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

Friday, 30 December 2011

And so it is.

My time at Lush is now over. I have in spite of what I may have stated earlier in the festive season - really enjoyed my Christmas holidays. I've met some really cool people. And some not so cool ones. Mostly young customers. Spawn of the devil to different degrees as I recall.

The top three include:
- the two kids who didn't know each other but decided in unison to refuse to let go of a bath bomb in the demo bowl and thus turning both of their hands blue, leaving me to scrub their hands for a half hour only to have the cheeky sod ask me for some moisturiser after.

- the aptly named "Cannibal Child" who just KEPT biting her dad's hand to the point she almost broke the skin. I mean first of all WHY IS YOUR CHILD DOING THAT? And secondly WHY ARE YOU NOT SAYING ANYTHING? Don't chuckle. Don't smile a painful smile and pretend there's nothing to be done. TELL HER OFF. The same kid also dipped her hand into a jug of bubbles and then wiped it all on some other poor unsuspecting shopper who I assume she thought was her mother. I'm only assuming this to give the brat SOME credit. To be honest it could be that she has no concept of boundaries.

- and last but not least my favourite-not-so-favourite little bastard child. So this family come in. Mum, dad, girl - maybe 12 or 13 and boy maybe 7 or 8. And we're looking at all the lovely fresh face masks (PLUG PLUG PLUG). Mum says to girl "You can get one if you want." but she storms off. I don't understand why. But when you read on you'll soon realise there's no real point in looking too much into anything this despicable little shit does. So a few minutes later the boy comes back and his eye is all red. I ask him if he's okay and he just looks down at the ground and says nothing. His dad walks in and announces to his wife that her daughter has just sprayed perfume in her brother's eye. THE WORST THING IS SHE DIDN'T SHOW ANY CARE. No angry protesting of her innocence, no offer of an excuse, not even any sort of guilt.

What is this? Why are kids allowed to act like this. I mean some of it is just kids being kids - making mistakes and messes. But some of it is just a dire need for some real discipline. I'm not saying hit them - but I'm telling you now if that little cannibal bitch bit me I'd smack her into next week - but seriously, TELL THEM OFF. FOR THE SAKE OF THE REST OF HUMANITY!

That is all.

Monday, 12 December 2011

The akward moment when...

... someone you know genuinely believes they coined a hairstyle or a way of doing their eyeliner. And therefore no one else could possibly even think of tying their hair up in that way. Or putting a certain kind of flick on their eyeliner. Or wearing a certain shade of lipstick.. (I know I said something not so lovely about a girl wearing Mac's Ruby Woo lipstick the other day but I didn't say it the sense that I'M THE ONLY ONE WHO CAN WEAR IT ARRRGH IT'S MINE but more in a "Oh damn. That's just nasty...."

I do like it though. And encourage others to try it. It's awesome. Just don't slather it on like there's some kinda mystical relationship where the amount on your face is directly proportional to the amount of guys you want on your face....



Thursday, 8 December 2011

When I grow up...

I don't care for being famous. Or being a star. Or being in movies.

I JUST WANNA FEEL LIKE A PIMP.

I blame 50 Cent.

You motherlovers are gonna LOVE this.

Am I the only one who didn't know about this ASOS Market place shizz? IF SO... WHY WASN'T I INFORMED?

I just stumbled across it as I was searching for a Kanye tee. Which I going back to H&M to hunt down because it hurts my heart to think I can't get Kanye on my chest even if I have to pay for it...

BUT YEAH. Check out these gems!



https://marketplace.asos.com/listing/t-shirts/ay-gal-wa-appen-baby/156406





https://marketplace.asos.com/listing/t-shirts/debbie-harry-blondie-faded-black-new-graphic-t-shirt-unisex/155655





https://marketplace.asos.com/listing/t-shirts/droplet-face-t-shirt/105969


I do love me a lickle bit of a treasure hunt!

The luckiest girl in the world.

"According to ancient Greek mythology, humans were originally created with 4 arms, 4 legs and a head with two faces. Fearing their power, Zeus split them into two separate parts, condemning them to spend their lives in search of their other halves."

