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, 28 December 2012

...

Still thinking about chocolates.

Thursday, 27 December 2012

What is it about that time?

Of the month I mean. When I complain about it to other women I get one of two reactions.

"Oh that sucks yeah mine's a pain too."

Or "OH MY GOD MINE ARE THE WORST. THEY'RE THE WORST IN THE WORLD. IT'S LIKE I'M DYING. IN FACT. I DID ACTUALLY DIE ONCE BECAUSE OF IT. AAAAAARGH."

The latter are the ones that make you want to run head first into a wall. Why must pain be a competition. Besides. My physical pain isn't that bad - apart from today, I told someone the other day that I don't really get cramps as such and I sweat to you Mother Nature was listening and is currently exactly her "O RLY" style revenge on my tummy. That whore.

The real pain is how hormonal I am. I have polycystic ovarian syndrome. Which causes a hormonal imbalance. Which causes me to be a emotional train wreck when Mother Bitchface calls.

Any other time of the month if someone were to call me a bitch I'd be like.

"YEAH. WHATEVER." (I'm thinking the kind of whatever you'd find in the song 'My United States of Whatever')

But today. I cried. Not for like 30 seconds of anything I mean for like the best part of a half hour. I mean who fucking cares? Okay the person who called me a bitch is someone I didn't expect to call me a bitch. So maybe that made it worse. Something that would usually anger me just made me cry. It's all I seem to do.

What is wrong with me?

I get ridiculously angry too. I mean. For any spastic reason. I've smashed plates. Punched walls. Screamed at people. I mean literally screeching.

And then when I get angry I cry. So you're mixing those two shitty things up.

But the worst is the self hate. I mean I'm not my biggest fan most of the time. But when I'm on, I literally hate myself. I hate how fat I am. I feel like I look good in nothing. I feel like I can't do anything. I feel like a complete idiot. Like so stupid I can't do my work. I sit there thinking to myself "How are you in your third year of uni when you can't even write a coherent essay? How did I even make it into university?"

Why can't this go away? Why must I endure this humiliating shame once a month? The emotionally unstable bitch. Yeah. Bitch. I said it. I guess that's what I am.

Apparently not just at this time of month. Apparently I'm also mean. Which I am. But I'm also sweet. But sweet never gets anyone anywhere. Because no one appreciates sweet. I do. But so what. I don't get it now. I never have. I never will.


I was promised a box of chocolates tomorrow. I bet you a box of chocolates that I don't get them. Well I will. If I lose. And if I win I won't buy you any. Because they're right. I'm not a nice person. And I don't care. I won't be nice to people and that will be the end of it. I just don't give a fucking shit about being nice. Why should I be? I never get the same treatment back. karma doesn't exist. You're either shat on by the universe or not.

Wednesday, 26 December 2012

Missing you.

I think in reality what upsets me the most is that I'm really upset and no one care.  My grandmother passed away in August and it would have been her birthday on Christmas Eve. We went to the temple which I know she would have liked. 

On Christmas Day, my great aunt called the house and hearing someone speak in Malayalam saying "Hello dear," in Malayalam like my nan would have broke my heart. 

This is when you feel alone. I have no one to talk to apart from a page of words. 

EMO.


I've had a thoroughly shit Christmas. I don't care for any of this shit anymore. I actually want to be alone. I don't want anything or anyone. I don't care. I think the only reason I attach myself to people is to convince myself that I am a social person when I'm really not.

I haven't felt this low for a long time. Just a little effort is anyone can ask for and I don't even get that and if you can't get it on it's own, there's no point in trying to force it out of people.

I hate that my family are insisting on spending time together as a family when I can't wait to get out of here. And that's not just to go running into someone else's nest. I don't want to risk it. I want to just be alone. I've been told I must be and will be a nightmare to live with and I'm beginning to see exactly why. I have no tolerance for people. I have no tolerance for people's comfort in repetition. I have no tolerance for people's feelings. I have no tolerance.

I just hate all this shit. I can't believe some of the things I've heard from people this Christmas. Presents are not meant to be a sign of how much money you've spent on a person. That value is attached to whatever has been bought, there's a different kind of value attached with something made or handed down - I think they call that sentimental value or something. But the true value of a present is how much you know a person. The thought, planning and (hopefully) execution of buying something seemingly perfect for that person.

But what do I hear?

"Oh, but they got a mug with socks..."  - don't judge me, I'm a bloody student, we're far from loaded.

"I don't know if I'll use it" - I haven't even got a comment for this one. It's more complicated - a case of where I've tried with my teeny tiny mind to comprehend what this person may find useful and low and behold I can't figure it out because clearly there is nothing in my skull apart from a horrible mush of crap that is of no use to anyone - SOMEONE PLEASE PUT ME DOWN.

