Scabby Elbow!

I have a scab on my elbow, it's all thanks to The Boy deciding he was bigger and stronger than me in The Cellar the other night, so we scrapped and my elbow got scraped down the brick wall...at the time I was pretty wankered, so didn't feel it but the next day, it was all sore and gross.
Every time I touched it or put it on something it hurt...it finally scabbed over, in an impressive form, for a surface scrap, not a proper cut and a few days later, it's at that point where my scab has started to make my skin itch - I really want to pick it but I know that will start off some bleeding or pussing. Normally I'd pick it without thought but it's in an awkward place and was really irritating when I first did it, although it is starting to peel up implying that it's ready for a picking...

So basically the question is: To pick or not to pick?

You're pathetic!!!

There are certain people in this world who should grow the fuck up - they are pathetic, childish and selfish and should take a really long look at themselves, before they start treating people, who tried to be their friends, to a good old stabbing in the front!!!

Although if they grew up, they'd have to take a look at their actions and selves in the mirror and take responsibilty for everything they've ever done, how they've treated people, etc and for some narrow shouldered people, that's far to much weight to bare, oh well off to the shed with a length of rope. Put us all out of our misery, you waste of space and air!!!

How dare you think you can upset my friends? Try to upset me, that's fine but never shit on my friends, as they are kind caring and don't deserve your actions - no one fucking does!
My favourite fact is that the one person, who you claim to love is who you're shitting on most, (i hate to say this but..) he deserves it, we did what we did for him and him alone but he couldn't see the wood through the trees and foolishly followed his heart...turning his back on a loyal best friend of many years, who'd have done anything for him. The only reason I think he deserves it, is how he's treated that said friend since all your shit hit the fan...if he'd ever been a friend to him, he'd never have said or acted how he has. Being blinded by love can only be responsible for a certain amount and he excelled that, a long time a go. Poor boy will have the shock of his life, when he finally sees you for who you are!!!

If you do happen to ever want to grow up or learn from this, note two things - there is no such thing as a free hot dinner and never shit on your own doorstep!

And always remember, never get to sure or cocky, as fate has a funny way of making sure everyone gets what they deserve and your comuppence is just around the corner.

Why won't everyone just fuck off!!!

So far today I've been rude and blunt to someone on the phone, been asked 50,000 times why I'm not going to Reading Festival, sworn a lot at many a traffic light turning red (fucking bastards), got pissed off at someone as they wanted to know if their artist was a)still at our studio and b)awake. And made a promise to myself that if I ever got the chance, I'd run over one of my best friends ex's, because he's a fucking CUNT!!!
So yes, I admit it, I am in a foul mood, really foul mood and I don't want to snap out of it, not at all, i am revelling in it and loving it, a lot!
There are many a reason to why I'm in such a horrid mood, mainly because I am tired, so tired and fed up - work and life seems never ending but this is nothing to complain about, I'm being paid and enjoy my jobs, so that's fine.
I moved house last week, am still knackered. I don't live in cardboard city anymore, which is nice but I still haven't had any time to chill and do nothing, I've had half an hour or so here or there but nothing more.
I've also had the mild stress of cleaning the old house, what fun, etc, etc, etc - the list is endless, right now it is but it'll stop very soon, which i can't wait...it's all cool.

Now to explain my being rude to someone on the phone, the guy fucking deserved it...it's so socially inept that he doesn't have a very nice phone manner and he's never thought about changing it, so in my eyes i'm doing a service to others who have to talk to him. He never says "goodbye", i mean this is basic polite conversation - what the fuck is up with that. And he also starts the conversation with "Hi it's George", as if that's going to make me fall to the floor or rush his call through sooner or do some other amazing shit, just because it's George and secondly, why the fuck doesn't he start the conversation with what the fuck he wants, rather than who it is - he's always so awkward on the phone, i hate answering the phone to him, oh so much!

The traffic lights explain themselves, bunch of conspiring motherfuckers!!!

As for Reading, if anyone else askes me why I'm not going, I'm going to simply answer "Fuck off, that's why!".

How the fuck do i know if her artist, yes HER artist is still here - i arrive at 10am, most artists don't wake until lunchtime and secondly, can i see through fucking brick? No i don't think i fucking can - so fucking phone your artist and find the fuck out!

