Thursday 10 February 2011

Do My Little Kookie Dance

Hello kittens

I have realised that, the last post notwithstanding, my blog has become something akin to posting downward angled, pouty mobile phone photos of myself wearing far too much black eyeliner, surrounded by Twilight memorabilia on to
fan fic forums entitled 'I luv Edward Cullen more than u do... I can prove it cuz I cut myself and have tatz of his face on my skin to show him my luv'...

or somesuch...

In fact so insufferably self absorbed have I become in my rantings that even my 14 year old, desperately insecure, gawky, awkward self is cringing at the awfulness of it all...

So in my 30 year old, desperately insecure, gaw
ky and awkward fashion, I have decided to bloody well stop it!

Bring on the whimsy... awwwww FUCK yeah!!!!

Here goes....

Since we last touched base things have happened
... things that have made me pull this face...



Things that have made Ben pull this face...


It is important to note that these faces are not directly related to the same incident... though for comedy purposes, let's pretend they were :)

My birthday was smashing - although it does appear to now have been a very long time ago... so long in fact that in the ensuing 3 weeks - I seem to have become old... and thus, delightfully crotchety (it's delightful when you're old... just damned rude when you're young... I fucking love being old!)

The weekend saw the Lovely Mr Ben, The Boy and I hitting local popular watering hole, The Croft in order to conduct a social experiment where we attempted to fit in with the hipster kids ... and while the other two may just about be able to pull it off... largely because one of them has the face of a 12 year old and the other one is about 12 years old, I struggled a little to begin with... the first band was brilliant but their groupies, with their terribly fashionable, if a little stupid, hair and their incredibly tight, if a little sterilising, trousers did NOT look old enough to be in there... they should have been home, tucked up in bunk beds with Mr Men pyjamas and warm milk... not out drinking and partying and ceremoniously nodding their heads to the loud noises that their really rather talented musical deities were churning out... Or was it simply that I was now too old to be there... maybe I should have been home, tucked up in bed with a warm coco and an increasingly right wing periodical, bemoaning the youth of today...

This feeling persisted until I went outside for my first cigarette break of the evening, upon which I happened upon two trendy looking fellows in their late 20's who seemed to be loudly sharing my feelings... and as a consequence of the next few hours spent intermittently talking with them about kids and their silly hair cuts and generally acting like drunken (yet mature and sophisticated) bafoons, I felt much better about myself... ah collusion is a wonderful thing.

So... essentially I think what I'm trying to say is that I like being old... or at least older... and I think I'm looking forward to being even older...I don't like being grumpy... and I have lots of things to smile about... so I'm gonna...




Fuck you emo me... you've just been rabbit punched in the tit by all powerful Whimsical and Bawdy elderly me....Ha!!!


In the grand scheme of things, pretty good with my lot Pixie out