Sunday, 20 November 2011

The last 4 months

I stopped writing in this blog 4 months ago today, but am still getting over 100 hits a month. Which is ironic, because it's probably more than I'm getting on my new blog. But anyway, girl, why are you still reading this, and who are you?

Anyway, In early July I went to Rio for a month, PARTY CAPITAL OF THE WORLD.
And then In august, I went to Istanbul. GATEWAY FROM EAST TO WEST. And I'm still there now, having lot's of fun. Read about it on my tumblr! Who am I even talking to anyway?

Thursday, 21 July 2011

I've tumblr'd myself.

Carry on reading at my tumblr

Thursday, 9 June 2011


So I haven't made a post in 6 weeks. I've reached the point of not caring about this blog. That's a bad point to reach. There was a lot not worth writing about, like all my University deadlines. If you care, I had four essays and five exams in the month after the marathon. I've got three results back. One was a low 2.1, one was a good 1st, and one was an amazing 1st. I basically got full marks, and the teacher had nothing bad to say. That was the essay I wrote on the Marathon. I think I'll post it on here, its 6000 words so you probably won't read it, but it saves me doing another post about the marathon. You won't have to heard me say the word "Marathon" again. Not until next year anyway.

After the Marathon, the next exciting thing to happen was that Will and Kate got married (FYI). I watched it in bed.

Not alone obviously. Olivia was my Princess for the day. She was even wearing a real Tiara. But she doesn't want to be seen here.

Olivia left me for some seasonal work in Australia.

And you know what filled the hole she left in my life? My stalker. That's right. I had a stalker for a while in 2010. He would pop up in the most awkward places and fuck my day up. Well he reared his ugly head last month and fucked my whole life up, and I've been having bad dreams about him every night since. Seriously. I could name him and shame him but that would be mean. Maybe if he crops up again, I will. Unless I dispose of him first.

But it might not have to come to that. Because I dyed my hair blond, so he won't be able to find me. (That's not true. He likely knows i've dyed my hair, but I needed an excuse to mention it to you). And blonde's definitely do have more fun. Maybe not more fun in life, per se. But more fun with different colours of dye. What's that saying? "You can't paint a shit pink" or something. Well you can't dye black hair pink either.

Or green.

Tuesday, 12 April 2011

The War of Bernie and Rose. I

I live with my Grandparents, i'm sure some of you know. Bernie - the cynical hag, who spends 7 months of every year drunk, and the other 5 months sitting with me at the kitchen table, bitching about everyone else in the world. And Sean - the mysterious old man that spends 12 months of the year writing letters to someone infront of his 48-inch television. We have a good relationship. Seany in his living room, bernie in her kitchen, and me in my bedroom for the most part.

Above us, in 64B, live Wayne and Tom. A gay couple. For a few months, Tom has been making crude and pervacious advances toward me on Grindr, which I politely went along with until I obtained his and Wayne's wifi password, then I blocked him.

Wayne is an Australian. He has a mother called Rosemarie (Don't worry, this story does actually go somewhere). She is a devout catholic, or so i've heard, and she, while wanting to visit England in the past, was abhored by the idea of homosexuality. And in a grand falling-out with Tom one day, everyone thought it best that Rosemarie, on her frequent stays in the UK locate herself downstairs, with the other old people. At this juncture in their saga, I was about to leave for a holiday, and only met Rosemarie once, on my departure. A svelte, 5'10 figure, with healthy curls of waist length grey hair appeared from the top of the stairs. "Are you Luke?" she smiled. Her pearly white teeth resonating through the unholy darkness, "God bless on your travels! And God tells me we will meet again!"

"God tells me we won't, because you're very old, and you live in Australia" I thought. How wrong I was. Rosemarie returned last week. This time I am here to witness her first hand, and can finally understand why my grandmother chose, of all the descriptives available to call this God-loving woman, a "Cunt".

Marathon training, weeks 19 - 21

I didn't make separate entires for these three weeks because, drawing so close to the end of it all, everything's become quite monotonous, really. Although i've been doing things these three weeks that I hadn't done for the first 18.

I've been to physiotherapy twice, which is quite enjoyable. My physiotherapist is a turkish cpriot, and i'm a greek cyprio, so he get's all his racial anger out on my calves, so we both win.

I've started to delve into some research i'm doing for an essay on the marathon. Maybe too much research. But it means that i'm not just running it for running-its-sake, but for research purposes, so whether I give up and die, or breeze through to the finish line in seconds, I will have something to write about, I hope.

I raised £200 in these three weeks. I was hoping for more, but i've got wind that "the average" fundraiser is at 50% with one week to go. I'm at 61%. Win. I will keep nagging you, for the next 6 weeks, to donate on my behalf, so you should do it.

I've started tapering, so 2 weeks ago, after my longest run yet, 15 miles, i get to relax more and eat more than ever, which is fun.

Can't beleive there's less than a week left. Not really a training week at all. It seems to me as though I haven't trained for long or hard enough; I've heard a lot recently about how mammoth a marathon is supposed to be, and that half of it is in in the training. It's been quite enjoyable for me. Maybe because i'm young.

