This is a very true point which is why this weeks .... (Let's call it a rant!) is dedicated to my friend Steph.
Now those of you out there who feel like you loose your friends when you get in a relationship, it is not because we are jealous of your relationship. It's because you are one of those people who has everything fall into your lap and even though you may be our oldest friend we FUDGING HATE YOU!!!
It's incredible the amount of shit some people have to deal with in their lives and yet others just seem to fly through life getting everything they want. This is mine and Stephs question of the day: What makes you so fudging special?
I would like to point out that no matter how much I may be a cynical singleton, this is NOT just about the whole relationship thing. It's everything. It's amazing how much shit me and Steph can put up with in an average day whilst watching our friends and work colleagues (rarely does any one ever fulfil both these titles!) skip happily along missing the dog shit I may have vindictively smeared in front of their feet.
There has to be a reason why others are skipping along happily whilst the shit seems to have smeared across my face making me live in constant fear of ever opening my mouth. Perhaps it's Karma.
Now if Karma is real then between me and Steph we must have done some nasty shit. Steph has decided that she must have been Genghis Khan. Me? I think I may have been Marie Antoinette. As life has slowly removed all the good things in life. It's got to the point where a Findus lasagne seems like luxury! I mean seriously you're getting two meats for the price of one! Then there's the fact that this morning I broke the zip on my trousers proving that I should not be allowed to eat cake. The problem is if this is Karma for my former life of laughing at the poor and general acceptance of the bourgeois capitalist society ( at least everyone knew their place), then it's doing nothing to help me move on from this state. As life slowly tries to 'teach me a lesson' I get more and more pissed off to the point that I decide 'Fudge it' and start to bite back with aggression aimed at others happiness and my keen ability to destroy the lives of others. It's really a vicious circle. Eventually me and Steph will move slowly down the evolutionary ladder until we become crabs. Not the 'sing to mermaids' crabs the 'I'm surrounded by pussies and arseholes' kind. Although right now I feel this would mean we had moved across the ladder not down it! The good thing is there's not much wrong doing you can do as a crab so maybe we'll move up to the level of cockroach; indestructible and able to scare others. With that kind of power I give us two seconds before we're down graded to crabs again!
So yes whilst I may be single, listen to unappreciative students all day and watch the further saddening face of my bank account I do have friends, and at least that means I have someone to be a crab with.
Thursday, 28 February 2013
Monday, 25 February 2013
'You're so lucky to be single, you can just sleep with whoever you like'
Oh the demon that is alcohol. Turning fatties into curvy and men who look like they were made from the slim that builds on stagnant water into a glistening bottle of Evian. There's nothing quite like waking up in the morning and feeling like no amount of showering will make you clean, feeling like you want to drill into your brain to where your memories are stored and destroy every last one, send your vagina into therapy, remove all your finger nails just in case there are flakes of him left under there!
Even the good ones come with awkwardness I mean its one thing to wake in the morning and feel like you may have had sex with a sea monster, its another when a guy removes his boxers to reveal he really does have a sea monster! Always good to look down thinking 'holy fudge I think it's staring at me'! The worry that when it starts spitting you might be blown across the room in white fury. I unfortunately encountered this at the age of 17, it was quite the discovery to find that my boyfriends penis was bigger than my leg. It was such as shock my friends starting googling to find out if a man can skewer your uterus..... they can't! I'm sure there are plenty of girls out there thinking 'what's she complaining about?' Well I ask these women; Do you actually like giving men a blow job?...No? Well then why would you want to feel like he's in your throat when you're just having sex!
Whilst you may be able to escape the spitting sea monster there is always the consideration of how to remove said man. Sense now dictates that we should always go back to our own place to avoid being turned into a skin suit or being forced into strange acts that see us becoming the new actress in three girls one cup! However whilst most men are happy to get what they need others do need a little coaxing out of the door. For example when they don't realise how terrible they are at sex and look at you with an eye that makes you want to vomit (Men shouldn't try to be sexy, they just shouldn't). Now we all know that I have a major mental illness in which the devil on my shoulder grabbed a rope a long time ago and my angel just hangs limp and lifeless down my back somewhere. Well.... All I'm going to say is, once again the hammer next to your bed can be used not just for beating evil clowns hiding in your wardrobe, and talking through your teddy is childlike and his face is entertaining as fudge.
