Feeling particularly impressed with myself after catching a cashew nut between my legs. THIGHS SHOULD TOUCH.
It's just practical.
Having said that I feel I am getting crazy fat now. Like before when I was a size 12 all I would get is “Saalene… Why you so fat huh? You’ll never get a decent husband if you are fat.” Because in brown people circles the intellect, earnings per annum after tax and likelihood of decent hair in a future spouse is dependant on the size of your waist. But now at a not so atrocious size 18 – 16 – 18 – 20 I feel that I need to at least lose a little bit of belly. For my own sake. The boobs can stay and well the bum is not all that impressive so we’ll just ignore it but the belly. Oh the belly. It needs to go and I need to push it.
**********
"I can jump start a car. I am very proud of this fact and will tell anyone who will give me an opportunity to"
I mean it. I'm just taking this as another oppurunity to announce it to the world. And where better than the world wide web.
By the by I can jump start a car. But I cannot drive one. This is anopther point I feel I should make very clear...
**********
"So are you a leg, bum or boob guy?"
"Actually don't answer that. Do I LOOK like a bucket of KFC?"
I don't get it. I've had many an arguement with guys about this oh prestigious of questions. I mean there was one occasion where I aaked one of the guys from uni whether he preferred larger breasts on his women, a shapely behind or whether he prefers ladies with lovely legs. He couldn't answer. He was adamant he wanted both. He's also adamant that the only girl is some actress or musician who I regret to say I can't remember. Well I wasnt really listening at this point. I mean you try listening to someone who doesn't understand the meaning of the word PREFER
I will never understand people like that. Why do they go out of their way to avoid answering such a flippant question. You could say it's the objectification of women but ladies don't act like you don't do the same with men. It's a two way street.
By the way my answer is bum. I aspire to have a big ol' booty someday. Maybe when I can afford to get that lipo I want so much and then pay them to REINSERT that fat back in my bum bum. I'M ALL ABOUT RECYCLING>
**********
I can't believe this is true. According to my little brother someone wrote this in their R.E exam...
"What is celibacy?"
"A pokemon."
That's just funny. Kids are just getting thicker and thicker. It's a sad truth.
**********
About Me
- Saalene
- 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
Sunday, 19 February 2012
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.
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....
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.
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!
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.
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.
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.
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.
¬_¬
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.
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.
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
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?
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!
"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
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
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.
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.
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...
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.
Thursday, 23 September 2010
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.
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.
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.
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.
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....
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.
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.
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
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.
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.
Wednesday, 24 June 2009
Living on a prayer...
I confused with the world. I'm not gonna lie. I dunno about how I feel about God or religion. I'm not particularly religious. But I'm not gonna rule belief out completely.
I recently prayed that God would give me the support to get through some of the shit I'm getting through. I know I'll find a solution myself and I think it'd be cheeky to just ask for a solution. I KNOW I'll work it out. I just don't wanna lose my mind in the process. Thing is usually I'll pray for the usual that I was taught to pray for (bless my Nan)
- good health
- good education
- and a general blessing.
But this time I think it worked. But I don't think it's worked. I've had to deal with a lot in the past year. I think I was depressed at one point. I'd not wanna leave my room. I'd hate looking at myself in the mirror. I'd make up excuses not to do things with "friends". Now I really hate people who make up their own mental illnesses and I can't say I was ACTUALLY depressed. But I must admit I think I was a teeny bit. I'd sit around and smoke whole packets of cigarettes. They'd make me feel even worse and I wouldn't enjoy them but I did it anyway. I got stuck in a rut. That my friends, is my biggest fear. Once you're in a rut it seems impossible to get out. How you got into it and why you can't get out are questions you can answer til you realise you actually can't because there's no logic to your actions anymore.
I can't be in this rut right now. That's why I'm writing this. So I can bring some logic back into the equation. I think when emotions are running high you don't think straight at all. I've had these sudden attacks of rage. And they've only been for people I really care for or REALLY REALLY despise.
I'm taking the advice I've been give about both these sets of people. I'm gonna have to let things go. It's funny. I'm letting things go with the people I hate because being angry with them is not good for me. But I'm letting go of things with the people I love because it's not good for them.
I probably take a lot out on my family and friends. There have been times where I've been really vicious towards them, which I am embarrassed about. Also there are times where I've been really amazing to the people who least deserved it in their lives. I know they didn't deserve it now because if they had an ounce of real decency things wouldn't have turned out the way they have. I can just let them go on about their lives hoping that someone one day will come and pop their bubbles.
But yeah back to my prayers and what not. The last few days have been full of people telling me how amazing I am. If you know me personally you'll know of my arrogance. When I flounce about proclaiming to the world that I'm the best thing since sliced bread.
Or chaat masala
Or N-dubz
Or Marilyn Manson.
I know you're loving that ladies.
I'VE GONE OFF TRACK.