And as for my best mate's ex, he best fucking watch out the next time he's walking along the Cowley Road, I'll happily get points to knock him flying - god being run over really is too good for him, torture is even too good for him, i hate him so much...more than anyone else...which I'll get back to later.

Right now, the one thing that pisses me off more than anything is presumptious people, i find them more rude than ignorant people - fucking cunts!!!
A few of my beliefs on often brain patterns for presumptious people:
You've done it before, so you will again and because you've done it before, you'll feel awful at the idea of saying no, so you'll do it - taking advantage, fucking cunts!!!
I'm foreign, I know I shouldn't presume but I will, as we can blame it on cultural differences and then you'll also do it, because you're too polite to say no - Cunts, fuck off!!!
You've always done it before, so I'm not going to ask if you need help or take any initivite for your sake, you obviously enjoy doing it.
I'm a cunt. I can't be bothered to take responsibilty for my actions, as I'm a cunt. I have no real friends, as I've spent my entire life lying to myself and my friends, so stand there with a pan and brush, while I shit on my own doorstep and then you can clean it up - spineless, lonely CUNT!
And my all time favourite: I'm a fucking cunt and know you're nice, so I'll deal with it, you generous foolish prick.

These are some of the cunty actions I've had of late, of absolute and utter cunty pricks who have decided to take advantage of me, because, god knows why, because I'm nice, because as long as you've never fucked me or my friends over, I'll treat you how I'd like to be treated, fuck knows but I hate them all and wish a huge selective bomb would wipe them the fuck out!
Above are a few, there are others but I can't be arsed, I'm in a bad mood but I've discovered the weirdest thing lately and I don't know where to file it, other than Limbo, which I hate as I call it a cop out. But you'll have to be a friend of mine my myspace to read that, as it's far to personal for here.

Rice

Now Surely, Uncle Ben would be rolling over in his grave, if he knew the makers of his rice were making it convieniently for the microwave?
Now I suck at making Rice, it's an art form of which I can't do but I still think microwave rice is really, really wrong!!!

Yonks

It's been fucking ages since I wrote a blog last and I won't allow Axl to complain to me, so here I am typing away, just to not be whinged at, like I do he, when he hasn't emptied his brain.

So today, i didn't get an acknowledgement or thank you from two arsehole drivers, for letting them come through my right of way - fucking arseholes, how hard is it to just hold your hand up for 5 seconds - Pricks!!! These sorts of mornings are what make me believe that bird flu, is a good idea. Wipe out a large collection of the population and hope that most of those written out, are the inbreds and incapable.

The ignorance of two people and the fact that no matter which direction I drove this morning, there were 500 other arseholes all with the same bright idea, as me! I felt like I was Truman from The Truman Show, when he tries to escape and all the cars keep on pulling in front of him...although, as far as I'm aware, I'm not on a TV show, anyhow I hope I'm not, as there are things I do, that I'd hate for anyone to witness, it's why I do them in private (these things I talk about, are not sordid little things, thank you Axl). They are things like picking dry skin, my nose, plucking hairs, etc...things which are just unpleasant to see.

I'll tell you one thing, Vlad the Impailer had the right idea too. He invited all of the lame, lazy and disabled to his house for dinner one night, while they dined, he locked the doors and set fire to the place, I know it's a crazy quick solution which may not be the best way to get people off their arses and earning a wage but it is an option of sorts.

On a less mental, crazy point, than I am right now - all of which is due to my self righteousness and these two arsehole drivers. Which came first Morals or law/rules? This is one of my favourite debates to have and this coming from the girl who doesn't really agree with debating as there isn't enough emotion involved.

I want a fucking present!

So, a while ago I joined Facebook. I didn't want to but I was trying to deal with my lack of myspace and everyone and their mate kept on adding me, so I finally gave in.

Since being on there, I've gone through the hatred and dislike, I've now accepted it. I hate the fact that there is not a lot of diversity and it's all so straight looking but I also quite like it, it's a little like school uniform (although you're actually unable to identify the scabby kids, other than through their general inability to spell) and it's pretty simple to use.
I hate the fact that all of my friends can see my every move and comment - no privacy, but I like the fact that you get told when people have added new photos, etc.

I also love two aspects of it, how you know people (the most filled out, waste of time ever - I love being nosy about people's contacts. I've claimed to have hooked up with mostly everyone, which I haven't except one and that is on going currently) and also the present giving aspect, as it's for charity and makes a lovely token.