I can't tell a lie. I feel like the luckiest girl in the world. I hope that others can find such happiness.

Thursday, 1 December 2011

APPLICATION FOR A WRITING INTERNSHIP.

Enjoy peeps! xxx

By the way thanks to all my mass text massive for the mad love and support.

I sound like I'm getting a VMA. Must dash I think that giant foil man running at me is Kanye.

I joke. I love Kanye.

***

Hello my name is Saalene. Pronounced Sha-La-Knee and spelt wrong – or authentically as he likes to call it – by my father. It is now my burden – with an awkwardly spelt name comes the awkward responsibility of correcting people when they attempt to say it.



I am currently reading English at Westminster University – and I am the kind of person who is saddened that that phrase -“reading” a subject – is not used nearly as much as it should be. Not because I am a hardcore fanatic of such dying phrases. I just like it.



When asked in my first year what my favourite book was, I panicked. I was told by the girl sitting next to me, “Just think of what your favourite book was to read as a child…” followed by a big cheesy grin and also an anecdote about a dead aunt whom she was named after. Well at this point
my mind was alive with
such
literary classics such as ‘The Very Hungry Caterpillar’, ‘A
Piece of
Cake’, what seems like a ridiculous amount of ‘Goosebumps’ books, but you can’t mention those at the risk of sounding like a 7 year old. I thought fast – and interesting because on this kinda course you wanna be that person – and I chose to talk about a Shakespeare sonnet. Sonnet 130. He basically disses his woman but says he wouldn’t want her any other way. Some swoon and say “Aw! True love!” not me, I’d chase the currish doghearted codpiece! I like to think a passing ghost from this period is making some sort of noise one would expect to hear from the audience of The Jeremy Kyle – which I love by the way, voyeurism at it’s very best.



I digress – I do this a lot, it should have it’s own medical tests and diagnosis – but let me get back to the point. My actual favourite thing to read as a child was this first aid book at my nan’s house. I was obsessed with it then and would happily read one now. Why I haven’t got a certified first aid
qualification is beyond
me, but I guess I can make my own wish come true now – thanks to the advancements in Microsoft Paint. What is the point to all me dithering on so? Reading is not only about fiction. Reading is something we do all the time. I enjoy words and the different things you can make with them. Much like those awkward culinary moments students have when they look in their cupboards and wonder what tomato soup and Nutella can do together to make dinner. You may wretch, I say eat the Nutella straight out of the jar – it saves on washing up.



If you’re really hungry borrow some bread to have with your soup – actually they may not want it back after.

Wednesday, 30 November 2011

What is it about (wo)men?

Some of the disgusting - and yeah I will use that word because frankly that's what it is - things I've seen th female species do in the last few weeks. Damn.

Seriously.
Cheating. Bitching. Lying. Manipulating. Shit stirring. Stealing.

And it's always the emotional crimes. Just pure headache.

Some girls just cannot HELP being bitchy. I believe this is a technique employed by such women to identify others of similar levels of self esteem so they can just stick together just some kinda morbid blood clot, waiting to cause some kind of horrific damage when they embed themselves in some poor unsuspecting functioning group.

And it's the things they are bitchy about that both horrify and I've gotta admit impress me. They'll find ANYTHING. I mean ANYTHING.

"She's wearing the same belt as me"
If your's isn't a bespoke one of a kind design then shut up. Ah bah bah. But nothing. I get that you're insecure about your looks. But if you are so willing to tell everyone your standard beg-for-a-compliment line "Nah babe. I'm ugly." then how very dare you put another woman down because she happens to shop at the same shop as you. LIKE THOUSANDS OF OTHER WOMEN. I'm not gonna lie. This is one of the ones that pisses me off the most.

And that beg thing. SUCH A BEG. The ghetto term for it sums is up so well. You get them. And they do my head in. The more you go on about how pathetic your life is doesn't make me more sympathetic. It just makes me think you're really pathetic. And why do people think this is their lives forever. They seem to forget
a) nothing is forever
b) you're not a teenager anymore, stop with the angst already. GROW UP.

