major success! I went for a sedate affair, where I located myself in a pub and awaited friends to show up. In fact, I turned up late and had friends waiting for me, which is nice. Loads of people showed up and I had a fantastic night. Funniest being that my friends took all the photos and then returned my camera at the end of the night. Looking through them the next morning was rather entertaining.
The guys at the pub made me drink the entire layered shooters board. There are 15 in total and they are all 35ml sized glasses, I think someone worked out that I basically had 20 standard shots (not recommended and to any old punter, wouldn't be allowed), plus the long drinks of choice. Oh deary me. Luckily I'd been training all week for it and also had eaten everything I could find that day, so I was well prepared. The night ended at a very quiet Cellar with dancing fun times. I also stood in dog poo - yay me!
My 28th year is off to a good start!
Plus, my housemates obviously like me too much (probably for all the cleaning I do), as they gave me a sturdy steed to race around town on. And she is a cool rider! So, as of this week, it is RIP Flo and a nice warm welcome to Slaaag aka Trusty Steed! And I had numerous lovely presents and cakes made for me. I truly have some amazing friends.
I've just finished off half a cake...but it's cool. As it's my birthday!
I'm 27! Woop! I like getting older, every year gets better and better and brings more opportunities and people to meet. I hate the idea of the day when it's worse to get older and things seem to go in the opposite direction.
In other news. I got caught speeding for the first time the other day, gutted! 9 years and finally got busted. I keep on spacing out while driving, which isn't good. I think it's due to being so tired. This week, I've failed at getting a regular amount of sleep. On about average I've had 5 hours a night but...alas it's not so evenly spaced out. Next week I'll get back on to normality, I'm a little worried about the spacing out personally.
I'd be officially classified as a spinster in Jane Austen's time - bring it on! The old maid in the corner with a bonnet and a ramshackled home.
Right, onwards and upwards. Just thought I should drop by.
I dodge death on Friday. OK, this might be a little dramatic but not necessarily. I had a shit day on Friday. Last week was supposed to be my holiday but due to financial restraints, I opted to work for most of it. I had one actual day off and ended up doing housework (a womans work is never done). So, to say the least by Friday, I wasn't very relaxed or happy. That morning, I shaved a huge chunk out of my leg (nice), walked in to a door frame, couldn't find the cardigan I wanted and basically had a disastrous day!
6.30 comes round and I set off for work, for how much worse can today get? Well, it could get as bad as a foreigner stepping in to the road, looking the wrong way, when it's not his right to cross! And with my slamming in to said foreigner. Wanker!
I slammed straight in to him, with the only sound coming from my lips being "Woooooooeeeeeeeee"! He looks at what is making this noise, as I slam "Pow" right in to him! I'm dismounted from my bike, in to the middle of the road. Soar elbow, knee and ankle. I pick myself up, look at him and speak the following words "you may want to look in the other direction in future". Some guys near him are trying to check I'm ok, while I scorn him. I say that I'm fine, sigh "Jesus Christ" rather loudly and carry on my way.
Only later, after my shock had subsided, did it hit me, if a bus or car had been following me, I may not be here now. I could be a lot worse off. Or maybe, if a bus or car had been following me, I may not have been knocked off my bike at all.
Either way, I'm very lucky to have got away with a sore body and nothing else. Two and a half years of cycling in Oxford and I've finally been knocked off. Thank god it was a pedestrian and nothing more.
Once again, I've fluked my way through. I feel very lucky!
I haven't written a blog for well over a week, oh the horror, but I saw this news article and it's annoyed me! What you eat doesn't make you fat of it's own accord. It's what else you eat and how much you eat. You could get fat from eating a ton of salad everyday, all day! What makes you fat, in my eyes, is not having a varied enough diet and also doing no exercise. People are too reliant on everything being immediate. It's all about what is practical for when and how easy it is too use. It's nothing to do with chocolate, per say.
We currently live in a convenient world, where none of us have any time to spend on anything. We're too busy trying to get it all none asap and constantly trying to upgrade for the newer better thing. If you don't want people to be fat, take away certain conveniences and educate them. Taxing chocolate is going to do nothing to stop it, as taxing cigarettes and alcohol proves, it just makes people poorer and more determined to get what they feel is their right! It also cripples companies economies.
It's similar to teenage pregnancy. Educate them at an early age. Parents have got to stop wrapping their kids in cotton wool, believing they are too young to hear about certain subjects and have to start thinking that they are raising a small human who will pick up things of their own accord and is it not better to give them as much detail as possible, so they can judge for themselves. Giving someone information and guidance, doesn't encourage them to go and try it for themselves. It gives them a chance to make their own opinions up and become good judges of situations and circumstances.
