Okay it has been a while since I last posted and I promise you there is a reason for that. I have been thinking about the direction I want to take my blog so I decided I'm going to fill it with whatever comes to mind, which is excatly what I was doing before but different. These things will include short stories, speaking of which I am working on one now to be used later on the blog. Really, it doesn't make any sense but to be honest I do find it rather enjoyable to write. However, I do have a twisted sense of humour so others might not enjoy what I am writing as much as I do. So sit tight and wait fellow readers. It will be finished shortly.
Wednesday, 2 October 2013
The Pasty Battle
This is the story about the battle that changed the world. Well, it didn't really change the world but it changed mine so close enough. Before the battle, I didn't know that old ladies and Mexicans could be so vicious. Some old ladies could be grumpy but most are really nice and make delicious home-made biscuits and tell the boring stories that start with "back in the day." Mexicans are also normally non-threatening. Without them, we would not have the awesomeness of tacos! Old ladies and Mexicans are probably the most non-scary people that I would have thought of.
The fierce battle wasn't really a battle, it was a mere fight. But to be faced by three manic old ladies and two very angry Mexicans can really cause one to over exaggerate, therefore justifying the fact that it was a battle of epic proportions. What was the fight about you might ask? The fight was over a pasty. Yes folks, we fought over a pasty. Okay, so, I was hungry and you know when you're hungry and you go to the fridge right? And before your very eyes you find a feast fit for Satan himself and fist-pump, hit your hand on the roof of the fridge and swear at it for hurting before violently head-banging when the microwave beeps out to let you know that your food is hot and the smell invades your nostrils and you have a food-gasm when the first bite touches your tongue.
Unfortunately for me, there was no fist-pumping, no head-banging and no food-gasm. All there was were the deadly, icy daggers of "Holy shit who ate my leftovers" into the empty pit called "refrigerator". So, I went on a mighty quest to get food. I journeyed for a full five minutes to the little shop that sat on the corner of my street. I collapsed from lack of food and sheer laziness only ten centimetres from the door. It took all my strength and mental capacity to get back to my feet. Once I was steady, I charged in and yelled "I NEED SUSTENANCE!" Not really although that would have been awesome. What really happened was I walked over to the warm box thingy that I have never bothered to learn the name of and browsed their selection of sausage rolls, dagwood dogs and steak pies. That was when I saw it. It was beautiful!
The pasty was the tastiest looking item in the hot-keep-it-warm-box-thingamagig. The pasty was cooked to golden brown perfection that would crumble when you took one bite and I was sure that the filling was extremely delicious. My mouth began to water as I imagined eating the pasty. That was when I realised that I wasn't alone. I turned slowly and there they were, the old ladies and the Mexicans. The old ladies looked small and fragile and had warm smiles on their faces. They all carried yellow handbags and wore black dresses with floral print. Two old ladies had tightly permed white hair but the third old lady, the rebel she was, had locks of purple hair. I will call one old lady Scarf, because she had the coolest scarf ever created. I would honestly murder pixies and eat purple monkeys just to be able to touch that beast of a scarf. The second shall be called Pinky, because of the sheer fact that she was wearing way too much blush. And the rebel old lady, I'll just call her Rebel.
Now, the Mexicans. One of them looked exactly like Luigi which made no sense, since Luigi was Italian and this man was clearly Mexican. I was tempted to ask him if he knew where Mario was and if he had figured out that Princess Peach was sleeping with Bowser but realised that was inappropriate and would be awkward if he knew the answer. The other shall be called Not-Mario, obviously because he didn't look like Mario, leaving Luigi without his shorter ass-kicking brother. Anyway, all of them were staring at the pasty. I smirked because I was first in line; therefore the pasty was surely mine. I turned to order it right away when I was attacked from behind. I stumbled and hit my head on the hot-keep-it-warm box-thingy. I didn't know what to do.
