About Me

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LDN, United Kingdom
I am Shaz. It's hard work. But someone's gotta do it. I am a part time freak and full time retard. I also do some casual work as a skank and I volunteer as your mother. NICE TO MEET YOU! Welcome to the biggest rant factory in the history of the internet. I've got more apathy than the entire emo population of the world combined. Only kidding. I'm real nice

Saturday, 27 November 2010

Come to mama!

Today is a special day as today is my iPhone's birthday. This little bad boy needs a name. And I think I may have the perfect one. He picks me up when I am down. Via the most inane means. He shall be hence forth be called Mini Pras.

Love from Saalene and Mini Pras xxx

Saturday, 20 November 2010

Am I just being silly....

Or have any of you met a memorable tramp? You must have! I remember this one guy in Portsmouth, he'd sit under this bridge where EVERYONE would pass him on their way home from sort of either epic or pathetic night out (I've grown a passionate hatred for the phenomenon that it "clubbing", unless we're impersonating cavemen then I'm not interested..)

So yeah he'd sit in the same spot most nights, with his dog and play his guitar, singing songs that to put it simply were great crowd pleasers. One time on my way home I saw him. And he'd begun singing Oasis' Don't Look Back In Anger. Now how can one resist.

I do vaguely remember standing, crowding round him like he was some kind of social fire singing and basking in the warmth of a common passion for singing this song at some ungodly hour in the freezing cold.

He is one of my memorable tramps.

There is just one more. This one guy who came up to me at Liverpool Street station and tried to sell me a lighter.

First reason I thought this guy was funny was he was selling these lighters at an extortionate price.. 2 pounds. As far as I'm concerned it's 6 for a pound from Poundland. OR in an absolute emergency no more than a pound. But this did make me laugh cause he was clearly out here for a profit.

He was also there for the hard sell. Well you'd have to be right? He's walked into a crowd of smokers and come and asked the one person NOT smoking - I was buying a coffee. Then when I told him I didn't need one he proceeded to tell me why it's always good to have a back up and so on.

He's my second favourite memorable tramp because he is actively doing something to get himself out his dire situation.

Also. Whilst on this topic have you ever had the sneaky Big Issue guys try and pull a fast one on you? The first time I thought it may be a geniunely unfortunate circumstance, the guy comes up to you and he says "Big iiiiiiiiissue"

I think. I'll buy one. Why not. I always think I should but never have change. So I gave this guy two pounds. He then asks me if I don't mind giving him back the copy I just purchased

WHY?

Because he only has the one copy. I, to this day am not sure how I feel about this. But out of the kindness of my heart I let him keep his one copy. However now I avoid Big Issue sellers due to the nature of thie aforementioned event.

Thursday, 18 November 2010

Complaining...

I know I myself complain an awful lot but seriously. Sometimes it gets to the point where you think to yourself "WHY WON'T YOU SHUT UP?!"

We've all got THAT friend. Who's the whiniest bastard on the face of the planet. And these guys have no taboo subjects in their EPIC complaints department.

- the weather
- public transport
- lack of money / love interest / luck
- body image
- food they get and failing that being hungry
- the price of ABSOLUTELY ANYTHING
- other peoples complaints

The worst thing is that list really could go on.

And before I go on let me also add that I myself complain an awful lot. But never to the extent where you'll wanna shoot me in the head! You see I do it in a loveable old lady kinda way!

But I do seriously wonder if I should post this as I'm pretty sure there WILL be much ranting to come.

AH SOD IT.

Monday, 11 October 2010

The facebook stalker.

As much as I hate to admit it this can be me. I hate myself for doing it. But I love coming across the worst kinds of social network humans. And dying inside but laughing at the same time. There are few things that shock me. Maybe this is why I go on the hunt for the most outrageously disgusting / humiliating / stupid / entertaining people on the planet. Sometimes I wish I was boring so I could enjoy the simple joys of a cretin. Instead I find myself being mildly amused while others laugh their socks off. (How one laughs their socks off is beyond me but obviously more feasible than laughing one's arse off. That could get messy)

And then I look at my own profile and wonder what people think. I'd like to say I think I don't care what anyone thinks of me but that'd be a lie because I'd've been too busy getting distracted by my own profile...