Friday, 15 February 2013
'Maybe you should just become a lesbian'
Well this has been recommended several times, as if I have a better chance of finding someone if I become part of a minority and try the same sex. That doesn't even make mathematical sense!
Whilst I have friends who are experts in muff diving it's never been a sport I was willing to take up. The whole idea of diving is enough to put me off for life. I may like forests but I hate caves, they're wet, dark with fuzzy moss on the walls, now why would I want to put my face in it and start licking the walls.
I guess I do like fish!
It's not just the sex its the fact that I would then have to spend more time with another female. I spend everyday with me and it's hell. I admire lesbians for the ability to stay in a relationship with another woman knowing that we are horrible horrible people. After years of repression our ability to silently plot and hold onto the tiniest wrong doing is ... well awesome! I'm not even sure if my own self esteem could handle it. I mean what if she was thinner than me, had bigger breasts and smaller thighs? I might as well glue cosmo to my face and have ice-cream and anti-depressants pumped into my veins.
At least with a guy no matter how hot he is I can be comforted that I will always look better naked. Let's face it the penis was a cruel trick played on man to teach him humility and for women's convenience of being able to physically pull it off when necessary. It's just not very pretty, if god moulded man in his own image then the devil found a way to fudge with it!
Whilst I have friends who are experts in muff diving it's never been a sport I was willing to take up. The whole idea of diving is enough to put me off for life. I may like forests but I hate caves, they're wet, dark with fuzzy moss on the walls, now why would I want to put my face in it and start licking the walls.
I guess I do like fish!
It's not just the sex its the fact that I would then have to spend more time with another female. I spend everyday with me and it's hell. I admire lesbians for the ability to stay in a relationship with another woman knowing that we are horrible horrible people. After years of repression our ability to silently plot and hold onto the tiniest wrong doing is ... well awesome! I'm not even sure if my own self esteem could handle it. I mean what if she was thinner than me, had bigger breasts and smaller thighs? I might as well glue cosmo to my face and have ice-cream and anti-depressants pumped into my veins.
At least with a guy no matter how hot he is I can be comforted that I will always look better naked. Let's face it the penis was a cruel trick played on man to teach him humility and for women's convenience of being able to physically pull it off when necessary. It's just not very pretty, if god moulded man in his own image then the devil found a way to fudge with it!
Friday, 8 February 2013
"I wish it could be like it was when we were teenagers..."
Ahh the teenage years, those wonderful days where being single was the norm and intimacy was holding hands on the way home from school. We quite often reminisce about these days and after spending time thinking about this I was almost ready to approach this subject on a positive front....... almost!
It seems that whilst we are ready to remember the ease of relationships in our teenage years, whether they worked out or ended in crying to your friends and spreading rumours around the school that he tried to use a Mars bar wrapper as a condom, we forget all the hideous things that go with being a teenager. Add to this the fact that I spend my days with teenagers and trying to teach them (and resisting the urge to give the failures a McDonalds application form instead of a report), I can be found to ponder both our teenage years and the teenagers of today.
Whilst I look back on my own teenage years and cringe at the ways I desperately tried to fit in, teenagers today seem to strive in the same way to be individual. This is in no doubt down to the rise of mental asylum escapee's turned popstars; such as Lady GaGa (so named because her music makes ones IQ drop to that of a 6 month old!). I adore the way the twisted mind of society works. See a hobo walking down the street in a crazy hat and Kermit the frog pyjamas and its 'call the men in the white coats'. However give him a microphone and put him on stage you have a positive role model encouraging children to express themselves. While I'm on this rant what does 'bluffin with my muffin' really mean? I have tried looking at my 'muffin' from several angles to see if its 'bluffin' anything, the opposite sex clearly understands what it is and what it does and as far as I know it holds no secrets..... that I know of. Don't get me wrong Lady GaGa is individual, mainly because she's so fudging mental. Teenagers idiotically try to be individual however miss the point by ALL of them trying to be individual in the exact same way!