"Oh you know this'll be less than half price tomorrow?" - FUCK ALL OF THIS SHIT. I'M NEVER CELEBRATING THIS STUPID THING EVER AGAIN. I DON'T WANT TO CELEBRATE A THING. CHRISTMAS, BIRTHDAYS, DIWALI, HANUKKAH. NONE OF IT. I GIVE IT ALL UP.

 I don't care. I just don't give a shit anymore.

By the way I have deadlines on the 7th, 9th and 14th of Jan. 11,000 words in total. I hope I die before that. So I won't have to deal with ANY of this shit anymore.


BY THE WAY. If you're reading this and thinking "What a stupid bitch!" then I should warn you I am indeed on my period. And it's just my luck that I have polycystic ovarian syndrome which makes everything SO MUCH FUCKING WORSE.

Monday, 24 December 2012

Bah. Fuck it.

The reason I hate Christmas so much is that I'm forced to spend an inordinate amount of time with my family. None of us particularly like each other or get on. There aren't even cliques. Just constant opposition. But what I hate the most is the little niggly comments that make me want to hang myself. Seriously. I am sick to death of this shit.

"You've lost weight. You just need lose some more."
"You'd lost weight but now you've put it back on."
"You're fat."

Also copious amounts of advice is given to you. On what you should do next. How you should go about it. Why don't you do this or this or this?

Why don't YOU...

I never get any support from these people. I mean yeah they want me to do well which is nice and I get that but yesterday I got home and was telling them about this woman who literally yelled in my face at work. No one gives a shit. Well this is an improvement on the usual response which is to have my mum and my aunts turn it round so it's my fault.

"This guy tried to run me over."
"Well were you crossing the road properly?"
"I was at a Zebra crossing."

That is the most recent example of a string of these happening. But it is this that pisses me off to whole new levels of rage.

Well that and this idea that everyone in the world is smarter, better looking and more successful than me. And they have nicer teeth than I do.

And I think this is one of the reasons that I'm mean. Well I've been told I'm mean. I have no tolerance of people. Yet I am just as intolerable. To be completely inert is the only was to my personal nirvana. I don't want to effect anyone and I really don't want to be effected by people.

I don't think that even comes in the form of death. It's not that I want to die, sometimes I wish I was wiped of the face of the planet. No trace of existence.

I used to think that with all relationships distance makes the heart grow fonder.

But I don't think that is the case. We simply have a rose tinted photograph of whoever we miss. All the wonderful things that make us miss them. But this really isn't a true representation of them.

We are born alone and die alone. I should just get used to my own company and learn to handle these doses of reality better. Cause people don't change.

Monday, 17 December 2012

Honey & Co. And my first food post. Yum.


Now I warn you all this is my first ever restaurant review. So bear with me and ask me any questions if I've missed out any vital points. Also all the photography is done by me. So if you like it say so. If not, LEAVE IT.... yeah?

Anyway in the immortal words of Kel, (who is alive and well I hear after that awful rumour) "Awwwwh, here it goes"



Honey & Co is tucked away behind Warren St tube. This middle eastern delight is a cosy, warm and friendly place to hang out share some mezze - or not, some bitches don't like to share. But I do. And that's what we did. We got the mixed mezze, around a fiver. And how lovely it was, there were bits served up neither of us had tried before including what tasted like an exotic cheese straw and our favourite was this nommable cheese dip with garlic and coriander which you could probably eat a kilo of and then want to be disappointed in yourself for doing so, but really not care because it was THAT GOOD.

Almost everything on the menu has a twist, familiar favourites become unfamiliar but not in the scary way some of these new and interesting places take their food, but in a opening of your mind and tastebuds to the wonders of moving outside of the comfortable expectations you have with middle eastern cuisine. The lamb shawarma is a shining example of this. 

The meat was obvious slow cooked and as a result was succulent, juicy and falling apart. It's 

juices formed a sort of gravy, soaked up by the (HOME MADE MAY WE ADD - well the waitress did) flatbread.


Finally the deconstructed cheesecake. Deconstructed is such a difficult and tedious word and usually followed by the expectation of having some would be arty farty Masterchef wannabe - we'd like to point out at this point, something resembling an egg and a few sprinkles of freeze dried bacon does NOT constitute a fry up! However this was just as delicious had lost none of it's sex appeal in it's journey into abstraction. 



After the place had emptied out somewhat after the busy busy lunchtime rush - it's clear word has spread about this place - we got chatting away with the waitresses who are not only lovely to talk to about anything including their own foodie ways - on in particular who had family links to the wine trade and was on her way to setting up her own street food outlet. Overall a lovely atmosphere - truly that because for me that's the thing I love about eating out, the experience of it all, in all honesty I think my partner in crime is the real food and I'm just a picky little sod.  