I can never do any work because laziness isn't a career option.

Love in a Life – Robert Browning (1812-1889)
Room after room,
I hunt the house through
We inhabit together.
Heart, fear nothing, for, heart, thou shalt find her,
Next time, herself! -not the trouble behind her
Left in the curtain, the couch's perfume!
As she brushed it, the cornice-wreath blossomed anew, -
Yon looking-glass gleamed at the wave of her feather.
II
Yet the day wears,
And door succeeds door;
I try the fresh fortune -
Range the wide house from the wing to the centre.
Still the same chance! she goes out as I enter.
Spend my whole day in the quest, -who cares?
But 'tis twilight, you see, -with such suites to explore,
Such closets to search, such alcoves to importune!


What a lovely poem. This is from my first seminar. And as I'm struggling to write 800 words of UTTER SHITE, I thought I'd share this with you.

BUT.... What I don't understand is, in the poem Browning blatantly just wants to nail his wife.

He's HUNTING HER DOWN. Chasing her through the house.

Cool. I'm down with that. Kinky bastard!

BUT AFTER DOING MY RESEARCH INTO HIS LIFE, I'm reading his wife's an invalid.

DISCUSS.

No seriously, she must be a nifty little mover in that wheelchair of hers.

Tuesday, 14 September 2010

And now for a little bit about the love of my life.

Just kidding. This is Jai.




I'm renting him out. And I charge by the hour. Lemme know if you're interested.

COMPUTER SAYS NO.

My mother thinks I need to cut down on my spending. Why? Despite me seriously honestly not shopping for ANYTHING for myself in the past month - apart from tights, which are a neccesity - my mum refuses to believe me when I say "Oh this? I got this ages ago..."

Now I admit. Most of the time that's a blatant lie. BUT. This time I was telling the truth. My mother seems to have had enough. And this means taking drastic actions. In the form of taking away both my debit cards.

Shocked? I was a little at first. But I know how to work the system. Despite this I'm still not sure how to deal with her irrational behaviour. Because even though I'm a smart motherflipper... I'm still a short tempered one.

And I've decided to fight fire with fire. This week I'm only wearing stuff that I've brought and not worn yet. Even if i do pass out in this one dress that LITERALLY takes my breath away.

The things I'll do to prove a point.

Sunday, 12 September 2010

OLD AND NEW MIX. MAD MASH UP. Please buy my album. It's only a pound. AAAAH SAFE!

Since I was last on here I've managed to break my laptop, smash my phone and lose an awful lot of sleep.


I've also managed to get myself into uni! HUZZAH. Yeah just when the entire world thought I was destined to be a waster, I've managed to get myself into a situation where I'll be a waster with a LOT of debt. Haha.


So good news all around. Now I just need to call up the DVLA and explain to them that I can't remember my government gateway password or ANY of the secret questions they've asked me. Major shiiiiite.


But not nearly as shite as the bastard Student Finance site. I mean this site asked me for a secret answer without giving me a secret question. Well. FUCK YOU VERY MUCH.

But despite all the thing I should be feeling happy for, I'm not allowed to. I've said it once and I'll say it again. ASIAN PARENTS. Trust in me when I say nothing you ever do will suffice. It's the biggest burden in the world. They way yours always complain about EVERYTHING you do. The way you sit, the way you talk, the way you dress, they way you breathe


TIME TO GET MY RANT ONNNNNN.

Stages of a relationship = :) :D :P ;) <3 ;P xD :| :/ :S :( :'(


Just saw this. And well. IT REALLY GRINDS MY GEARS
Shut up fool. No one gives a shit about the guy or girl who hurt you so bad that you have to post or like or share endless shit like this. I'mma actually delete you now. I really need to. Seriously though, the more you post this kinda stuff, the more likely it is that whoever did such an atrocity such as cheating on you or even dumping you will laugh at your self pity. That's if they bloody well see it at all. So just please. For the love of God. Wallow alone. Please? Thankyou.



