Wednesday, 24 July 2013

and I thought the Daily Mail was bad...

The Royal Baby is here and isn’t it bloody fucking lovely?  Doesn’t it make London feel just like it did at the Royal Wedding, or when the Olympics was on?  Isn’t everyone filled with sunshine and rainbows and in a constant state of perpetual happiness?

No?  Ok, not quite, but it is cute.  It’s cute from the Royal Prince’s little wave as he was bought out of the hospital, right down to the dress Kate wore to showcase the tot that matched Diana’s when she’d de-sprogged.  It’s cute that most people are a bit bothered.  It’s cute that William totally shat himself when he had to put the car seat into the car for the first time.  It’s all cute, and most of London are embracing this cuteness.

It’s a shame then, that Ok! Magazine have decided to run a story THE DAY AFTER KATE GAVE BIRTH, about her fitness regime to get her back into shape.  What sort of fucking story is that?  Before the baby was born I was getting irritated with the news surrounding it.  “Kate breaks down over pressure of being a mum”, “Kate can’t cope” “Kate is scared 7up will come out of her nipples instead of milk when she attempts to breastfeed” – Do any of these magazines expect us to think for 1 second that any of the content of these articles are true?  I fully believe that we have more chance of the Royal Prince sprouting wings and flying to Africa to punch Nelson Mandela right in the death bed then we have of Kate disclosing any sort of personal information, thoughts or feelings to any part of the media.

So yeah, I thought the press BEFORE the birth were bad, but I had no idea.  You would have thought the worst thing about this situation would be that there were so many press outside the hospital waiting to see the baby, that Wills and Kate got only 4 HOURS ALONE with their child before he became public property.  4 HOURS.  Can you imagine giving birth, having a day of tests and hair appointments and this and that and then when any NORMAL couple would go home and bond with the kid, instead he’s yanked out of your arms and dangled in front of the worlds media so they can have an opinion of every aspect of his life, for the REST of his life?  I mean, some of the press are moaning that we haven’t got a name yet – are they freaking serious?  Give them a chance!  They probably haven’t had time to think of a name because they have been surrounded by press officers, hairdressers, stylists and PR people trying to get them ready for the Prince’s debut into the media circus (which, coincidentally, the press were moaning about because they were told they’d come out at 6pm, and at 7.10 they were still waiting – get a grip).

That isn’t the worst thing about this situation though.  The worst thing is that people are even speculating about how Kate is going to get back in shape after the birth, when she hadn’t even left the hospital?  I liked that she came out with her deflated baby bump on show – it shows what a real woman looks like after she has given birth.  She could have easily worn some fucking £10,000 designer tent and no one would have seen it, but she clearly didn’t give a fuck and I like that.  That’s why I like Wills and Kate, because they do their bit but still want the press to back the fuck off – all you have to do is utter the name Diana to realise why Wills feels this way.  I know they are both in the public eye, but Kate’s job isn’t to be skinny, it’s to be ROYAL.  She’ll ditch that baby weight in her own time, but I can guarantee she probably has a million things that are more important to her at the moment – like trying to stop Camilla from eating the baby?

So to narrow it down, the press are vultures, Ok! can FuckOff! and Kate is a total MILF.  The baby is cute, it’s made me feel all patriotic and now I am off to rub my ovaries while simultaneously waving a Union Jack and eating for 2 – no I am not pregnant but I might as well practice for when I am right?

P.S That baby is totes going to be called George.  Or Alex.  If it’s Nicholas I will fully spaz.

Friday, 19 July 2013

The hardest thing in the world everrrrrrrr

So I am back blogging after suffering from really annoying writers block which consisted of me writing loads of blogs, getting 2 thirds of the way through and then deleting them as I had convinced myself I was talking a load of shit.  This may still be the case, but I don’t feel as bad about it anymore, so deal with it!

To help me combat this writers block, and to give myself a bit of an exercise, I asked my twitter followers (my Twitter handle is @queenmorsh FYI) to all tweet me 1 word, and I would try and include them all in a blog post.  I have written a short piece about LOVE with all words included and believe me now, it was HARD.  My followers definitely weren’t easy on me & please bear in mind some of these words I had never even HEARD of and I found the explanations online - there is a list below detailing the words I was given and the meanings I found online...


The subject of my blog today is LOVE.  Good old fashioned love.  It’s the one thing that differentiates humans from animals, the one thing that we all have in common.  The ability to love overwhelms and consumes some of us, where for others it has a totally different meaning.  It could be as simple as a fiduciary arrangement, nothing more than a matter of convenience, whereas for others it can be spontaneous, consuming, overwhelming and the thing that makes their lives have meaning.  Love can be a peculiar thing. 

Summer is a great time to be single, it’s the winter months where everyone wants to be in a relationship.  In summer you can go out all day drinking with your friends in the sunshine, stay out till late indulging in acts of debauchery and it’s all perfectly acceptable.  Summer is all sunshine and toes out, laying in parks and drinking bubbles after work in the heat.  In the winter you don’t want to go out after work and run the risk of catching some sort of ridiculous winter ailment like Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanokoniosis (cough).  You want spend your nights chilling, stuffing your face with crumpets in front of the fire at home and just watch a film - if it’s October you need a companion to hide from the ultimate winter nemesis - little kids dressed as dinosaurs, dragons or a mutant princess while they are trick or treating – laying on the floor in a pitch black house giggling while little rascal kids whine through your letterbox is no fun on your own.   

Being in a relationship is all well and good, but when a relationship ends it floors you.  You walk around inconsolable, unable to hold conversations, unable to eat, drink.   You almost feel floccinaucinihilipilification (I know, this is just ridiculous now), like you will never love again.  The mere mention of weddings makes you want to encourage antidisestablishmentarianism (*clears throat*) just because you can’t bear to hear about rings or venues or cakes or HAPPINESS.  SOD OFF EVERYONE.  You let yourself go, eating cakes and fully embracing a lycanthropic state of mind, to the point of almost being moribund.  Your friends gather around you in a state of phalanx, deflecting questions about the break up and protecting you from any potential upset (or seeing the beast your ex is now with).  The entire messy relationship sporadically comes back to you and you can’t remember the bad times – to you it was amazing, nothing short of it.  You’ve forgotten how much you wanted to punch his shrimpy little face in when he left the toilet seat up and invaded your personal space, and it’s because you have created a false ideology about him.  You’re forgetting the frankly perpendicular decline your relationship entered into, and just remembering all those times he bought you tulips when you didn’t feel well and then sat next to you playing the xbox all night which at the time you thought was sweet, but now just realise it’s bullshit.

In short, we might all be getting older, and we might all think we want to settle down, but in reality relationships are nothing more than a pain in the frenulum (I have given up with that one).

List of words I was given:

Sporadic – occasionally, irregular intervals
Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanokoniosis - type of lung disease
Floccinaucinihilipilification – valueless
Lycanthropic – the delusion in which one imagines oneself to be a wolf or  other wild animal
antidisestablishmentarianism – withdrawal of state support from an established church
Phalanax – any body of troops in close array – military
Moribund – morose, near death
Perpendicular – straight up or down, steep
Fiduciary – legal or ethical relationship or trust between 2 or more parties
Frenulum – small fold underneath tongue

So there you go - would love some contrstuctive critiscism or any comments considering I am doing this for a reason (to try and improve my writing) but as a first task I don't thnk I did TOO badly *dies*