Tuesday, 5 April 2011

The Curse of April 17th

I'm cursed. By April 17th. Or at least I think I am. But I'm going to document this now, in 2011, so that if the curse plays out, and I die on April 17th, you'll all be safe in the knowledge that I told you so.

The curse isn't necessarily a bad thing, but I've noticed that for as long as I can remember (April 17th 2007), something monumental/dire has happened in my life. Let's start with April 17th 2007; I broke up with my first "real" boyfriend on this day. Hardly life changing, but it was a big deal at the time. One year later, I found myself in someone else's bed, and I was like "Oh snap! It's a year today since I broke up with Matt! How far I've come!" Little did I know that the sex I had on A17th08* (*Does that work?) would lead me into a painful, one sided relationship a la Kate Winslet in The Holiday.

So so far - My first break-up. I fell in Love. 2009 was a bit different in that what happened was that I shat myself.

Yeah you heard me. It was just a normal day, A17th09 to be precise, and I hadn't yet clocked on to my curse. I was in the middle of a Jungle, in a homophobic country, so obviously the Curse-Master couldn't inflict any romance related calamities on me this day. But I got out of my hut, as I did every morning, brushed my teeth by the river side, in my swim shorts and t-shirt whilst watching the hundreds of school children sweep the grass (???). My tooth-brushing was, as always, interrupted by the headmasters house-girl telling me my breakfast was ready. So I put my toothbrush back in my hut, and crossed the busy field to the headmasters hut, where I sat with him and his wife, to our usual breakfast of Hot water and fresh bread. And then suddenly I shat. It wasn't even faux flatulence. One second I was chewing by bread, the next second I was shitting. At a table full of people, in loose shorts, in a house without a toilet. I had no choice but to finish my breakfast with a stern face, and politely excuse myself, somehow keeping my back to the wall. I couldn't keep my back to the wall when crossing the field, back to my hut, but who knows what, if anything, the children saw. They probably just saw the crazy white man clutching at his shorts for no reason. Anyway, we don't need to know the rest of the story. Suffice to say I got washed and changed and went to school. The point is - Who shit's themselves?! Nobody does. Except children, old people, people who are having anal sex, and people who are cursed. We know which category I fell into on that day, don't we (the cursed one). It was only in writing it in my diary that night that I spotted the date at the top of the page! I noticed the trend, How exiting.

Forward a year; April 17th 2010. After basically exactly 2 years of self inflicted torture, I found myself in that boys bed again. Fooling around. It's something I'd wished for for years, and as I kissed him, I felt emancipated from my wishes, and basically got over it. Who knew how simple it was! Besides the fact that we fell out a month later, the curse had been broken!!! A break-up, unrequited love, and a shit. I'd ended it with something good! An emancipation! Woohoo! I got on with my life for another year.

Then last week, I realised something. The most important trial of 2011 for me so far, is going to be The London Marathon. Guess what Sherlock. It's on April 17th.

It awaits to be seen whether the events of A17th10 mean that the curse is now a good curse, or whether it was just an off year, and I'm going to break my leg and die at mile 23. Maybe nothing will happen; i'll receive an average time and my legs will hurt a bit; but it is definitely something major, and definitely on april 17th, so that's definitely the 5th year in a row. And now I have the blog entry to prove that curses exist. Stay tuned for A17th12 - end of the world edition.

Friday, 1 April 2011

R U Flirting Wiv Me?

And other conversations.

Actually, I'm making fun of your name.

My brief and sickening brush with vagina...

My brief and lively brush with drugs...

My brief and tragic brush with unhappy people...

Monday, 21 March 2011

Marathon Training, week 18

It's getting very close to the day now.

This week i received a package from Virgin, it had shoelaces, a countdown clock, and a magazine reminding me that I wasn't training enough and that I should eat a lot more carbs, and hyping the whole event up before telling me not to panic. Thanks for that virgin. I'm now officially shit scared, but also a bit exited.

I went to Muscle-Activation-Therapy this week, to help me with my injured leg. It's a kind of new-age Physiotherapy. It was really good, but subsequent sessions would cost me £85 a go, so they let me go.

Luckily my leg stopped hurting, finally, after 3 miserable weeks, and I ran 5 miles this week. That's it. 5 fucking miles, a month before the marathon!!! Well, this week, week 19, i'm going to be back on track. Fuck the yoga. Fuck the bike machine. This is real life...

Also, raised £136.20 this week. Another £130 next week?!? Yes please.

Friday, 18 March 2011

Who the hell are these children?

You're going to just have to watch these videos before I start judging them, in case I put you off. You don't have to watch each video to the end lest you die. Have I said too much?

I don't know why I'm making these video's even more viral than they are. Granted that 4 year old can actually rap quite well, for a child.
We're now in an age where every 13 year old can get an HD camcorder, and autotune for christmas, which means, what the Black Eyed peas were doing in 2009, Rebecca Black is doing just as good in 2011. This now means that real, decent music artists need to step up their game, and start making Kanye style music videos.

If you have autotune, and the limited amount of brain cells it requires to write a song in which "Friday" rhymes with "Saturday", then you're going to get onto the Hit 100. How upsetting. The real talent has had to resort to writing songs about Transexuals, and Polygamy. Granted, their video's are a damn sight better.