Which brings me to my point of selfishness. I want someone to give me a fucking present, it's not that much to ask. The first one is free and it doesn't take that much to dedicate a small piece of nothingness to a friend. Plus you can then buy in bulk for cheap.
I gave my first one to Bizz, as she was leaving work and I love her. I also gave Howardo a giraffe (I wish it was dressed up in clothes but never mind) as she'd been a good friend, an orchid to Vikki - as she was poorly, a pint of beer to Jon - he's great, why else?! and a four leaf clover to Emily - as she was leaving us, the dirty rotten ho-bag!

Later today, I shall shower my two bestestest friends with one each, as I love them but still no one dedicates one to me - nothing. I want to give more away, with sentimental feelings and thoughts but when I see that the people have already got one, it makes me begrudge giving them one, which is stupid but hay ho, that's the way it goes. My thought is that I adore giving presents to people and love making people smile and feel loved, so a little token that gives money to charity is always a worthy cause but I'm starting to grit my teeth and get rather annoyed by the lack of love I've received from my friends.
I know you're not supposed to give to receive but after giving so much, I want to see some returned in more ways than one!!! I know all of my friends love me, it's hard not too but some times actions/presents speak louder than words/thoughts.

And now beacuse I've complained, when I do get one, I'm going to constantly think that I only got it because I complained - fucking hell!!! This is one selfish bird signing off.



Although on another note, I was reminded last night, that I had a dream about Jaffa Cakes, yeah!!! Flucky told me that I was also muttering about dragons but I don't remember any of the dream (I do remember waking up and telling him that I'd dreamt about the cakes though), so I'm choosing to ignore that point and focus on the fact that Jaffa Cakes made it to my subconcious - fuck yeah!!!

My life Since P.A. entered.

P.A. undoubtably is Paul Askew, aka Axl.

I remember the first time I ever met Mr Axl. I was attending a roast dinner at Junction Road 90210 and there he was, along with a mixture of other people, Nell, Paul, Lex, Russ, V and Andy (plus the dog, that they'd been looking after), Mat and Hannah, Lee (Wainwright Jnr), Tim and others - can't really remember whoelse and I'm sorry if by forgetting someone I offend them, not intending to but it's hard to remember anyone, when Axl is around.
Ahh yes, Axl, you know it, Mr suck all of the attention in, move aside TV/music/radio/general entertainment, Axl is here now.
So anyway, yes that was my first proper encounter, he was rather subdued that night, if I remember correctly but it was all good.
We discovered early on in our friendship that we had equal need for: attention, witty one liners, getting a little too drunk, bitching and generally feeling mightier and better than everyone else, well because we are, of course! This brought on my excitement when ever he appeared to be around and especially when he got hooked up with the internet = myspace and blogs.

One of my favourite one liners of his was after he spilt a whole glass of wine over Lex's female friend, he exclaimed that he'd saved Lex a job, as she was already wet!!! Genius, everyone else kept their calm and didn't laugh out that loud and I was literally rolling around the floor, crying tears of salty pleasure (and no not I the boys one eyed snake sense).

He's done some nutty shit (not as in poo, as in head butting light bulbs, beer showers and standing way to close to Hootie, during drunken moments) and he's done some rather intelligent things (like dating Alex, being my friend and writing a blog).

And on Saturday night, he pushed the entertainment boundaries for me, to an all time high (this is excluding the lighbulb head butting) and is mainly towards all of the fucking comments he made and the insistency of stealing my shoes and getting an extremely eager guy to wear them, as well as giving himself a beer shower and applying a hanger to his clothing attire - he had me hooked on his every loudly spoken word. I think it's safe to say that we are two kindred spirits.

So Axl, it's not quite what you wanted (it's probably better, as it's all about you), but I promise I shall rant soon, wait for my life to stop making me happy and I'll rant away but for now, I hope my ode to you is enough.

The New Age of Peppers

While innocently shopping around Sainsbury's the other night, I stopped by some of my favourite vegetables, the peppers - they are so marvellous, well all except the green ones, poor bastards, they have got the rough end of the stick but they don't taste as yummy as the others colours.
The red ones are crisp, the orange ones juicy and the yellow ones fresh and juicy - yummy! You can prep them in so many different ways and they go with most things.
So, while pondering on which colour would look best in my Chilli Con Carne, I noticed two boxes at the back of the regular choices...One full of purple peppers and the other full of brown peppers - What the ?!
I was flabbergasted, who? What? Why? Why would you do that to a pepper?
The purple one was a really nice colour but I can't imagine that the flavours are particularly nice...I was to scared to buy them but I photographed them instead.
I bet anything that they'll produce Organic Purple and Brown Peppers next, it'll be slightly ironic if they do.