And I shall indeed carry on ranting.

Tuesday, 6 July 2010

PMS

WHAT IS WITH THIS SHIT?


I won't lie to you. I suffer greatly from this beast of an illness. And sometimes, just sometimes, I do get why some men do the whole "OH MY GOD IS IT THAT TIME OF THE MONTH?" thing.


Sometimes when I'm being irrational it's not even that time of month, I'm just being a dick. I'll admit to it.


But my god, when that time of month rolls around, what is wrong with me? The worst thing is I know I'm overreacting to tripping on the bathroom scales that were left out or someone claiming to have eaten a cake I made for my friends who couldn't make it over to eat it.


No seriously. You don't think I can spazz out over a cake? I can. IT WASN'T EVEN FREAKIN' FINISHED.


I'm telling you maaaaaaaaaan. It's like an out of body experience, I know I'm being a complete PRICK but I just can't stop myself....

Wednesday, 23 June 2010

I want to ride my bicycle.....

I finally thought I understood Freddy Mercury. But alas. I just found more burning passionate hate. I'm still not sure if hate brings people together or not. I'm not sure if love does this either but I'm pretty sure hate brings people together more than love.

What do I hate? Well. It's more my understanding of a heirachy of modes of transport really. You know how motorists hatehateHATE cyclists. Well guess what I as a cyclist have discovered. I hate buggies. And after being a passenger of cars for the best part of 20 years now I don't think ANYONE likes them. I can't say I hate the children inside the pushchairs so much. But I can say loud and proud I hate their mothers. There's a specific type that I hate. To say I hate them all would be unjust. It's these stupid women - and I say women because not yet have I seen ONE MAN do this - who push their buggy. WITH CHILD INSIDE, into the middle of a busy road or at a crossing. What you think I'm gonna stop because you throw your child in front of me? NO. I can't. These poor babies probably don't even realise they're being put at risk just so some retard can cross the road saving them what? 15 seconds?

I say this ranty cyclist crap as if I'm an accomplished one. I am if it means riding all the way from my house to just past East Ham station, no causaulties and one collision with a parked car.

But this is what I want.

£100. eBay.

A bike. So I can get skinny. And be popular. Sorry. TV made me say that.

Monday, 14 June 2010

So online shopping is just like all other things in this world. High expectations WILL result in disappointment. I'm all wound up right? All I want is a pair of red patent heels. Why? I don't even wear heels that often. This is purely to make myself feel better. I'd rather have a fag. But I won't. See when you have a fag, you don't SEE the damage you're doing to yourself. However. A shopping spree always comes back to haunt you in the form of the dreaded bank statement.
I am so sick complaining about this. But sorry. I have to. You know there are a lot of small people in the world. In a way I'm one of them. I can't help it sometimes. It just comes out. But not in a hey-let's-rock-the-table-full-of-someone's-notoriously-intricate-dominos. By this I mean people who are bitchy to someone with the knowledge that the person they are talking about may find out. Maybe they do this intentionally. I wouldn't know. I don't do it.
Like my mother's friends. I never thought it'd be this way round. "Oh I don't like you hanging around with those people. They're a bad influence." Surely mother dearest should be saying this kind of thing to me. Only in theory people. My friends are the finest society has to offer. Most of the time anyway. But yeah. Her friends seemingly HATE ME. Now I know hate is a strong word. But I can only think of this word to describe the way things are simply because it is so damn childish. You gotta understand, there's a minimum of 25 to 30 years age difference between this lot and myself. But this shit is crazy. It's like being at school. But worse. Because when you're at school you keep thinking to yourself "One day I'll be free of these shit heads and never again will I have to endure such bullshit in my day to day life."
Then BAM. Some fucker manages to bring it all flooding back. The back biting. The bitchiness. The twat-face comments that don't even make much sense.
Worst of all of this isn't even the stuff they say to me. Most of the time it's a pretty impressive compliment. "Why did your daughter wear that skirt? Showing off her bum like that... Pssssht." ACTUALLY. I don't have much of an arse. So I'm guessing thanks are in order. BITCH.