Not too sure what my point is. I don't usually make entries like this. Maybe this is my point:

Sunday, 13 March 2011

Marathon Training, week 17

So apparently I hurt my leg somewhere along the line last week. Tried to run last weekend and it hurt a bit. So I had this week off! Much to my annoyance. I've actually hated not exercising, and felt like a big fat unhealthy cretin. I did my yoga, and spent 3 hours on the bike machine, to keep my cardio up. Doesn't feel like a lot. Only a month to go; need to heal my leg, and step this shit up!

Raised £135 this week! Yes! That's as much as last week. Let's aim for the same again next week, although i'm running out of wonderful people like my Abigail and my Uncle Alan to sponsor me £50. Why don't YOU sponsor me that much?! How nice would that be. Do it for easter with all the money you've saved not drinking, or whatever it is you're "giving up". Yes that's right. Give ME you're money.

I also got my Running vest in the post. WOO. Although it is a size too big, i still look fierce.

Click here if you think I am a very hard working, determined individual.

Sunday, 6 March 2011

Marathon Training, week 16


Well, I'm not complaining. If i had one complaint, it would be the weather. It's so cold guys. Running in shorts and a t-shirt! I've been sneezing a lot this week. That would be shit; not running the marathon because i caught a cold!!!

Another complaint… or more of an observation of something annoying, is how complex and thought provoking a long distance run can be. No-one likes running in circles, so i generally use a long journey to coincide with such runs. Usually home-uni, or uni-my parents house, or the dentist-uni or some other shit like that. But then i will need a shower at my destination, and a change of clothes, so i always have to go there a day or 2 earlier and stash these things, kind of defeating the point of using the run to coincide with the journey, if i have to make the same journey anyway to prepare for the run! Then that leaves me with what I HAVE to carry - water, banana, carbo-gel, ipod, phone, wallet, blister plasters. I only have two hands, so I literally sellotape these things together and then hold them in two handy packages. Besides looking like i freak, I can never forget my sellotape wherever I go.

Did my usual shit this week - A threshold run, yoga, then my longest run yet - 13.2 miles! That's just over a half marathon :). It hurt a bit for the last 20 minutes, and I got upset that I was only halfway toward my eventual goal. My leg still hurts, i think I pulled something mildly. Then finished the week with some good old Interval Training.

Also, I saw a billboard advertising something to do with the marathon this week, and ran past quite a few other people running, so there's a big sense of anticipation in the air!

Now I have two very positive things to tell you;

1. I raised £115 this week!!!!!! That is SO DAMN MUCH. To put it in perspective, I raised £140 in the whole of february. Let's see if i can keep it in triple digits next week :) Big thank you to Raffaella and my baby brother Nick!

2. While dancing naked in front of the mirror, I noticed some muscle definition in my stomach that wasn't there before. I put that down to the Interval Training to be honest. But yeah, physical results are becoming visible results, which is encouraging!

If i haven't asked you personally yet, I will. If I have, and you haven't sponsored me - I'm writing a damn list. There's no escape from me and my good cause.

Wednesday, 2 March 2011

Malta, The Grand Finale

Exhausted from their trek through the forted city of Valetta, Olivia and Lukas arrived back at Saint Julians. It was dark now, and althought it was only 7pm, they did not want to risk the closure of the city ruining their evening like it had previously, so they raced out to the liquor store and bought some Tequila. The shop next door the the liquor store was, quite coincidentally, a vegetable store, and they bought some lemons.

A shrine was promptly made.

After a lot of tequila and lemon, the gang headed out. Not before tucking Batsebabitch into bed of course. They headed to the country's best bar strip, where they were instantly accosted by slags with vouchers.

They used their slag vouchers to gain entry and free drinks in several bars. Lukas was quite put off by how much this place reminded him of straight clubs in London, and came to the conclusion that he didn't like straight bars. So they decided to stay in the one bar for about an hour, before looking for some gay hangouts.

A camp song came on and suddenly Lukas forgot his inhibitions and forced Olivia to start pole-dancing for the crowd. Hesitantly, se wrapped her legs around the greasy pole and began to writhe. A big old fat man then climbed onto the podium.

"I'm not having Olivia dance with him!" Lukas thought, so he climbed onto the podium too, and politely threw the man to the groud. To keep himself from looking like an overprotective fag, Lukas then began to grind on Olivia, till the songs close. "Oh my God," said Olivia "I feel like we just had real sex!"
This was greeted by silence from Lukas. That's just how he likes to dance.

They left the straight bar strip, and decided to go and buy some more Tequila before heading to the gay bars.

They didn't get any Tequila, and they didn't go to any gar bars.

At some point along the journey, Olivia managed to lose her shoes. So they had to tread slowly and carefully along the probably-unsafe roads of St. Juliens. Because of their speed, about half way through the journey, they heard in the distance the instantly recognisable screeching of Rihanna. Being a gay, a girl, and being drunk, they held hands and began to race toward the comforting sound, throwing caution to the wind, and treading on God knows what.

