"pass the twiglets mum"

regrettably, i am going out to face the treacherous icy streets of central london tonight because me being me, have left my christmas shopping til the very last minute. not all my fault though, lets all remember that i was living the bum life throughout the whole of november with not a dollar to my name, surviving on iceland chicken kievs and chips, scrimping (saving?? pah.) and admittedly wearing the most OFF KEY outfits of late, due to not being able to fund a much needed wardrobe spruce. so basically, being more brass than i've ever been since i got back from travelling, i haven't been able to join the organised early december crimbo shoppers. my nightmare begins tonight.

the green is now chilllllin in my bank, after asking for an early advancement on my wage. no doubt not for long as i will go and blitz the visa (electron...sssshhh) later on, hunting down tat for my grandma's mantlepiece, hand cream for my mum who will say "oooo thats lovely darling" when she unwraps it, dashes it amongst the heap of cheapo PDSA charirty shop wrapping paper i bought yesterday and then say "it must've got chucked out in the clear up, sorry love". smashing. don't worry, it only cos me 30 QUID. although it will probably be the same amount of monies she will have spent on pink 'princess' pyjamas, strawberry smelling bubble bath (i have showers) and a pair of christmas themed earrings for me... that will inevitably set up home in my junk box/ make shift coffee table in my room. tit for tat and all that.


you can't beat crimbo day though, up at 8am still, cups of tea and shortbread, my mum organising where everyone sits, who can open what, me getting told off for not reading the labels and occassionally opening someone elses present due to my greedy inner spoilt child self rearing its head on the day of giving, presents done, shite but great TV goes on, box of maltesers/ tube of twiglets are opened and everyone tucks in... all done by 10am. beastly.

i won't go into what i will be eating mammouth amounts of all day because you'd probably be sick. straight into your quality street tin. that you currently have your hand in, searching around for the toffee button/ the purple one but all you've been left with are the butters coconut and coffee flavoured ones?? bastards eh? so selfish. its alright though, they'll get their comeuppance when you have munched your way through the galaxy truffles, maltesers, twix ones and left them with the bountys and milkyways in the celebrations tin. standard. dont RAMP with me and my sweets.

so merry crimbles everyone, maybe we will have snow on the 25th...and then moan thats its just way too cold, snowy and icy cursing the day we were all "dreaming of a whiiiiite christmas".

sisters from next misters

so this weekend i will be seeing these girls above (bar the ginger one cos shes on the other side of the world....literally. in south korea with hubby) by the way, don't watch the gully background of this picture in stoke newington, the scattered litter most probably from the chicken stop/ chicken shack/ dirty chicken place opposite my old flat and a sneaky peek of the big green dustbin, that was usually filled with stuff from washing machines to car parts and maybe even a used shank innit. no seriously, on my first week moving in after going for a meander down church street, i came back to a cordoned off flat, 2 ambulances, the five's and a man being hoifed into the back of the van. welcome to stokey. found out from (one of my soon to be BFF's) the guy in zelal newsagent opposite who filled me in with all the gory details about a guy getting stabbed. PLEASANT.

so yeah, back to my girls. we catch up on the regs, i go oop north and see them (in places i've not heard of before) and down south (to places i've not heard of before) and they come see me in the big smoke. i'm the worst host though, never having any food, or places to sleep.

"there were 3 in the bed and the little one said...can you get the fuck out theres not enough space for you AND your arse"

so definitely not hostess with the mostess.

i leave that to sazzle who sorts us out with munch, pj's, socks (half of my sock drawer doesn't actually belong to me) keeps us organised and in order when we're all staggering from pub to bar to kebab house to toilet bowl.

lets just say this weekend won't break the mould. which is exactly what i want.