Hopefully, Gabrielle was wrong and not all dreams do come true!!!

Recently, say the last month, I've been having the most random dreams.

Some were pretty tame - I was in the local pub of Drayton (the village I grew up in) with Jo and Jd is working behind the bar, the pub looks nothing like it does and was in the middle of no where but we all know it's supposed to be The Red Lion. I pop to the bar and realise that there was a wedding reception in the garden, which a beautiful river runs past, which is the only way of getting back to Drayton from here, you have to river wad (don't ask?!). After a chatting with JD and buying drinks, I return to Jo to find her talking with an ex of mine and one of his housemates (what was weird about this, was that they hadn't met at the time and they were getting on really well). My dad comes to give me a lift home and half way home, I say that my ex had offered to walk me home (through the river, which is quite dangerous but we've all done it so many times, we know where the dangerous parts are, etc. Plus this ex has offered to do anything with me in public for fucking ages, so it was quite a gesture.) and my dad turns the car around (this would never ever happen) and drops me off at the pub to walk home with the ex. This was the start of my random dreams...

In another one, I married a 40-50 year old millionaire with a ginger comb over, just for the divorce and his money. We were at the reception, which was held in a marquee that was based in the valley and stretched up 3 hills. What concerned me was that no one was asking me why I'd married him or was trying to talk me out of it, plus my dad spend the entire time complaining about the marquee being all wrong. The weirdest part was realising at the end of my dream that I might love this man but knowing deep down that I was in love with someone else.

The jumpiest of them all came a few nights ago, I was being wooed by my next door neighbour (and no not the attractive rock climber, damn shame.) the one with 3 wives and 13 kids. I was at the beach with a group of friends and we all had to climb these massive hills and twirling pathways to get to the beach and my neighbour turned up asking me for a date and then wooing me, the whole time I was thinking, I'm never going to be your 4th wife, so don't bother and then all of a sudden feeling like i was in a trance and thinking, actually your rather swoonsome...and as I thought maybe, he turned in to a Vampire and disappeared off in to the woods, at which I ran away to rejoin my friends - Lucky escape if you ask me.

The funniest one, I had this on Saturday night was that I was Nicholas Lyndhurst (yeah, Rodney!!!) and Sir David Jason (from such classics as Dangermouse, Wind in the Willows and The BFG) was making a documentary about how Only Fools and Horses became so big...all very odd. The oddest part was when my two teeth fell out (I used to get teeth falling out dreams all the time, they represent anxiety and stress), and no one seemed bothered but I went to the Dentist and he said due to my over crowding they'd fill in without any hassle, which was nice.
Once I'd sorted the teeth problem, I appeared to morph in to Sir David Jason and was chatting to Steven Fry, who was playing Compo from Last of the Summer Wine and we were discussing an up and coming project and he was trying to crack on to me, and me being Sir David Jason didn't mind at all, I was rather flattered.

Yeah, I think I'm screwed! Thankfullly last night i had no dreams, so got some proper rest, the best thing about these dreams is that they've not been to stressful, so have slept well throughout them, the worst thing is how random they've all been!

Crikey!

