Wednesday, 28 October 2009
Tuesday, 27 October 2009
My god I feel like a right mingerling this morning, I know why I drink beer not wine :(
Anyway, enough of that whinging, my own fault after all.
Last night, whilst consuming a mediocre (by our standards) quantity of wine, Jo and I got to reflecting...as we often do...on our state of singleness. It's a constant source of confusion to us, I mean....why? Lovely young ladies such as ourselves! I thought I'd jot down a few thoughts.
Here is a list of things we think will make men love us:
- Stalking them through every technological medium possible. It's not enough unless you're friends with them on facebook, Myspace, Bebo and Hi5. You must be following them on Twitter and have managed to convince THEM to follow YOU on Twitter. Their webpage/blog must be in your internet history, their mobile number on your phone...for those ill-advised late night embarrassments. Their call history MUST evidence a series of 'missed calls', and they must have at least one text you sent them 'accidentally'. On MSN you must contact them within 5 seconds of their logging on.
- You must at all times be displaying an inordinate amount of cat-fuzz upon your person. It shows you are an animal lover and that your immune system is STRONG thereby making you a favourable bearer of children.
- You must at every opportunity demonstrate your magnificent capacity for beer. There is nothing a man likes more than a woman who can sink 5 pints without blinking and then stagger to the toilet, rebounding off the walls less than four times in total.
- Every conversation must have a reference to sex in it, just so that the men-folk know you're a little bit desperate and well up for it. Men are slightly dim and so if they don't get the hint, start accompanying said references with seductive winks. This works up until about pint No.4 when you lose your sense of coordination and start to resemble a horny mole, emerging, blinking into the sunlight.
- You must eat Domino's at least once a week so there's always that intriguing fug of garlic around you. Plus it keeps the vampires away.
Once we have said man, these are the things we must do to keep him:
- Text, call, msn and email constantly. Start a fun poking war on Facebook.
- Go through his phone and delete all his female friends phone numbers. You must be stealthy, start with the ones you don't think he'll miss and work from there. Make sure you get the ones he's slept with....which is clearly all of them.
- Introduce yourself to his mother, eventually you'll be such firm friends that you can go round and have tea together and wait for him to come home from work. Men love this.
- Get him to make friends with your cat, even if he doesn't love you, he'll be heart-broken at having to leave the animal.
- Start taking things from his house and bringing them to yours. It's not thieving, it's nesting, and it'll make him feel wonderfully at home in YOUR home. And then you'll get married.
I could go on, but I shan't, I don't want to give away all my tricks now do I??!!
Can anyone hazard a guess as to why Becki and Jo are still single? I'm not sure what we're doing wrong.
Now.....where's that cat?
Monday, 26 October 2009
Friday, 23 October 2009
Thursday, 22 October 2009
Wednesday, 21 October 2009
My trolley, mine
My good friend the compressor
Tuesday, 20 October 2009
I sometimes find myself panicking slightly in Squirrels when it's a nice day and there are hundreds of visitors, the monkeys are all out and Bounty is throwing his weight around like a steroid junkie. I have first hand experience of how nasty minkies can be, I have scars!! SCARS!! So when silly people are wandering around poking their hands and cameras directly into the face of our testosterone-fuelled alpha-male, something inside me snaps.
For those of you who may never have come across a Vervet monkey, they are intriguing little creatures. They're quite closely related to baboons, but smaller. They do, however, possess the characteristic canines...nasty weapons. They're a light grey colour, with dark detail around their faces. One of the most striking things about them is their bright blue bellies, and for the boys, bright blue balls. I have no idea what evolutionary function this could possibly serve....but they have it! When vervets are angry with you they raise their eyebrows to stretch the skin across their forehead so you get this flash if evil eyes and white eyelids...it's a bit freaky and I lost count of the times I broke off eye contact and put my hand in front of a baby monkeys face to distract it!
The Foundation was a very cool place to work, we lived in 'Tent Village' where there was no electricity and half the tent doors were done up with velcro to stop the nasties getting in, the zips had broken along time ago. One night I must have failed in my anxious fumblings to hermetically seal my tent, as I woke up with a rather large Wolfie laying next to me. There was no need to panic, Wolfie was just a rather large and over-excitable dog. Though he was a horny little bastard, one can only wonder what he'd been up to before I awoke *suspicious*. Showers were 1 per day, and cold. We had no water supply, so once or twice a day, some guys from the Foundation had to drive down to a local farm and fill a massive tank with water for our daily showers.
Bekkie - :D She was lovely and gentle. She'd stuff her face like a pig, and one day I realised why. The more dominant individuals would grab her head and pull it back, then fish out anything she had stored in her cheek pouches! Rudeness!