Monday, 10 December 2012

Barry M. Ultra Moisturising Lip Paint in Black Cherry

Black Cherry - also known as the blunt '160' - sounds ominous, but believe me when I say it's bark is worse than it's bite.

You look at the bullet and think "Oh gosh, it'll be the emo schoolgirl version of me, but this time oh so much more awkward."

But it's not. This really lovely moisturising lip tint - tint more than paint in my option anyway - does what it says on the tube. Lots of lovely colour and moisture. Perfect for winter.

Just a slick for a lovely tinge of red. More leads to making-a-statement maroon.

Just one qualm I had with this. I get really dry lips. Because of this I need to make sure I don't have any dry bits on my lips, usually with the aid of an old toothbrush. I mention this because experience has taught me these bolder colours DEMAND a blank canvas. Otherwise they bitch up in a way that can only be described as a shattered kisser. NOT COOL.

ANYWAY. Pictures.

Tuesday, 13 November 2012

Fall Out Girl.

I hate being in uni at the moment. I hate being around actual cretins. There's seems to be no sense of right and wrong in this place. And lies circulate more than fresher's flu germs. 

I have been shunned by the people that I maybe wasn't really really close to but still. 

When you stop talking to someone you think at least your friends will be there for you but this isn't true. It's pretty much like a messy divorce. You think seeing your kids once a week will make up for not being with them all the time but they just grow weary of you. I have become the equivalent of  Kirk Van Houten. No one cares about him. He only ever gets pity invitations and even then if his ex wife is there then he's the pathetic loser who offers to leave instead of her. 

He's right to do so even if I call him a pathetic loser. He still is one. But he's smarter than me which makes me a stupid pathetic loser. He leaves and doesn't have to be in that uncomfortable bubble of being in the same space as Luann. By the by, I am fully aware that I watch too much TV, so yeah.

But anyway. God was truly shitting on me yesterday when all these nightmares seem to collide in the same bastard place. And they are forming alliances, as much as this sounds crazy I do believe it to be true. If there's any light this diwali please do let it shine on the bitches who lie to each other, pretend to be each other's friends and suck innocent bystanders into their swirling vortex of dumb fuckery. 


CUNTS.

Tuesday, 30 October 2012

So...

I went to see the new James Bond film the other day and all I could think of before actually seeing the film - apart from how much the bloody popcorn was gonna cost me - was WHAT'S THE BIG DEAL WITH THIS BOND GIRL BEING A FIGURE FOR WOMEN TO LOOK UP TO? She must do something pretty awesome in the film. Or be a figure for women to look up to... right?


BUT NO. As mean as this sounds she wasn't the leading lady of the film in the slightest. Judi Dench was. And I loved the film. But more so because of her. She is the kind of woman we should all aspire to be like - well even if we are talking about her character M.

The line that really made it clear - "I'll leave when the job is done."

She's not the sexy bond gyal who gets it on with that blue eyed hunk - yeah he's aite, I know a lot of you guys think he's hot stuff but he's warm in my eyes. She's not the one wearing the stunning dress with the thigh high split. She's the one who's worked hard, gone with her instincts and always focuses on her goal.

I'd rather be like her that the girl who doesn't need wing mirrors to drive. You'll get that once you've seen the film. GO WATCH IT.

Thursday, 19 July 2012

The unsociable network.



You're born.

You have, well, a lot of fun. Your best friends are boobs and you get to do it where ever you want. Poo that is.

You go to primary school. Then secondary. Some go on to college or sixth form and some go on to university or jobs. Or JSA. Whatever.

You meet a lot if people in this time. Some more than others.

Now you all know what it's like when you bump into such a person from the past. And the checklist you go through in your head wether or not you will approach them.

- "...isn't that?"
- taking note of appearance - for me that's usually, 'Oh my, I didn't know there were such new levels of hood rat lows' which usually consist of ridiculous hair, terrible tattoos that look like the tattooist was using a permanent marker and has had a stroke halfway through, piercings with earrings in -saw this ONCE but still makes me shudder, and my favourite accessory of all - kids. I say that but I love babies. I think they can defeat evil. Or rival Darth Vader Haha.

Then you wonder. Shall I just wave? Do they even remember who I am? I mean you don't wanna wave at someone and not have them wave back. I ALWAYS laugh at myself when this happens. Because I do this. Not a lot but enough to have come up with a contingency plan for such an occasion. HUMOUR. I look around and find someone to laugh with me. Believe it or not it makes me feel better.

If they wanna say hi they will and if not you don't need to worry about the awkward questions.

"What are you up to now?"
"Oh. Uni. Working. And errr."