Golly, slightly drunken blogging is a little wrong, not only are the spelling mistakes a pain in the arse but also the lack of anything to say other than crap, it's a slight problem, which is never normally a problem, as when I'm sober, I'm more tolerant of my normal crap and once a little twatted, i get impaitent and bored of myself, I become restless and fed up and have no time for bull shit or the usual crap that I'll tolerate.
It's quite funny, I keep on correcting my spelling mistakes and keep on thinking, when I do so so, that I should leave them, as you'd all still understand. The next paragraph I shall leave badly written and typed and ignore it, even though it shall haunt my dreams and cause me many a bad nights sleep (being a perfectionist is a pain in itself), I'm slightly pissed, what do I care?
tonightm, was the first night I've gone out drinking sociailly for ages and it gelt great, so wonderful. howard left me early on as she had to attend her partner with feod anf drink, so I caried on to tthe duke for drinkies, i ended up chatting to a wonderfuyl girl called Sam, she was marvelllous and jollly good fun, i fuck,ing love new people - ph so mucj, i forgot how mych i do love new peopel - sje and i had a certain uynderstanind of wach other, which was fucking ace and really nice.
OK, I'm sorry but I can not take not correcting these spelling mistakes anymore, my skin is starting to itch and my fingers starting to twitch and my iTunes has run out of tracks, which I will rectify...now.
Anyhow, I had a small amount of money to my name but when Shot O'Clock pops by 5 minutes after you walk in the door, you know you won't need more than £20. Oh dear, Shot O'Clock did actually pop by pretty quickly, which explains me right now...it will never explain my randomness, only my family can explain that and if you don't know them, you'll never truly understand...I am a marvellous individual clone - I am my mother and my father of equal proportions, as well as own self and I can recgonise their mistakes and my own and know when to curve them and how others will react, before they've done so.
If you know my family, you'll know that we are all so different, we spend forever screaming at each other but we are all so similar that we understand the screaming and know that it's so short lived and represents our love for each other, that you may as well accept what the other is saying and scream your love back - yes I'm rambling but I love my family and how very different and how exactly the same we all are. It's as simple as you can't choose your family, so you may as well try to understand them. It'll save a lot of time and annoyance in the long run. Maybe I'm just lucky, as my family are all pretty simple and straight forward, even the complicated ones...there never has been and never will be bull shit in my family, as none of us would abide it. Which I respect and love whole heartidly.

Basically, I love being me and appreciate all of the greatness and shitness through my past, as it's all applied to make me me.

I originally had a point to make about drunken blogging, I think some how I made it but failed to make it in one, jolly good. No more drunken blogging from me!!! Promise!

Here's to the Four Tops! Yeah, they are so fucking awesome!!!!

Bi-cycling around Oxford.

If someone had said to me 4 years ago that I'd be a bi-cycling around Oxford and loving it, I would have told them to go fuck themselves, as it turns out, they would have been right.
Since I moved to East Oxford, I discovered how truly awful driving around the city is (I already knew it but thought it might be ok-ish), also walking is fantastic fun but sometimes takes up to much time. So after discussing this very matter with my friend Emily, she offered me her old bike. One afternoon a few weeks later, a bike arrived for me, thanks to her uncle for dropping it off and so my love for bi-cycling and for Flo (full name being "The Fluorescent Wonder") began.

After a few cycle rides, I took to it like a duck to water...remembering how to use the gears and to up my ante when on a hill. I would do as I used to on hills by standing up and swaying side to side but that isn't Oxford bi-cycling etiquette, not at all. From what I can understand when approaching a hill, drop down a gear, then one should stay seated and make it look as easy as possible...which of course it is and I do all the time.
It's amazing how much of Oxford is designated to bi-cyclists. I'd never noticed being a driver, so it was a pleasant surprise to discover. There is parking and lanes for bi-cycles everywhere and it's hella good fun to bi-cycle around, especially when plugged in to a good album.
One of my favourite routes when bi-cycling, involves Longwall Street and then up Holywell Street, as Holywell is a slight relaxing pace and very pretty, I take this route everytime I cycle in to town. One of the others is the traffic lights at the High St./Longwall St. junction, over Madgelene Bridge and down to The Plain, I love racing the other bikes and the buses...love it!!! Also bi-cycling up to Summertown is beautiful and lovely to potter on around. Generally i'm well in to the bi-cycling and love being one of those annoying bastards in the way of all the traffic.

007 Driving school

Now the title may startle some of you but don't let it. Basically, while driving in to Oxford earlier today, I found myself behind the car in the below image, let's forget that it's a Clio and that he had no idea about indicating or roundabouts....have a look at the name of the teaching company - 007. They've even seeked special permission to use the entire logo, including the gun but am I not mistaken, did not James Bond have a license to kill? Plus, we've all seen what he does to cars! Not the best name if you ask me.

Top 5's

If/when you visit my house, you'll discover some neatly stuck up pieces of A5 paper attached to the sitting room wall, these are our 'Top 5's', one night while bored in front of the TV we decided to do so.

It started with your "Top 5 roast dinners by accompanying condiment", mine reads -
Lamb
Pork
Chicken
Turkey
Beef.