Thursday, 8 April 2010

I get knocked down.

And I don't get back up. I hate everyone. I speak fast. Really fast. If you've ever spoken to me then you'll know this is true. If you don't like it THEN FUCK OFF AND DON'T TALK TO ME.

My mum is the latest to criticise me on this. I hate being told this. And more than that I hate how I'm told this in that let-me-stop-you-in-the-middle-of-this-conversation-and-embarrass-you-in-front-of-everyone-in-the-room.

My uncle does this to me aswell.

But the thing that kills me the most is how embarrassed I am about it. You wouldn't mock someone with a stammer. Actually people would. ARGH. You can't even make a point because people are so shit.

I can't help the way I am. And if you don't wanna listen then don't start just to change your mind half way. Just avoid me and we'll both be happy.

My day is now ruined. I refuse to leave my room. Everyone really can just fuck off.

Tuesday, 6 April 2010

KOMAL YOU BLIND SHIT THE POST IS RIGHT HERE MAN!

Why on earth is there so much drama at this time of year?! It doesn’t even make any sense. We all know there are times of the year when drama simply can’t be avoided. But now? Easter? Why can’t you all just eat chocolate, hate yourselves for your disgusting eating habits and then eat more chocolate?!

All the drama has made me think about one thing in particular. Pride. Good thing? Bad thing? I don’t know anymore. When is it good and when is it bad? To have pride in one’s work and oneself is good, but when is it that you have to swallow your pride? It confuses me greatly.

I can tell you one thing, drama is something I severely lack in my life. I think I’m some kind of simpleton. To this very day my family all tell me - “You should look after number one.”

In some ways I’m an adamant believer of this. But I think it’s something missing from a lot of people. Arrogance. It’s a beautiful thing. I love arrogant people. I love being arrogant. I know it’s not something you should aspire to be. In my mind arrogant people are only that way because they have reason to be. Self belief is a wonderous joy everyone should experience. So if you’re reading this and thinking today’s been a bit crap or someone’s pissed you off, just say to yourself “I AM AMAZING.” Truth be told I do say it more often than required but that’s because I truly believe I’m some sort of amazing amazingness.

Oh I love love love joining all these fan pages. Some are witty. Some I really do believe in and support. Some I have joined over and over with some teeny tiny difference in the name (one word… FREDDO. Seems I’m not the only one emotionally scarred by the crazy price increase on what some would argue is the staple diet of 68% of school children – someone once told me “There are lies, fucking lies and then there are statistics”).

So let me share a few of my favourite fan pages!

I don't need you to love me, I can love myself.


Why can't more people think like this? Some people are desperate to get into relationships. So much so that they'll go for ANYTHING. And some of the absolute creeps or hoe-bags these nice and otherwise sane people go for. I mean WHAT WERE YOU THINKING? So yeah. People. Love yourself. Have high standards. And please do prepare to be at least a little disappointed. The way I see it, losers procreate with other losers and create these super losers. And well, the rate at which these evil beings are being produced you're bound to bump into one. Or seven. Probably on the district line. Ha ha.

You don't look Bengali... What's a Bengali supposed to look like?!


Okay so I'm not Bengali. But it's the principal. Someone once told me that I don't look like a pharmacist. And I replied "BLUD LISTEN YEAH JUST CUZ I'M NOT GUJI...." No. I didn't. Does that sound like something I'd say? Do NOT answer that. But what the hell is anything meant to look like? Who knows. But I must admit I do this myself sometimes. An example? Tell me, how many dark skinned gujarati people do you know? Like 2?! I'm so sorry to all the Guji Gangstas reading this I know it seems like you're being discriminated against. Don't worry I hate EVERYONE. Not just you guys. Don't go thinking you're special or anything crazy like that!

