Thursday, 12 April 2012
the last week
The last week has been clouded both literally and metaphorically; the weather has been crap and I have had a lot of work to do. So I have not had a lot of fun.
On Saturday I went shopping to cheer myself, and bought a FAB dress which obviously brightened my day.
However.
One of the security tags was not removed.
This meant that I was wandering about town setting off every shop alarm I encountered. The Zara security guard went through my bags to see what I'd been nicking, despite the fact that I hadn't even gone into Zara; I just walked past.
This has led me to conclude that security tags are too powerful, and too well hidden if even shop assistants don't manage to remove all of them. We need a new anti-theft system and I think I have the answer:
Random arrests. If we keep randomly locking people up, we'll probably catch half the criminals out of luck. And if you are arrested by mistake, you get your shopping for FREE. Win-win.
Thursday, 5 April 2012
Channel hopping
Channel hopping is a dangerous thing, especially late at night. The safest thing to do is to remain watching south park, and then go to bed before midnight.
Television starts to get freaky at midnight.
Firstly, there are all these shopping channels, trying to sell you crap that you don't need. Like monthly deliveries of make up, and monthly Zumba CDs. I like make up and I like Zumba, but monthly deliveries wold bankrupt me, and no amount of zumba with a beautifully made up face is going to help that.
Tonight I stumbled onto a sex show. Not porn or anything like that, it was one of those educational ones. And it worried me. Apparently I have a prostate that I never knew about. I thought only men had them. Which means I could get prostate cancer. And then I started worrying, because what if other people don't know that girls have prostates, and don't notice if I get the prostate cancer. While I was having a panic attack and googling where my prostate is, the show started talking about female ejaculation, and saying if feels like peeing. And looks like peeing. And could well be peeing, but happily. Not sure I want any of that.
Now being told by another shopping channel that if I buy their product I will look younger, be more relaxed and feel good about myself. It is a 'magic wand'. Pretty sure all the women in the advert have had Botox, so instead of buying their 70 pound cream I might just save up for that. Or get hold of some black widow spiders (botulin poison = Botox!) and start up my own salon.
To conclude, don't stay up late, and never ever watch channel five!!! Unless you are watching the hotel inspector. That, of course, is acceptable.
Or Colombo.
Television starts to get freaky at midnight.
Firstly, there are all these shopping channels, trying to sell you crap that you don't need. Like monthly deliveries of make up, and monthly Zumba CDs. I like make up and I like Zumba, but monthly deliveries wold bankrupt me, and no amount of zumba with a beautifully made up face is going to help that.
Tonight I stumbled onto a sex show. Not porn or anything like that, it was one of those educational ones. And it worried me. Apparently I have a prostate that I never knew about. I thought only men had them. Which means I could get prostate cancer. And then I started worrying, because what if other people don't know that girls have prostates, and don't notice if I get the prostate cancer. While I was having a panic attack and googling where my prostate is, the show started talking about female ejaculation, and saying if feels like peeing. And looks like peeing. And could well be peeing, but happily. Not sure I want any of that.
Now being told by another shopping channel that if I buy their product I will look younger, be more relaxed and feel good about myself. It is a 'magic wand'. Pretty sure all the women in the advert have had Botox, so instead of buying their 70 pound cream I might just save up for that. Or get hold of some black widow spiders (botulin poison = Botox!) and start up my own salon.
To conclude, don't stay up late, and never ever watch channel five!!! Unless you are watching the hotel inspector. That, of course, is acceptable.
Or Colombo.
Saturday, 31 March 2012
Saturday 31st but also Friday 30th because it's night time
Today I visited a television set, and realised after I left that it would have been a great opportunity to write a blog entitled 'a day in the life of a television star', but because I thought of this too late it is not possible.
Instead I am going to write about ageism. I am in the prime of my youth, and yet certain individuals are implying that I am OLD. And, because I am single and independent I am accused of being a potential cat lady.