There are other topics: Top 5 roast by meat, Top 5 Veg, Top 5 Fruit, Top 5 smells, Top 5 Famous Men (this isn't who you fancy, it could be but it's more who you admire/like), Top 5 Famous Women (same as the men), Top 5 things to do with your hands, Top 5 crisps. That's about it, we did have a list of about 20 other topics on which we were going to survey but never got round to.

My Top Famous Men reads:
John Cusack - I love him and his voice.
Anthony Hopkins - He's just so cool.
Bill Bailey - He's fucking brilliant, I love him.
Gabriel Byrne - Just look at him and he's Irish.
Frank Sinatra - Well, he just has to have been there, he's amazing, even if he was an alcoholic pill popping wife beater who had no respect for women - Have you seen the original Ocean 11's?!

The one I'd love to do, but it wouldn't be met so well with some of my housemates, as some of them do not appreciate the glory of a good swearing (weirdos!), would be 'Top 5 Swear words'. Amazingly enough, number one would not be Cunt, it would be in there but number one, above all other swearwords has to be Fuck. Was there any doubt? I do hope not, as if so, I must try harder to spread the word - literally!

I think it would read something like this:
Fuck
Cunt
Cockmunch (it's a hybrid but counts)
Shit
Bollocks

The top four are for sure, without doubt but the bottom one will probably change and morph in to other words (bugger, bloody, twat and prick, for example), variety is the spice of life. Thinking about it now, Twat may have to feature as number five, as I love saying it and calling people it and it's never meant as an insult (it's meant as a pregnant fish, lol, sorry a small in joke, in joke of our house, isn't it Miss Hamilton).

So here's to Fuck, I fucking love the word and it causes a glorious, glorious release of annoyance and stress...so when irritated over the next few days, have a swear, you know you want to.

Please feel free to add your Top 5 swear words in the comments.

The Grannymobile, but you can call her Nan.

The grannymobile is coming along nicely, oh so nicely. I think I'm likely to pull some nice young chap from Oxford with it.
It's a beautiful Vintage (you know 'vintage' as in old and second hand but let's make it sound way cooler than it is) car, with only 38,000 miles on the clock, some lovely fake flowers on the dash and no power steering - I collect envious looks from others, as I tootle past them at 60mph, but what's a girl to do?!
My father has informed me, that it's such a nice car that a family of mice moved in during the winter, they've made a cute little home in the boot, tucked nicely away by the spare wheel. I mean, who else can claim that they've had inhabitants during the colder months in their cars..I think no one.

It's my birthday today and I couldn't care less, as this week is all about Friday and Friday alone...roll on Thursday night! Although saying that, I am now the proud owner of a very pretty new handbag, thanks Garbs and Vikki and one of the greatest classic rock albums ever, AC/DC - Back in Black, cheers Howard.

Up gear, down gear, no gear.

So, I had a blast last night at Nell's party, it was ace. The whole night was a joyous event with interesting people.
I drank quite a bit and had some brilliant conversations with some people I'd never met before. We played 'What's in the rucksack?', which was quite funny and rather revealing, I got it totally wrong, spoke about naming inanimate objects and then discussed religion with a lovely chap until 6.30am. Got home and to bed at 7am, oppsy!

11am, a very nice chap turns up to remove the crap from our garden and assess the state of the garden...4 hours sleep, not happy. Hangover kicking in, yeah!

Finally get some energy and drive to work to clean up after the band in the studio. Come home to find my car struggling with gear changes...as you know, I had a gurgling and had been informed that my gearbox was becoming buggered and that my clutch was on it's way out...get to the Oxford ring road, hello can't get in to gear, finally manage it, with a mild patch of panic and carry on home, trying to hurry the traffic on as I go. Get to Cowley Road, stall, not happy...some bastard bus driver, decides he'll make gestures at me, yeah because I choose for my clutch to break...Cunt!
Phone the father, he suggests Mr Clutch, as I thought that was the problem and wa-hey - my gearbox has broken and is pissing gearbox oil out everywhere, I've left a trail of oil all the way from East Oxford to the Shire and back...not good! £1300 to fix it, can't be done till Thursday, I start to cry...general life, no money, no sleep, shit car = hysteria!. am not paying £1300 for a car only worth £1700. Call the AA, this heap of Fiat shit, isn't going anywhere on it's own!!!
Mr Clutch 'Simon' is a lovely bloke, he gives me a glass of water, I finally calm down, he continues to entertain me while I wait for the AA to show up and cart my car away to a farm in the south of Oxfordshire. Call Howardo, she comes and comforts me and makes me feel not so crap, (Mr Clutch 'Simon' will be getting a big thank you in the shape and taste of a lovely bottle of red wine, I hope he drinks?!).
Mr AA arrives, I give him the directions and contact details for the farm and the chap, Dave, who’s going to be receiving.
And Howardo and I head down the Cowley Road to carry on with our lives.

