Saturday, 24 May 2014

I Know, I Know, I Suck

Yes, yes, calm your pants, I know I've had no posts forEVS. Big soz.

This is also going to be a dickish short post. Again, soz.

I've just not been very happy at the moment. Don't worry, I'm not using the whole 'OMGEEEEE I'M SO DEPRESSED' excuse when I'm not depressed in any way. Is it just me that gets annoyed when someone uses the word 'depressed' when really they're just sad? Depression is an illness; you're just feeling shit.

Anyhoo, I don't know what's up with me but I know that I'm just feeling a bit poo.

Mostly the fact that I'm crying for no reason - that's a main alert to me that I'm feeling crap. I'm not the type to cry unless it's at a book or film in which case I will cry so much that it's verging on absolutely terrifying.

Basically, in The TGI Era, I was the happiest I've ever been. Genuinely, properly happy. Whether it was down to TGI, I don't know. I hope not.

But now everything feels a bit rubbish. I know I don't have anything to complain about as I'm living the cushy arts student life. I mean it, I have 2 weeks between now and my first and only exam. For which I really just have to read some books.

And to make you hate me even more, I've decided to go to Paris. On Monday. Yes, I woke up this morning and thought, I want to go to Paris. So I booked a flight and will be going on Monday. To Paris. On Monday. Paris. Monday. I know.

I'm such a dick student.

Everyone hates me because of this but hey, I've got enough money from working my arse off last year and I've got some free time. Because I'm a terrible student who only starts studying about 2 days before an exam.

And I need to just step away from my life for a bit. So I'm running away to Paris for a few days. I hate myself for how horribly middle class I am. Oh if I only I were the STRONG INDEPENDENT WOMAN WHO DON'T NEED NO MAN that I've always wished I was.

To be fair though, I'm proving that I don't need no man to take me off on a romantic Parisian getaway. I shall romance myself thank you very much (oo-er).

As I've been saying to people, I'm just like Colin Firth in Mamma Mia...

Spontaneous. Not called Harry. Spontaneous. Full of spontaneity.

I quite like this new spontaneous side of me that's appearing. It's just like when I spontaneously decided to get a tattoo a few months ago. Nancy 2 years ago would be horrified at what I was doing - having no plans and not knowing what I want to do.

I am floating in an ocean of possibilities and spontaneity. Oooh how metaphoric of me.

Also look at how many times I've mentioned spontaneity and being spontaneous. They're not even looking like words now. You'd have thought I'd have learned how to spell them after writing them so many times. Nope. I love me some autocorrect.

Au revoir mes cheries.


Friday, 9 May 2014

I'm An Idiot

Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, allow me to impart some knowledge at your brains.

People are fucktards.

People can also be complete idiots and not realise that other people are fucktards.

Here is my helpful guide to identifying fucktards so you don't become the idiot that doesn't realise the state of the aforementioned fucktardary:

Step 1: Are they male?
Step 2: Are they 6'4?
Step 3: Are they a rugby player?
Step 4: Did they attend a private school?
Step 5: Was the private school in Edinburgh?
Step 6: Are they a giant idiot?

If you answered yes to all of those, you are probably me.

Yep, tis true. It has finally occurred to me that TGI is an arse. I know I realised that about 2 posts ago. But this time it's fo realz yo.

Allow me to expand through the medium of screenshot:

Now if, like me, you are not well versed in the slang terms used by the youth of today, and have no idea what 'sket' means, allow me to use Urban Dictionary to elaborate:


I am slightly ashamed to admit this but when he called me that: I cried. Which may have been the result of overtiredness and also the fact I'd just finished bawling my eyes out at The Fault in Our Stars but the fact remains that a boy made me cry. And that's just not on.

So the moral of this little post is not to let people be fucktards to you. Because everybody deserves more than that. 

People can be really horrible and it's hard to spot someone who will hurt you - you may not find out until it's too late. But just remember that there are wonderful, lovely, decent people in the world.

Wonderful, lovely, decent people who will watch High School Musical with you for a first date and geek out about Harry Potter.

So if you'll excuse me...


Yes, that title is a Starkid reference. Yes you may go and find it in this musical here:

To make it even more exciting and adventurous, I'm not even going to tell you which part it's from. Gasp!

Edit: My laptop died on me before I could finish this so the title is not relevant at all since it is now Friday. A very nice smelling man from PC World fixed it for me, thank you for your concern.

Now, do you all remember Troy, my gorgeous sunshines? Of course you do, he was introduced in my last post, Jesus Christ, what have you all been doing with your lives if you've not had time to read my very important posts? WELL...

You  may recall that I slept over at his on Friday night after being extrêmement drunk. If you don't remember that just go look at the post underneath. Good god, must I do everything for you?

I got a message from him on the Facebook on Saturday morning saying he'd got my phone and my necklace. Considering I thought I'd lost my phone, this was really rather wonderful news. Also it's a bitchin' necklace. All gold 'n' shit. 

I realise I cannot get away with saying 'bitchin'' and using an abbreviated form of 'and'. Mainly because I put in apostrophes. I am fully aware that it is incredible uncool. I shall desist.

Right. Troy.

So I went back over to his to reclaim said necklace and phone but didn't stay long due to the fact that my friend and I had just ordered Domino's. HOT. DAMN. That pizza was so good. If we weren't poor students, we'd make it a daily meal. If I had to give up all my worldly possessions just for that pizza, I would. Fuck knows what it was though, can't for the life of me remember.

