Monday, 19 December 2011


Dear all

I hadn't really planned on doing a blog today, but since I removed my hilariously witty t-shirt designs lest the evil corporation tried to steal my ideas and I saw something worth sharing, I thought I'd give you an impromptu treat. AREN'TIGENEROUSYES.

I was casually Facebook stalking people I used to go to school with just now, and came across someone I never really spoke to all that much, but Facebook being what it is, I was forced to click on their page and start scanning through the entire repertoire of meaningless drivel known as their "life". I'm actually still laughing away to myself about what I found.

As I was creeping through this person's pictures and I found one on which they had commented "Oh my shit stain :P" I stopped and read it a few times to make sure I was seeing it right, but indeed, someone had used their own shit stain as a means of exclaiming their surprise and disgust at a photograph.

Really? We're doing that kind of thing now? Am I really out of the loop here? Has this been going on for a while?? What next? "Oh my weeping anus"? "Oh my used sanitary towel"? I am llol-ing (literally laughing out loud <<< fyi, correct use of the word "literally") on my own, in my room, at my own jokes whilst typing this to share it with all you lovely readers. So you'd better be llol-ing too, otherwise I look like a maniacal fool.

Over and Out.

Thursday, 15 December 2011

There's a Hole in that Snowflake

Oh woe is me! Here I am, back at home for Christmas all excited about the prospect of watching Elf and  crocheting to my heart's content in preparation of the upcoming festivities and being reunited with my graphics tablet, only to discover that NONE of these things can happen!

There I was on Sunday afternoon avidly refreshing my Facebook homepage, because all my friends are "so interesting"* and definitely not just a distraction from the portfolio I was trying to finish. I was all *scroll scroll scroll like scroll scroll*, when I saw a status that referred to the fact that Elf, THE best Christmas film of all time would be on that very afternoon...exactly 24 hours before I would be home where there's a TV for me to watch things like Elf and Neighbours and Murder, She Wrote. Oh! I could have WEPT. And I did, inwardly, where people can't judge you for it.

After that, I decided to do a bit of crocheting to calm myself down. And guess what. I bloody bought the bloody wrong bloody wool. Annoyed much? Yes, I was. And that's pretty much the story. I've decided I'm going to blame my mistake on the fact that I didn't get to watch Elf this year...even though I bought the wool before I found out about that...

So anyway, when I did finally get home, when I DIDN'T finally watch Elf, I went a-searchin' for my graphics tablet, as made famous by such timeless blogs as "The One About John Travolta Being a Catfish" and "I found a Photograph of Mr Whitehairblackbeard". Couldn't bloody well find it, could I? No I could not. In fairness, I didn't look all that hard - I was brushing my teeth at the time and thinking about all the antelopes who were dying, but it should have been in a fairly obvious place. I *think* I left it on a chair. But I can't be sure. If anyone has seen it, please return it to me immediately. It is greyish-black; charcoal you might say, and it has a pen of the same colour with a little white tip - that's what you do the drawings with.

Needless to say, I've been quite distressed. To calm myself down, I sat for one whole hour this evening, obsessively taking my laptop to bits and cleaning away all the dust with a paint brush.

And now I've upset myself even further looking at the above photograph of me that was taken just minutes ago. I'd better go and eat a novelty biscuit quickly to reverse the effect.

*Anyone reading this clearly falls into the bracket of "actually interesting". Please discount yourselves from this droplet of sarcasm that was added to further the horrible, cynical persona I'm crafting for myself upon the internet. Obviously I'm really nice and genuine in real life, just like every other person who writes a blog to make themselves feel better about the fact that their life is an endless drag from one moment to the next.

Friday, 9 December 2011

In the Eye of the Pickle

I don't know if you've noticed, but the quality of my drawings has been slightly less wonderful than usual. That's because I forgot to bring my graphics tab to Edinburgh. What a bummer. However, as of Monday, we shall be reunited. It will feel so good. Peaches & Herb will probably chronicle our reunion in a timeless love song.

Anyway, it turns out this is an avoidance blog. I have a portfolio of work due on the 15th, but since I'm going home on Monday, which is before the 15th, I need to get it done by Monday. And it last night became apparent to me that I hate almost everything I've written so far this year. So I'm in a pickle and that's no help at all, because carving out a six foot pickle to lie in and think about the poetry I haven't written is completely counter productive.

And I have a cold. It's a bad cold. Whenever I move my eyes, it would appear I'm moving backwards through time and that's a painful experience I can tell you because my eyes are already sore from all the staring at my crummy poems I've been doing.

And now to sew the parts of this apparently disjointed discourse together:

You see, I was talking about how bad my drawings have been at the beginning and now I've posted an example. Here we see me, inside a giant pickle, looking a lot like one of the creatures that stalk the sets of Dr Who, WHICH IS ABOUT TIME TRAVEL! And on that picture the woes of my failing health have been noted, and they're all reasons why my poetry apparently sucks.

So to conclude, I really need to stop wasting time writing pointless blogs and do some work. I'm glad we figured that out together, world! Until next time!