Long story short = it's ironic that my friends have been telling me how amazing I am out of the blue and my mum's ripping the piss
This is sorta more for me to remember stuff years from now and as "pick me up" so I'm going to copy and paste all the nice shit here.
You ready?
GO!
"I love u baby. I miss talking about ur boobs 24/7 and touching them......I miss waking up to find ur legs poking out of my cupboard.....I miss shouting at u when u wouldn't let me get any fucking sleep or work done....sleep is overrated anywayy....I miss banishing u from my room....and how every night u'd say fine....ur not gonna see me now...I mean it.....and I’d still wake up to the sound of ur chatter and cigarette smoke..... I miss making u laugh...but not making u cry.....I miss how protective u were of me when it came to boys....I miss the hundreds of sambuca shots...yumyumm.....I miss finding ur sexy lingerie and half ur wardrobe in my room and threatening to chuck it all away...I miss and love how u came all the way to Heathrow to see me off despite the transport strike!...I miss how u always cared so much about wht I thoughttt....and ur right...I miss the non stop banter and ur stories even if I had to hear them ten times over!....I miss hearing ur daily mantra of...oo I’m shaz....I’m sexy...I’m gorgeous....my boobs are lush....u know u want me! because ur right....u r and I do!.... "
"I love your face
I love your boobs
I love your curly hair
I love your legs (espesh in those wedges ;) )
I love your smile
I love your eyes
I love your mass texts
I love it when you sleep on desks
I love youuuuuuuuu
the END."
the word "AMAZING" was used by a certain someone. what's wrong with me I should be jumping up and down with excitement. but I’m more MEH! about it.
AND I HATE PEOPLE WHO ARE MEH!
Tuesday, 25 November 2008
We were in the butter aisle.
So today has been one of those days.
At first I saw it as one of the worst days ever. But turned out okay you know.
Just stupid things. But I think I've learnt to just take a minute out and reflect on situations.
Like when I went into this lab, and I have no one to pair up with. For about 3 whole minutes I burnt with embarrassment. I revert back being to 6 years old, but to be honest it's the question you ask yourself an embarrasingly stupid amount of times.
"DOES NO ONE LIKE ME?"
Oh they were excruciating. I moved my things. I felt pity resonate from the girls on the bench by mine. Pity is all they have to offer. Do I take it? Yeah a little. But I feel an immediate pang of guilt. I say to myself, "Man-up damn it! It's a titration. It's not gonna kill you to do it alone."
It didn't. In fact there was a student who turned up late. But it did make me realise. After that first three painful minutes, I realised I could do it.
The night previous to this. I'd had the mother of all strops. I made noodles. And listened to my favourite Amy Winehouse songs. Over. And over. And over.
Sometimes I think I enjoy floundering a little. Not the actual floundering. But somehow plodding through. The plodding through amuses me IMMENSELY.
At first I saw it as one of the worst days ever. But turned out okay you know.
Just stupid things. But I think I've learnt to just take a minute out and reflect on situations.
Like when I went into this lab, and I have no one to pair up with. For about 3 whole minutes I burnt with embarrassment. I revert back being to 6 years old, but to be honest it's the question you ask yourself an embarrasingly stupid amount of times.
"DOES NO ONE LIKE ME?"
Oh they were excruciating. I moved my things. I felt pity resonate from the girls on the bench by mine. Pity is all they have to offer. Do I take it? Yeah a little. But I feel an immediate pang of guilt. I say to myself, "Man-up damn it! It's a titration. It's not gonna kill you to do it alone."
It didn't. In fact there was a student who turned up late. But it did make me realise. After that first three painful minutes, I realised I could do it.
The night previous to this. I'd had the mother of all strops. I made noodles. And listened to my favourite Amy Winehouse songs. Over. And over. And over.
Sometimes I think I enjoy floundering a little. Not the actual floundering. But somehow plodding through. The plodding through amuses me IMMENSELY.
Monday, 24 November 2008
I get knocked down.
I'M NOT GETTING UP AGAIN. I GIVE UP.
ARGH!
It's times like these all you want is junk food. And cheap alcohol. And you nearest dearest.
And it's times like this where your emotions get so on top of you that the slightest STUPIDEST things remind you of people.
And this isn't heartbreak. It's just pride.
Take off this make up.
Make some food.
Right as rain. But since when has rain been right?
Rain's only good when you're happy. So maybe I need to be happier.
Bring me happiness. In a jar. I'll keep it in the fridge. And spread it on toast when I'm feeling down. Have a slice with some tea.
And then sleep. For a bit. Wake up. Feel good. If I can pull myself out of bed.
Not a miserable thing that. Having to pull myself out of bed. In fact I just like sleeping. It's pure laziness that.
I miss that I can't even go to the pub with anyone and rant this shit out. The handful of people I felt I could ask don't even bother to text back or have to have things their way.