I think the biggest problem with many politicians is that they are stuck in a goldfish bowl world, where they spend too long looking at tally charts and reports of small sectors of the public and never actually get out there and meet the people. I know they have a hard job, I wouldn't want it, but taxing the public is not the answer. I find it ludicrous that their instant answers is to tax things and get money for the inconvenience. But would the tax money really go to the hospitals who deal with the obese? Does the tax money for cigarettes go to the Cancer Wards? I hate how acclimatised our nation is that being taxed is acceptable and makes sense. Why does it? It doesn't a lot of the time. Maybe they should stop paying themselves so much and start spending the money where it matters...on the education of the young! It's too late for my generation but it's not too late for the future generations.
I got to see Natalie Kate!!! I ended up having a horrendous hangover, by drinking way too much at work the night before. Also going on to dance and drink with some regulars until 3am, didn't help at all...but was fun!
So after a very slow start and an interesting bike ride across town (my brakes are bust on my bike. Last night I remembered this, this morning however? It's very interesting trying to stop a bike, which only just slows, while hurtling towards a car in the bike lane at The Plain) to the station (At this point, I looked like an extra from Top Gun crossed with a Ra, I felt like a soggy bit of used toilet roll dropped on the floor of a public toilet). I boarded a train and felt worse than before. At Marble Arch tube, I decided to walk up the stairs, don't ask why - hangover crossed with temporary insanity, I guess. After 3 flights I asked myself what I thought I was doing but chose not to give up, as I'm a fighter. I won! Screw you Marble Arch Tube Station and your stairs!!!
From here I went on down Park Lane (this is when I started to feel better, I suppose Park Lane is long enough for anyone to feel well on it), across St James Park and along the Mall. There are no bins on the Mall - grr! I had to carry my rubbish all the way along to Traf. Sq. I wonder how many photos there are of the guards at Buck Palace and Clarence House in existence? There were loads of people there snapping away.
Didn't get to see the art I wanted to, other than Christian art and I find it all such a bore. The Picasso show was sold out until 4pm, so we opted for a walk about, which obviously means going to a pub for hair of the dog. Nat's old uni friends joined us for drinks, I got pretty drunken - oppsy!
Once drunk, we finally made our way back to the shire, via Ealing Broadway, which meant we had to get the slow train...changed at Reading and left with one option, another slow train - took an hour to get from Reading to Oxford, at which point I'd sobered up and felt rather hungover all over again! 2 hangovers in 12 hours, pretty impressive if you ask me!
Popped to the pub across town to collect my bike and enjoyed a little tipple to ease my tiredness. Then met up with the Ninor for another small drink, as prearranged. Left Ninor and friends to go home, via the pub at the bottom of the hill, at which point I felt rather awake and starting chatting with some regulars, time flew by and all of a sudden it was another bedtime of 4am?!
In other news: I've no idea what to give up for Lent. It's a little late to start but I'd like to try and give up something.
My bank card got rejected last night, twice. It's lucky I didn't stay in London for the bbq, otherwise I'd have been stuck there this morning with an inability to get back to the shire for work.
I did a new painting the other day and am not that convinced by it, at all. Which is rather disappointing.
I'm 2 seasons of Arrested Development in! My favourite Chicken dance so far is Lindsay'. I can't find any single video evidence, damn it!!!
I'm still excited about this:
And am loving this song! If only there was a proper video!
I'm loving this lady, she's so adorable, with her basic cooking and little stories:
Although I don't fancy Egg Drop Soup much! Doesn't 'Depression Cooking', sound like a bad pressure cooker? I wonder if you could cook food with depression or if in fact, the food wouldn't cook due to not feeling like it.
If you are currently watching Lost, then don't read the last paragraph of this entry!!!
Recently I did some of the family tree with the Queen. She remembers so much!!! Although I'm now trying to trace the relatives on the census online and it's a pain in the arse. Most of the time, the websites won't locate them. I've found the Queen's grandmother and that's it. The most annoying thing is that the last 3 sets of census: 1891, 1901 and 1911 are all on different websites, so you can't just click on the links and go back to the last census. It's called making life as hard as possible.
I get to see my one of my bestest friends this weekend, I can't wait! I'm also hoping to see some of the fantastic exhibitions on at the moment in London. Van Dyck is at Tate Britain. The National Portrait has some awesome stuff on. Picasso at The National Gallery. Don't fancy much on at The Tate Modern. Saatchi's got some good shit on too.
Also need to find somewhere to eat dinner. Having a date with a best friend - what more could one want?!
Was chatting with an American chap yesterday and he's been in the UK for a week and hadn't tried Fish and Chips or Cadbury's chocolate?! Can you believe it?! I couldn't. Shocking behaviour!!! I changed this situation stat! I asked him what sort of chocolate he liked and recommended a Caramel. I got him to buy the Galaxy version too, as he needs to be able to compare. I mean, he might be a smooth chocolate fan, rather than a milk.