The one thing that both this generation of teenagers and the generations previous have in common is grease. Whether its hair or face it's all disgusting, and when it comes to boys its only made worse by the questionable hygiene regimes. Unfortunately I was not spared this and suffered with the mini yellow panna
-cotta outbreaks else known as zits. It's one of life's cruelties that we are given a rush of hormones increasing face oils and yet no real defence-although that doesn't stop us trying. Around the time of my panna-cotta face stage my mother tried in vain to console me with tales from her teenage years. Within this pitiful insight into her own panna-cotta stage she revealed her 'questionable cure/stupid mistake': Popping them and then using perfume on them, whilst enduring the screaming agony of her own face. I'm pretty sure that this story was meant as a warning however it seemed to fall on deaf ears as the anxious teenage me quickly scanned my bedroom. Who was I kidding, I didn't own perfume I barely owned a brush. Impulse body spray however....... My mother has made me cry before but never quite like this!
The thing is they are disgusting and even if we have them we still cringe at other people with them. The worst of all: The lip zit. The ones just at the edge of the lip that becomes a ticking time bomb, a game of Russian roulette every time they eat. You are unable to avert your eyes as you watch wondering if the pressure they use to bite down into that greasy burger is enough to break the panna-cotta surface and create a creamy addition to the grease as they lick their lips. Possibly made worse when they are on the face of your loved one and you have to make the quick fire decision between handing them the impulse body spray (possibly hurting their feelings) or taking the risk of being the one to taste the panna-cotta.
Yes in the teenage years every love felt like it would last forever and attracting the opposite sex's attention was a case of passing a note in class but we were obviously all blind. Blind I tell you, BLIND!!!
It seems that whilst we are ready to remember the ease of relationships in our teenage years, whether they worked out or ended in crying to your friends and spreading rumours around the school that he tried to use a Mars bar wrapper as a condom, we forget all the hideous things that go with being a teenager. Add to this the fact that I spend my days with teenagers and trying to teach them (and resisting the urge to give the failures a McDonalds application form instead of a report), I can be found to ponder both our teenage years and the teenagers of today.
Whilst I look back on my own teenage years and cringe at the ways I desperately tried to fit in, teenagers today seem to strive in the same way to be individual. This is in no doubt down to the rise of mental asylum escapee's turned popstars; such as Lady GaGa (so named because her music makes ones IQ drop to that of a 6 month old!). I adore the way the twisted mind of society works. See a hobo walking down the street in a crazy hat and Kermit the frog pyjamas and its 'call the men in the white coats'. However give him a microphone and put him on stage you have a positive role model encouraging children to express themselves. While I'm on this rant what does 'bluffin with my muffin' really mean? I have tried looking at my 'muffin' from several angles to see if its 'bluffin' anything, the opposite sex clearly understands what it is and what it does and as far as I know it holds no secrets..... that I know of. Don't get me wrong Lady GaGa is individual, mainly because she's so fudging mental. Teenagers idiotically try to be individual however miss the point by ALL of them trying to be individual in the exact same way!
The one thing that both this generation of teenagers and the generations previous have in common is grease. Whether its hair or face it's all disgusting, and when it comes to boys its only made worse by the questionable hygiene regimes. Unfortunately I was not spared this and suffered with the mini yellow panna
-cotta outbreaks else known as zits. It's one of life's cruelties that we are given a rush of hormones increasing face oils and yet no real defence-although that doesn't stop us trying. Around the time of my panna-cotta face stage my mother tried in vain to console me with tales from her teenage years. Within this pitiful insight into her own panna-cotta stage she revealed her 'questionable cure/stupid mistake': Popping them and then using perfume on them, whilst enduring the screaming agony of her own face. I'm pretty sure that this story was meant as a warning however it seemed to fall on deaf ears as the anxious teenage me quickly scanned my bedroom. Who was I kidding, I didn't own perfume I barely owned a brush. Impulse body spray however....... My mother has made me cry before but never quite like this!
