Tuesday, July 28, 2009

Je suis en retard

That's French for late. Not retard. Idiots.

I forgot to say how much I want a new tattoo. It is killing me. I would secretly love to be covered but it makes me sad face as I am poor and have to think about things like high brow nights out for work which may mean that seemingly innocuous tattoos become a talking point because there really is nothing else to discuss at these shindigs.

I have gone from the skull flower on the inside of my ankle to a pocket watch on my hip to maybe just going crazy and having both. However. I do not want this or this. Do you think she noticed she forgot to take off her necklace first? I remember when I had my last tattoo done and they asked to take a photo of it. Immediately I took all my clothes off. Then I pulled a suitably angst ridden face to convey the angst on my face. Then they took a photo of my feet.


Scary. Unless you're dead you must have seen the new Alice in Wonderland trailer. I am excited.

I am also so very excited about seeing all my uni friends on Friday for drunken japes in a country hotel. Emails currently doing the rounds have things in them like:

I'm going to get so drunk I forget my own name.
I think perhaps we should pace ourselves and only start the real drinking at 7.
I'm thinking perhaps we should bring some vodka for our room - I fucking love you. If you had brains you'd be dangerous
I hope we're getting a full English in the morning or I'll make sure I puke in a pot plant

It wouldn't be untrue to say the bride is shitting herself. Mainly cos we're coming. It would also not be untrue to say that she has deliberately separated us so the meal doesn't end up like the final scene in Bugsy Malone.

Wednesday, July 22, 2009


I like this. Shamelessly stolen. We used to have one of these. Then all the fishes went away to the big tank in the sky.


At first sight, this was horrible. But now I can't decide if it is growing on me. On the whole I don't think it is. I initially described it as "the stuff of Mr T's nightmares" and I think that it's a sentiment that not only can we all get behind but that it truly deserves.

I only really got a quick look at the picture today at work because I wasn't even stealth interneting but so busy that I didn't have the time to investigate this fully. I have now had time to fully appraise said item and I think my favourite part is the fact it is described as an "oversized conversational piece". I don't know about you but not even my most expensive Tatty Devine Dinosaur necklace is conversational. He is mute. I cajole him and attempt polite banter but he remains silent, like Charlie Chaplin. I feel it is quite unfortunate that I'm missing out on such a phenomena. Do you think it's aware of its size problem or is it oblivious because it has never known any different? Is it sad at ASOS's size-ist description? Is it likely that if I purchased it at some point I'd have to have the Difficult Conversation which inevitably follows the question, "Why am I much bigger than all the other boys and girls my age?"

Tuesday, July 21, 2009

Cheveux Nouveau

So the time has come for a Haircut. Now that I basically have placed myself in a self imposed shop exile (apart from this month - it's the sales. I have been a granny and bought things to 'put away' for when I need them. Eugh) I enjoy a Haircut. The price of it makes Monsieur B say, "cunting haircut", a lot but I tend to ignore him. Mainly because I like having my hair cut. And what he doesn't know is that the place where I go fills you up with so much wine you basically drink the price of it in wine. Well. I do. But here is the problem: this Haircut is scheduled for 11am. What's the done thing here? Personally I don't have a problem with getting on it early. Have I mentioned the Saturday Club? I fear that they may judge me adversely though. I'm inclined to fuck it and just drink ridiculous amounts anyway and hope that they see me as fun loving as opposed to an alcoholic.

Speaking of alcoholic. The last week and a half of work has made me see why so many in my profession are on the sauce. And I am not joking.

I guess you're wondering why Scarlet is up? Firstly, because I am fitter than her. Much. And I like to remind myself of just how hot I look after 5 hours sleep and bleary eyed make up application on the train on the way to work. Also, I'm thinking of stealing her hair. But long. I'm talking silly choppy but long. Okay. I've lost you now. You don't care do you? You're too busy looking at Scarlet. Fickle bastards.

Monday, July 20, 2009

Au Revoir Vetements

If I was in to that sort of thing then I'd take all my clothes off to this. But I'm not. And I don't know how appropriate it is in public. Plus it would have to be a very burlesque affair and carrying fans around that are four foot by four foot is just silly. And a tad unwieldy

Friday, July 10, 2009

My Clients Have More Money Than Sense

New Receptionist - Hidden Behind Forest: Are you Miss B?

Me: Yes, why?

Crowd gathering

New Receptionist: These came for you

Me: You're wrong. Have you tried the other Miss B?

New Receptionist: Is there another Miss B?

Me: Well no but....is this a joke? Is this some kind of fucking joke?

Totally red and embarrassed the accompanying card is opened. From my boss' son who I have done a shed load of work for of late. Gratis. A card full of lovely things awaits me. I know what you're thinking, what a massively gigantic tasteful bouquet of flowers. Yeah. I know. He's gay. He has excellent taste. Obviously.

So The Flowers were given a chair of their own for the day at the desk of someone who was ill. And then commenced the two hour, 2 change journey home. It's a whole other story but reactions were fairly polarised. People either smiled a lot at me like I was a lunatic or scowled at me for poking them in the eye with green shit. Obviously the best comment came from one bloke to another bloke who appeared to be builders, "Someone has had some apologising to do". Silly builders. If you have apologising to do you ply me with gin and make me laugh until I fall off my chair.

Once I had got over the initial shock The Flowers cheered me up immensely as I had had the morning from Hell. From Hell. You know in Lemony Snicket when Violet ties up her hair when she has some serious thinking to do? Well, so do I. And today my hair was tied up all day. All. Day. Mmm. Serious. No frivolous emails either. Lunch was a touch and go affair. Breakfast was a total non starter and let's forget about my initial plans to leave at 4 to be home early to see my Goddaughter. More importantly, I only had 4 cups of tea today. I have the shakes from withdrawal.

Thursday, July 09, 2009

Je voudrais porter

I would absolutely wear all of this fucking shit. Hoom.

Wednesday, July 08, 2009

C'était pas une crise de coeur. Seulement que j'ai oublié que le travail, c'est merde

Crisis averted. It always helps to get things off your chest -

Me: Basically I feel work is a massive pile of shit at the moment
My Boss, the big one, with all the power, and money: Don't be silly. And even if it is it doesn't matter. The important thing you have to remember is that you are loved. And nothing else really matters.
Me: Mmm. I'm going to Brighton now
My Boss: You should have told me you're going to Brighton. I'm going tomorrow, I would have given you a lift
Me: Aww. Thanks. But I would like to get totalled on Pimms tonight.

It also helps to avert a crisis when you spend the weekend hanging out with your favourite and best mates by the sea having meat babies. And seeing real babies. That you're sort of in charge of. And who are the teeniest things ever. It just sort of sucks when you have to go home and come back to reality.

Friday, July 03, 2009

Crise de Coeur

I'm pretty sure I'm having a crisis. Not sure what about though. Perhaps if I take to my bed for a few weeks I'll get up and it'll have all gone away.