The Lost line below - Locke is alive!!! Yeah!!! I love him so so much!!! Can't wait for Season 5 to get truly under way. Hurley's reaction is the best so far. I love love love love Lost so much. I'm not up for giving up for it, not at all. I've committed for so long and just think it's so great. On Seasons 3 and 4 I spent the end of each episode screaming and feeling as though a week was a month and I wouldn't make it, not at all...oh Lost, part of my heart will always belong to you! Plus, isn't it strange that Locke can still walk, even though he's back in the real world? I thought everything was supposed to revert back to how it was before?! And Whitmore vs Linus - loving this too!!! Loving it all...so much!
Why do Diet drinks always have that light chalky taste going on?
Listened to the new Doves album the other day and although some of their songs are kind of pretty. I don't get it, they just seem so bland.
I'm so glad that finally, Bonnie Swanson (Family Guy) has had the baby. What is that 8 years ago? Brian cracks a great joke about her being 10 already...genius!
Last night at work I was asked by an American if he could ask me some questions. I said '10 Questions'? Why not. So he asked some boring ones and some even more rubbish ones and his final question was "Do you realise how loud you are?", he said he meant it with no offence - like I'd take any. Although my colleague and a regular did do so, on my behalf, although I told them it wasn't an issue. I told him that yes I did but there was a perfectly good reason, "When you're raised in a house, with two older brothers and parents who both have large personalities - you also have to be loud, to get noticed!" Let's be fair, I've got the personality of a fat drunk American bird at a party but in the body of a slim English bird.
Have you seen anything about the Duggar Family? They are an American Evangelical family who have 18 children. They believe every child is a gift from god. Fair enough, they can believe what they like, although I think it's a little too easy to believe that, therefore not having to take responsibility for their actions, etc. Plus at least they pay for their own children and don't expect the country to pay for their upbringing. Although I can't help that think her womb has seen more people, than a lift in a Vertigo Clinic.
You must be having a laugh? What will they think of next?
Do it in your own Country, keep it out of ours. If we have an issue about it, we'll deal with it. Oooo, let the wrath rain down!!!
I've started watching Arrested Development from the start - golly it makes me laugh so so much!!! If you haven't invested time to watch it, do it!!!
...but my favourite musical and favourite Disney film have the same theme, I'm not sure if it means anything? Or if it's just a massive coincidence. My favourite musical is Phantom of the Opera and my favourite Disney film is, yep you've guessed it, Beauty and the Beast. Now I've probably mentioned them before, god I've been writing shit on this thing for long enough, I will probably do what Septic Peg does and start re-using old entries for new ones, god knows they've died some what, compared to two years ago.
Not sure if the fact that my two favourite sing-a-long films both feature hideous looking, misunderstood men with mass infatuation, means anything? Not sure if the girls being independent but also reliant on men, means anything? Not sure if their being pursued by swash buckling heroes, means anything either but it is pretty weird?!
I recently finished reading Carrie Fisher's auto-biography Wishful Drinking. It is brilliant!!! It's like you've gone for a cup of coffee with her and she's telling you it all over a nice bit of Carrot Cake. She has such a lovely writing style. She's not just Princess Leia or some famous people's kid (and it really threw me that her mum is the lady who plays Mrs Adler in Will & Grace), she's also generally fabulous and very frankly entertaining in a very humble way. Read it, you won't be disappointed.
I've finally got round to making the cushion covers I've been meaning to make for our sitting room. By the time we've moved out, our house will be perfect and just how I always wanted it to be. Just need to put some curtains in the kitchen and maybe, just maybe.. The tiler/plumber/fix-it man finally finished our toilet and downstairs shower, only a month in the doing. It's so odd to have our hallway back to being ours, rather than a worksite. And our downstairs toilet is even more of a desirable place to be. Unlike the public toilet it was when we first moved in. Our little ramshackled house is becoming even more of a home.
OK, I'll admit it. I'm a bit of a geek. I like to know how things work. I love CGI. I love hearing about new software and hardware. I love gadgets (more than I can express but only useful ones) and I love HTML coding. But I think there is nothing more satisfying than taking something broken and fixing it. Whether that be a broken figurine, electoral equipment, etc. Recently I was printing out some photos for our Hall of Fame (an artistic feature at my house aka total humiliation of myself and housemates) and my photo printer broke and wouldn't reset. There is also no over ride button, which is annoying. It was buggered!
So what does a normal human being do? They'd probably either send it off to the manufactors, take it back to the shop (although mine is about 4-5 years old now), but I don't think they'd take it apart. Alas, I did. I've done it before, when the cartridge jammed, so why not now. Jewellery screw drivers out - 5 minutes in: I was in to the main motor and mother board. 10 minutes: I'd located the cartridge cogs. 15 minutes: I'd manually reset the cartridge drive. 25 minutes: Printer fixed and back together with no bits left over. Not even a random washer (where do they come from?). 27 minutes: Have I really fixed it? 29 minutes: Yes, yes I have! Job done! If I'd sent it off, it would have been a 3-4 week, £100+ job!