Have another chat with the father and he says that they'll run the granny-mobile to me tomorrow, when the whole family come to eat lunch...yeah, the granny-mobile is wicked! It's a Mazda 323, it's ancient from way back when, in the day of your!


Isn't she a beauty!!!

It's cream, has a lovely blue interior, a manual choke, only a radio no tape or cd player, 4 gears, no central locking, wind down windows and the all important factor of all, low mileage.
I remember being driven around by my grandparents in it as a kid, it was always kept in immaculate condition, you know in that way that only old people can do...and now it's going to be my temporary car...my only fear is that it may get wrecked on the Cowley Road by students and the like...bloody drunken fools. I hope they can show it some courtesy.

So here's to my car and its shit gearbox and also to the granny-mobile!

The Greatest Month is soon to begin...

I really wanted to write something about how much I love April, not because it's my birthday month, as the month starts, 3 days later my birthday has gone by without so much of a blink of an eye.

It's more because it's one of the better changing seasonal months. We all love March, as it's the first glimpse of Summer we see, there are sunny warm days, sunny windy days, occasional rainy days and the blossom starts to bloom and the baby animals start to pop out and up everywhere.

So yes March is great, amazing weather most of the time and is generally the first piece of relief after winter but April, ahh April, April is the cold reminder that Spring is not Summer. It comes with the rain and the overcast days, it starts off the clouded warmer night, after the stark cold clear winter nights, the grass turns slightly greener due to the rain. And then towards the end of it, something happens...around the 20th, the rain always buggers off, the clouds start to part a little more and the morale of people starts to cheer up, the flowers start to bloom larger and brighter, and best of all the blossom starts to fall like snow to welcome May.

And then there is May Day, which is always a bloody good laugh and so much fun. I love having a fry up at 6am with a pint, no better way to waste my sleeping time. Especially as last May Day was shit but thankfully relived me from a large noose around my neck..this year will be grand!

Ciao.

If only...

I'm just watching the end of the new James Bond film 'Casino Royale', I'm thinking that the 1970's David Niven one was better but what do I know?! Anyhow, thanks to 'Casino Royale', I'm now extremely nostalgic for Venice. I tripped there with the mother in 2005 and fell in love (as I also did with New York, or "Neew Yoirk" as the locals would say, way back during my 18th year of life), so watching it now, while Daniel Craig and the French bird, pretending to be English, sail on through has got me pining.
I want to return, revisit the beautiful magic city, but this time, instead of the mother, a handsome chap, with charisma and charm, a gorgeously swanky hotel and loads of romantic walks and dinner, t'would be nice!

I just wanna go back, and while there I'll learn some more Italian, as saying 'Il conto, per favore' at Mario's, doesn't quite live up to my Italian dream.

Am currently eating some very nice homemade soup that Mr Conway brought me up from the studio, it's truly delicious. Was going to buy some bread, as there is nothing like bread and chunky butter with soup but I'm quite content without.

Enjoy your weekends my sweets, I just want someone to take me to Venice, nothing more. Someday my prince will come, as Snow White sang, but let's hope I don't have to constantly pick up after seven small men, be poisioned and buried in a glass coffin, before hand.

Presents I won't except..

Smellies - I had enough fucking smellies when I was at secondary school and none of us had a creative enough mind to buy anything else, other than that "Strawberry selection pack from Superdrug that came with a free bottle of Charlie Red". So no thank you. I'm finally getting round to getting rid of the last load I was given over the last few years, it's quite enough of all that. Charity shops do love me though, I donate so much crap...doing my bit for Charitee.

Candles and the like - I've already got two shoe boxes of candles, incense, oil burners, etc. I do not smell and nor does my room/house. I like Candles but they have their place. To buy someone the right ones, would involve a close examination of their lifestyle. I do like incense but thanks to a small shop in Abingdon called Escapade (it opened when I was about 12 and at the height of my incense and candle loving days), I've enough to last me an entire lifetime.