The girls who call themselves ugly are truly the ugliest as they are the most desperate.

Another classic. "Well the reason i hate THAT bitch is because 7 years ago she gave me a dirty look. About your contact lens was dry. KMT"
Never letting things go is something that I feel strongly. As stubborn as I am I am capable of cooling down and then working things out. But I can't if people just keep hating me for something I may have said or a mistake that I've made. Yeah well done you've made me look like a dickhead for now. Big whoop. But these twats fail to remember the times I've been there for them. I don't. And I hate them for being so flippant about it. It's easy to call me a bitch or to bitch about me and be horrible. But you've lost me. And I'm FUCKING AWESOME.

And on that note I shall cease my ranting. God knows I could go on.

This has been therapeutic. Thanks for reading.

And by the way any Internet trolls looking to leave a nasty comment for cheap thrill.. I suggest you go find your mother. Can't get much cheaper.

I can't guarantee any sort of thrill though.

Friday, 21 October 2011

Just one of them weeks.

And so it is.. Life. Shit happens right.

It's just a week of total crap being thrown my way..
There's little things that piss me off. And huge things. It's when everything comes together you just wanna punch life in the face.

BROS BEFORE HOES
Or sisters before misters in this case.
Why do girls do it? So many of them do it. A guy will come along and BAM, the world goes out of the window. Not all of us do. I always thought I was surrounded by people who are better than that. And a lot are. But there's always that one who will come along and shake things up. It's not to say that things are ruined. Just messy. I feel silly for being so pissed off with the whole being blown out thing. To be honest I think my pride was hurt at the time. And can you blame me? Having someone tell you repeatedly that they miss you and wanna meet up with you to be blown off for a guy? Not even ANY prior notice. Like literally walking out. I don't know why I was so upset by the whole thing for SO LONG. I mean yeah of course you'll initially be pissed off. It took a stupidly long time to get over this. Now with the help of a beautiful man - every woman needs one - I understand that people are crap. They will paint over cracks. They don't change. They're not always grateful.

Then I have a friend who has travelled thousands of miles all the way to London. I haven't seen her in 3 years. She doesn't want to see me. Why? Because I didn't reply to a message. Now I'm not gonna lie. This hurt me. I don't wanna admit that but it did. I am now gonna sound like a complete bitch. I did a lot for her. I know I did. And I do for a lot of people. I'm not a saint in any way. I'm not even that great. I just always get shat on by people because I'm either being too nice or too stupid, probably the latter.

Definately the latter. My mother was right. Don't tell her.

I get attached to my friends. I'm allowed to right? But sometimes I pick really shit ones that look good. And then when they hurt me. I'm real hurt.

Will it ever end? Who knows.

I'm just grateful that some of these rocks I find are actual gems.


OH AND I JUST CLEARED EVERYTHING ON MY PHONE AND I AM NOT IMPRESSED.


¬_¬

Sunday, 9 October 2011

It seems to me everyone else has a family to support them no matter what their dreams and aspirations may be. My family like to throw dirt in my face and then tell me it my own fault.

It seems to me everyone else has a family to support them no matter
what their dreams and aspirations may be. My family like to throw dirt
in my face and then tell me it my own fault.

To put it simply it's the projection of their own petty insecurities.

But it's just horrible. Right now all I want is to finish my degree,
get into employment and then start working towards my main goal. To
own my own house.

In the last few weeks I've had so much shit from those closest to me.
And I don't wanna even try to justify their actions. 'Cause there is
no justification. My brother telling me I'm a failure cause I dropped
out of my previous course?

Seemingly EVERYONE telling me I won't be able to buy my own place.

And then blaming it on my excessive spending.

I did have a problem. I admit that. But I've learnt from my mistakes.

And there's only one thing that makes me slip up again in that sense
anyway. It's how I look. As vain as I sound it's the truth. How is it
my friends can tell me I look beautiful, stunning and so on when my
own family seem hell bent on reminding me I'm fat and dress like a
tart. Being paranoid that people are laughing at you behind your back
look at the fat girl with the messy bush of hair and too much make up
on - that's not pretty.

