Weird little thoughts...

Finally I am bored of forcing my opinions on you all, so I want you to read this post and tell me what YOU think in the comments.  Before I even begin I want you to know neither I nor the other people I have referenced in this blog post are depressed, suicidal or on the brink of hurting anyone.  We don’t need help, we don’t need to talk to someone and there is nothing wrong with us...  We also mean no disrespect to anyone that has gone through or experienced any of the things we are referencing in this post – these are literally just our weird little thoughts...

So I was talking to a few friends the other day and we ended up getting onto the subject of weird things we think.  Bear in mind I’m actually laughing as I am typing this because you are all going to think we are mental...

To make this easier to explain, I am going to start straight off the bat with an explanation merged with examples.  One day I got into work and it had been very windy and a window panel had blown off the side of my building.  I work in a tall building in Central London, so they had to shut the road and get fire-fighters out to replace it.  All seemed like a bit palava at the time, but no one was injured and it was all sorted quickly, no bother.  NOW every time I leave the station, walk down the road to work and spot my building, I get this horrible feeling that a window is going to fall out and land on me and cut my head off.  That might seem like a normal, rational fear to you given the panel incident, but I actually imagine it happening and it makes me a bit panicky.  I can imagine walking past the bakery and a big fucking panel smashes me to pulp on the floor like something out of Final Destination.  Is that just a really weird, morbid thing to think of?  I end up walking down the road looking up at all the buildings to make sure a big pane of glass isn’t hurtling towards me – just think about if that did happen, you wouldn’t even know it until it was too late?  Scary.

I also get it when standing on train platforms, but this is more weird thoughts of the self harming variety.  I have no desire to die by my own hands or anyone else’s so before you call the Samaritans just listen up.  When I am standing on train platforms & the train is coming towards me I think “I could just jump in front of that train and be dead in 5 seconds" and it would literally be THAT EASY to kill yourself.  Then I think it's really weird that you are that in control of your own life, and 9 times out of 10 the only thing that is stopping you from dying is... you? 

I also think this when I am driving... “if I wanted to, I could just drive into that wall over there and kill myself”.  I don’t know if I am still shocked at the level of responsibility each person has over their own life, but it is something I think about quite a bit.  It still shocks me that in the morning, everyone I know trusts me to just wake up, get ready and go to work.  The people I work with trust that I am going to do that.  If my parents don’t hear from me throughout the day it doesn’t matter, because they just trust that I am at work – that to me is weird.  I could literally leave the house and do ANYTHING, I could get a flight to Nepal, I could steal a donkey or go and get all my hair shaved off and my eyebrows dyed pink – but no one thinks I am going to do that, and I don’t. I do go to work, even though I have literally a thousand options of things I could do every day.  That freaks me out too.

Before you try and commit me to a mental asylum I am not alone in this.  The conversation that started this whole thought process threw up some interesting things that other people think about.  One friend said that whenever they meet someone new and they are talking to them face to face, they kind of stop paying attention to the conversation and actually imagine punching them in the face – actually doing it, what they would look like as he was doing it, what it would be like, what the reaction would be etc.  He said he has done it with virtually everyone he has ever met – he also admitted he’d done it with me on more than 1 occasion, but I think he’s not alone in that... This guy also admitted that his brother bought a cut throat razor, and upon holding it instantly felt like he wanted to slice his neck with it and told him he wanted it out of the house.  He didn’t want to kill himself, he just couldn’t stop himself from imagining doing it and what it would be like.  It’s not the actual act of wanting to hurt yourself as none of us want to, but it’s just the thoughts of what it would be like plus the responsibility that there’s literally no one there to stop us from doing it if we wanted to.  It blows my mind really.

So basically I want to know what weird things you think about every day?  Don’t worry about seeming mental, I think this blog post has proved that I am hardly the sanest person on the planet.  I am just curious to know if this sort of thought process is pretty normal, or if I should maybe go and talk to someone about my issues... although I wonder what would happen if I just walked into the therapists office and slammed his head into the desk?  Thoughts?

I'm baaaaaaaaaack

Hola!

I am back, it’s 2014 and many things have changed...  Since my last post I have got engaged, moved countries and got a new job!

Only joking, I am still as boring, single and mouthy as I always was.  I’ve come back because after an extremely long bought of writers block, Celebrity Big Brother has inspired me to blog again and i’m telling you now it ain’t gonna be pretty...

