theres things i want, theres things i think i want....

and coming straight in at the top spot...

1. alexandra burke to grow/buy/weave on a fringe.


quicksticks.

before her hairline reaches the nape of her neck.

2. trying to find this following item is as hard as trying to track down where robert pattinson is hiding from his crazy freakish fans. i am not one of them. ahem *cough cough* ANYWAY...


3. call it what you will: primarni/p-boutique/primes/primarche/prida, we have all bought something/ basket loads of primark stuff. we've trundled round, flooring fellow shoppers along the way, trying to find the last size 8 in the dress that EVERYONE has, only to be confronted with a beat up size 16 with a broken zip (but you take it anyway cos its only 30p). i like the garms, i really like the shoes although they have a taken a dip in goodness recently as they seem to think £2.99 plastic fluorescent green, toe separating, multi strapped sandals are acceptable. AND deem it ok to charge 15 quid for a pair of gladiator sandals. anything more than a fiver is a bump. however, primarni jewellery is a no no for me. i'm peeved at buying a set of bangles, half of which are averagely ok, the other half shedding the gold covering onto my arm only to be left with what now looks green...toxic almost. so i'm branching out. i'm going top of the market. top of the bangle chain to this...


its 400 smackers mind, so realistically i ain't purchasing it because i've got rent to pay and beer to buy. but you catch my drift? i want to start learning to invest in nice fings, rather than looking at my bleak bank balance at the end of the month and having nothing to show for it but a shrunken bobbly floral dress and a de-sequinned pair of hotpants that now, after one wash, resembles a thong.

4. last but not least.

not least AT ALL.

the abolishment of people wearing those ridiculous clear glasses. your eyesight is crystal clear. don't lie.

it is unnecessary. and really really annoying. and the joke of it is, is that the even more irritating twats are wearing them...WITHOUT LENSES! are you joking me?! its incomprehensible to me as to why they would want to partake in this pathetic 'trend' in the first place but then to my amazement, they think it's cool. to look budget and broke.

YOU ARE JUST WEARING AN EMPTY FRAME YOU DICK.


it's just calling out for a double jook up in the eyes isn't it?

"i don't see nothin' wrong, with a little bump n griiiind"

so the sun finally decided to put his flat cap on this weekend and send us some rays. about time afer an absolute arctic friendly winter. but people need to chill juuuuust a little bit. i'm down for sporting the sunnies, it's bright and without them i do spend most of the summer in a constant state of squinting, worrying that if the wind changes my face will actually stay looking like a tard. but i wouldn't say it was exactly the time for flip flops, board shorts (not acceptable in any season really) sun hats and for the lily whites out there, the slapping on of factor 50 before morning has broken. it's mid march. it's still chapping. you are not going to frazzle. stop being extra, put on your north face fleece and take a brisk walk to the newsies and pick up your milk. you will make it back alive with all layers of skin intact. christ.

i'm sorry but you are equally as annoying as those people who proclaim they are: 'a wheat intolerant, bread intolerant, dairy intolerant vegan veggie who can only eat gluten free tofu quorn sausages and sunflower seeds'.

GET A GRIP. because we all know you secretly eat out at pizza express, get tucked in head first into a creamy lasagne dish and mop up the dregs with the last of your garlic bread and dough balls.

anyway, back to the weekend. i felt i used it quite productively. yeah... no, lets not actually include saturday. that was a complete write off as per, except for getting dragged from my toasty warm pit by the boy to go and watch arsenal in the dolphin pub in hackney. it looked so unfamiliar in the daytime, complete with a crazy half deaf pirate looking irish bar man who took about an hour to make me a concoction of lemonade and lime. believe me, i wasn't ready to let in any more alcoholic beverages into my already JD fuelled bloodstream from the night before. i am alright for a top up. the thought of alcohol was making me heave and i didn't think it'd be nice for me to puke up my breakfast (eaten at around 4pm) into the basket of bar snacks nearby containing a mixture of stale bacon flavoured crisps and blatent leftover crimbo nuts. as the final whistle blew, we stumbled back home, my boyfriend leaving me to suffer a somersaulting tummy as he pissed off to go and pack for his skiing trip to france.

prick.

despite all of this though, this standard saturday feeling was a result of a super friday night out at bounty:



we walked in, pushing past the heaving crowd of indiesters bopping around to the smiths probably and stumbled upstairs to who'd have thought it, an old skool r'n'b night on the top floor of the old blue last! i was in my element, shackin out to koffee brown, kp & envyi, bit of mase and diddy, jagged edge, next and some crackers from aaliyah with not a whisper from chipmunk or tinchy! bliss. as the nostalgia was beginning to build, my bank balance was taking a tumble at the bar...

the mini stage area welcomed a variety of people with the only similarity between them being: they were all waste. we had the girl from the city, who'd blates been boozing since the end of her half day at work, frantically trying to grab her friends to join her but unfortunately was quickly shooed off and was the star of many an embarrassing photo instead, a lady (of the night), who felt it necessary to writh around the floor in a neon pink lycra dress, a black thong (that may aswell have had flashing fairy lights sewn onto it, it was that visible) topped off with a delightful pair of knee high patent dm's. so as you can tell, it was a mixed crowd of bump and grinders.

all in all, it was a good night. some old skool slow jams to booty wine to and a hefty amount of party bangers to...i don't know what actually, just definitely not any kind of body popping.

for those of you who missed out, here's a piece of nostalgia cake you can munch on, cos i'm well and truly stuffed:

pop it like it's hot

i've just got back from a blinding weekend in the haven that is centre parcs with my uni gals and currently sporting a shitty toni and guy esque lopsided fringe, as my booze induced double vision on saturday night advised me it would be ok to give it a little trim with the kitchen scissors. oh dear. you know the ones where you see 55 year old women bussin a diagonal fringe starting at the left temple, cascading down to the right cheek bone, gourdy blocks of peroxide blonde highlights, a mullet at the back and heart shaped tramlines shaved in on one side having been told they look a spit of rihanna.

when in fact they look like shirley from easties.


i'm also croaking from copious amounts of bitching, non stop gossiping from friday night through to monday afternoon, have trapped wind from not wanting to add to the contamination already built up in the lodge from boozy poos, farts and burps due to the hench amount of food and vino we demolished and now back at work. hurrah.

but. i was greeted with some gourmet popcorn corns and a smooch from my luverly boyfriend as welcome home presents. i'd like to say i should go away more often but it turns out he spent most of the weekend in either a grimy drunken haze or was just straight hungover, has somehow bruised his spine and is currently walking around like the hunchback of notre dame. so then again, maybe not.

anyhoo, as i'm enjoying a well earned bear hug with him, catching up, well, me relaying jokes and tales from the weekend which he politely laughs at even though i know he's thinking "i guess i had to be there", bless, bombarding him with my pics i've already uploaded to facey after being home for only 30 seconds, we get sidetracked and our attentions turned to mr williams. mr pharrell williams. his vid pops up on youtube...and i'm mesmerised. in fact i think i repeated the words the boy says whenEVER he sees megan fox.

"words just can't describe".

so simply because he is a beaut and has swagger for DAYS, here he is in all his "i love myself, but hey, i am pharrell. so i can" glory.

enjoy.



ahhhh.
i am GOOD.
great actually.