Firstly, I have decided that this is sexist because single men are never called cat men, and also it is ageist because it implies that being older, wiser, and bollocks I can't think of anything else, just older and wiser, is a negative thing. Secondly, it implies that being single is a bad thing, thus indicating that independence is unnatural because we should all be getting married.
My issue with 'getting married' is that boys are generally stupid. And they don't like it if you hide in cupboards and jump out at them, even though it clearly IS funny. And they eat all your food, and bring mud into your home. However, they are good at getting rid of spiders and fixing things, so there are some positives.
I have just been informed that women are stupid too. This is true, however, men have been educated for a lot longer in history than us girls, so I think they have less of an excuse to be stupid.
In other news, term has just finished and I'm reeeeally going to miss teaching. I might just start sitting out in town in case any pedestrians want to be taught about Shakespeare.
Instead I am going to write about ageism. I am in the prime of my youth, and yet certain individuals are implying that I am OLD. And, because I am single and independent I am accused of being a potential cat lady.
Firstly, I have decided that this is sexist because single men are never called cat men, and also it is ageist because it implies that being older, wiser, and bollocks I can't think of anything else, just older and wiser, is a negative thing. Secondly, it implies that being single is a bad thing, thus indicating that independence is unnatural because we should all be getting married.
My issue with 'getting married' is that boys are generally stupid. And they don't like it if you hide in cupboards and jump out at them, even though it clearly IS funny. And they eat all your food, and bring mud into your home. However, they are good at getting rid of spiders and fixing things, so there are some positives.
I have just been informed that women are stupid too. This is true, however, men have been educated for a lot longer in history than us girls, so I think they have less of an excuse to be stupid.
In other news, term has just finished and I'm reeeeally going to miss teaching. I might just start sitting out in town in case any pedestrians want to be taught about Shakespeare.
Wednesday, 21 March 2012
Sea monkeys and Jeremy Kyle
I have three pregnant sea monkeys, and I don't know who the fathers are. It may be the same boy sea monkey. If the sea monkey babies are not provided for, I will have to take my aquarium on the 'Jeremy Kyle Show'.
Ate three cupcakes forgetting I need to fit into a dress for a dance on Friday. Now ordering lots of vegetables in my online shopping to undo this.
Am going to start my own version of Jeremy Kyle. I've thought about this before, and finally have a proper plan:
1. DNA tests will be replaced with a coin toss. Heads: you are the father of this child.
2. Swearing will not be bleeped out, but the one who swears will find their seat ejects them five feet in the air.
3. Physical confrontations will result in the individuals being made to fight it out in a pool of cat food.
4. There will be no lie detector tests: whoever can hold their breath for the longest will be declared the truthful party.
5. Jeremy Kyle will be replaced with David Cameron. My aforementioned points probably involve methods he is familiar with in his capacity as prime minister.
That is all.
Monday, 19 March 2012
Back
Got home from a weekend away today. Am a bit hungover and am beginning to wonder if my memory of a sophisticated evening of wine and sensible chat may be slightly inaccurate.
Have become addicted to Susanna Gregory's medieval murder mysteries. I like that within two to three pages she'll usually have killed off at least one character, no messing. It means I do not get bored reading about scenery.
I find books quite funny sometimes, because they are so centred around action, scene, dialogue etc that mundane things like morning showers, face washing, breakfast, lunch etc are rarely mentioned. Yet I can read an entire chapter telling me what the weather is like, and how beautiful the big blue sky is. The characters in books are clearly much more interesting than me as my life tends to follow a boring routine of get up, brush teeth, shower, eat breakfast, uni work, have lunch, uni work, dinner, gym, TV time and bed. This is why I struggle to write because half of the time I am eating food. This creates a twofold writers block: 1. because I don't want to write about food all the time, and 2. I can't write when I'm eating food. Also I'm living in the UK so there isn't often a big blue sky to speak of, although today it was a little bit blue, and yellow and white as well.