I am sure previous readers of my blog will expect this post to be full of hate for Liz Jones, but surprisingly you are wrong.  I still think she is an awful waste of air and having to look at her vile, misshapen head every night on tv isn’t doing my nerves any favours, but she is not the object of my hatred.  Even though she smothers the whole bottom half of her face in Vaseline and walks around looking like she’s been jazzed on by a sperm whale, or says such frankly moron-ish things like (when asked if her mother was protective) said “yeah she really was, she just really didn’t want me to get run over or anything” (same as most mums out there I would have thought Liz?), I still have a special reserve of hatred for an alternative housemate.  Ladies and Gentlemen, I present to you Mr Lee Ryan. 

Straight off the bat let me make 1 thing clear.  How Lee has acted in the Big Brother house isn’t UNFORGIVABLE.  It’s not as if he was married and cheated on someone on tv or anything like that, and frankly in the grand scheme of things it’s really not a big deal at all.  The reason I despise him is because of how he has acted afterwards.

For those of you that aren’t in the know, Lee went into the house chained to a glamour model called Casey.  Standard page 3 girl, big boobs, pretty face, hair extensions etc but she seemed alright.  For the first few days Lee and Casey were chained together so obviously couldn’t leave each other’s side and got closer.  Lee was ALL OVER Casey, hugging her and kissing her and telling her how much he liked her etc.  It was a bit ridic.  Next night, having finally been unchained, he waltz’s off (literally) with Jasmine Waltz, a home-wrecking nasty piece of work from LA with a skin to plastic ratio higher than Barbie’s.  He snogs her and then spends the rest of his mundane existence all over Jasmine like a particularly annoying case of syphilis, and does it ALL IN FRONT of Casey.  Then when Casey gets upset, proceeds to say she is mental and a bunny boiler and she’s making him look like the bad guy and he hasn’t done anything wrong, he doesn’t want to be a player.

For starters Lee, you aren’t a player.  You are a little kid who’s not mature enough to interact with 2 girls at the same time without trying to get in their pants.  You are an idiot.  I can’t STAND boys like this.  Fair enough Lee is single and can do what he wants, but you HAVE  to  understand why Casey is upset.  If she starts developing feelings for a guy she THINKS likes her back, only for him to run off with American roadkill and flaunt it in front of her face she’s not going to be best pleased about it is she?

He’s doing the classic boy trick of trying to get himself off the hook by implying the girl is mad.  Lee’s argument is that he hasn’t known Casey that long and wasn’t actually ‘with’ her, therefore she can’t be annoyed.  We all know it’s not as black and white as that and Lee is losing fans (well I say fans, I actually mean people that previously tolerated him) by the bucket-load because of how disrespectful he is being to Casey. 

For any boys reading this, this is not the way to act.  Yeah fair enough sometimes you meet a girl and think you like her, then another girl walks in who’s prettier/skinnier/got bigger boobs etc and you decide you like her more.  We KNOW you all think with your dicks, so these sorts of situations hardly come as a surprise to most of us.  Just know that if this happens you should try and have enough respect for the first girl (especially if you are locked in a house with her for 3 weeks) to explain the situation to her, apologise and not flaunt the new relationship in front of her face.  You don’t have to make her feel stupid and insane to make yourself feel better.

Frankly I think it’s amazing that Lee has 1 girl interested in him at all, let alone 2.  This entire blog post isn’t about Lee Ryan specifically though, he’s just highlighted typical treatment of girls that happens in real life every day.  I just think boys need to know that they don’t ALWAYS have to act like cocks if they do something wrong.  Or even if they do something right.  BASICALLY BOYS JUST STOP ACTING LIKE COCKS PLEASE.

Oh and I just want to throw this out there; if Lee Ryan is in a house with the racist, sexist neanderthal Jim Davidson, the world’s most obtuse, vile journo Liz Jones and horse playmate Dappy from N-Dubz and STILL manages to be the most hated person in there, he has got some major issues.  ALL RISE!

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.

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...

LOVE 

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:

Shrimpy

Spontaneous

Debauchery

Sunshine

Peculiar

Chilling

October

Crumpet

Princess

Nemesis

Dragon

Dinosaur

Rascal

Bubbles

Tulips

Toe

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*

Samantha Brick for Christs sake

Guess who’s back...

That’s right, I have come back out of blogging retirement and Samantha Brick is going DOWN.

Yep, she’s done it again – that selfish, irresponsible, self indulgent woman has rambled too far this time.  She’s written an article about how if women want to stay beautiful (she’s even written ‘like me!’ in brackets after those words), then they have to constantly diet.  Where do I even fucking begin?

