My children will go to St Trinians (or todays equivalent. . .)

So today a frined outlined her future plans for the education of her adopted children (she is a small child hater & therefore plans to bypass the stretch marks & wingeing stage). So the troubled teenage offspring out of care are going to be shipped off to boarding school for lessons in homo-sexual intercourse and dealing weed! Important life lessons didnt you know that everyone should be inducted into. Of course i'll have to re-name them she notes or else they won't fit into the clique perhpas Storm, Persia or Priscilla would suit. & wot if they don't want to leave home i ask? well im going to be such an awful mother that they wont be able to get shot of me sooner she replies. Hmm fair.

Where did we go right?

So we arrive at a beautiful house overlooking the sea equipped with rose wine & nibbles just in case a sophisticated evening has been planned (BUT never fear we had the peach lambrini - yes we are that cheap - & smirnoff in the boot in all readiness). Completely prepared to get totally innapropriate & rowdy we are not disappointed when our host pops down to the co-op to get sum tequila & a lemon! At this point we retrieve the alcohol from the car & the night begins.

The evening slowly deteriarates into a haze as we revert to 'I have never. . .' spin the bottle & strip poker. Immature some might say but there is a reason they are old favourites!!! Which leads me on to a question: which way do u approach when you go in for the kill - sorry kiss? My left or cack-handed approach was the source of much amusement & teeth clashing - which i might add is possibly one of the worst feelings. I've never experienced this before & put it down to either drunken un co-ordination from both parties or someone somewhere telling me that I should not be tongueing girls, someone elses boyfriend or indeed my best friend! Wrong on so many different levels. Perhaps to resolve this I will conform & approach from the right in the future!

Upon the declaration that someone at the table had never received a love bite a friend proceeds to correct this by giving them to everyone sat around the table. Its almost as if we are branded as in the morning its discovered that we each bare identical marks on our necks. What goes on in these 5 walls stays within the walls (& yes the room did have 5 walls!) It's time to get out the scarf, apply that concealer & wear one's hair down. No one wants to explain a love bite let alone if its been given by a girl it could all get rather uncomfortable & embarassing!


At this point people start removing clothes at will. No one is sure of the exact rules of poker so the bottle is used to serve another function - perhpas we shud rename it striptease rather than strip poker. Among a table of relatively small boobed girls I am left feeling very much more adequate & two hands have to come into play rather than the conventional one-armed hug of the cleavage. As underwear is removed people start arranging what they think are strategically arranged pieces of kitchen towel. One of the guys walks around casually letting it all hang out I have a passing thought that this is what it must feel like on a nude beach hmm how very liberating! Looking at our discarded clothing around the table we realise there is nothing more to remove & on this note we all fall into a hastily arranged bed.

Big boys don't cry

One of my most uncomfortable experiences to date was listening to a best friends boyfriend hysterically sobbing down the fone to her this morning. Basically she had ended it with him the previous evening because some innapropriate fotos of him with another girl were found on the internet. He was literally beside himself - horrible, just horrible.
This doesn't mean I'm some cold hearted witch who is against guys expressing their emotions. I actually find it quite endearing when a bloke sheds a little tear at the end of a sad film & then tries to disguise the sniffing under the pretence of a cold or hayfever. But my tolerance will only stretch so far - crying after sex for example: just creepy. During sports as well crying is totally unacceptable. There can be none of this tearing up because you've just sustained a carrer threatening injury i.e. just received a little kick. Take it like a man & suck it up, shake it off & get bak out there!
There is just something distinctly feminine about sobbing & wailing which I think should be kept separate from the male population as a whole if only to maintain face!

Ah family - you've got to love them

So I attended the marriage of some distant relation (a second cousin twice removed or sumthin) to a guy who I've never met before in a town which is in the bak of beyond - I mean wot cud be more fun than that?? Not a lot actually if you have one crack-pot family. As soon as the free bucks fizz & champers start flowing all hell breaks loose!

For starters theres the welsh aunt who looks like the cleaning lady Aggie off of Kim & Aggie onli blown up with a bicycle pump. She cackles like a witch & drinks like a fish. Once shes knocked bak 10 pints she hits the dance floor like a crazed woman head swinging hips shaking (I wud use the word gyrating but it makes me feel a little bit nauseous) truly believing as Abba sings that she is 'the dancing queen.'

Also theres a crazed uncle who rushes off in the middle of the reception because he gets a call on his mobile that theres been a spotting of a rare bird (yes of the feathered variety) at the other end of the country. No1 is surprised that this man can't hold down a relationship. Rather shockingly he did marry once to Gislayne whose maiden name was Fluck. She liked her friends to call her Gizee, as in Gizee Fluck - in all seriousness! Wow, just wow.

Then theres the friend of the groom who requests Bryan Adams summer of 69 (much to the wedding DJs delight). He must have desparately wanted to be in a rock band in his youth as he head bangs & air guitars the entire way through. I am just in awe as I clutch at my head making sure its still firmly attached - if I attempt it even to a chorus in a very un-hardcore way I'd give myself a nose bleed.

Then theres the cousin who relates his entire sob story over lunch. It turns out his ex has just had a little boy but hes not sure if the baby is his. Yet he is still forking out a fortune in maintenance - a paternity test follows. . .It reads like a script of eastenders. His new woman who is sat next to him looks old enoff to be his mother & also has a ring through her nose (perhaps not so like her mother afta all) looks highly unimpressed throughout this sorry tale & looks as if she wud quite like to drill a bolt through my nose as well as I try & disguise my laugwith my napkin. Maybe she was turning her pierced nose up as it looked quite like I'd just spat something into it!

Amazing scenes

Well, hey there 2008!

So, last year the number of resolutions I kept = 0 therefore I have decided to stick to the same resolutions for this year & see if I fare any better! My progress on these resolutions may follow.

My friend & I have also come up with a new theory that how attracted we are to a guy depends on our dominant sense. For me its smell & for her its taste. It seems I have this very odd habbit of sniffing something before I try it this applies to drink, food oh & men! Experience has taught me that I am most attracted to a soapy 'I have just been washed' smell - strange but true! New year also taught me that I find the smell of beer & stale smoke also highly attractive. For my friend its how a guy tastes if you get my drift. I have to say I've never 'tasted' a guy as such maybe this is because I have never pulled a bloke tasting of anything really repugnent (good word must use this more in everyday conversation) like fish or curries or just generally really bad breath! Apparently the taste of beer makes her wanna gag. Note to men: always carry gum. Maybe my attraction to the clean smell bodes me well in this sense that I always end up with sum1 hu looks after themselves - see the senses look after the other senses uh huh. Its a theory that works for us anyway: so wots your dominant sense??

So it was a good new year definitely topping my new years to date. Having said that this is no difficult feat as last year was spent in a french ski resort bar watchin french porn on a wide screen tele (No - really!) which was quite odd as upon enetering surrounded by neon signs I thought I was in a gay bar - obviously not! Is it commonplace to play porn in bars in France? I haven't visited enough to pass judgement. It was kind of intrigueing at first I'm not gonna lie but then the cheapness started to make me feel a bit nauseous. Is it normal to get porn flash backs as well eurgh gag!