I CAN'T BE BOTHERED WITH YOU. I know I should. And I've tried. But your true colours are ugly. Yes I've seen them. With your dumping me for some guy who's CLEARLY not interested. Or your difficulty in walking 10 mins for me. You guys look after number one. Like mummy and daddy told you to.
Thing is. You can't all be selfish bastards and expect much back from the world. The world will tell you to fuck off.. Just like you did two minutes ago. And about a half an hour before that. I could go on...
So here I am. Off for some pot noodle and House. After I rid myself of this mascara-tear stained face.
ARGH!
It's times like these all you want is junk food. And cheap alcohol. And you nearest dearest.
And it's times like this where your emotions get so on top of you that the slightest STUPIDEST things remind you of people.
And this isn't heartbreak. It's just pride.
Take off this make up.
Make some food.
Right as rain. But since when has rain been right?
Rain's only good when you're happy. So maybe I need to be happier.
Bring me happiness. In a jar. I'll keep it in the fridge. And spread it on toast when I'm feeling down. Have a slice with some tea.
And then sleep. For a bit. Wake up. Feel good. If I can pull myself out of bed.
Not a miserable thing that. Having to pull myself out of bed. In fact I just like sleeping. It's pure laziness that.
I miss that I can't even go to the pub with anyone and rant this shit out. The handful of people I felt I could ask don't even bother to text back or have to have things their way.
I CAN'T BE BOTHERED WITH YOU. I know I should. And I've tried. But your true colours are ugly. Yes I've seen them. With your dumping me for some guy who's CLEARLY not interested. Or your difficulty in walking 10 mins for me. You guys look after number one. Like mummy and daddy told you to.
Thing is. You can't all be selfish bastards and expect much back from the world. The world will tell you to fuck off.. Just like you did two minutes ago. And about a half an hour before that. I could go on...
So here I am. Off for some pot noodle and House. After I rid myself of this mascara-tear stained face.
Sunday, 23 November 2008
Rant (number one.)
Well it's been one of them days. I shouldn't be doing this but I am. It's in my nature to be stupid like this. And panic. Well. I only panic sometimes. When it's not really needed.
I feel like a pot. Full of memories. But when I say that I don't mean in a "Ah I remember that. Oh how I miss it."
It's stupid stuff aswell.
Like just now. I texted a certain man. A sexy man let's say. And he said something, which although he didn't mean in anyway, that made me think of a time when I got hurt. Real bad. With words.
First crush. I'm not gonna say love. That's too dramatic. It wasn't love. It was a really bad crush.
And he told me that he didn't like me anymore because I'm fat. I wanted him to die. I think a little part of me still does. Not so much for the actual line. But more for how absolutely shit he made me feel.
Oh that was a real memory. I felt in my stomach the exact feeling. But worse than that, the fear of it happening again.
But it didn't.
On to other stuff. Recently I've been thinking about Karma. And Sod's Law. Because I'm adamant they're linked.
Karma. I do good. Good happens to me. Simple enough right?
Sod's Law. I see something. Or feel something. Anticipating what will happen. Whether a plan will work. Or an idea will become a reality. I think good and hard. I like the details. I like the feel of the whole thing. THEN. It stops. Dead in the water.
Which takes the piss out of my life. To be quite frank.
And that's the story of my life so far. I'll let you know if it changes.
Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net
I feel like a pot. Full of memories. But when I say that I don't mean in a "Ah I remember that. Oh how I miss it."
It's stupid stuff aswell.
Like just now. I texted a certain man. A sexy man let's say. And he said something, which although he didn't mean in anyway, that made me think of a time when I got hurt. Real bad. With words.
First crush. I'm not gonna say love. That's too dramatic. It wasn't love. It was a really bad crush.
And he told me that he didn't like me anymore because I'm fat. I wanted him to die. I think a little part of me still does. Not so much for the actual line. But more for how absolutely shit he made me feel.
Oh that was a real memory. I felt in my stomach the exact feeling. But worse than that, the fear of it happening again.
But it didn't.
On to other stuff. Recently I've been thinking about Karma. And Sod's Law. Because I'm adamant they're linked.
Karma. I do good. Good happens to me. Simple enough right?
Sod's Law. I see something. Or feel something. Anticipating what will happen. Whether a plan will work. Or an idea will become a reality. I think good and hard. I like the details. I like the feel of the whole thing. THEN. It stops. Dead in the water.
Which takes the piss out of my life. To be quite frank.
And that's the story of my life so far. I'll let you know if it changes.
Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net
Tuesday, 29 January 2008
There's always a first...
Hello!
This my friends is my FIRST blog.
Well on here anyway!
So give me a while and I'll get something interesting up.
Ok?
Love you(s)
x
This my friends is my FIRST blog.
Well on here anyway!
So give me a while and I'll get something interesting up.
Ok?
Love you(s)
x
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