What?! Am I meant to list my hobbies and interests?

Then if you're fortunate something comes up. Your stop. Your shopping - cause now should you linger any longer that can of tinned peaches in DEFIANTLY going to expire, it can only be saved by the beep at the checkout - or my favourite you say you gotta go and then end up walking the same bloody route as this person. Forcing you to carry on reciting this CV of life to this person, or make an attempt to shift the focus on someone else from that period of your life, "Oh I hear Joe is out of prison now. Yeah, saw him in Lidl the other day." "Lidl?" FUCK OFF. Like you've never been in there.

Now when on a social network you'll do all of this behind a screen. Not so awkward. Right? Wrong.

Because. Once you've added this person there's no "Oh this is my stop!" i.e. If god loves me he will ensure I don't bump into YOU again for at least 10 years.

There's just a constant hover if people who you by the laws of nature you shouldn't have to hear from. You know the kinda crap that makes you wanna hate people. Like
"I'm done with men. Don't wanna break my heart again"
Then followed maybe a half hour later by "OMG HE MAY BE THE ONE"

Or "Job hunting. Applied for one job this week. Woo go me."

Or "SNAKES AND FAKES. EVERYWHERE"

"Oh I hate having to baby sit. It's all I do. Meh."

First of all. DON'T SAY, TYPE or even THINK "meh". This isn't me trying to be a motivational speaker, I'm just telling you it's a wanker of a thing to do. Like saying LOL out loud.

I mean you start to despise people because of this. But the problem is falling out with people is harder on social networks. Especially people you have to see on a regular basis. Maybe at work or uni or school.

But I guess more painful is the former friend you wanted or even needed to phase out. In my case I've had a couple of these circumstances.

Situation A. For some spastic reason your friend has suddenly become very stupid. Ridiculously stupid. For example. A friend of mine who has just finished uni and tells me all the time that they have nothing to do and would love to see you. I work. So I say well I can't do this day or that day and all of a sudden this person's diary is chock-a-block with social traffic. (By the by this is just something that made me laugh, my mum was telling my nan about some important thing that coming up and my nan replied "Uh-huh, I'll put that in my diary." My nan has such a bustling social life that she has to pencil us in. Haha.)

And it won't just be that week. It's just all this bullshit about having to see "the girls" or still being in bed at 1 in the afternoon after a long day of doing fuck all. And not just that! Straight up ignoring me when I've posted something in reply to a status, I mean replying to every other fucker on there BUT ME. Fine. As arrogant as it'll sound, it's their loss. I'm a lovely friend. Bar the potty mouth. Haha.

Situation B. What I like to call the divorcee. You split with a friend. Fine. In most circumstances you'll have to fight for custody of the kids i.e. your other friends within the same unit. Well what I thought may be an amicable family situation isn't as such. I guess it's the same as your kids thinking you're a bit naff. And "Dad let's is have ice cream for breakfast". You can't change their minds. You feel kinda crap about yourself. I'm not angry with the kids. I'm more angry with myself for getting upset. If you're not cool in their eyes now, you never will be. That's just something I have to accept.

I always say I'll get rid of my Facebook and Twitter. But I won't. Well not for now. One day. I am glad I don't use it as much as I used to. And I should delete a lot of the aforementioned people. I've made a start.

But yeah. Let's all go back to using landlines and postcards.

Friday, 29 June 2012

I don't understand people.

Shit I've not understood this week.

My boyfriend is lovely but sometimes. I think. You know. He's just not that... Trendy..."

You best be hesitating bitch. How old are you? Who even says shit like that. She's sitting there complaining about how he's embarrassed to hang out in all these awful sounding places she proceeded to list that her friends "ALWAYS hang out at". You poor sap! I think she may have genuinely been a victim of peer pressure. Or her mother drank heavily throughout the pregnancy. Which has been claimed not to be as awful for babies as first thought. But if you'd seen this bitch blather on, you'd've thought otherwise.

Seemingly never ending Facebook wars.

For me personally I have no wars on the book of faces. I have had minor altercations on there or as a result of something on there. For example. Someone I used to be friends with refused to accept me as a friend, fortunately for her I'm not the kinda crazed bitch who'd pressure her into doing so. However there are other mutual friends we have who she has reporting back to her. Random shit. Like if I post something angry. It's some minor incident. It's not gonna be the death of me. Why so interested? You didn't wanna add me as a friend yet you know all about what's going on in my life.

I DON'T UNDERSTAND IT.

BUT WOAH THERE WAIT ONE HOT MINUTE. There's worse.