Still told I'm a failure. Still not taken seriously. Belittled at
every opportunity. I just feel like a joke and I think I'm slowly but
surely becoming one. God some days I feel so so so shit, I stop caring
about anything.

The only thing you can be glad for at times like these are the arms of
someone who loves you. I'm a lucky girl in an unfortunate situation.
Fortuately, nothing is forever.


Saalene

Friday, 19 August 2011

I'll be a princess someday.

It seems to me everyone else has a family to support them no matter
what their dreams and aspirations may be. My family like to throw dirt
in my face and then tell me it my own fault.

To put it simply it's the projection of their own petty insecurities.

But it's just horrible. Right now all I want is to finish my degree,
get into employment and then start working towards my main goal. To
own my own house.

In the last few weeks I've had so much shit from those closest to me.
And I don't wanna even try to justify their actions. 'Cause there is
no justification. My brother telling me I'm a failure cause I dropped
out of my previous course?

Seemingly EVERYONE telling me I won't be able to buy my own place.

And then blaming it on my excessive spending.

I did have a problem. I admit that. But I've learnt from my mistakes.

And there's only one thing that makes me slip up again in that sense
anyway. It's how I look. As vain as I sound it's the truth. How is it
my friends can tell me I look beautiful, stunning and so on when my
own family seem hell bent on reminding me I'm fat and dress like a
tart. Being paranoid that people are laughing at you behind your back
look at the fat girl with the messy bush of hair and too much make up
on - that's not pretty.

Still told I'm a failure. Still not taken seriously. Belittled at
every oppurunity. I just feel like a joke and I think I'm slowly but
surely becoming one. God some days I feel so so so shit, I stop caring
about anything.

When I was little I used to tell the teachers at school that I am
Cinderella. It's sad that 18 years later I still feel this way.

The only thing you can be glad for at times like these are the arms of
someone who loves you. I'm a lucky girl in an unfortunate situation.
Fortuately, nothing is forever.

Tuesday, 26 April 2011

This is for my girlies.

We all have accquaintances. We have people who walk in and out of our lives. But then you get the people who come in and kick and scream. Now you either tell them to shut the fuck up and get the fuck out. Or you laugh at the sheer audacity of this person to do such a thing and welcome them with a tiny weeny bit of reluctance and hesitation and a smirk on your face. This could be the beginning of something beautiful. Or really fucking dirt. With a capital D. BOLD & underlined...
DIRT


Much like that person you'll have the hots for. Like the real OH-MY-GOD-I-JUST-WANNA-TOUCH-YOU. And then you find out they support Man U. I joke. I joke.

Also I digress.

The friends you hold on to. The ones that stay. Have a nice cuppa. And settle down into your mundane life. They're the ones that are the best. And when we argue, for me they're the ones that make me swallow my pride. And you know what they say. To spit is to like, to love is to swallow. *wink wink nudge nudge*

My friends themselves are strong. And to be honest we're a bunch of complete pricks. But we're each others.

And there are hundreds of thousands of women wish they could be. Strong. Anyone can be pathetic and just hang in there, hoping shit will work itself out. It takes guts to stand up and speak out. Even if you feel like a prick. Like I usually do. But as you get older I guess you just don't give a fuck.

You my girls are like a diamonds, every cut will just make them sparkle a little bit more. The most beautiful diamonds take all those cuts, withstand those cuts and bear those cuts.

I love you ladies. That is all. Shaz over and out. x

What a bumder of a week.

Yes. I did just use that word. (This is dated from the 5th of April but clearly I haven't posted for some reason. A likely one being that I suck.)

Last week was simply one of those weeks that make you think WHAT THE FUCK HAVE I DONE TO DESERVE THAT...?

I got asked if I'm pregnant
- and the week before that I had someone suggest to me that I need a gastric band...