Bloody hell, you can tell I'm tired, can't you? It's 2am right now and I have a lecture in 7 hours. So imma just.. Not go to that methinks. It's just Visual Culture anyway. I mean, what even is that?



*High School Musical. God.

I exchanged a couple of messages with him but nothing interesting enough to be worth mentioning here.

WAIT! Have a pug! I can tell I'm starting to bore you with my tangents:

Gif  c/o of this Buzzfeed post. I swear, I have all their pug related posts bookmarked. Be prepared for many a pug on this blog.

Edit: As I said, it is now Friday and more shit has happened. I can't quite remember what I was going to tell you here so am just going to continue in a similar vein. #bestbloggerever. God, I hate hashtags.

Right, I'm pretty sure that all I was going to say was that Troy asked me out.

No big deal, right?


Would you like to know why it was a big deal? Of course you would.

This is a big ass deal parce que* he is also a Harry Potter nerd.

*French for 'because'. I'm so fucking cultured.

I don't think you're all understanding the magnitude of this discovery. He loves Harry Potter. He has a giant cardboard poster of the first film. He loves Harry Potter. I don't care about anything else.

So he's coming round tomorrow night - or I'll go to his - and I'm getting him to watch High School Musical.

Guys, I think I've found The One.

P.S: Another post coming later tonight because I fear I have highly disappointed with this one.

Tuesday, 6 May 2014


YOU GUYS!!!!!!!! I DID A THING!!!!

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You know, like it says on the link. THE LINK THAT I MADE POSSIBLE(ish)!

I'm putting my other post on hold until later today. I'm going to have to go sit down somewhere for a bit and try and calm the fuck down.


Sunday, 4 May 2014

Good God! A Gentleman!

Well, well, well little warriors. Have I got a story for you.

Spoiler: I do.

So, on Friday night, I got horrifically drunk. That's nothing new, most of my stories start with some sort of variation of that sentence. This Friday though, I was unbelievably drunk. I worked it out the next day that it was because I had taken paracetamol and ibuprofen before I started drinking - don't do that, kids.

Basically, I was so drunk that a good 7 or so hours from that night are completely missing from my brain. No idea what happened, not sure I want to know.

Anyway, long story short (this isn't even the story I was going to tell you), I woke up in bed with a guy.

He was the friend of one of my fabulous friends that I was going out with; let's call him Troy. Such a fucking gentleman, goodness me. I vaguely remember kissing Troy in 'da club' as the youngsters call it these days. Then I remember waking up next to him in his flat.

And he had been a perfect gentleman. Despite a few hickeys (I hate that word), I was very much unscarred. He had taken me home on the bus and taken me back to his only because I thought I had lost my keys. I also thought I had lost my phone and had definitely lost my blazer. Ragepants about that.

What's more, he had given me a shirt to wear in bed so I didn't have to stay in the top I'd worn out. When I left, he also gave me a hoodie to wear back because I had no jacket since I lost my blazer. This was extremely useful as it meant I wasn't freezing my tits off walking back to mine, I didn't look like I was wearing anything incredibly slutty and I didn't look like I was doing a walk of shame. It looked like I had merely stayed over at my boyfriend's and had borrowed his hoodie to walk back.

So yes, a living breathing gentleman. Take note of this boys and girls; they do still exist.

Maybe chivalry isn't dead after all...?


Present example number two: TGI.

Yep, look who's back, back, back...

Last night was weird.

It was about 1am and I was happily sitting on my bed reading The Fault in Our Stars when I got a text from TGI asking if I was still up. I kinda thought, eh why not let him come round. I mean, it'd been a week or so since I last saw him (8 days actually as he informed me. He'd been counting. Good lord.)

So he came round - bearing in mind I was completely sober and he had been chucked out of 'da club' for being too drunk/being an arse. And it was actually really fun. He was like an over excited little puppy. I mean, it was funny while it lasted but I was ridiculously tired and all that energy got slightly grating.

But we were lying in bed when all of a sudden he goes, 'we should go to the beach'. And I was like, 'sure let's go to the beach'. So we went to the beach.

And you know what? It wasn't half bad.

I mean, it was really bizarre that he'd suggested it, I don't know what had gotten into him. But yeah, we walked to the beach holding hands, got freaked out by statues and dolls in people's windows, chased each other on the beach and then he was a dick and put sand down my top and buried my shoes so I hit him.

But despite all these seemingly rom com movie montage string of events, it just didn't feel right. I didn't feel like I was with someone I liked. It was more like wondering why on Earth this guy, who was just my fuck buddy, wanted to go to the beach with me.

Then he got jealous.

He got jealous when he thought I'd had sex with Troy. Then he got even more jealous when I mentioned that I'd just slept over there.

And then he pretty much said: 'although, to be fair, I suppose it's not right for me to fuck other people whilst wanting you to only sleep with me exclusively.'

Then I realised he's an arse. And I don't want to be with someone who thinks of me like that. I deserve more. I deserve better than to be someone's bit on the side, someone's second best. Although yes, the feeling was mutual to begin with, now it's gotten to the stage of beach walking and not just sex, I don't even know what the feeling is.

So I have decided that I'm not going to see him again. But I'm going to wait until he texts or calls me when he's in town.Then I shall tell him in no uncertain terms that I do not want to play any more. And that I deserve someone who cares about me.

Because dammit, we all do.