They found the bar that "Only Girl In The World" was playing, and ran inside without a second thought and proceeded to wail and dance their way through the song. Only when it was over did they think to look around the bar, where their eyes were met by about 10 pairs of crop-haired, army-panted, lesbian eyes, looking at them in disgust. Suddenly one of them screamed at them "A STRAIGHT GIRL, AND A MAN. IN OUR LESBIAN BAR. YOU MUST LEAVE. YOU SHALL NOT SULLY OUR LESBIAN SHRINE" with her eyes, and so they got the hint and left.

Outside, they stumbled upon two of these stereotyped lesbians, and thought they would try and infiltrate the cult by talking. To their surprise, these girls were also from London. Rachel, the first was called, lived very nearby in fact; in Watford! She was here on a DJ'ing holiday, staying at the Hilton, all expenses paid, or so she led them to believe. The other lesbian was beyond hope and didn't know how to communicate with anything that had ever touched a penis, and so instead threw the occasional angry or upset glace at them.

Over the course of the next hour, Lukas, Olivia, Rachel and Gremlock bonded somewhat; smoking, drinking, laughing. Quizzing eachother about sexual practises, and Rachel showing the occasional mind-blowing card trick. At one point, they picked a card at random - the 6 of Diamonds. They put it back in the deck, she shuffled. She then proceeded to go through the deck with them, asking them to stop her when they saw their card. Lo, the 6 of Diamonds never came up. "Our card isn't there!" they harked. "Yes," she said, "Because it is here!" and then she reached into her mouth and pulled out a folded card, covered in saliva. She unfolded it and it was the 6 of Diamonds. How they laughed.

Suddenly they realised Gremlock had left. They didn't miss her, but felt like maybe the party was over, and so hailed a cab. "Come back to mine!" offered Rachel, "I have loads of drinks, 2 double beds and a sound system!"
It sounded like a good idea, but they had an early plane to catch, and so decided they would get a cab first to their hostel, and then to Rachels hotel.

Ever the drunks, some sort of conversation was had with the driver of the cab. Lukas told him of Rachel's peculiar lifestyle choice, which pleased him. Suddenly the three of them were in the cab with the driver, and he suggested an obscene gay on straight on bi on lesbian action, involving all of them. They exitedly agreed, but thought it was best to do this in the parking lot of the Hilton, so they raced across town to the Hostel.
"I will be FIVE minutes" said Lukas. "I'm just getting all of our stuff." before kissing Rachel passionately (???) and running up to the room.

The room was in a fucking state. Twenty minutes later, he was still packing and tidying, When Olivia came upstairs, as pale as a sheet.
"I got down and dirty with Rachel" Isn't exactly what she said. The real phrase is locked away in the recesses of Lukas's fragile mind.
"You did what!" He screamed.
Olivia then went into detail as to the goings on in the cab that happened with everyone but Lukas present. She did this through interpretive dance and via the use of a green balloon.

Suddenly Lukas felt quite glad that he'd spent such a large portion of the evening cleaning, rather than indulging in such sadist activities. But still, they finished packing, and turned to leave the room, to get back into the sex cab.

You know when someone has been standing there for a long time, but you don't realise it until you walk straight into their muscular chest? Well that is what happened next. There was a huge man blocking the doorway to the room. How long he had been there, nobody could tell, but he was angry. He began interrogating our superheroes as to whether this really was their room and why they were leaving in the middle of the night. Our superheroes thought it would be funny to call him gay, and then watch him slam his fists into the wall and make other such testosterone induced gestures.

Eventually, after a lot of provoking on both teams behalves, all three of them decided to leave and get into the sex cab (Seriously). Lukas took the stairs while Olivia and the Neanderthal took the lift. Lukas reached the lobby and realised that the building was only 3 floors and so the lift should have reached her for sure by now. A whole minute later he took action and pressed the lift button. The door slid open, proving that the lift had been standing there idly for some time. Inside there was an attempted rape scene unfolding, not only in the lift, but in both of the mirrored walls of the lift, too. The neanderthal, although he probably could have killed Lukas with one hand, was caught like a deer in the headlights and let Olivia go.

They exited and the Neanderthal turned left. Our superheroes turned right, and with all their bags, ran to where the cab was waiting to free them. The cab was gone.

To this day, nobody knows what happened to Rachel, or the driver, or whether or not what may or may not have happened between them was consented. But at that very moment Lukas reached into his pocket and found a folded piece of card.

Oh Rachel...

Not wasting any time, they ran back to the Hostel, cautious of the return of the Neanderthal. They dumped their bags, and decided to return to where the party was at. They ran back outside and headed back towards town.

"Wait!" Yelled Olivia, en route, "Hide!"
They hid behind a small van.
"Look, over there! It's the Neanderthal!"

Sure enough, across the road, there was the Neanderthal; beer in one hand, the hair of a girl in the other. He took a swig of his beer, and then wretched the girls hair to his face, to make her kiss him. We U-turned and went around the block. Don't worry, we weren't about to allow TWO rapes to occur on this night; the two of them were outside a cafe, and there were other men around watching, to make sure she was safe.

They made it back to the clubbing strip, but as is the apparent trend in Malta, all the clubs were closed. Everyone had migrated to an impressively sized chicken shop. They followed the flock, and got 12 nuggets between them. Scalding their tongues on the hot, deep fried goods sobered them up slightly, but also made them realise just how drunk they were.

They decided it would be wise to turn in for the night now; they had an early flight to catch!