I got mugged. My phone got stolen. Like right out of my hand. Just snatched. "Like taking candy from a baby..." not really I chased that little turd. Alas I did not catch him - which is probably fortunate for both of us as I would have torn him up. Seriously. Being the only girl in your family teaches you how to fight. Although I am yet to put my mad skills into use I am sure that they are indeed sufficient to kick ass. Or at least kick shins. REAL HARD.

I had the police giving me all this shit about insurance fraud... Tell me how I'm getting anything out of this claim when I have to pay a £50 excess. I was not impressed. A lot of people have negative things to say about the police. It's sad but true. And sadder still that it's probably a handful - okay a LARGE handful - of complete twats who don't want to do their job and make any process however simple, in this case filling out a form, SO FREAKIN' LONG.


On the upside thanks to someone particularly lovely I have been told that I was probably glowing that day.. Or he in his own words "must've looked very happy indeed, maybe she assumed it was good news...". This is nice.

Still want that little rat bag to suffer for the phone thing. Prick.

GET ME?

Wednesday, 23 February 2011

HARE KRISHNA!

"Excuse me!"
"Me?"
"Yeah sorry you dropped something just over there..."

I turn thinking "Last night I managed to spill half a bottle of squash on my bastard notes, I bet they've decided to jump out of my bag. Now. In the middle of Oxford Street. When it's pissing down with rain. And I've got a deadline looming. Today. FUCK!"

I look. I don't see anything. I look harder. I look back at the man about to make or break my morning.

"It's your smile"

DO YOU WANT ME TO HIT YOU?!

Hare Krishna representative or not. YOU DO NOT LIE.

And it was lying. Cause you can't drop a smile. At least I don't think you can.

So I did smile. Mission accomplished fella. Or is it? you neither broke or made anything. Apart from my near enough immaculate "fashionably late" timing.

It was half 11. I was meant to be there for 9.

He then tried to give me a book - SORRY give me a book in return for a donation. I don't have a problem with that. Charity shops do it. Y'all just took it to the streets.

BUT I DO HAVE A PROBLEM.

First of all... FLATTERY WILL GET YOU NO WHERE IN TERMS OF MONEY OUT OF MY POCKET.

I swear to you
"Beautiful people usually donate more!"

NO! They spend their money on being beautiful.
By that logic I must be absolute crap cause that's what I spend my money on.
I'm also tasty. Food. It's a given.

SECONDLY... I am an English Literature student. I have enough trouble reading the books on my own bloody reading lists. What makes you think I have the time to read ANYTHING but this stuff?!

I know it's been a while in terms of postage and as much as I want to apologize I shan't. Cause I HAVE NO NEED FOR MANNERS.

See what I did there? Swiftly moving from one topic to another. Awh yeah.

Anyways. I had to have an actual conversation with someone on such things. Apparently you can be an adult but act like a 12 year old. You know that awkward "You can't tell me what to do... You're not my mum...." You damn lucky I'm not or you wouldn't be able to sit straight for a week as you'll be needing surgery to remove my shoe from your colon. SI? SI.

I can't believe the audacity of people though. I've been lied to. A few times. More than I care for. But there are some killers though...

"Why did you swear at me?"
"Oh that's just how I am. I swear for no reason."

WHAT?!

"Did you ask him about it?"
"Yeah he said he'd told me about it before and I must've forgotten"

WHAT?!

"I'm sure you can squeeze into a size 12.. try!"

WHAT?!

Yeah so lies aren't fun.

You know what else isn't fun. Dickheads. The kind that are willing to put someone down for personal gain. Not real personal gain. Just a spasticated sense of it just for themselves.

How are you gonna sit there and tell me I'm shit in order to get in MY FRIEND'S good books? Have you been on this planet before?

BLEURGH.

Enough. Time to shower. Long hair takes too long to shampoo, condition, detangle and dry in't morning.

Night!

Wednesday, 19 January 2011

Blue Monday



My blue was more than blue. It was all shades of grey. I had a lecture in which the only thing I remember - despite some pretty impressive note taking that means it included HIGHLIGHTLING - is the way this lecturer said "WOMAAAAAAAAAAN" like
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