This girl. I knew from a long time. She added me. She then added a friend of mine. Only to harass him. About the most raaaaaaandom shit. Apparently he slept with her flat mate. Who cares?! Who even thinks about that stuff now? But most of all why go to the trouble of confronting someone who hasn't actually done anything wrong to you. Someone who you barely know and barely knows you.

Well after that there was a spat. Ending in the termination of said cyberfriendship.

DAH-LETE

Fine. Seriously not a problem. If you're not meant to be friends, you're not. That's just how it is.

Why does she then message me, add me as a friend and poke me?

All in the space of half an hour?

I don't understaaaaaaaaaand.

Thursday, 14 June 2012

R.I.P. to the girl you used to see her days are over.


Fuuuuuuuuuuck. I don't wanna hate on Rita Ora but I HAVE to hate on this song for one reason and one reason only. I've seen it quoted and posted and all of this is being done with the intention of girls screaming out to the social networking universe that she is gonna change her ways. No. NO. Stop it. You won't.

It's not just this song. It's all this crap about

- "living life."
- "living for yourself."
- "ignoring hypocrites." (OH GUUUUUURL THAT WORD IS ABOUT 6 LETTERS TOO LONG FOR YOUR USUAL VOCAB.)
- "being happy"
- "being happy alone"

WHATEVER.


BLAH. It does my head in. It's not the blatant disregard for self respect and them constantly ending up in these situations. It's the joke of an attempt at changing your life by putting up a status.

I'm gonna say now. I am pretty sure I have never done this but as a discloser if I ever have I'm gonna say now I was probably on my period. You guys don't understand. I have poly cystic ovarian syndrome - which I like to believe sounds a lot more impressive and serious than it is. Sort of. It varies right. From the hormones fighting it out in your body and the effects that can have on all sorts of shit, to having to have an ovary removed cause one of the teeny tiny cysts getting brave and growing like the confidence of the aforementioned spastics when one of their horrendous statuses is liked by someone on the book of faces. That ovary removal thing didn't happen to me by the way.

Oh and also. A word of caution. Some of these PCOS bitches as I like to call them have a tendency to use this condition as an excuse for being shit at life. And I swear to goodness that this was actually something said by such a woman "It takes me longer to get ready cause of my poly cystic ovaries" - true story bro.

What a twat.


But back to the point. If you're feeling horrible about yourself don't listen to bad pop music. Bad pop music is only ever enjoyable when your happiness levels are above baseline.

I say above baseline. Some people are so ridiculously miserable that their baselines are way too low to ever appreciate bad pop. Or even good pop.

Having said all of this when these crazy bitches put these things up, other crazy guys and gals show them support. Are they all as bad as each other. Do they really believe reciting these lyrics and regurgitated proclamations will change them as a person.

It won't.

Real goals and real aspiration are achieved through real work.

Not this bullshit, wallowing in false lyrical confidence.

Thursday, 31 May 2012

No good deed goes unpunished.

Way ridiculous. This thing. It's happened before. What is it? Falling out with friends. Well sometimes it's "falling out" when there's animosity. Other than that it's "drifting apart". Nonetheless it keeps happening.

In secondary school. It was my best friend. She got with a guy. Who I liked. But anyway. She started going out with him. There were misunderstandings and lies and her believing him over me. Whatever. It's done now. But there was a guy.

At sixth form. Well there were a lot of people who didn't keep in touch. Some because it is quite simply a case of people being people. Not everyone gets on. Then there are some people who just get on your tits so much that it's a joke that you have to even spend time with them at all. I mean there is one person who I sometimes bump into and all I get to hear is "Oh I'm so fabulous, my life is amazing, I go out with all my friends all the time and wok at this place yeah but anyway I met this guy and got so drunk and I think he likes me but I don't remember his name... but anyway. I'm not pregnant so THAT'S something."

Also that roughly translates to "We're all going through the same crappy motions in life I just want mine to sound better so you hate yourself a little"

And I do. Because then I start thinking about all the good things I have going for me. I shouldn't but hey when someone's trying to make me look like a schmuck you gotta big yourself up.

Anyways. In the last few years I've ended up really hating people. I wanna think its not my fault but it is. The reason it is is that I don't avoid becoming a victim. All this time I've said to myself, "It's not fair" and then cried, hated myself for bit and then bounced back. Cause I'm bouncy like that. And although I am bouncy I still have feelings. But I want to know why I haven't learned to stay away from these leeches, the bottom feeders of society. With their disgustingly lame ways of conducting themselves, their sheer desperation for attention. In any form. Which is quite possibly the worst of all because you get to see them put themselves up for social flaggelation all for just a little more drama or attention from the guy or girl who clearly couldn't give a flying FUCK about them.
I need to stay away from people. I hate uni for that. Because in reality I love being around people and meeting new people. But I hate all the politics that ensue.

