Thursday, November 12, 2015

Dear London

It just might help if I compose
A list of my main London woes
It's worth a try I guess, here goes:

What is this black stuff in my nose?

Fine yes, the city never sleeps
But roars awake with glass and beeps

Dawn chorus you are mighty shrill
Through my single glazed and sill

And lest we not forget the trains
Bright hearses for our spent remains

Grab me, grope me, push me hard
I'll pay you with my Oyster card

We have sunk in your dark belly
Sleepless nights and box set telly

On we march, persistent herd
'Privacy' a term absurd

Competition rough and rife
Dreaming of the country life

Thought it would be wondrous - Psych!
Drink your way through
And poor as you like

Tuesday, November 10, 2015

Pay up

I'm determined to get a free coffee from Pret - because nothing tastes better than free.

I'm trying out different personas to see if I can crack them.

This morning I was a nice person, like a seriously lovely person. I gave them my best smile (that's right my BEST one - I don't even whack this bad boy out for close family), and I was impeccably mannered. My eyes said, 'I see your value, you delightful coffee bringing person.' And behind my brief words, like 'Yes, please,' and 'Thank you,' I was saying, 'I do charity work, and am kind to children, the perfect candidate for one of your free coffees.'


Last week I tried down and out. But there's a thin line between that, and grumpy. Luckily I once played Emmeline Pankhurst in a school play, and so acting is kind of my thing.

I tried to express that I was riddled with undeserved bad luck, in need of a caffeine fuelled break. I was like, 'look guys, life's shitting on me right now, and I'm not sure why. I'll probably kill myself. That is unless someone showed me a small gesture of kindness. Then I think I'd be just swell again.'


I'm running out of personas, and fast.

There's nothing left do to but Google.

'Clive Schlee, chief executive of the coffee giant, revealed he has given his staff the power to hand out a coffee on the house to people they like or fancy.'

Shit the bed. That's where I've been going wrong - getting served by women, who are statistically unlikely to be both:



-Attracted to sour faced administrators.


Conflicting advice:

''Don't try to flirt a freebie off a barista or try to make them feel sorry for you - it's all about radiating happiness, a wide smile, and spreading the joy.

Any advice for people who can't feel joy? Nope, not one bit,

I can do a lot of things - nice, sure, put upon, sure, BUT HAPPY? FUCKING HAPPY?

It's an absolute joke, and only one thing is clear to me; I will never get a free coffee from Pret.

Thursday, November 05, 2015

The big yawn

Guys, I am stooopid.

I'm 5 days in to another NaNoWriMo - another November trying to have a life (oh alright, not much of one) and shove out 50,000 words of novelly goodness at the same time.

It hurts already. I think I'm sick.

What's that? You want to help? Well you can, by taking a look at the teeny business Ginger and I have just launched!

I definitely think that will aid me in my journey. ALSO I previously asked all of you directly for money, and now I'm giving you a product in return, which is a little thing I like to call, progress.

Today, I watched a smartly dresses business man step into the only puddle for MILES. And the water came up above his sock. And it gave me a spring in my step.

Probably the same tosser who loudly announced, 'Oh alright, whack another half mil on, to sweeten the deal,' as he passed me last night.

Luckily, the BBC have come up with a very discreet way of culling morons. Granted, a niche breed of morons - they type that need putting out of their misery - but morons all the same.

I think it's called Weather Watch - and the idea is that you send in notes on the weather, exactly where you are.

If you're interested, sign up here -

I'm going to hack into the database, and find where they live, and publish the addresses, and let the non-moronic public hunt them down. Think about it - the roads will be quieter. Lovely.

I'm not even shitting you, this is on the homepage -

Join the nation's favourite conversation.

God help us all. 
Frequent, maybe. I'll give them that - the nation's most frequent conversation. But FAVOURITE? FAVOURITE?
Who are these people?
Nevertheless, I'm intrigued. I read on.
There's a picture of a twister in the background. I guess it's important to know about a twister.ONE POINT TO YOU WEATHER FUCKERS.

I'm so angry. I think it's because I'm tired. I'M SO TIRED.

Love you all.

Wednesday, October 21, 2015

The Pret Threat

Just received the most aggressively fashioned, 'Take care,' of my life, and from a lady in Pret.

She was perfectly normal until the very last segment of our exchange, where she held my coffee back, tilted her chin forward, and deeply boomed those words. Everything around us slowed, as our eyes locked, and the warning soaked in.

So two things really:

1) If something awful happens to me today (which seems kind of inevitable now, ever since she delivered my fate over my crayfish salad), you'll know what the catalyst was.

And 2) Pret don't seem to give out free coffees to people they like (as I'd been misinformed) - they only give out free threats.

There was only one logical reaction; I took numerous forks. That's right, approaching the array of plastic cutlery, feeling hard done by, concerned, and having paid for my coffee, I took a chunky handful of forks.


God, I really know how to stick it to the man.

My next novel (yeah, like I have a first) - 'Don't get angry, get even.'

Speaking of novels, it's that glorious time of year again where Nanowrimo is peeking up like some unwanted, ugly meerkat.

For those of you who haven't ingested my whinging in previous years, it's a national challenge to write 50,000 words in a month.

What's in it for me?

If successful, I get to print my own certificate, AND if I attend a write-in, the chances of attaining NaNo related stickers are high.

What's in it for you?

I go insane (Yes, that's right. It gets even worse than it is already).