THE WHOPPER

This is like CRACK to me. I mean it. I swear to you. I want to marry this burger. It satisfies my needs. Makes me happy when I am sad. I crave it. I love it. I enjoy every second I’m with it. (I’M A FAT LOSER WHO NEEDS A REAL LIFE.)

If I could delete you from my life, that would be amazing.

I know this is probably a very childish thing to discuss but I must admit I have thought this more than once. There are some truly horrendous people in the world. And I’m not talking about the axe-wielding serial killers – who are indeed in their own right bad – but I’m talking about everyday criminals. The guys and girls who just ruin your day, week, month and for the really unfortunate (or really really dumb). What is wrong with these people? They are just horrible. And ridiculous. So yeah. Just die. All the irrational, over-dramatic, queue-jumping, attention-seeking, start-an-arguement-for-nothing, steal-your-parking-space kind of people.

Truth hurts... but not as much as getting fingered by Edward Scissorhands.


Nuff said. This is for the bounce back crowd of people. I don’t know if I’m one of them. But I like to thing I can bounce. Maybe not back. But definitely bouncy.
On to other news. Today on the bus I saw the most amazing sleep. This guy must have been on drugs. I was jealous of how sleepy he was. If you don’t know by now, I love sleep. So yeah this was like pure unadulterated sleep. He wasn’t doing the whole let-me-lean-to-one-side-and-“ACCIDENTALLY”-end-up-sleeping-on-your-shoulder thing. He even managed to fall forward, hit his head on the seat in front of him, grunt and then fall asleep again. Okay so maybe he was on drugs... it WAS the 474.
More transport crappiness in my life. Don’t you just love how there are NO TRAINS running on the weekend? Like none at all? Oh. It’s just me? Hmmm. Well I’m waiting for the Piccadilly line because the Victoria line apparently ran away with the milkman when a little old lady comes up to me asking how she can get to Stockwell. I take her to the map and show her how she can get off at Leicester Square and change for the Northern line. What does she say?

“Aaaaah. No.”

I’m in SHOCK. I don’t know what to say. So I try to explain it to her again. And again she just says “Aaaaah. No.” I just gave up.
A better person would have persevered, but I wanted to go home. The best part of that day was the coffee. I know this is lame, but I finally have a coffee “the way I like it”. You know. There’s a specific one that you like. Well I have it now. And it makes my life richer, in my eyes anyway. Thus making my standards of a rich and fulfilled quite low. Ha ha. If anyone’s interested in getting me a coffee, I lovelovelove a large latte with a shot of Amaretto syrup from Cafe Nero. Failing that I’ll happily accept a large latte with a shot gingerbread syrup from Costa. I’ve yet to find a coffee I enjoy from Starbucks. I do love these shots of syrupy sunshine though.

SAALENE. OVER AND OUT. AND PROUD. AHHAHAHAHAA xxx

Thursday, 25 March 2010

GETTING BACK ON THIS TING.

This one's for Naz and Komal.

Jeeze, you'd think I was writing a bloody book or summat, the way I'm putting these dedications to people at the beginning!

But yeah, it's down to you two - and your incessant facebooking - that I'm writing this.

I know that looks like incestual facebooking, 'cause when I read it back I did go... "WHATTHE-" but yeah. What would incestual facebooking be? Being married to your brother?

So yeah this is the first note in a fair while. So I'm just gonna go with it.

Let's begin. My mind will wander. Consider this a warning.

With the above question being about relationship statuses I wanted to know what's the deal with DTR.

"What's DTR?!" I hear you all whisper to each other with that urgency that you only get with "I-don't-know-this-Am-I-the-only-one-who-doesn't-know-what-this-is" syndrome.

Let's ask... THE URBAN DICTIONARY!

Gosh if this bloody site taught chemistry I could've gone somewhere with my life - we'll get to this discussion later.

URBAN DICTIONARY SAYS....


YEP. It's when you decide with your other half how to let the book of faces and everyone on it know

HOW SERIOUS YOUR RELATIONSHIP IS.