The thing is they are disgusting and even if we have them we still cringe at other people with them. The worst of all: The lip zit. The ones just at the edge of the lip that becomes a ticking time bomb, a game of Russian roulette every time they eat. You are unable to avert your eyes as you watch wondering if the pressure they use to bite down into that greasy burger is enough to break the panna-cotta surface and create a creamy addition to the grease as they lick their lips. Possibly made worse when they are on the face of your loved one and you have to make the quick fire decision between handing them the impulse body spray (possibly hurting their feelings) or taking the risk of being the one to taste the panna-cotta.
Yes in the teenage years every love felt like it would last forever and attracting the opposite sex's attention was a case of passing a note in class but we were obviously all blind. Blind I tell you, BLIND!!!
Friday, 1 February 2013
Everything happens for a reason
Then what the fudge is the guinea pig?! This is something said by people who lack control and brain cells- a very dangerous combination.
It's hard to find the reason behind my string of break-ups. I can only think of one; to perfect my dumping skills!
My failed relationships could be explained in many ways but I think it all comes down to the fact that we are all twats. There are 'romantic twats', 'scared twats' and 'I'm-so-mental-I'm-surprised-I-haven't-been-committed twats'. I personally am a 'I-get-bored-surprisingly-quickly twat', therefore have had to take on the duty of break-ups.
I'm not sure where the turning point was but at some point my conscience was drop kicked with a grenade in its mouth and my psychotic mind decided that break-ups were a time for shits and giggles. I'm sure many of us have come to the break-up decision and mentally hugged ourselves at the prospect of never faking an orgasm again or muttering 'It's an average size'. However when it comes to the actual break-up we become snivelling wrecks. Well, my brain decided 'fudge-it' and suddenly my heart temperature dropped to compete with my freezer.
At first the psychosis comforted itself with being honest; 'the fact that you don't know who Charles Dickens is means I have no respect for you and this is only confirmed by the fact that our conversations make my IQ want to strangle itself'. However eventually the disease developed into half truths; 'Your poor attempt at sex and inability to make me come has led me to become a lesbian'.
I should not be judged. It's a serious disease for which there is no cure. Besides you all wish you had said it! Besides life has taught me a very important lesson from the times that I have fought back against the disease:
When in doubt use the phrase 'Our relationship has two directions, breaking-up or murder- You decide', because when you do it the nice way a stalker is born- and they are just exhausting.
It's hard to find the reason behind my string of break-ups. I can only think of one; to perfect my dumping skills!
My failed relationships could be explained in many ways but I think it all comes down to the fact that we are all twats. There are 'romantic twats', 'scared twats' and 'I'm-so-mental-I'm-surprised-I-haven't-been-committed twats'. I personally am a 'I-get-bored-surprisingly-quickly twat', therefore have had to take on the duty of break-ups.
I'm not sure where the turning point was but at some point my conscience was drop kicked with a grenade in its mouth and my psychotic mind decided that break-ups were a time for shits and giggles. I'm sure many of us have come to the break-up decision and mentally hugged ourselves at the prospect of never faking an orgasm again or muttering 'It's an average size'. However when it comes to the actual break-up we become snivelling wrecks. Well, my brain decided 'fudge-it' and suddenly my heart temperature dropped to compete with my freezer.
At first the psychosis comforted itself with being honest; 'the fact that you don't know who Charles Dickens is means I have no respect for you and this is only confirmed by the fact that our conversations make my IQ want to strangle itself'. However eventually the disease developed into half truths; 'Your poor attempt at sex and inability to make me come has led me to become a lesbian'.
I should not be judged. It's a serious disease for which there is no cure. Besides you all wish you had said it! Besides life has taught me a very important lesson from the times that I have fought back against the disease:
When in doubt use the phrase 'Our relationship has two directions, breaking-up or murder- You decide', because when you do it the nice way a stalker is born- and they are just exhausting.
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