"THAT PASTY IS MINE!" Screamed Not-Mario as he launched himself at me a second time. He scratched my back until he ripped the fibres of my shirt and drew blood. I can't recall when the others joined the fight. It was total chaos. Not-Mario battled the old ladies, Luigi battled Not-Mario, and all of them battled me. With me out of the way, one of them could retrieve the pasty. Rebel smacked me in the face with her bag, Pinky made me gag from the overwhelming stench of too much perfume, Scarf strangled me with her scarf, Not-Mario screeched more than fought and Luigi continuously kicked me in the shins. I decided to fight back. My fists flew into Not-Mario's stomach and he hit the wall with a sickening thud. I roundhouse kicked Luigi in the face and he cried out. It sounded like he said "Mamma mia! Mya face-a!" I most likely just imagined that part come to think of it. I then stole Rebel's handbag and spilled the contents on the floor, causing her to scrabble for her belongings. I ripped Scarf's scarf despite how desperately I wanted it and she cried out in agony, as if I had broken her arm or something. Lastly, I smudged Pinky's make-up, causing her to cry.
I was a bloody mess of torn clothes and smudged make-up but I had won. I was victorious. I hurriedly ordered the magnificent pasty and ran home before they could get revenge for the ass-whopping I had served them. When I was home, I opened the bag and there she was in all her pasty perfection. I took one bite, the bite of all bites...and spat it out. I cannot begin to describe how terrible, how vile, how foul it tasted. So, I learned an important lesson. If there is one pasty left and you have to battle Mexicans and old ladies to have it walk away, it wont be any good. By the way, the fight was totally not real. I was just completely bored and decided "How about I fuck with some peoples minds!" Enjoy the mind fuck folks!
The fierce battle wasn't really a battle, it was a mere fight. But to be faced by three manic old ladies and two very angry Mexicans can really cause one to over exaggerate, therefore justifying the fact that it was a battle of epic proportions. What was the fight about you might ask? The fight was over a pasty. Yes folks, we fought over a pasty. Okay, so, I was hungry and you know when you're hungry and you go to the fridge right? And before your very eyes you find a feast fit for Satan himself and fist-pump, hit your hand on the roof of the fridge and swear at it for hurting before violently head-banging when the microwave beeps out to let you know that your food is hot and the smell invades your nostrils and you have a food-gasm when the first bite touches your tongue.
Unfortunately for me, there was no fist-pumping, no head-banging and no food-gasm. All there was were the deadly, icy daggers of "Holy shit who ate my leftovers" into the empty pit called "refrigerator". So, I went on a mighty quest to get food. I journeyed for a full five minutes to the little shop that sat on the corner of my street. I collapsed from lack of food and sheer laziness only ten centimetres from the door. It took all my strength and mental capacity to get back to my feet. Once I was steady, I charged in and yelled "I NEED SUSTENANCE!" Not really although that would have been awesome. What really happened was I walked over to the warm box thingy that I have never bothered to learn the name of and browsed their selection of sausage rolls, dagwood dogs and steak pies. That was when I saw it. It was beautiful!
The pasty was the tastiest looking item in the hot-keep-it-warm-box-thingamagig. The pasty was cooked to golden brown perfection that would crumble when you took one bite and I was sure that the filling was extremely delicious. My mouth began to water as I imagined eating the pasty. That was when I realised that I wasn't alone. I turned slowly and there they were, the old ladies and the Mexicans. The old ladies looked small and fragile and had warm smiles on their faces. They all carried yellow handbags and wore black dresses with floral print. Two old ladies had tightly permed white hair but the third old lady, the rebel she was, had locks of purple hair. I will call one old lady Scarf, because she had the coolest scarf ever created. I would honestly murder pixies and eat purple monkeys just to be able to touch that beast of a scarf. The second shall be called Pinky, because of the sheer fact that she was wearing way too much blush. And the rebel old lady, I'll just call her Rebel.
Now, the Mexicans. One of them looked exactly like Luigi which made no sense, since Luigi was Italian and this man was clearly Mexican. I was tempted to ask him if he knew where Mario was and if he had figured out that Princess Peach was sleeping with Bowser but realised that was inappropriate and would be awkward if he knew the answer. The other shall be called Not-Mario, obviously because he didn't look like Mario, leaving Luigi without his shorter ass-kicking brother. Anyway, all of them were staring at the pasty. I smirked because I was first in line; therefore the pasty was surely mine. I turned to order it right away when I was attacked from behind. I stumbled and hit my head on the hot-keep-it-warm box-thingy. I didn't know what to do.