Any Chocolate other than Cadbury's - I'm not a fan, unless it's Nestle White Chocolate. I never have been...I just don't really like Mars, Nestle chocolate, or any other type.

Pants/Knickers - If you happened to randomly think this might be a good idea, it's not. I always buy my knickers a size larger than I need, as for comfort and VPL are so hideous, especially when they dig in from being too small. So if you do decide it's a good idea...French knickers in a size 12 please...oh and only natural material.

Rose Wine - I'm not a fan of the stuff at all...why be that indecisive? Either have red or white, it's not that hard and it's not as though there isn't options, most places have a selection from dry to medium and full bodied to light. For shitting Christ sake...get some wine experience and drink proper wine. This does not however include Pink Champagne, that's fine, perfectly fine.

Vodka - If you want to watch me puke for 24 hours and loose all will to do anything other than hog the toilet seat, buy me Vodka and then spike my drink. I won't thank you and nor will anyone else. And those of you who say that Vodka has no taste or smell, your wrong my whole body jerks and freezes, as soon as vodka touches my lips with or without my knowing. Allergies are so much fun!

Clothes - I don't mind clothes per say, it's more that when people do buy me clothes, they always buy the wrong size. Just because I look tall and thin, with no hips, doesn't mean that I am tall and thin with no hips. And why is it, when I tell people this, they always say "Yeah, whatever, surely you're a size 8?", as though I've been fooling myself all these years and their one comment will make me fess up to having worn the wrong sized clothes for the last 5 years?! I think I fucking know what clothing size I am, after all I do buy my clothes and wear them.
If you do buy me clothes, 10-12 (Medium) is perfect...I hate being squeezed in to my clothes, I like freedom of movement, so if you're unsure buy me the larger and I can always exchange it or adapt it, if it's that bit to big. If you want to get truly technical, Size 10 lower half, size 12 upper half.

That's about it. Probably best to stick to the presents I'll except list, unless you know me really well.

P.S. I forgot to add Wine on that list - Medium Whites and Fruity Reds.

I want, sorry would like...

Below you'll all find a fantastic list of presents I'll happily accept for my birthday:

Creme Eggs (I would say in all shapes and sizes, but this is not true, as the fondant in the small ones is gross!), Double Deckers are also a fantastic option. If I was going for the jugular of all Chocolate bars, I'd opt for a Wispa (and no, Cadbury's Bubbly is not a good remake, not at all!!! It's lies, all lies!) but that would involve time travel, which really is to much to ask and expect.

Socks, preferably in my size but I'm really not fuss, with fun shapes and colours would be a pleasure. I'm a size 6-7.

Anything on my Amazon wishlist, listed under Pipsywoo and don't judge, just because I like a lot of crap, I've got to put up with it, not you...so just observe and move along.

Tickets to the theatre, only good theatre though. Gift Vouchers of any size, in general are good and yes I know I sound like an old person, I except it's a classic old person comment and so is the following comment, they are practical..as are vests, warm coats and ugly shoes.

Dinners, offers or restaurants either are good...I bloody love food.

Bottles of Champagne will be accepted and appreciated if chillled, but not appreciated if drunk.

Obviously Re: previous posts a blender would be so much appreciated but unlikely, can't wait to buy one...yeah! Frozen Margaritas!!!

Failing all of the above, a fantastic costume, a large smile and your presence would be enough to make me a happy person.

Lost's John Locke - A Marvellous Man

Now since Lost started, I've found myself fighting with my Lost loving friends. Many of them found John Locke's character sinister and odd. I find him endearing and lovable.

I love how he constantly has a slight smile on his face and with his new scar from the plane crash he's so cute, there really is nothing like a scar on the face of a man, to make him look butch and adorable.

Now, Lost did a fantastic job of making this amazing character on the borderline, is he a misunderstood huntsman or is he a sinister bloke with his own agenda, who knows! I think that is why he's one of the only characters who hasn't been assigned in a certain way. He was given a scar due to the crash to make him look scary, had a briefcase of knives, constant smile on his face, etc...all of his background stories have shown him as an angry gentle but misunderstood individual, a sweet natured kind soul and yet some of my friends are adament that he's evil or wrong.

He's not, he's marvellous. And he got the use of his legs back, a walking miracle to state nothing else.

I love him and think he's great...one of my ultimate favourites!


How could anyone with face like this be evil?!