Wednesday, December 10, 2014

You my side kick for life

Shortly after Ginger Beard proposed I told him:

'Things are going to change around here.'

Alas, when he told me he was heading out with with friends yesterday I thought to myself let him have one more night with friends before he never sees them again. That's the nice thing to do, a final farewell.

Because deep down, deep, deep, deep, deep down, I'm a nice person.

I immediately regretted it, when I looked up in the shower to find that a gigantic spider was walking along the ceiling to get me. Several of its legs kept losing grip on the plaster, and at points it would just dangle mockingly in front of my face.

I obvs couldn't take a picture, but I have located a replica:



I sang out, "Oh my God, oh my dear God!" in a loud, operatic style, thus discovering where the urban myth about the erotic powers of Herbal Essences had derived from.

Ginger Beard did not come to the rescue. And why not? Because I'd let him say goodbye to his mates.

Stupid me, I thought, he would've seen them in a year or so, at the wedding. That should've been enough.

And so, I was alone, and through the sheer terror of my situation, I was finally able to utilise the skills, that three plus years working in Resourcing had armed me with.

Firstly, I pulled off the domed cap of my shaving gel, reached up, and trapped the monster within it, flush to the ceiling. With my other hand, I deftly squashed the bottom of my tube of face wash flat, scooped this under the cap, and brought the trap down. I had the little fucker.

Now, I don't usually kill spiders. Why? Because as they die, they emit a message to all spiders within the vicinity, and that message is, "When she's asleep, I want you to crawl inside her mouth, and up her nose, and choke her to death with your bodies." I''M SERIOUS.

So I flushed him down the loo.

It's not really my fault, because we all know what spiders do once they've landed on your head:

1, Spit their babies into your ears.
2. Bite your eyes
3. Go to sleep under your skin

In a way, it was also me saying farewell. Farewell to independence, and really, having to look after myself ever again. After I hand in my notice at work, and start to live off his wage, I think I'm going to feel truly fulfilled.

So far I have won approx twenty disagreements, by simply removing the ring, and handing it back.

GENIUS.

Try it.





Thursday, December 04, 2014

Are you sitting comfortably?



As annoying as it is to be penned in by two broad shouldered men on the tube (may be your idea of a swell time - not judging), I tend to blame the narrow seats, think of a creative way to retrieve my phone from my pocket, and accept it. Super wide thighs is where I draw the line.

So I was chuffed, nay, thrilled, to discover that in NYC, this type of alarming and selfish behaviour is being challenged.

Officials might even be making train announcements:

"Shut your legs boys!"  Or something similar. I can't get hold of any exact wording at the present time.

The campaign has been titled, 'Something new, something fresh.' Totes bizarre. 

Why do so many men do this? Do they all have mega schlongs?

One man has commented on the article -  #Freethepenis. 

Free it all you like, but not to the point where I become familiar with it.

It has provoked a lot of American men to go crazy with rage and demand that fat women stop wearing tight clothes, and low tops. 

I particularly like this one from a nice, Christian lady -  "I have a pretty thorough understanding of what's between a man's legs, and, believe me, most of ya'lls knees can touch just fine."

And

"...spread his legs further and further apart, like he was about to bring a life into the world."

I'm not taking sides. I hate everyone on the tube, just for being there, and thus don't discriminate.

My consistent anger is such that if anyone does anything remotely nice to me during the commute, it's almost guaranteed that I will cry. Not usually at the time, but when I'm remembering it later that day.

One time I cried at a man because I was having a claustrophobic panic attack and he told me that everything would be alright. He was with his two young kids, who weren't crying, but they were probably emotionally stable.

A runner high fived me on Sunday. I don't know why. But I was super smug, because Ginger Beard had been ignored. GB said, "I definitely thought he was trying to hit you."

Two perspectives there, one from someone who is desperately trying to see the lingering good in mankind, and one who 100%, every god damn day, kill me know please, HATES London.



Tuesday, December 02, 2014

The birds and the bees


Sometimes your friends make drunken mistakes, and other people suffer.

When my friends were drunk, they decided to buy expensive tickets to a James Blunt concert.

When one of them "couldn't" make it, it was left to me, dear reader, to man up, and take the other.

What I didn't realise is that there would be no turning back.

I'm afraid to say that I:

1. Had a good time
2. Thought he was funny
3. Liked the new material

It's too late for me. But it's not too late for you. Beef up your iPod with something street, like Miley Cyrus, and try to move on with your life.

I'll just be over here, getting, well, more than a little teary at 'Goodbye My lover.'

If you don't know that song, things are looking very good for you indeed.

I asked Google, "How can I be more street?" But it is only willing to tell me how to be more street smart, or how to be a street fighter.

Tip number 10 for how to be more street smart is, "If in doubt, run and shout."

If I shouted and ran away every time I doubted myself, my throat would erode, and no one would ever catch me.

Maybe this isn't the best website. There's a quiz on here to decide if you want to lose your virginity or not:

3. You've Got a Plan If You or Your Sweetie Gets Pregnant


That's a pretty disgusting turn of phrase. I don't think I would want to have sex after reading that. 

7. You're Prepared to Have a Terrible Time

A terrible time? Probs doing it wrong.

8. You're OK With Having Your Partner in Your Life Forever

That is some heavy shit.

If you've found these questions useful prompts, please feel free to visit the site here:


It's only time for blimin' Sleep of the week!!



This weeks' is extra special. Firstly, because I'm in it. I've circled my face, because I don't want you to miss me.

Secondly, because it's dedicated to one of Ginger Beard's colleagues who said that it was inappropriate and unfair to take pictures of sleeping people on the tube. I'd like to address this by saying that people can take my photo, whether I'm asleep or awake, and ridicule me online whenever they do so wish. There, that should do it.

This is Michelle. She is dreaming that she is kissing her teen crush - Paul Jesmond. In reality, she is kissing her own bag. 

If I'm not mistaken, this is the very same girl who was going to try and seduce the guy with a bag full of chicken, with a cheeky leg rub:



Michelle's only gone and got her own chicken now, and by the looks of it, significantly more.

Good for you Michelle!

Still sponsored by Durex - 'Respect it, Protect it.'