"THAT PASTY IS MINE!" Screamed Not-Mario as he launched himself at me a second time. He scratched my back until he ripped the fibres of my shirt and drew blood. I can't recall when the others joined the fight. It was total chaos. Not-Mario battled the old ladies, Luigi battled Not-Mario, and all of them battled me. With me out of the way, one of them could retrieve the pasty. Rebel smacked me in the face with her bag, Pinky made me gag from the overwhelming stench of too much perfume, Scarf strangled me with her scarf, Not-Mario screeched more than fought and Luigi continuously kicked me in the shins. I decided to fight back. My fists flew into Not-Mario's stomach and he hit the wall with a sickening thud. I roundhouse kicked Luigi in the face and he cried out. It sounded like he said "Mamma mia! Mya face-a!" I most likely just imagined that part come to think of it. I then stole Rebel's handbag and spilled the contents on the floor, causing her to scrabble for her belongings. I ripped Scarf's scarf despite how desperately I wanted it and she cried out in agony, as if I had broken her arm or something. Lastly, I smudged Pinky's make-up, causing her to cry.
I was a bloody mess of torn clothes and smudged make-up but I had won. I was victorious. I hurriedly ordered the magnificent pasty and ran home before they could get revenge for the ass-whopping I had served them. When I was home, I opened the bag and there she was in all her pasty perfection. I took one bite, the bite of all bites...and spat it out. I cannot begin to describe how terrible, how vile, how foul it tasted. So, I learned an important lesson. If there is one pasty left and you have to battle Mexicans and old ladies to have it walk away, it wont be any good. By the way, the fight was totally not real. I was just completely bored and decided "How about I fuck with some peoples minds!" Enjoy the mind fuck folks!
Monday, 25 March 2013
Need Advice??
I hate those moments when you start thinking about nothing in particular when all of a sudden, you have a great idea. So you continue to think of this idea and build on it, making it better and better the more you think of it. But when you go to write it down or want to tell someone else about it, you completely forget what the idea is! That's kind of how I've been feeling when trying to write a post. I think of something and realise hey, that is such a great idea to write about, but as soon as I sit down in front of my computer, I immediately forget what it is. However, this time, I have managed to remember what it is I want to discuss.
Actually, I have a few and I would like to start with double standards. A few people I know don't let people touch their phone, Facebook or their computer (it depends on the person). These people get up people who touch then without asking, which is fine because they want their personal space. However, a small number of these people get upset when someone doesn't let them touch their phone/Facebook/computer and yell at them for it. My question for these people is why are you allowed to touch their stuff, but they can't touch yours? I mean, you don't trust people to touch your stuff but you expect people to trust you to with their stuff? I have a message....it doesn't work that way! Trust goes both ways, if you trust them, they will start to trust you! Ways to deal with this is hard for the people who have the double-standard, because it is really hard to trust people. But for those who are victims of these things, its easy. Put a lock or password on your phone that only you know, add a password or change the password for your computer and, change the password for your Facebook or if they don't already know it, never stay logged in when they are around. If they start to trust you to use their phone or whatever, even if they unlock or log in for you, show them the same level of trust. And don't do this alone. Tell the person to do the same! Then, they wont feel like you are excluding them from your life, they will feel like they are working with you to build trust with you.
Another problem I have is when people talk badly about other people behind their backs. I have to admit, I do it sometimes. I can't say that I don't ever do it, in fact, no one can really! Even if you think that what you are saying isn't bad, someone else might perceive it as such. I prefer to take a direct approach most of the time, by telling the person directly what I don't like about them or when I don't like what someone has done. But there are some people who do it all the time, and about everyone they know! And not just to one person, but to many people who might be friends with the person you are talking about. I have something to tell you. One day, you may not have any friends! Why? Because your friends started to wonder, if you talk that way about their other friends to them, what do you say about them to those other friends? Perhaps a better approach, which I have often used myself that really helps is to write down what you want to say about the person, what you dislike about them and burn it, or tear it to pieces and throw the pieces in the bin or flush them down the toilet. It'll work out better because people talk, and eventually, everything you say will reach the ears of the person you were talking about! Find other ways to let out your frustrations about people and maybe Facebook isn't the best way to do it, because the person may know or suspect it is about them. Even if all you are doing is writing their name on a piece of paper, taping it to a punching bag and beating the crap of it, it's more fulfilling than bitching. Unless you are on a reality TV show....always chose the option with the highest drama. But, since I'm neither, I'm going to stick with my punching bag and letter burning tactics or telling them calmly and more importantly in person.