- Being out in the main enclosure when a dust storm whipped through and all of a sudden I had 11 baby's sitting on my lap staring at me in abject terror.
- Zorro (slightly mad adolescent vervet) sticking an ice cream tub on his head and running around the chicken wire making a hell of a racket, just to grab my attention and make me laugh.
- Being in with the uber-babies and noticing a funny sensation around my feet. I looked down to find one of them contentedly sucking on my toe. It was the cleanest it had been in a couple of weeks.
- Katie (my tent-mate) and I pissing ourselves laughing after she'd sent the dogs in to join me on the Eco-Toilet. It was pitch dark and I heard some strange scuffling sounds coming from the corner, I switched my torch on to find 4 dogs sitting round me in a semicircle whist I was squatted on this damn toilet with my knees around my ears.
- Bekkie falling asleep on my lap and sleepily rubbing her eyes when she woke up..then getting hiccups from drinking her milk too fast.
- Being in Goliath when Vic walked past, he was a big guy, and the babies didn't like men for some reason. He shouted 'BOO!!' through the bars, and 2 babies simultaneously shat down my shoulders. Worse...they'd been eating beetroot.
Now I've started thinking of them there are so many, I won't share them all, you'll be completely bored.
Suffice to say, my experience at the Foundation was an amazing one, it was my first real time away from home completely by myself, I met some incredible people, including Arthur Hunt, one of the founders, a true eccentric, and the monkeys, despite being vicious little toe-rags, were fabulous. I'd like to go back one day and see how the little fellas are doing.
If you want to know more about the foundation and how you can volunteer then check out the VMF website :)
RIP Arthur, no one wore a tie quite like you did, you're sorely missed xx
Monday, 19 October 2009
This was all at Lorraines birthday party, she invited me on Thursday having suddenly realised was a Northernite. I met Lol through some friends in college. It was a rather lovely cocktail bar called the Albert and Pearl in Islington. Jo and I turned up just before 9pm and it was strange....and refreshing.....to be surrounded by people who were pretty blotto (not Lol's mates I hasten to add)...I don't know what time they'd started, and whether the A&P has a happy hour, but if they do then these guys had been taking full advantage. One young lady got up from outside to go back in and just staggered around and fell to her knees. There was a distinct thudding sound, she seemed relatively ok, but I bet she had some nasty bruises and some trouble walking when the alcohol-induced anaesthetic-fug wore off the next day. Her mate made a gallant attempt at preserving her integrity by yelling 'that's what you get for waering stupid shoes!'.....no.....she can't hold herself upright my dear.
As it was, a couple of blokes did come over, one clearly off his tits...and he wasn't a nice drunk, he was an obnoxious one! At one point he grabbed a hairband of mine and yelled 'Stick your finger out!' When I hesitated he yelled again 'stick your fucking finger out!!!'. At which point I told him just how lovely and charming he was. I eventually relented and stuck my finger out, whereupon he proceeded to try some kind of trick where the hairband flicks from my finger to his. It was less than impressive. The other bloke was nicer, and didn't seem quite so drunk, until he suddenly turned white as a sheet and started gulping and looking down in the manner of someone who expects to vomit in the immediate future.
Thursday, 15 October 2009
Wednesday, 14 October 2009
When you are sad,
I will get you drunk and help you plot revenge against the evil bastard who made you sad.
When you are blue...,
I'll try and dislodge whatever is choking you.
When you smile....,
I'll know you finally got laid.
When you are scared,....
I'll take the piss about it every chance I get.
When you are worried,....
I'll tell you horrible stories about how much worse it could be and to quit whining
When you are confused,....
I will use little words to explain it to your dumb ass
When you are sick,...
Stay the hell away from me until you're well again.
I don't want whatever you have.
When you fall,...
I will point and laugh at you
This reminds me of you Jo! And the choking bit, St John Ambulance....so apt!
I love that we spew each others advice right back at each other when the tables of our lives turn, we're both as psycho as each other at the end of the day. I'm glad I've found my partner in crime!! You're my favourite and I loves loves loves you!
One day we'll listen to each other, that day can't be too far off....can it??
Thanks for being the best :o) xxx
'A friend is one who knows us, but loves us anyway' Jerome Cummings
Too bloody true!
