On Tuesday I have to go into hospital to have my broken nose straightened, and I am starting to feel a little nervous. Am seriously considering retiring from competitive battleships as it is just plain dangerous.
I have visions of myself sitting in a chair while a doctor hits my nose with a hammer to get it back in shape.
The worst thing about this is that my nose is not my best feature, so having this already beak-like orifice turn squint has been nothing short of traumatic.
I am seriously considering scamming the nhs for a free nose job. I quite like Disney noses, they are all little and cute. Or I could get a nose just like the queen, pretend I'm her missing daughter, usurp Charles and RULE.
Aahhh I'm hungry.
Thursday 31 May 2012
Sunday 27 May 2012
Snickers taste better than skinny feel
I love and hate this time of year. It's great that the sun comes out, but with sun comes heat, and magazines begin to bully you into going on a bikini diet. That, or wear a poncho, permanently.
My issue with this is that I think I am constantly on a diet...there is the pre Christmas diet, where you aim to lose weight to avoid needing to lose weight after the holidays, and then there's the post Christmas diet because your pre Christmas diet failed. We then begin the spring diet, where fashion magazines encourage you to fit into your 'spring wardrobe'. We finish with the summer bikini diet, and then there is a little break where you hide in chunky knits before beginning your pre Christmas diet.
And if you're like me, you never lose weight because dieting is really boring and snickers bars DO taste better than skinny feels.
Despite this, I am now on my summer diet, where I tell myself I will eat more fruit and less chocolate, and go to the gym twice as much. Usually this lasts a week, and then I do my pretend diet, where I eat normally but pretend that the plate of pasta is actually a salad.
This year I am going on holiday so am taking my summer diet a little more seriously to avoid being harpooned by confused locals when they see me sunbathing.
I had a point when I started writing this blog entry, but I've lost it.
Cheers and goodnight.
My issue with this is that I think I am constantly on a diet...there is the pre Christmas diet, where you aim to lose weight to avoid needing to lose weight after the holidays, and then there's the post Christmas diet because your pre Christmas diet failed. We then begin the spring diet, where fashion magazines encourage you to fit into your 'spring wardrobe'. We finish with the summer bikini diet, and then there is a little break where you hide in chunky knits before beginning your pre Christmas diet.
And if you're like me, you never lose weight because dieting is really boring and snickers bars DO taste better than skinny feels.
Despite this, I am now on my summer diet, where I tell myself I will eat more fruit and less chocolate, and go to the gym twice as much. Usually this lasts a week, and then I do my pretend diet, where I eat normally but pretend that the plate of pasta is actually a salad.
This year I am going on holiday so am taking my summer diet a little more seriously to avoid being harpooned by confused locals when they see me sunbathing.
I had a point when I started writing this blog entry, but I've lost it.
Cheers and goodnight.
Tuesday 22 May 2012
Shakespeare blog entry
I have a new guest space on blogging Shakespeare - check it out, there are loads of interesting pieces there.
Here is my contribution:
http://bloggingshakespeare.com/shakespeares-bridget-jones
Eeeek!!!
On Sunday I was at a university battleships tournament. During a vicious assault on one of my five-peg ships, my nose was sadly broken. A friend of mine now has a fractured jaw. Despite this game being advertised as suitable for ages 3+, it is not for the faint hearted.
Here is my contribution:
http://bloggingshakespeare.com/shakespeares-bridget-jones
Eeeek!!!
On Sunday I was at a university battleships tournament. During a vicious assault on one of my five-peg ships, my nose was sadly broken. A friend of mine now has a fractured jaw. Despite this game being advertised as suitable for ages 3+, it is not for the faint hearted.
Wednesday 9 May 2012
Temple run
Temple run is a game that certain members in my battleships crew are addicted to, and get very competitive as a result. Naturally I decided to get involved by trying to beat their high scores so I could be like 'hahahahaa'.
Sadly this is perhaps not meant to be. I keep running into trees, and the weird monkey things keep waving BBQ sauce at me in an intimidating fashion. I thought I had achieved a score of two million (meaning I would have accomplished my goal) but it turns out I can't count zeros and had a few thousand points.
Whilst playing this game, I started wondering about the runner:
Why did he go to an ape infested temple?
Where is he running too?
Does he have an umbrella in case it rains?
I find the baboon ape monkey whatever things so irritating that I am going to write to the makers of temple run proposing a new game:
Temple CHASE.
Because why would anyone go to an ape infested temple without a tranquilliser? In this fame you get to chase the monkeys and shoot at them with tranquilliser darts. I am using this form of attack to discourage children from becoming influenced by this game and start shooting monkeys with actual guns; my friend works in public health and told me that games and things really do influence people.
This means that the sequels to temple chase will be 'push over a cyclist', 'punch slow walkers in the ass' and 'headbutt rude teenagers'.
:)
Which reminds me, the other day I was almost assaulted by three children outside boots. One of them threw a mcdonalds milkshake at me, while one laughed and the other made an obscene gesture. Not sure why they laughed as they missed and demonstrated why they should be in school being forced to learn how to throw in p.e classes, but I was affronted nonetheless. It also worried me...kids are getting so confrontational these days and it is not safe. For all they knew I could've been a psychopath, in which case they'd have had the trauma of watching a twenty something year old licking milkshake off the floor. Or I could've been crazy aggressive and started ripping bricks down from the wall and biting them. Obviously I just ignored the little shits and walked on, but I found it worrying.
Sadly this is perhaps not meant to be. I keep running into trees, and the weird monkey things keep waving BBQ sauce at me in an intimidating fashion. I thought I had achieved a score of two million (meaning I would have accomplished my goal) but it turns out I can't count zeros and had a few thousand points.
