ANGRY BISCUIT

For those of you that have been living in some kind of self-absorbed (but simultaneously deliriously-happy) bubble for the past 18 and a bit years of my life, you have missed out on many, many new phrases that I've invented, e.g. "photografaffed"; for when someone WILL not stop taking terrible picture of you.
This particular post, however, is centered around the concept of an angry biscuit. The biscuit you HAVE to eat when you're feeling grumpy in order to sooth those angry waves of HATRED that would otherwise comsume you like a petrol-doused fire.
It can be any kind of biscuit.It's not a picky biscuit.
The only conditions being that you must be seriously ticked off at the time, and you can't enjoy a single mouthful because you are in fact, so angry.
Dont' judge me, you've all done it.

Misplaced anger at it's actual finest.
Though now I'm covered in guilt-crumbs:(
(crumbs from an angry biscuit that induce guilt due to the sensitive nature of eating a biscuit BECAUSE IT SOOTHS YOU)

"I have not had ANY WINE"

She lied.

Anyway, I've had a fabulous evening. I went out for a meal with some very dear friends of mine and ate a burrito that was bigger than me!
It was delicious and I ate it all, like a good little girl.
Now I just need some liposuction or something for the GIGANTIC belly it's given me.

#fatsam

Fail day.

Everyone has one.
That day where everything goes wrong.(I said I never exaggerate.)It all started this morning with me waking up at 6am perfectly awake. Who does that?! I'd had 4 hours sleep, and apparently that was all I needed, so I got up and had to revise.THEN, I decided to walk into town to get some black jeans that I've been wanting for AGES, but when I finally found some, instead of looking like this;
They looked like this:*cries inside*
Apparently I have chunky thighs and designers make jeans that are about an entire foot longer than my legs. Why?!
And it just got worse from there...



WHY?!?!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

"you look like a rose"

So, I work as a bar wench.
Yeah man, you just got a really little bit of background on the elusive blogger.
And as a by-product of this job, I often encounter rather drunk individuals who take it upon themselves to voice whatever thought comes to mind... even if it's reasonably incoherent.
I have had some fantastic comments in the past, the best being;
"they should make little dolls of you"
"are you from Poland? You kinda look like you are"
"do you want a man that'll treat you right?"
"so, you wanna do bar work as a career?"
and, last but not least,"you look like a rose"
.........
I apparently look like a rose.
Now, I pride myself on having a fairly visual mind, (if you say something- I will imagine it) so this particular comment really set the gears going, if you get me.
I look like a rose?!
What would that even entail, silly drunk man?
(A question that, in hindsight, I should've asked him)

Yep, that's the most accurate self-portrait I've ever done.
Er, no.
Also, I think he meant it as a compliment, which;
1) is flippin' ridiculous. I'm not sure if he meant I look like I'd fall apart if he touched me, or if he meant that I was a little bit spikey, or if he meant that my face folds in on itself a bit. None of which are particularly flattering comments to make.
2) I was also wearing the MOST unattractive shirt ever because apparently I am PUNISHED for not knowing anything about the world cup by being given a massive football-related shirt to wear, so a compliment was pretty out of the question, if we're being honest. I'd have preferred a rope or something to help me save myself from DROWNING in my clothing.
Moral of this blog; don't try to compliment women. Women overthink everything.

Gravity Printer

My printer is world famous.
Well..
Famous in my social circle.
But not for the right reasons.
My printer has a unique ability, similar to that of an existential being, which it likes to show off at ANY time of day.
My printer... Has it's own gravitational force.
And it's a right little bastard about it.Now I know in physics, "everything has its own gravitational pull, but it's just too small-" blah blah blah. My printer's is MASSIVE. If anyone ever drops anything in my room, no matter how close they are to the printer,whatever they've dropped will hit it. I can be sat at my computer idling my time away, when suddenly there'll be a disturbance in the force. This causes me to cautiously look towards the printer, and LOW AND BEHOLD, a poster has fallen on top of it from across the room.
Literally, this poster's flown about 7 feet over to my printer.
Any tennis balls in my room?
They'll hit the printer.
If anything falls off the desk at any point in the day; it'll land IN the printer.
Oh, what's that? Any money I have is going to fall inside the paper slot for the printer?
Of course it is.
I'm not sure how much extra my Uncle will've had to pay to get a printer with such annoying (but amazing) powers.
It makes me wonder if the printer has any form of conscious? Maybe it simply lacks the capacity to speak. Maybe it has little depressed/suicidal tendancies and likes to do the equivalent to a printer self-harm. In which case, I should probably take it to a psychiatrist...
HOWEVER, I think it's actually just a smug little bastard with a wicked sense of humour.
Seriously Printer.
I'll cut you.

It's sunny.

...but we live in Britain...

A love story

It all started in Netto at about lunchtime... I wasn't particularly enjoying the experience as I woke up feeling a bit under the weather this morning and it was hot outside, but cold in Netto.

Apparently Netto take their airconditioning very seriously.


So I was strolling around, dealing with the disappointment that they had run out of paté (this was the icing on the cake of terrible-ness that my day was slowly baking into), and that's when I saw them.
Gleaming under the fluorescent lights of aisle 2, the beauty that befell upon my eyes was one that I'll not forget... for a few days at least.

I had re-discovered Toffee Crisps. (it was nearly as good as when I found that packet of french toast in costcutter)
- those beautifully crunchy, toffee-filled chocolate bars that kept me sane throughout my childhood that I had harshly cast aside when I had realised how delicious Twix's were (which is a tasty observation that still stands).I grabbed a WHOLE packet without hesitation and ran to the till... though in retrospect, running might not have been a good idea as the floor was very slippy. I very nearly hurt myself.
Anyway.
My bond with the toffee crisps had put me in a new-found fabulous mood and I couldn't wait to take them to my room and treat them right...

I think you can see where this is going.


NOM.

Genuine Question.

Sharks.
I would hope that anyone reading this blog has a vague idea in the reservoir of their mind as to what a shark is, because it's reasonably common knowledge. However, if you are reading this and are thinking to yourself "'Shark'? What's a shark? Hey, who says this common knowledge? I feel knowledge-less and alone, I wish she would tell me what one is", then here you go, gimpoids.
Sharks are sea-dwelling creatures that are kinda like giant fish. They have a billion teeth (I never exaggerate) and they prey on seals and other such cute-looking animals. and if you still don't really have any clue what one is; don't go in the sea. Ever.
No.I'm not even joking.
... Unless of course you want to lose your leg. I'm not judging you...
ANYWAY.This is a shark:

And THIS is how I imagine sharks:

Please take care to note the blood EVERYWHERE, and the numerous battle wounds from fighting other sharks for some kind of hierarchical 'win'. Also, this shark is called Pedro and his weapon of choice is a hammer. Now I know what you're thinking-
"Pedro?"
-His mother was Spanish.
And he carries a hammer because it's frickin' scary and he's a SHARK so he can.
(it's rust-proof)

Now my genuine question;
Are sharks angry?
Like, do they 'nom' everything out of a sheer hatred of the world and an insatiable desire to gnash their billions of teeth around some kind of flesh? Are they driven by a genuine aggressive desire to cause destruction like that idiot 15 year old boy who lives across the street from you? Or are they simply misunderstood? So many thoughts.
I mean, I posed this question to someone I respect as an intellectual on an arbitrary bus ride, and instead of questioning me, she answered with "no, but I bet they're pretty stupid".

What
a
speciesist.

Answer my question and I shall repay you with intrapsychic gratitude. (so worth it)

And the moral of this post is; don't daydream about sharks on the bus... or you may discover your friends are actually proponents of speciesism.
Bad times.