So remember, if you know anyone with double standards, have double standards or if you are susceptible to constant bitching, these are only a small amount of things you could do to deal with the problem. There are so many more out there that you can constantly learn from! There is a never ending stream of advice on a various number of situations. I know that I haven't even tapped the surface in all the advice that I have read about certain situations and chances are, I will never learn it all. However, it has helped me a lot! Why not let it help you? Just take a look and I guarantee you, there is a never-ending stream of advice for whatever problem you are facing.
Actually, I have a few and I would like to start with double standards. A few people I know don't let people touch their phone, Facebook or their computer (it depends on the person). These people get up people who touch then without asking, which is fine because they want their personal space. However, a small number of these people get upset when someone doesn't let them touch their phone/Facebook/computer and yell at them for it. My question for these people is why are you allowed to touch their stuff, but they can't touch yours? I mean, you don't trust people to touch your stuff but you expect people to trust you to with their stuff? I have a message....it doesn't work that way! Trust goes both ways, if you trust them, they will start to trust you! Ways to deal with this is hard for the people who have the double-standard, because it is really hard to trust people. But for those who are victims of these things, its easy. Put a lock or password on your phone that only you know, add a password or change the password for your computer and, change the password for your Facebook or if they don't already know it, never stay logged in when they are around. If they start to trust you to use their phone or whatever, even if they unlock or log in for you, show them the same level of trust. And don't do this alone. Tell the person to do the same! Then, they wont feel like you are excluding them from your life, they will feel like they are working with you to build trust with you.
Another problem I have is when people talk badly about other people behind their backs. I have to admit, I do it sometimes. I can't say that I don't ever do it, in fact, no one can really! Even if you think that what you are saying isn't bad, someone else might perceive it as such. I prefer to take a direct approach most of the time, by telling the person directly what I don't like about them or when I don't like what someone has done. But there are some people who do it all the time, and about everyone they know! And not just to one person, but to many people who might be friends with the person you are talking about. I have something to tell you. One day, you may not have any friends! Why? Because your friends started to wonder, if you talk that way about their other friends to them, what do you say about them to those other friends? Perhaps a better approach, which I have often used myself that really helps is to write down what you want to say about the person, what you dislike about them and burn it, or tear it to pieces and throw the pieces in the bin or flush them down the toilet. It'll work out better because people talk, and eventually, everything you say will reach the ears of the person you were talking about! Find other ways to let out your frustrations about people and maybe Facebook isn't the best way to do it, because the person may know or suspect it is about them. Even if all you are doing is writing their name on a piece of paper, taping it to a punching bag and beating the crap of it, it's more fulfilling than bitching. Unless you are on a reality TV show....always chose the option with the highest drama. But, since I'm neither, I'm going to stick with my punching bag and letter burning tactics or telling them calmly and more importantly in person.
So remember, if you know anyone with double standards, have double standards or if you are susceptible to constant bitching, these are only a small amount of things you could do to deal with the problem. There are so many more out there that you can constantly learn from! There is a never ending stream of advice on a various number of situations. I know that I haven't even tapped the surface in all the advice that I have read about certain situations and chances are, I will never learn it all. However, it has helped me a lot! Why not let it help you? Just take a look and I guarantee you, there is a never-ending stream of advice for whatever problem you are facing.
Saturday, 26 January 2013
Thank you
I am so pleased to see that my blog is beginning to branch out and more people are beginning to read it. I'm kind of a stalker of my own blog to see where my main audience is located and I am so glad to see that it is now being viewed in America! That really means a lot to me. A lot of what I want is probably so boring your brains melt and eyes water from the multiple spelling and grammatical mistakes that I make because I am too lazy to spell check but for those that have been reading this from the beginning or who have only just started to read it and intend to continue reading it, or stumbled across it by chance and never want to read my babbling bullshit ever again, I thank you all so much. I know all of my opinions are one-sided but hey! Who's opinions aren't? Especially a big shout out to anyone who watches the WWE or anyone who is part of the WWE for reading it and for spreading my blog even faster!