She starts by saying that she was having a dinner party and told her friends not to bring any food with them.  She then writes “when one friend arrived and thrust a hefty box of chocolates into my hands, I rewarded her with ice cold contempt rather than the grateful smile she was clearly expecting”.  The reason Brick’s friend (I use this in the loosest possible terms, because I refuse to believe she has any real friends left) was expecting a smile, is because this is something a polite and friendly person would do.  Whether she wanted the chocolates or not, treating someone with ‘ice-cold contempt’ because they have given you some is just rude and immature.  She thinks being on a diet means you can ignore manners, social etiquette and politeness?  If she had done that to me, I would have never stopped punching her.  EVER.  I would have quit my job and never washed again, just so I could keep punching her.

“Any self respecting woman wants to be thin”.  For a writer she has used an extraordinary set of words there.  So if you don’t want to be thin you don’t respect yourself?  I am not what you would class as thin – someone like Samantha Brick would probably call me fat, but I feel in myself I am neither skinny nor fat.  I am in some squashy, untoned place within these two labels.  Regardless of this, I do respect myself and I for one, don’t care about labels.  One of the million things that is wrong with this article is that Brick is labelling herself, other women, everyone else CONSTANTLY.  As a woman in the media she should be encouraging women not to worry about how many biscuits they had at lunch, but to ignore the labels.  Teach them that they are just themselves, and they should be comfortable this way.  *belts out Born This Way by Gaga* *rest of office joins in for a spontaneous musical number*

“I don’t believe overweight is ever attractive”.  One word here - Adele.  Albeit overweight, I think Adele is ridiculously, STUNNINGLY beautiful.  Being attractive isn’t about the size of your waist line, nine times out of ten it boils down to confidence, some good make up and a smile.  Adele is more attractive then most people I know, and I bet most blokes would rather be in bed with Adele having a laugh then banging away at the cold dead eyes of Samantha ‘ironing board' Brick.  But GOD FORBID we should say someone else in this universe was more attractive then this stupid blonde hemorrhoid.

She then goes on to say that Joan Collins has confirmed that the only way to maintain an hourglass figure into your 70s is to spend every day of your life on a diet.  Food, eating and meals are a very social thing, and I would hate to spend the rest of my life not wanting to participate in said meals because all I could eat was a fucking breadstick.  Fuck that for a month, let alone for the rest of my life!   Some of us have better things to do then stay at home alone being thin. 

“I was glad to see the back of Easter this month, as it seems to have been hijacked by the greedy masses who regard it as a free pass to gorge on chocolate” – this response is short and sweet;  Don’t take any notice about what other people are doing at Easter, you stupid bitch.

“My husband of 5 years frequently tells me that if I put on weight he will divorce me” – surely by now Pascal (the horrifically long suffering OR equally as self indulgent, arrogant and vile husband) has worked out that Brick getting fat is the least of his problems whilst she still has a voice box and the ability to communicate?  She’s lucky he hasn’t disposed of her rake like body in the River Seine by now.

It’s now got to that inevitable point where I can barely be bothered to read any more.  She says to lose her puppy fat when she was 14 she spent the best part of a year only eating marmite on toast with no butter and when she was at college she lived on 1 packet of polos for breakfast and 1 for lunch, only stopping when her dentist told her about the damage she was doing to her teeth.  I guess Brick would rather have breath like a tramps armpit then be SHOCK HORROR, a size 12 or something?!  God damn she’s irritating.

She finishes off the article nicely with the most incredible statement from the entire article.  She says once every quarter she embarks on a low calorie diet that ensures a weight loss of half a stone, but coincidentally means she doesn’t have “the mental or physical fortitude to work”.  Is this woman on crack?!

I know she does this for the headlines, and I know people like me feed her (ha) sense of self worth and bank account, but this needs to be said.  Does she really think what she is saying is welcomed by other women, and a responsible way to live?  Surely being happy and trying to cut out a bit of the junk (but not too much, effectively eating whatever you want) is the healthiest way to live.  I would rather be out having a laugh at a meal with Brick sneering at me in the background, then laid up in bed too tired to move, but a size 6?  God I can’t believe the Daily Mail actually let this woman write on their website.  I know they are all for controversy but this entire article is self-deprecating to women, irresponsible and a disastrous move from a woman who other girls could look up to.   As much as the thought of her being a role model for anyone is inconceivable, i’m sure she is and due to this I have this one final comment:  she needs to learn to watch her mouth more than her waist line.

*eats gigantic cookie*.