Friday, 9 October 2009
'Me too! Enjoy the rest of your day at work, I shall be building a fort and masturbating for most of the morning! See you later xx'
I offered him anonymity, but he declined, 'there is no shame in building a fort'
Thursday, 8 October 2009
The next thing I knew he was swearing and ranting at his savoury meal, where was the butter?? Where was it? It's a spiel I've heard a few times, but this time, oh.....this time he was writing a strongly worded email, oh yes. The Columbus group who own the Upper Crust chain were getting the brunt of pent-up sandwich frustration:
Dear Compass Group,
I am moved to contact you having just bought a cheddar and tomato baguette from the Upper Crust outlet in the UCL (University College London) canteen. The statement on your webpage says it all: "No additional butter or spread is added - just fresh....". My question is: Why is no butter or spread added? This seems to be something of a commonplace approach to sandwich making in some of the "cheaper" outlets around. Why on earth would anyone other than serial dieters want a sandwich without a bit of butter?
As a complete amateur who has made himself a sandwich or two in his time, let me explain. A bit of butter spread on the bread serves at least two important functions: 1) It provides a bit of lubrication to help the otherwise dry, rough bread down. 2) It helps prevent the water in the tomato soaking into the bread turning it into a doughy mush. 3) (yes, I though of another!) It adds a bit of welcome extra flavour. If I could let every sandwich bar know how I feel I would, but I have to start somewhere. There, rant over!
Actually, the baguette wasn't that bad. But for the sake of a pen'orth of butter and a few seconds effort, it could have been so much better. Thanks for your time.
Loving it....take that Columbus Group!
Wednesday, 7 October 2009
Jobie has been in her flat in the Stow for seven or eight years now and I think she's got to the point where she wants to upgrade, move onto something new and a bit exciting. I'm in a situation where, as I'm travelling for 3 months next year, I'll be moving back in with the folks before I leave and living there for as long as necessary when I get back. As I'm sure I've said before in a previous post, I love my parents to bits, but this won't last long if I have to move in for an extended period of time.
As such, Ogs and Sprogs find themselves in something which could turn out to be a win win situation! If Jobie finds a nice little 2-bed place (lovenest-place-lovenest) then I can rent the second bedroom and Jobie cuts her costs! Jo has more money, I don't have to harrass my mother and father to within an inch of their sanity.....and we both get to live with our best mate!
Of course there are the obvious hurdles. I turned to Jo the other day with a concerned look on my face and asked:
'But Jo.....what about when one of us gets married??'
At which point we creased up in laughter......ok, maybe that's not such a massive hurdle after all.
We have already agreed on a few House Rules:
1) In order to maintain friendship, Ogs and Sprogs need a dishwasher. One loads ones own washing up into the dishwasher and when it is full, dishwasher goes on. Under NO circumstances must one put dirty washing up into a dishwasher full of clean crockery due to laziness.
2) When we get chikinz, they will look like this:
Soz Ogs, I know it's not the same one...I couldn't find the pikture!
3) Becki's shit stays in Becki's room. I'm not referring to actual, you know, faeces, there is a time and a place for that. I shall be living in Og's house, no matter how I might like to dress it up to potential man-shapes, and therefore I shall do my utmost to refrain from creating a front-room reminiscent of a Becki-themed psychotic episode. I shall not soil my own room, nor set fire to anything....but there is a chance it shall be a tad.....unkempt. I shall sleep naked and without bedcovers, sans routine, in order to prevent Jo peeking in on the untidyness too frequently. It's for her own good.4) Men......we haven't quite decided what will happen here, though I suspect that if I think he is no good for her I shall glare at him over breakfast and then accidentally spear his face with a screwdriver whilst doing some 'DIY'. I'm sure Jo is not as cruel and would simply cover him in jam and let Mornington love him to death.
Whatever happens, I'm sure we won't remain single for long...............*cough*
5) No farting if we're expecting company within the hour, no missing the toilet.
I shall post up new rules as and when we come up with them.
Criteria for our lovenest originally included a pony paddock and underground dungeon, however, we were disappointed that most properties seemed only to offer one or the other....or neither.....never both. You can't have a pony paddock without the dungeon, it's just not right.
So, we decided to settle for a garden and a shed, where we shall hold captive unsuspecting victims. Feeding them up until they're too obese to move unaided, at which point we'll take them out for a roll around the garden. Yes, we HAVE actually discussed all this, it's a plan Batpeople.
SO, to take us back to the beginning, the reason Jo and I were scrubbing our hands raw last night is because an Estate Agent was coming to value the flat tonight.....
AND THE BASTARD HASN'T TURNED UP!!
I frigging hate estate agents.....what tossers
Now I've got that out of my system I need to rush off and do my hair.....make the bed and get an early night ready for a horrendously early morning with Toast Masters (more about that tomorrow I expect)
Image cred: lolhome.com