They returned to the Hostel and collapsed asleep.


The following morning, life was quite straightforward for our twosome. Apart from the fact that they got up late. This threw everything out of whack, and they ended up losing their keys. When they eventually found the lost keys, the door to the Hostel decided to not open at all. They took descisive action to get some authority or other to open the door for them. This led them to the discovery that the Neanderthal OWNED the hostel. They had no choice but to befriend his father and convince him to crowbar the hostel door off it's hinges because they could not afford to miss their flight.

Lukas thought that maybe this final hurdle - an intimate moment with the father of a beast was a sign, an opportunity to bring the Neanderthal and his rapist ways down once and for all.
"We have to tell him about his son!" Lukas beseeched.
But then Olivia reminded Lukas that the apple does not fall far from the tree, and locked in a room with this man with a crowbar, telling him that he birthed a rapist probably wasn't wise. So the door was opened, and they left this charming father and son duo to do whatever it is that they get up to in their spare time. Our duo continued down the road and found a wonderful feminist-taxi company, which was good because at this point, there was not a man in Malta that they could trust. And so Maria drove them to the airport, where things went without hitch.

An old lady was sat next to them, in her wheelchair in the departure lounge. A friendly air steward approached her. "Did you enjoy your holiday madame?" She squeeked, timidly.
"NO!" barked the old hag, "I FELL OVER AND BROKE MY ARM."

Good times.

Monday, 28 February 2011

Marathon training, week 15

I'm getting quite close to the day now. The training is getting more and more intense, but i'm noticing it less and less. It's like exercising 4 times a week is just basic now. How will I manage when the whole thing is over? I'm so fit and healthy now, it's hard to imagine my old self.

I spent 3 hours in the gym on Monday, and dragged Abigail along. She was livid. It left us both aching for the rest of the week.

Yoga on Tuesday, as per usual, and i fancy the teacher even more this week.

Wednesday, I ran just short of 13 miles, and again, it wasn't that difficult.

Friday, I did some HIIT.

This week i raised £20, which gets me to the 20% mark, Woohoo!. I want to get to 30% at least, by the end of March. I can onl do that with your help; Http://

Sunday, 20 February 2011

Marathon training, week 14

What a succesful week in comparison to the last!

It was reading week so I was off having fun with Olivia, rather than spending all my time exercising. I did however, manage to go to my Yoga class, on tuesday, as per every other week. And did some yoga of my own three other times; once alone, once with my sister, and once with raffaella. I know enough now to do it comfortably for an hour without needing a class horay.

Two more people commented on what nice legs i have.

I ran 10.6 miles, with some degree of ease, apart from blisters. My furthest yet.

I raised a whopping £64.20. Nearly at 20% :D

The Hobbit and it's effects

At some point in January, in a romantically dimly lit kitchen, two friends of mine... let's call them agents 'R' and 'K' for now, held a thin piece of paper between them. The paper was perforated into bite-sized squares, and each square cloudy white in colour, almost see-through.

"It effects are quite like that of magic mushrooms" Said Agent K, "But obviously, it's synthetic... I can't think of a name for it though!"

"Can i give it a name?!" squealed Agent R "Let's call it... Hobbit!"


A month later, i arrived at a friends housewarming party. I was a few hours late. I was greeted at the door by someone quite drunk "Hi! I'm so glad you came! We're all drunk already!"

"Haha, that's fine... I'll just have to catch up!" I replied, striding into the living room.

"Well if you want to catch up, you'll need to have this too." She whispered, opening her palm to reveal a messily ripped piece of paper. "It's new... it's called 'Hobbit'."

Everyone had already taken this strangely named substance. I was quite apprehensive, as the last "New" drug I tried - Mephedrone - was infamous for making you feel like your oesophagus was dissolving, and the restless, dreadful withdrawal symptoms it left you with as soon as you started to come down, that left you begging for more.

It didn't help that no-one at the party could explain what it was hobbit was supposed to do, so i prepared myself to experience something similar to the effects of Mephedrone.

An hour later, I was still sober, watching my friends roll around the floor in laughter. "EVERYTHING IS SO FUNNY. EVEN THIS SENTENCE IS HILARIOUS!" Someone shouted at me, before running out of the living room. I didn't laugh.

I ate a peanut and suddenly felt like my gastric band was about to explode. I commented on that and my friend said "I felt like that half an hour ago, and now everything is beautiful!"

I spent the next half an hour waiting for whatever god damned epiphany it was that I was supposed to receive. It didn't come, so i burst open the door to the bedroom that everyone was partying in (yes, i'd been wondering around alone), and was greeted by such an insane scene, i couldn't help but laugh. I caught Laura's eye and she laughed at me. I laughed because she was laughing, and she laughed because I was laughing, and everyone else was laughing at everyone else who was also laughing at everyone else. The bed looked so soft, so i closed the door and lay on it and just laughed at how ridiculous the whole world was for about 10 minutes, while everyone else rolled around laughing around me. Then i realised that i'd had the long awaited epiphany!