For the first time ever, I also have a buddy, who I've managed to deceive into thinking it will be fun. Good for me. Want to go crazy too?

Unlike last year, where I essentially gave someone Gollum from Lord of the Rings, as a sidekick, I'm going to do my very best to have ideas that I haven't stolen.

I even have my first line ready and waiting, 'My mum decided to die in my favorite place.'

Alright, so it's not exactly uplifting, but then you've very much come to the wrong blog if that's what you're after. And yes, my Mum will take it rather badly, and assume it's some kind of wish fulfillment on my part, but the life of a writer is a hard one my friends.

I must boldly go where...oh wait..I'm plagiarizing again.

Better quit while I'm ahead.

Thursday, October 08, 2015

A shiny, new leaf

Guys it's so grim; another new housemate.

All you really need to know about this one, is that when I said, 'We've just been to see Legend at the cinema, very violent.'

He said, 'I love violence.'

The other one, Alan, announced that London had broken him, whilst stuffing his face with Burger King fries. 'I fucking hate it. It's fucking shit. Fuck this.'

What a charming, mentally stable bunch.

In other news, Ginger isn't talking to me because I watched the Bake Off final without him.

I'm still laughing at my mug two years after I've bought it:

And I've decided to donate the majority of my hair to charity.

That's right people, I've done something nice.

I keep telling colleagues,'You might have noticed, my hair is short, because I've given it TO CHARITY.'

And their like, 'Yeah, I know, I saw on Facebook.'

And I'm like, 'Right exactly, I just wanted to give something back to the community. Just do the right thing you know?'

And they make an excuse to leave.

Guys, I just feel, that I have become a better, wholesome person, and I can't wait to see what the goodness in me does next.

Maybe I'll start helping people with their heavy suitcases on stairs, instead of walking quickly past, thinking, 'Can't carry it? Don't bring it.'

Maybe I'll do the pots for once, when I'm staying at Mum's, instead of deciding that I'm on holiday so it wouldn't be right.

Oh! Maybe I'll stop lying and blaming my mistakes on others!

No, not that last one. That last one doesn't sit right.

Tuesday, September 22, 2015

Baby Mama (not me)

Now guys, I don't condone bullying in any form.....


I do think a little debate around why people do weird things, so that we can better understand and appreciate their unique qualities, is healthy.

That's why I took photos of a woman who thought her doll was a real baby.

I didn't say they were good photos.

It's hard to be discreet in a queue at the Post Office. I didn't want anyone to think that I was taking pictures in order to ridicule her. What they don't capture, and I apologise for this, is how she kept bouncing the thing up and down and shushing it.

When she got to the counter, she set the doll down.

And the guy at the counter was like MOTHERFRICKIN CHRIST, SHE THINKS IT'S ALIVE. And his eyes went massive and he couldn't speak.


But she didn't, which was the first of several disappointments for me that day.

NOW, as stipulated, I'm talking about this so that we can learn to embrace difference. So I did some research.

And to my horror (I mean, wonderfully open mind) I found an article from 2012 about a shop in Birmingham that sells lifelike dolls, called 'reborn babies'. That's right ladies and gents, another reason not to go to Birmingham.

How are they reborn? I can only imagine that there are dead babies inside the plastic, now reborn as dolls.

'For those who crave absolute realism, Suzanne can even add an electronic device that mimics a heartbeat or make the chest rise and fall to simulate breathing.'

This blog is writing itself!

“I like to make sure my customers are in baby ­heaven from the minute they step through the door, so the shop always smells of baby powder,” she says.

Some of it's actually quite sad, and involves a lot of trauma.


I think we've all grown through this experience (it's also too much work for me to start again with this blog).

Just remember team, a reborn doll's for life, not just for Christmas.

Tuesday, August 25, 2015

Runaway bride

A few things guys.

Bruce (my tomato plant) has eight little sproglets. You won't care about this, but for me, it's a reason to get up in the morning.


Alan made a serious faux pas recently. If you can't remember him (and why would you), the poor little beige man. He's the newest member of the palace I live in, over zealous about running and evening meals.

'What you eating? What's in that? Sausage? Do I smell sausage? I ran an 8 in 4 which is 0.2 seconds off my personal best. Can't go wrong with a bit of sausage.'


He's actually alright to live with.

Apart from recently we had a fruit fly epidemic. Thank God I had Bruce to look forward to at work, because my mornings were suddenly full of fly spray and sweeping up tiny bodies.

Ginger traced the source to Alan's cupboard and found a liquidized banana.

I emailed Alan, and surprisingly I was quite nice! I managed to squash down my inner bitch for the entire correspondence!

I refrained from saying, 'Are you fucktarded?' and signed off with a lightly comical, 'Wanted to let you know, in case you were looking forward to a banana!'

Ha ha. Ha ha.

I have a lot of friends that go around managing to be nice most of the time, and I don't get it. I observe and try to imitate, but I just can't pull it off.


My app reminds me that I'm getting married in 11 days. I think if I am going to change my mind, pre the 10 day mark is fine, and anything after that is quite disruptive. With this in mind, I'm going to have a long hard think today about whether or not I actually want to do this.

It's about time I asked myself that question.

Shall we put it to a vote?

Or I could flip a coin?

I should consider getting out of it as lightly as I got into it really.

Ohhh, I could take Ginger on Jeremy Kyle, and let Jeremy decide. But maybe he's fed up with having so many angry Geordies' on his show already.

I'll sleep on it.