I can't wait for all this shite to be over

What's in a gift?

I've gotta admit. I used to think I was once the queen of presenting buying. I'm losing my touch now. But I guess that was inevitable what with growing up, working, essaying and all the other crap that steals time from my all time favourite thing to do... SHOPPING. If you are interested the things that come in second and third respectively are eating and acting like a bigger dickhead than Kanye West. I've been fortunate enough to get some really lovely gifts in the past. Including - a guitar - from a friend who turned up to a dance show and had this MASSIVE box with him. That shit craaaaaaay. But good cray. Obv. - a tv - from my friends at sixth form. I remember how one of my friends had actually walked in late cause of work and announced this was my surprise, and then demanded I act surprised - a surprise party, the first one I've ever had thrown for me. - my first iPod from my uncle - my beats from my boo - which wasn't even the best one cause my favourite gift from him is in fact a coffee that he got for me - a cook book - cause my friend works at a bookshop and knows I like to make a mess in the kitchen. These are a few and they are all lovely gifts, not this crap I've been hearing recently about "OMG HE GOT ME THE *insert a brand that seems to be in the trend at the moment* BLAH BLAH BLAH" I was gonna name a designer. But I don't plug unless I have. And have, I do not. The simple fact is that these aren't gift. It's a half arsed attempt at keeping you happy rather than making you happy. And trust me there is a big difference. But like I was saying I've seemed to have lost my touch. In the past few years there were only a few hit gifts I've got for people. Apart from that it's been... "Why didn't you get me next seasons?" or "This isn't the actual one I wanted" or "Oh... Yeah I'll wear it all the time promise"
Yeah fucking right. Argh I just want to punch people when they get like this. You people think I ACTUALLY want to spend my money on shit you don't like? Why can't you just be polite and appreciate the fucking effort that I've gone too? FUCK. Well for this reason I want to give up all reasons to give and / or recieve presents. You don't understand how it makes my blood boil. All the anger has come flooding back. And I want to go back and throw things at these people.

Saturday, 19 May 2012

Red glitter nails. My personal fave.

So. Basically. A blood red base. Then glitter coat. Then LOTS of clear. The clear makes or breaks this.

Well I think so. But then again I feel clear nail varnish can make or break ANY nail design.

Tuesday, 8 May 2012

The passive aggressive tweet.

I've fallen into this trap. And I've changed my ways now. Mostly because when I spoke to a friend about this.



"I always take that stuff personally. Even if it probably nothing to do with me."





I found the biggest problem. And this problem is the kind of thing anyone could overlook. Which is why I believe it to be the biggest problem. It's deceptively troublesome.

When one types such a status, tweet or broadcast message (yeah I know about these, I was on BBM for a short while - never again though!) we always seem to focus only on
- the person at which this is aimed
- maybe including another friend or mutual enemy via the "inside joke"
- making it witty

For me you get more points for
- making your own rhyme
- using song lyrics
- metaphor
- (and by far my favourite) analogies.

But here lies the problem. You are so engrossed in this task that you forget these points.

A. There are a lot of OTHERS who are part of your social network.

B. These OTHERS are still people.

C. These people are by default CRAP. And more than likely to have done something similar to whatever you are complaining about OR they are guilty of the thing that you are complaining about. If it's a generic complaint - like I found in my case - it can be a problem more widespread than you think.

"Sisters before misters..."

My phrase of choice. A bad one? No. I don't think so.

I thought wrong.

This was applicable to a wide array of people at the time I posted this. However. I didn't realise this. It was a comment on a friend's dilemma, such a situation with someone who wasn't anyone of particular importance to me.

However. Someone whom I'd previously fallen out with - well not so much fell out as drifted apart - saw this and some others and thought that they were about her.

They weren't but I can see why she'd think that. But you know what I can't do anything about it now.

Apart from this. NO MORE PASSIVE AGGRESSIVE. I need to stop with this stupidness and I advise all others to do the same.

Thursday, 19 April 2012

So...

I've got a theory about racist / ignorant / spazzy chicks in America doing vlogs, twitter pages, blogs etc about crap. Your idiocy is directly proportional to how fucked up your eyebrows are. BITCH.
So today is my first day on Smoke radio. I am very nervous and very excited. So excited that I've turned up an hour early. Doooooooi. What a pleb! Anyway. I'm really worried that I'll say a naughty word on the air so I've been training myself to not swear in the hours before. I remember once when I was presenting a show for this Malayalee event, yes for those of you who didn't know I am from Kerela - also known as God's own country, and I was told that if I were to swear on stage I would pay for it in blood. So I'm there. Bright lights. In front of hundreds of people. Well maybe not hundreds but still a LOT of people and what do I do? I make a mistake. And I'm thinking "OH CRAAAAAAAAAAP" but I can't say it. I'll get shot. So what comes out of my mouth... "OOPSIE" THIS PHRASE THEN HAUNTED ME FOR MONTHS. Seriously. Well at least I didn't swear.