I get this obsession with taking things apart and fixing them, from my dad. As I kid, I was always called to assist my dad in his projects. Mainly because I had a steady hand and small wrists, I won't go in to how many times I tighten screws or bolts up in car engines. My dad was a handyman in his own right, I don't ever remember seeing a plumber, electrician or builder at our house as a kid (if things needed doing, he did it. No matter what it was). Nowadays you have to get someone in, due to regulations but back when lead paint was the norm, hell no!
But there is a major satisfaction in seeing something back to it's former glory from deaths door. The kind of satisfaction you can't get from anything else. I think that if I knew all of the terminology and names of everything, I'd be discovered as a geek but not knowing it all, means I can hide it behind make up and high heels.
And yes I am a little OCD about things too but that's for another time.
While driving to work this morning, some little arsey boy-racer punk decided to cut me up, I then ended up over taking him and after a roundabout, he decided to come shooting up my arse and sat on my tail for ages and then finally shot off. At which point I really wanted to be an undercover policeman and pull him over, little shit and his bad driving.
Isn't it odd how one song on the radio can make everything seem better. I was in a rather nonchalant mood this morning and then selected one of my favourite happy songs and wham bam, there I was the happiest person in the world. I love how something so simple can make life seem so much better. This happens quite a lot and I love it when it happens.
There is still loads of snow in Boars Hill - it's so cool. Although I nearly fell flat on my face on my colleague's driveway.
My friends are going traveling in April, which is ace! They'll have such a great time. But their leaving do is a fancy dress do with the theme: Countries. Some people are attending as C*nt Trees, a friend as a Dutch girl and someone is going all in white and being Colombia. I was thinking maybe I could go as Istanbul (by wearing bowls on my feet) but I've been informed Istanbul is a city, not a country - damn my geographical knowledge. So maybe, wearing one arm as a crane and a U on my other hand = Ukraine. Wear a green cape = Cape Verde. Wait around in a Q = Kuwait. I'll think of something, hopefully it'll be cheap but effective. I might go as a Country gent?
While popping out for some lunch earlier, I came across a young lady wearing a pair of wellies. The wellies had a slogan on them (foolish girl). The slogan read "I wish my boyfriend was as dirty as these boots".
I had to take a photo, just to prove I wasn't making it up. Oh the irony? The boots were brand new and sparkling clean. I really wanted to approach her and say "so you want him clean and made of rubber" but thought better of it.
I've had a weekend of drinking. I think my liver finally gave up yesterday, when it took me over an hour to drink a pint of shandy. Friday consists of the day off, due to not being able to move my car, well in fact that's wrong, I did move it 10 foot. Apparently you can't with a Nissan! So after not going to work, I mulled around home doing stuff and then set off early for work at the pub with Ginge and a little pub crawl in tow. 2 pints, some very slow walking and occasional slipping (wellies are water proof but not necessarily grand for grip), good chat and 2 hours later, we arrived at work. Ginge started work and I sat in the garden with some regulars drinking. We had some fun.
Later that evening there was another regular sitting in the garden with a female friend. On my way to the cellar, I was asked what I looked for in a man. I stated the simple 3 piece list: to feel wanted but not over crowded and to be made to laugh. Basically I'm looking for my equal, I don't need a man, I'd like one though. I've found this scares most men. They like to be needed. Most say they don't but they love having someone who constantly needs them and makes them feel wanted. Anyway, I'm running away from the point of this. This girl was upset that all she seems to do is meet losers or guys who screw her over and went on and on about it for about 4 hours (but that's for another time when I want a good rant. Her poor mate.). I told her to get on with being herself and that eventually she'd meet the perfect someone. She said she'd done that for long enough and was fed up, fair enough.
Later that evening I found out she was 21. I wish I hadn't even bothered to try and talk sense to her...silly girl. There I was thinking she was an adult, who had an idea about life and alas not at all...
Saturday consisted of celebrating Hazel's birthday, awesome night all in all. But Sunday, well..I worked the Rugby, golly the Scottish team are way more attractive than the Welsh, not sure if it's the kits or if it's just fact?
Then Chips and I decided to dine out. Nina joined us for Red Star, Tsingtao were drunk. Then off to the Busty where beers, shots and gin & bollocks were drunk, then home to The Duke for some nightcap drinks, or so we thought. At 1.30am we found ourselves entering the Half Moon. I highly recommend The Half Moon on a Sunday night, you either have to have been drinking in there all night or know someone but basically, they have a little soiree with Celtic singers and fiddlers and is a great night all in all. I even drank Guinness. Too much fun was had and it was my third bedtime after the hour of 4am.