We all spent the next few hours marvelling at everything around us, and at the words leaving our mouths. Conversation turned into an art form;

"I'm going to leave and get some drinks"
"Look where your foot is! Why don't you leave and get some tables to replace the one you're about to kick."
"Well i wouldn't kick the table if the chair I was on wasn't so far away from the wall"
"Well blame the builders for walling the wall like that!" was the form most conversations took that night; they seemed poetic to us, but were actually moronic and tinged with angst.

The angst got a bit too much at one point, when somebody had a fight with a statue of a dog and we all argued about who may have started it.

Another hour or so later and some of us ventured out of the room to find some hairspray, because "I need to spray my hair with some hairspray! Haha, how funny. spray hair. hair spray."
So my friends sprayed their hair while i sat on the bed and watched. They left the room, but I was suddenly too scared to return to the party. I sat on the bed wondering if everyone was talking about me. I pondered this idea for an hour before I got the courage to return to the room. But the paranoia wouldn't go. A few of us had this nausiating feeling throughout the night, which in fact, for me, made the low lower than the high was high, and so maybe made the drug not worth taking. But I suppose that's why we don't do this sort of thing all the time.
For a 'new' drug, though, Hobbit trumped Mephedrone, hands down. Agent K has since informed me that the more you take, the more psychadelic the experience wil become. So maybe that's an option for the future.

So, the hysteria/paranoia subsided, we ordered a Chinese, and eventually all went home late the next evening.

But that wasn't the last i'd heard from the Hobbit...*

(*To be Continued)

The Sacred book of the werewolf

I don't usually write serious reviews, because i'm not too sure what exactly my opinion counts for, but this book was fantastic, and nobody has heard of it, so i'm just doing my bit.

It's the perfect example of why to not judge a book by it's cover.

I was recomended the 'City Lights' book store in San Francisco, and when inside, i found that the walls were lined with books i'd never heard of, there was no best sellers, or chart topping sections. Just simply good books. I spent a good few hours in there, picking up all sorts of books, not sure which to buy. On my way to the checkout, this one caught my eye. I read the back:


I found this quote quite, well, stupid. This is probably the only book to contain more than one of those elements, never mind all of them, so if you enjoy having all of these elements in your fiction, the Washington Post should have said, then you've probably read this book already!

Aside from that, all those elements did exite me, and so i bought the book. Needless to say, the Washington Post's blurb did not do it much justice.

The book is about a girl, A Hui-li. She's a good few thousand years old, and is a 'Fox'. Ancient were-creatures that look like young girls, but have big bushy fox tails, which they use as hypnotic antenni to confuse people into seeing whatever the fox wills them to. A hui-li confuses men into thinking she just had sex with them, and so they pay her. She's been doing this for thousands of years, and so, understandably, is very jaded by the human race, and the sorts of sex human men can offer her. The first half of the book focuses on A Hui-Li, giving an objective commentary on the life of humans, and the errors of their ways. I did really find myself believing everything this immortal, slightly insane girl told me, despite the fact that it was actually written by a middle aged Russian man.

Anyway, halfway through the book, she whips her tail out to hypnotise a man. He laughs at her, morphs into a huge shaggy beast, and rapes her.

They then discover what sort of "tailechery" two magical were-creatures can do together, and the book, while continuing in its satirical commentary on life, takes a more sexually perverse turn.

A Hui-li, in her jaded, internal monologues provide the reader with many a pearl of wisdom, such as:
"A woman's attractiveness has less to do with her hairstyle, or the lighting, than with a mans balls."

And Alexander, the slightly less intelligent werewolf, often tries to play his part in the books ongoing existential debate:
''The philosopher Berkley believed that everything only exists when it is perceived. If this is so, then sex and masturbation are the same thing. If everything only exists in perception, then surely making love to an imaginary girl is better than making love to a real girl."

I won't give much away, but it was a wonderful read and I learnt a lot from these two characters. You might turn your head away in disgust if your experience of werewolves is now nothing more than those featured in Twilight. But let me assure you, the werewolves in this book are much more exiting; they're cleverer, less frigid, and have much bigger dicks.

Thursday, 17 February 2011

Marathon Training, week 13

On Monday I was set to do my logest run yet - 10 miles.
In the first 2 miles my earphones broke, i cut my arm, my water spilled all over my things in my bag and my calves siezed up, so i hobbled another mile to the train station, defeated.

Decided to take the rest of the week easy - a bit of yoga, and some short treadmill runs.

A bit tired of all this now, not really much of an end in sight, and I managed to scramble £17.50 in sponsorship.
Not to sound too ungrateful, but someone gave me £10, then decided that that was too much and asked for change. Maybe you feel like it is too much, but never give to charity, then ask for change, it's condescending .

So yeah, this week failed. But I'm allowed a miserable week. Next week will be amazing!

Wednesday, 9 February 2011

People on the underground

I did something last year, where I took photo's of women dressing badly on the tube. People liked it, but it's a bit mean, so this week, instead of taking pictures of just women on the train, I took pictures of Everyone!. Or everyone that sat opposite me at least.

I thought this lady was funny because she thought she could single handedly bring back into fashion the scooting commuter. It won't work.

This guy wasn't sat opposite me, but it's Bill, from Kill Bill, so i think I was justified in taking this:

This man fell asleep with his tongue out, snoring.

This old couple looked like twins.

This young couple were both crying, and refusing to look at each other. Divorce? Maybe she didn't like him because of his woman's jeans?