Whilst playing this game, I started wondering about the runner:
Why did he go to an ape infested temple?
Where is he running too?
Does he have an umbrella in case it rains?
I find the baboon ape monkey whatever things so irritating that I am going to write to the makers of temple run proposing a new game:
Temple CHASE.
Because why would anyone go to an ape infested temple without a tranquilliser? In this fame you get to chase the monkeys and shoot at them with tranquilliser darts. I am using this form of attack to discourage children from becoming influenced by this game and start shooting monkeys with actual guns; my friend works in public health and told me that games and things really do influence people.
This means that the sequels to temple chase will be 'push over a cyclist', 'punch slow walkers in the ass' and 'headbutt rude teenagers'.
:)
Which reminds me, the other day I was almost assaulted by three children outside boots. One of them threw a mcdonalds milkshake at me, while one laughed and the other made an obscene gesture. Not sure why they laughed as they missed and demonstrated why they should be in school being forced to learn how to throw in p.e classes, but I was affronted nonetheless. It also worried me...kids are getting so confrontational these days and it is not safe. For all they knew I could've been a psychopath, in which case they'd have had the trauma of watching a twenty something year old licking milkshake off the floor. Or I could've been crazy aggressive and started ripping bricks down from the wall and biting them. Obviously I just ignored the little shits and walked on, but I found it worrying.
Thursday 3 May 2012
Dating guide for boys
1. Do not be late. No woman wants to be lurking outside a pub/restaurant like a prostitute. In addition, we do not want to sit inside to wait for you as we have being-stood-up phobia.
2. Shave. You may think that your stubble is manly, but in fact you look like a homeless person and for us girls, it is like kissing a cheese grater.
3. Don't ask us to make you sandwiches. Ever.
4. If you comment on our weight, you might as well walk away and leave us to foot the bill. You'll pay for that jibe either way.
5. Don't date other girls at the same time as us. It is likely that we will just befriend them and bitch about you.
6. Don't argue: it just won't end well. Generally, us girls try to be tolerant and amiable, to give you a fighting chance.
7. Never say that we are being hormonal, even if we are being hormonal. In fact, if we are hormonal there is all the more reason not to comment on it, as the likelihood of us punching you will be increased.
8. Floss your teeth. No one wants to know what you had for lunch...yesterday.
9. Don't be paranoid, you know we are watching your every move and judging you.
10. Don't try coming into our flat at the end of the first date; we don't know you well and with that stubble we are concerned that you will steal our belongings for drugs money.
2. Shave. You may think that your stubble is manly, but in fact you look like a homeless person and for us girls, it is like kissing a cheese grater.
3. Don't ask us to make you sandwiches. Ever.
4. If you comment on our weight, you might as well walk away and leave us to foot the bill. You'll pay for that jibe either way.
5. Don't date other girls at the same time as us. It is likely that we will just befriend them and bitch about you.
6. Don't argue: it just won't end well. Generally, us girls try to be tolerant and amiable, to give you a fighting chance.
7. Never say that we are being hormonal, even if we are being hormonal. In fact, if we are hormonal there is all the more reason not to comment on it, as the likelihood of us punching you will be increased.
8. Floss your teeth. No one wants to know what you had for lunch...yesterday.
9. Don't be paranoid, you know we are watching your every move and judging you.
10. Don't try coming into our flat at the end of the first date; we don't know you well and with that stubble we are concerned that you will steal our belongings for drugs money.
Tuesday 1 May 2012
The quest to become a WAG
After checking my bank balance I have realised that the next logical step in my life is to become a WAG. I need money, clothes, shoes and the hot footballer part also sounds reasonable to me.
The problem is that I am not really WAG material. I do not look like Cheryl Cole or Posh. I do not think chubby knees can be considered an alternative to big hair.
The other issue is that I'm just not good at sitting and looking pretty. I'm excellent at running about like a mad hatter and sitting down after looking rough as fuck, but sitting pretty is not something I have mastered. I can look reasonably chic, but not every day. There are so many things to spill down your front, and things to trip over resulting in scuffed jeans. For some reason these 'things' always decide to act right before you run into an ex boyfriend, so all ex's think that post break up one has turned into a chaotic mess. Which is annoying, because 90% of the time I do actually manage to look presentable.
The more I think about this the less I want to be a WAG. It just seems really boring aside from getting to go shopping and living in a mansion. I don't think I'd appreciate magazines commenting on what I ate either...realistically I'd be called the fatty WAG because I am not a size zero and I like mars bars.
It looks like I am just going to have to work hard and make my own money. At least that way I still get to eat mars bars.
The problem is that I am not really WAG material. I do not look like Cheryl Cole or Posh. I do not think chubby knees can be considered an alternative to big hair.
The other issue is that I'm just not good at sitting and looking pretty. I'm excellent at running about like a mad hatter and sitting down after looking rough as fuck, but sitting pretty is not something I have mastered. I can look reasonably chic, but not every day. There are so many things to spill down your front, and things to trip over resulting in scuffed jeans. For some reason these 'things' always decide to act right before you run into an ex boyfriend, so all ex's think that post break up one has turned into a chaotic mess. Which is annoying, because 90% of the time I do actually manage to look presentable.
The more I think about this the less I want to be a WAG. It just seems really boring aside from getting to go shopping and living in a mansion. I don't think I'd appreciate magazines commenting on what I ate either...realistically I'd be called the fatty WAG because I am not a size zero and I like mars bars.
It looks like I am just going to have to work hard and make my own money. At least that way I still get to eat mars bars.
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