Please note - this is not to be confused with any other DTR, especially "Destroy The Rednecks", I like Rednecks. I mean what a friendly bunch of people, you can tell by the way the keep furniture on their "porch"... they want you to feel at home even before you step through the front door! Now THAT'S what I call thoughtful.

Anyways. I see this in a magazine and sit confused by it for lets say 2 and a half minutes. I try to laugh it off proclaiming loudly "Who cares about relationship statuses on facebook?". We all laugh. Then suddenly all chortles and chuckles come crashing down, as we all stop and realise than in fact at some point be it a week ago or a year ago there has been a drama involving a relationship status.

And this is when I realised that in some circumstances is can be a very delicate subject. Which of course is ripped to shreds by what is your cyber-neighbours. See what I did there. Think of Facebook and other networking sites as the set of Eastenders. Everyone gets their chance to air their dirty laundry in the form of a storyline status - you know the whole "BlahBlahBlah Spakleface dnt nd bitches n hoes lyk u in ma lyf. Get me. KMT. Fuckin hoooess. I LOVE MY BABBIII"

Dear God, should I ever hit a low as demonstrated by the above atrocity that is and will again be someone's status you have my permission to SLAP ME WITH A KIPPER.


But yeah. Let's get back to the point. Have you or have you not ever found yourself going "OH MY GOD WHAAAAAAAAAAAT?" about someone's relationship status.

Be it the couple at work, school, college or uni who you thought would NEVER split.
And also with that the whole "WHODUNNIT?!"
Who pulled the trigger. Or clicked the button. Or who didn't. Because I know one couple where both even after splitting refused to change the status of their relationship, therefore rendering it a relationSHIT. Idiot people.

Or the two most random people - that you may love or hate or even worse a COMBINATION of the two - coming together. Just to clarify a combination IS worse, because your friend will get pissy when you take the piss out of their piss-take of a choice for a lover. SI?

Then there's the many many MANY misunderstandings when it comes to this thing that is a relationship status.

I myself have been the victim of such a misunderstanding.

True story! - I love saying that. A family friend mistook this...



... as me coming out.

I'll pause for you all to get your giggles out. But it was actually quite nice because said family friend was really nice about it. So she goes up to my uncle at the station and gives it, "Oh I'm so happy for Saalene for coming out." And I won't quote because I wasn't there but it was along the lines of "It must be so hard to be accepted into the asian community with this kind of situation" yahdah yahdah yaaa.

Who cares if I'm not a lesbian. I'm just happy that I've got some support should I ever choose to be. Now tell me how many young asian people in East London have that privilege?!

And to add to the whole DTR shizz - which I think is complete bollocks about a serious issue, the bollocks being the need to define the relationship the serious issue that is the relationship status, my cousin told me about this. I just had to put it up.



Yeah okay Cheryl. Your mans a fool. Put on your sunglasses back on and find your pride and wear it like a pair of fabulous Jimmy Choos.

In fact. Lets do this like one of the many glossy mags SHOULD have told her to do - like they tell all the other women to do right?.

+ listening to





because god only knows this track is the one that will guarantee you make on HELL of a plan for revenge - which is healthy. the girls too nice. let her be a bit of a bitch for a while.. I'm sure she's picked SOMETHING up from Mr Cowell.


+ eating a whole load of



and I mean a lot. because I see ribs. and they're not on my plate.

= HAPPY CHAPPY CHERYL AGAIN.


To be honest a whole load of bitchiness wouldn't go a miss either because anyone who thinks THOSE UNDERPANTS are sexy needs to seek counselling.

STOP THE PRESS!

After reading over some of my last posts I've come to realise that there's one thing that ALWAYS comes up.

FOOD.

Why oh why am I so obsessed with the stuff?

I had an argument with my mother yesterday. A regular occurrence for those of you who are regular readers of this. But I'm telling you I take emotional eating to another level.

I started the evening making myself a jacket potato with lots of nice good-for-you veg.
Then the argument started.
And ended.
But it didn't, because I decided I didn't want to eat. Then I wanted to eat everything. Then I wanted half of everything.








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