Tuesday, 17 April 2012

Avoiding CRAAAAAAAAAAZY bitches. Lesson 1.

If she has a catchphrase don't trust her. Unless it's genuine or genuinely funny. Examples are as follow. 






"Don't judge me"
Bitch please you're the one who's more likely to go around judging people.


"Oh you're wearing so much make up, I don't wear make up I don't need any. I'm au naturel."


So much so that you don't shave your legs or straighten / curl / colour / intricately weave, put up or do anything with your hair, shape them caterpillars above your eyes and so on. Oh wait you do? THEN WHY HATE ON SOMEONE ELSE WHO WANTS TO TAKE CARE OF THEIR APPEARANCE? I mean it's not like I don't disagree with some aspects of personal hygiene or presentation as you may well know but you won't catch me putting someone down to make myself feel better.
(The above statement goes with the exception of the following: someone I have witnessed doing the above, someone I've had a previous grievance with, someone who has "brought it" so to say regarding my own looks)






"I only have GUY mates"
Emphasis on the "GUY" part by the way cause they REALLY wanna drive that point home. These are the spastic girls who are so adamant that they are one of the "guys" that they simply cannot fathom the idea of having friends who have ovaries. Truth is they aren't one of the guys at all. Trust me I know. I have two brothers. Three male cousins. And a few close male friends. Boys are a different species as much as I think I understand male human beings I don't because it's impossible to. And there is no way on Earth these crazy hoes can spend ALL their time with guys. I've done it before. They do your head in after a while. And are for the most part so vulgar that it rubs off on you and you end up talking the same shit they would.


Besides those who claim to are usually covering for the following


a) they are such bitches women no longer want to associate with them


b) they like to think all of their guy mates are "in love" with them, and to further this they'll be a doormat
/ shamelessly shameful flirt / whooooooooooore.






"I'm doing me"
Masturbating were you?
This and any other Drake lyrics for that matter especially that YOLO bullshite.



"People just don't get me"
Too fucking right. You are most likely the most erractic kind of spastic they find on the planet.

"I'm in love ... I kissed his best friend ... I don't want a boyfriend ...


That guys looking at me ... I'll be back in 5 mins I'm just gonna throw myself at him and see what happens ...


LOOK AT ME I'M SUCH A PIMP ... 


Why does everyone think I'm a whore ... I think I have an STD ... I think I'm pregnant ... I'm gonna cry for about a week now. 


... Do you think that guy over there's single? He's totally into me. He LOOKED at me ... 


He said "Sorry" when I knocked over all his stuff ... 


He wants me to be his wifey. Right? Totally ... 


I wanna marry him. 


WHY WON'T HE TALK TO ME?! 


I'VE BEEN FOLLOWING HIS TWEETS, COMMENTING ON ALL HIS PICTURES ON FACEBOOK, WAITING FOR HIM WHEN HE FINISHES WORK / UNI / GYM / PEEING. WHY DOESN'T HE LOVE ME?"


HOW THE FUCK IS ANYONE SUPPOSED TO "UNDERSTAND" YOU YOU CRAZY BITCH.






" I'm happy single"


Say it once if you please say it at least once a week and we'll have problems. You going on and on about how happy you are being SINGLE, ALONE, DOING MY OWN THING and so on makes me think you're about to snap and sink to new levels of desperation that have yet to be witnessed by mankind.




I've gotta stop now. I feel bad for doing this instead of essaying. Hahaha.

I don't care what you say...

Just cause you've got a boyfriend doesn't mean you can neglect your friends. I get that we won't see wach other AS MUCH but seriously he's your boyfriend not your conjoined twin. I flipping hate this about girls. What the hell is wrong with you women? Are you so insecure that you have to spend EVERY WAKING MOMENT WITH HIM? When your friends need you you're not there and I don't care how horrible this makes me I HOPE karma gets you.  


FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK.


Seriously though all my life these bitches have been fucking me over. I'm sick of it. If you're needy I don't need you. Fucking bitches. ARGH. This shit drives me maaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaad. And you're all shit actresses too. Arguing with him on the phone with a big smile on your face? Drama queen. Bitching about him and his friends and then being overly nice to them in person? Fake bitch. And most of all dumping your would-be problems, made up shit and awful lies on those around you? STUPID HOE. Follow the fake love hearts to your deciever. They all seem to congrgate and decieve each other. 

