Pretty Girls

Spend ages on their hair, ages on their clothes, ages on getting it just perfect.
I spend ages procrastinating over what I can write in this blog to make it even one hundredth as good as hyperbole and a half.
I gave up very quickly.
When my blog realizes I am reading that beautiful cartoon world it shrivels up- feeling truly hopeless and inferior- as it should.



On an entirely different note...
I still fail to understand how God (as a higher being and such) was sitting there doing all his creating, us in the form of himself and all that. Then oh... wait... it's such a masterpiece... those legs, that tiny body... THAT BLOOD SUCKING APPARATUS.
Oh hang on...

WHY?
WHY?
WHY?

Mosquito's are the worse thing ever, they have no purpose other than to cause pain.
"Oh, oh they have to drink blood otherwise they die mer mer mer circle of life"
Shut the hell up.
Who cares if they die?
I want them to in fact.
One of my bites has decided to swell up so now I literally have a kankle (basically).
Yeh, got me good didn't you, you little BASTAD.

Accidental Thong.

I have been hit by the curse of the accidental thong once again.

Innocently buying a matching set of underwear (nothing makes me happier- except when my underwear matched my skirt the other day- I cried a little) only to find that in the confusion and excitement I have bought a thong...

Thing is:

I need them to prevent vpl in jeggings ANYWAYSSS so in your face accidental thong.

Some of you may have noticed my unforgivable profile picture, the one where there is more curtain than fringe going on and more ugly than face.

WELL.

That picture can be found in shakeshed in Bromley my friends... Some may think this unfortunate but any picture of my that is pinned up in a Milkshake shop is definitely going to be the priority of my life.

I think they might change it next week but at least there is proof that it happened.

None of this is remotely interesting.

I have actually done many things since my last little go in here, but I have to go to work in one minute and I have wasted my time rambling as per usual.

So you just enjoy this.

I failed at the picture thing.

In terms of originality the gestures had a similar effect to that of the reject card in an overplayed deck; one which had been handled so often that a torn off top, right hand corner made the intended hidden overleaf utterly predictable.

I just drank like a litre of peach squash.

I really love peach squash.

But I do look like a preggo with my bloated stomach.

And I will need to pee so harshly very soon.

Scherenschnitte

The recent beginning (yesterday) of my week-long facebook strike has lead to me reading various 'next blog' blogs on here for the sake of something to fill spare time with and honestly for the sake of logging into something.

I found this woman who had a kind of crafts blog I guess?

And she had made these really simple black paper cut out's of like a bird and a woman lifting a kid then layered them over like music sheets and I was like actually they are really something.

So I read into it and the general technique is called 'Scherenschnitte'. My love of hilarious German words only deepened my love for this and I actually made one but my scanner is ballsing up (probably for the best... I think I should stick to the stick men actually).

But yeh, that is what that is.

The german word for 'Elbow' is 'Elbowgen'- I don't think you spell it like that but still.

The facebook strike isn't (although it should be) a comment on their constant inability to create a chat that works but is only really because I was getting a bit sick of it. It is becoming less of a convenient communication option and more of an excuse to do nothing and waste my time looking at things that actually I'm not even interested in; also which occasionally make me kind of angry because people I know act like they are someone completely different.

Rant.

Next time I will post a picture

I have outdone myself in boring :)

XX

Oh God, am I... Happy?

It has been a good long while since I have written in this

And as I was thinking about it prior to writing what I assumed would be one of those really forced pieces of blog- where I write about things I have done that aren't really remotely interesting- I considered this; maybe I am happy?

I have always been the kind of person to write down my frustrations and it is getting to the point now when either:

- I must have rinsed them all.

- Or maybe these things have become too trivial to get upset over when I hold them up against the things that are going okay; things level out too much these days for me to be able to say it's all bad.

And I am VERY good at making things seem bad...

On an entirely separate note I dreamt that my room was full of copper coins and in my dream I was going (in my head) 'Man, I am going to take these fuckers to sainsburys and go to TOWN'.

Gutted?

Yes.

I had another dream the other day when like 5 boys from my sixth form were dressed up as a boyband doing a really dramatic performance- opening sequence to hollyoaks-esque.

A little more gutted when it became apparent this hadn't happened I have to admit.

As a last little note;

I was watching Russell Howard with that lovely boy and it struck me like a slap in the face.

Russell Howard is the perfect man.