Everyone has a passion for something and my passion is writing. In fact, it I were ever to tell anyone how I felt about something or were to open up completely and tell my whole life story to them, it would all be written down for everyone to read. There is so much more that you can say in the written form than when you are trying to say it. Most of the times we can never find the right words to say to someone but if we were to write it down, our vocabulary suddenly becomes far more advanced. We leave words like "dude" and "bro" behind and put down what we really feel. Actually, that's not true for all people, I know people that are so much better at speaking than writing and I really admire them. I'm jealous of them even. I have trouble telling my best friend what I'm feeling. Not that it matters, he always knows. If I do something stupid that I could have hurt myself or am thinking of it, I get a phone call from him straight away and I get a lecture. Boy how I miss those lectures. It's been a while since either of us have done anything stupid.
My passion isn't writing because of how much easier it is for me to explain what I thinking, no. I like it because you can write anything in the exact order that you want it to and it will flow, everyone can follow what I'm thinking when I write it all down because of the more flared descriptions I would place in it than if I were to say it. If I were physically saying this to all of you, no one would understand what I was saying. Actually, I'm fairly certain I wouldn't even get the first word out of my mouth and that's only one letter.
So once again, thank you for reading my blog. I promise I will try and write more for you all to read a lot more often than I did last year. Have a great night or day, where ever you all are.
Everyone has a passion for something and my passion is writing. In fact, it I were ever to tell anyone how I felt about something or were to open up completely and tell my whole life story to them, it would all be written down for everyone to read. There is so much more that you can say in the written form than when you are trying to say it. Most of the times we can never find the right words to say to someone but if we were to write it down, our vocabulary suddenly becomes far more advanced. We leave words like "dude" and "bro" behind and put down what we really feel. Actually, that's not true for all people, I know people that are so much better at speaking than writing and I really admire them. I'm jealous of them even. I have trouble telling my best friend what I'm feeling. Not that it matters, he always knows. If I do something stupid that I could have hurt myself or am thinking of it, I get a phone call from him straight away and I get a lecture. Boy how I miss those lectures. It's been a while since either of us have done anything stupid.
My passion isn't writing because of how much easier it is for me to explain what I thinking, no. I like it because you can write anything in the exact order that you want it to and it will flow, everyone can follow what I'm thinking when I write it all down because of the more flared descriptions I would place in it than if I were to say it. If I were physically saying this to all of you, no one would understand what I was saying. Actually, I'm fairly certain I wouldn't even get the first word out of my mouth and that's only one letter.
So once again, thank you for reading my blog. I promise I will try and write more for you all to read a lot more often than I did last year. Have a great night or day, where ever you all are.
Sunday, 20 January 2013
WWE? Or WTE?
I'm very new to the WWE. It wasn't until I started dating my current boyfriend of almost one year that I really started to watch it and that when I started to notice a trend. Don't get me wrong, watching CM Punk get slammed with a chair, bashed with a ladder and thrown through a table by Ryback was the funniest thing I had seen in a while but the "civilised conversations" that the superstars have in the ring is the best thing that I have ever witnessed in my life.
The quality of tantrums and the amount of times that the same people have the same argument over almost the same situations is amazing! I don't know why I find it so interesting. My boyfriend laughs every time I flinch when one of them throws a punch. The WWE should be renamed WTE....World Tantrums Entertainment. I'm joking. Compared to some of the other shitty shows on TV like Jersey Shore and Gordie Shore, WWE is ranked as one of my favourite shows right now. Someone does however need to make better shoes more interesting than pregnant teens.
The quality of tantrums and the amount of times that the same people have the same argument over almost the same situations is amazing! I don't know why I find it so interesting. My boyfriend laughs every time I flinch when one of them throws a punch. The WWE should be renamed WTE....World Tantrums Entertainment. I'm joking. Compared to some of the other shitty shows on TV like Jersey Shore and Gordie Shore, WWE is ranked as one of my favourite shows right now. Someone does however need to make better shoes more interesting than pregnant teens.
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