"He looked at me. He obviously likes me. He's totally in love with me" "Why is he talking to HER? It's like he's cheating on me. I hate that girl now, I don't know her but I'm gonna tell everyone she's a whore" "Why do all the guys think she's pretty? I'm gonna tell everyone she's ugly"


THESE CRAZY BITCHES NEED TO BE LOCKED UP. I wanna know what is causing this pandemic of idiocy. Maybe it's something in the water. Or watching too much 90210. Yeah that's the other thing. Comparing your problem to those of a bunch of kids on tv WHO AREN'T REAL doesn't help your case in any way. ARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGH.

Thursday, 12 April 2012

CROC EFFECT.

Snap it up. Seriously. Love it.
Barry M's Gold and Croc Effect in Black.

Beaaaaautiful.

Tuesday, 3 April 2012

WAAAAANT!

Wednesday, 28 March 2012

"LOOK AT ME. LOOK AT ME!"

It's seems to be that many women are disillusioned about their bodies. Most of the time its sad. You know when someone who's not actually got the biggest nose you've ever seen.

BUT SOMETIMES IT'S HILARIOUS.

No. You do not have an amazing bum. It's nice but it's not the best thing since sliced bread (Atkins dieters bring your own colloquialism)

Same goes for boobs, eyes, legs and well pretty much any other body part.

You telling the entire world that whichever of the above statements you picked from the above - and I mean I this is the nicest way but GOD HELP YOU if you picked more than one - will not
a) make it true
b) make anyone take notice.

The latter point being the one that gets to me the most. When these girls - and you know what guys do it too - go on and on about this one thing that apparently is the only attribute the posses (anyone else imagining a floating pair of boobs with eyes and the cleavage as a nose?) and people start to ignore them, more often than not the seem to be compelled to push their campaign even harder. What some call A VICIOUS CYCLE.

Be beautiful.

I miss make up. I've stopped wearing anything - apart from lipstick- for the last two weeks and it's still driving me nuts. Why?

On the one hand I feel happy that I'm not in constant fear of looking like a transvestite or typical East London scum. I like not having to worry about cleaning it all off before I fall asleep - HAHA YEAH CAUSE I USED TO DO THAT... I like not getting judged on the train because of course that was indeed my prime location for application.

But despite being told I don't need the make up, I don't need the "gunk" and that I'm "beautiful" I don't feel it. I don't feel pretty without it. I feel insecure about my skin.

Is this because I've been more and more dependant on make up, predominantly foundation, for the past few years?

It's pay day and all I'm thinking is I want to shop for make up. Should I? Shouldn't I. This is driving me mad. And the worst thing is it's such a lame thing to get wound up over!

Okay now I think I'm some kinda spazz cause I can't even differentiate the pics of myself wearing make up and not wearing make up. Decide for yourselves. My conclusion. I'm a paranoid poo poo head.

Monday, 26 March 2012

Why are we all such WUSSES?!

I have just seen someone I went to uni with in Portsmouth. She told me how she's still traumatised by the events of one night out which was not particularly pleasant. But I don't understand. She wasn't the one who was getting verbally abused. She wasn't the one who had to deal with all the childish shit like prank calls - which said lady let slip she was fully aware of whilst ranting away. But I simply cannot fathom why this same person is claiming to be traumatised by these events. I was more effected yet she's the one who seems to be wallowing in it. I just wish people would let things go. Move on get on with it. Seeing people like that just drives me crazy. Don't get me wrong. Have a little bitch - 5, 10 minutes. Maybe half an hour depending on the number of participants and whether or not food and drink are involved. But that's it. It's out of your system and gone.

People shouldn't hold on to shit. Unless they're a toilet.

Monday, 12 March 2012

BELLY'S GONE AND GOT ME.



What on earth is this? This girl isn't thick as in curvy but THICK as in STUPID. Where do they find these people? Why do people keep breeding to make these people? This girl is the epitome of TURD. And seriously she is so so SO stupid. "I have like arms and legs and yeaaaaah...." And my god you must have all the guys just falling at your feet right? So much so that you can make a bitchy video all about something she saw on Facebook. To be fair though you could say I'm doing the same about a Youtube video. But I'm not being a vicious little insecurity-projecting attention whore. Big girls get so much stick. I am speaking from experience. I mean I 've always been a bigger girl. I wasn't always as big as I am now. But still always lead to believe I am a fatty. Sometimes I truly believe I am. This is me at the age of 17ish and as it has gone on...
Back then I was a size 12, but even then I was getting stick, from aunties mainly but I have grown to understand that nothing on God's earth will ever appese these women.
This is me now. This pic made me cringe so much it's the kick start I needed to lose weight. It may not look awful but a tiny part of me wants to die when I look at it. Let's hope it's the fat bitch in me. Let's hope she dies.
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