This man was drunk.

How exiting.

Monday, 7 February 2011

Marathon training, week 12

Because I learnt at the conference that I should start running on the streets immediately, i started the week by putting myself to the test - run from my parents house to university.
I did it, quite easily. In an hour and a half. This doesn't include the 20 minutes where i had to stop and apply plasters to my blisters. It was about 8.8 miles. So that's exactly 1/3rd of the marathon. At this rate i will run the marathon in about five hours.


But anyway, it wasn't as difficult as i thought it would be, so i'm going to extend the distance next week by running around the block once beforehand, adding over 2 miles (big block).

On the tuesday I went to a yoga class, to limber up from the run.
On the wednesday, i did some High Interval training.
On the thursday I tried to go to the gym but was fed up.
And on saturday, i did another street run; this time at night time, and for only 5.5 miles. I did it on a full stomach too. Not a good idea.

Although the whole week was easy enough, physically, and in terms of willpower to a degree, it does kind of scare me that that amount of exercise is the bare minimum that i need to be putting in weekly now.

This weeks mileage: 17.3

Raised a massive £56.20 this week which was amazing; thanks to some lovely people :)
See if I can get even more next week!

If you haven't done so already, click HERE to sponsor me.

Thursday, 3 February 2011

Serial Dating

Oh Hiya.

Ever since i reached sexual maturity, up until last october, i'd only ever dated 6 people. Each of those turned either into quite lengthy, significant relationships or lengthy wastes of time. So at some point in the winter I lined up some dates, and conveniently they were all in the same week. So I set myself the challenge of filling up this week - finding seven different men to date in these seven days. I completed the challenge.

Date week arrived and got off to a nice start.

Monday's guy was sweet and funny.

Tuesday's guy was my ex, so it wasn't really a date, more of a catch up, but it was lovely none the less seeing him after a few months.

This lead me, on wednesdays date, to notice all the things he didn't have that monday and tuesday's date did have, and visa versa.

Thursday was much the same as wednesday, and i cancelled friday's so as to spare myself from the monotony.

Saturday's date cancelled me, and I like to think that maybe he had the same tedious experience.

Sunday was a disaster.

The week, on paper, went terribly. But I had actually never felt happier. I don't think there was any sex. Maybe i'm wrong and it was really uninspiring sex, but I can't even remember the guys names so I am pretty sure there wasn't any sex.

Sexless, alone, happy. Three words that apparently go well together. I think it was just the idea of there being a handful of people out there that thought me concupiscible enough to pay me attention that made me happy. So ever since, every now and then, I arrange/agree to a date with somebody I know I probably won't be interested in. We spend an hour or two getting to know eachother, flirting a bit, and probably don't even kiss at the end. But it does leave me with a sense of self worth. People do still fancy me. Or fancy my Grindr picture at least. Maybe I'm using these people, who knows. But yesterday's date had a motorbike, so I might see him again.

Wednesday, 2 February 2011

Laura Greenwood starring in "The Fridge"

Marathon Training, week 11

This week was pretty standard. Did a core workout on friday which left me reeling in pain for days. That gave me the opportunity, on saturday, to go to a Virgin London Marathon conference. Which, aside from being about running, had a Harry Potter theme...
Doesn't make sense, but it was really enjoyable.

This is Harry Jogger, and Rihanna Wheezy:

Hedwig, the fundraising owl...

I got my feet scanned, and found out that i needed to buy the latest Addidas trainer:

I was given carbo-gel. Has the consistency of honey, but tastes like raw potato so it's really hard to swallow. But it's very good.

This is the Head of the Virgin London Marathon:
He was in drag to exemplify people wearing costumes for the marathon. I can't find an explanation for his ridiculous behaviour though. He warned us to not have sex on our knees after the race because we wouldn't be able to stand up. And to not be picked up by old people because they wouldn't be able to assist us in our fatigued state.

I also learnt that i should stop running on the treadmill immediately. Here goes.

I got £20 sponsorship from 2 people this week. Thats 1% more. I was told that the sponsorship really starts 'flooding' in in February, so fingers crossed next week will be amazing.

Monday, 24 January 2011

Marathon Training, week 10

I upped my game this week,

I went for your average run on monday.

Then tuesday, i ran for 70 minutes, which is the longest i've done so far. Here's some proof for all the haters.

Thursday, with a hangover, i ventured into some HIIT (High Intensity Interval Training), which is alternating between sprint-run-sprint-run-sprint run, every minute for 20 minutes. Very hard work.

Saturday (So that's four times in the week, finally), i went for another average run. Except this time, EVERYTHING was against me. There was an old man next to me, going faster and longer than i was, and i think he thought i cared. Him thinking i cared made me angry.
Also, my hair is getting long now, so i kept sweating into my eye, and i was wearing some sort of non-synthetic t-shirt or something so my sweat was clinging to me and weighing me down. So after 12 minutes I wanted to stop. I then had a half an hour arguement with myself in my head, and finally, 45 minutes later, got off the treadmill. I really do think it's time to start running outside. Let's wait till february for that though.

On a side note, i got 2 sponsors this week, from an aquaintance, and from somebody i've never met. Thanks friends.

Click here to sponsor me...