In other news, my sea monkeys have started having sex. I leave them unsupervised for one weekend and this is how they behave. Clearly they are not old enough to be trusted yet.
Have become addicted to Susanna Gregory's medieval murder mysteries. I like that within two to three pages she'll usually have killed off at least one character, no messing. It means I do not get bored reading about scenery.
I find books quite funny sometimes, because they are so centred around action, scene, dialogue etc that mundane things like morning showers, face washing, breakfast, lunch etc are rarely mentioned. Yet I can read an entire chapter telling me what the weather is like, and how beautiful the big blue sky is. The characters in books are clearly much more interesting than me as my life tends to follow a boring routine of get up, brush teeth, shower, eat breakfast, uni work, have lunch, uni work, dinner, gym, TV time and bed. This is why I struggle to write because half of the time I am eating food. This creates a twofold writers block: 1. because I don't want to write about food all the time, and 2. I can't write when I'm eating food. Also I'm living in the UK so there isn't often a big blue sky to speak of, although today it was a little bit blue, and yellow and white as well.
In other news, my sea monkeys have started having sex. I leave them unsupervised for one weekend and this is how they behave. Clearly they are not old enough to be trusted yet.
Monday, 12 March 2012
Birthdays and a Story
Tomorrow is my birthday. This means that people are supposed to be nice to me, give me cards and buy me things. Whilst this is great, I don't understand why I only get to have one and the Queen has two. Surely when you reach a certain ages you'd want to limit yourself when it came to birthdays. People born on the 29th Feb have definitely got it right.
I am quite looking forward to my birthday, as it will be a normal day: work, bit of studying, etc, but with the addition of alcohol and cake. Guilt-free calories. And no one can call me a fat bastard for having cake for breakfast.
However, I would like to take the time to acknowledge that there are some people out there who are not as privileged as a lot of us.
They have not been invited to my super-awesome night out, and I feel bad for them.
On a different note, I would now like to tell you a tale of two people I know:
The Story of Fagin and Nancy
Fagin was a peasant. Nancy was a prostitute.
Nancy was not a good prostitute as she often annoyed the queen of everything by insinuating that she was old, when the queen clearly did not look a day over twenty. This meant that Nancy was often confined to a shed. Fagin, however, was an excellent peasant. He was talented at stealing coats, alcohol and plastic ducks.
In Oliver Twist, Fagin and Nancy are together until Fagin gets cross and kills Nancy.
Mark, you better watch.
I am quite looking forward to my birthday, as it will be a normal day: work, bit of studying, etc, but with the addition of alcohol and cake. Guilt-free calories. And no one can call me a fat bastard for having cake for breakfast.
However, I would like to take the time to acknowledge that there are some people out there who are not as privileged as a lot of us.
They have not been invited to my super-awesome night out, and I feel bad for them.
On a different note, I would now like to tell you a tale of two people I know:
The Story of Fagin and Nancy
Fagin was a peasant. Nancy was a prostitute.
Nancy was not a good prostitute as she often annoyed the queen of everything by insinuating that she was old, when the queen clearly did not look a day over twenty. This meant that Nancy was often confined to a shed. Fagin, however, was an excellent peasant. He was talented at stealing coats, alcohol and plastic ducks.
In Oliver Twist, Fagin and Nancy are together until Fagin gets cross and kills Nancy.
Mark, you better watch.
Thursday, 8 March 2012
the hierarchy of Lisa's World - UPDATED
In life, there are always hierarchy's, and after recently hearing about a drunken row on the topic of social status, I am typing up the official guide to rank:
Queen of everything
Ninjas
Farm girl and farm boy
Teacher in the school
Renters
Pupils in the school
Fagin
Peasants
Nancy the prostitute
Prostitutes
Corpses (otherwise called lazy prostitutes)
Scarecrows
Mud
Currently I am watching Jeremy Kyle, which just shows how much I do not want to do my uni work.
I updated this, and am not still watching Jeremy Kyle. I am eating a birthday cupcake.
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