Monday, 17 January 2011

Bitches do weird shit in the Kitchen

This isn't particularly hilarious. But i thought i would share it just because i'm not sure what the fuck was going on here.

My grandma, yes, she's an alcoholic. But she was sober in this video. Yet I can't for the life of me work out what on earth she's doing, or why.

Sunday, 16 January 2011

John Waters V Studio Ghibli, Pt. 2

After the shitfest that was "My neighbour Totoro", We thought that maybe these Anime's deserved a second chance, and that maybe something as Fabulous as Divine was too great a feature to pit against a mere asian cartoon.

So for round two, to make it fairer, we made sure to exclude Divine for the cast list. On the Waters' side, we settled for "Cry Baby". And on the Ghibli side, "Graveyard of the Fireflies", whose chosen cover quote was "One of the greatest war films ever made."

Boy oh boy.

Not the right quote, babe.

Just to let you know, from the beginning, John Waters won.

Grave of the Fireflies

The movie starts with a tramp dieing in a subway station, and then floating away with a little girl into heaven. The screen fades out and we find out that just one month ago, this tramp and this little girl were brother and sister, were very much alive, and neither were tramps. In a live action film, we would be left intruiged. "What is going to lead these poor souls down the slippery slope to death?!" We would ask. But it's a cartoon, so the emotion generally isn't there.

It's World War 2, and we are in Japan. Father is off fighting the Americans, the English, and generally everyone on the good team in the war. So Seita and his little sister Saskimo are at home with mom. A bomb swoops down early on in the film and rips all of mom's skin off. While looking over her lipless, and eyelidless face, Seita and the doctor are very sad. Satsumo however, exclaims that she "Needs to pee" and runs off to a bush. Maybe the script writers wanted to portray childhood innocence. The fact is, no child would piss upon seeing their mothers decimated body.

So without spoiling too much of the film (because it is actually worth watching), Saskila moans a lot, and always at the most inappropriate times. And she is generally what spoils the movie. Partnered with the fact that we already know she is going to die, the viewer is left with an intense feeling of "Shit. This girl is so ungrateful toward her brother. When the fuck is she going to die?!" And then of course, the director, who i can only imagine intended us to have this feeling, gives little Saserello a few near-death-experiences. Just to annoy us. So when she finally does lose her mind and chokes to death on a rock, the viewer can finally enjoy the rest of the film, and find out how Seita becomes a destitute tramp and dies, without Saskello pissing us off. When Seita finally does die, and all is said and done, the film wasn't that unbearable. Grave of the Fireflies gets a 5.5/10!

Cry Baby

I'm not sure where to start with this one. The film itself does better justice than my description, so just watch it.

We have a teenage Johnny Depp, and a teenage Ricki lake as his pregnant sister. Throw in a younger, non-car-insurance-puppet iggy-pop as Johnny's grandfather and a whole host of other ugly, freaky, rule-breaking characters and you get the 'Drapes'. You then have a bunch of non-descript losers; the squares. It's a tongue-in-cheek satire on the whole 'Grease' thing... I would guess, having not seen Grease.

Nobody dies in the beginning of this one, although Hatchet-face can be quite murderous (That's Hatchet-face in the picture above... the one who looks like a hatchett attacked her face).

The story focuses on Cry Baby's (Johnny Depp) ability to shed a single tear at will, and a Square, who is "So tired of being good" being tempted toward the darkside of the Drapes. She joins the drapes and gang-war ensues. I don't want to spoil much, and can't really, because the beauty of the film is greater than the sum of it's parts. It may not have rape, murder, or shit-eating like the other John Waters' films, but the screen play, the acting, and the songs (did i mention it's a musical) are almost faultless.

To top it all off, if you haven't made up your mind yet, at one point in the film, Johnny Depp is crawling round, getting all sweaty, and mysteriously loses his pants. It's good. 9/10

Marathon Training, weeks 4 - 9

I kind of went off the radar with keeping track of this because of Uni. Last term was hard, what with doing a compulsory module, two shit modules, and a third year module; uni took up almost every breath, and i slackened a bit for a fortnight. I came back with a vengeance after Christmas though, and stepped up my game.

I received a leaflet in the post about the different types of running to train with so I've been going up-hill, down-hill, fast, slow, and even tried running at my threshold for a half hour. I ran 4 miles but wouldn't recommend it because i had a massive comedown afterward.

But going hard has definately had it's benefits. I've managed to raise 8% of my minimum sponsorship target. That's not a high percentage, but £1500 is a lot of money. I'm not sure how far i'll get but it being the minimum kind of answers that question for me.

Also, i saw an old flame recently, and he remarked that my "body had change". I "used to be a skinny boy, but now I have the physique of a big man." This filled me slightly with disdain, and i exclaimed "But i want to be a skinny boy!"
To which he replied "Oh but you are. With your clothes on, you're a cute skinny boy, and when you take them off, the manly body is a very nice surprise."
Then, some other things happened.

What we can all learn here is that exercise pays off in a lot of ways.

I'm yet to do a run for longer than 65 minutes, so I think that kind of has to be on the agenda sometime soon. Stay tuned.

Tuesday, 4 January 2011

Monday, 3 January 2011

When they were attractive