tumble outta bed, and stumble to the kitchen...

Saturday, March 31, 2007

Howdy.

Just checking out Dolly ont t'internet. The lady who's breasts could make Jordan weep more than her wonky child, has not done too bad for herself. She's had a hard life y'know.

Not only does she have her own Theme Park; 'DollyWood', her own WaterPark; 'Splash Country', her own chain of rodeo themed resturants 'Dolly's Dixie Stampede' and this:

http://www.imaginationlibrary.com/ - this is brillaint.

As well as forking out on a few huge purchses such as a rollercoaster, a big waterslide and a army of pre-pubescent Americans snotting into burgers and making the fat dangerous, she marketing imagination, and not only that a whole library of the stuff.

You dont even have to think for yourself anymore. Visit the Dolly library.

You think Richard Branson's Virginess has taken over every element of everything, Dolly's marketing imagination- genius.

The corporate bitch

There's not a word that I comprehend

Wednesday, March 28, 2007

Have you ever felt so happy that you beam?

Have you ever got those tiny knots in your belly when you think of someone...

Have you ever had the feeling when its all been taken away and your left feeling rather empty, a head full of thoughts and wonderin what changed?

Aswell as going a bit emo with all this I'd much rather be having my not so long ago happy thoughts and a smile on my face... wouldn't you?

** i can see your scalp...

Saturday, March 24, 2007

There's a number of things that make me smile to myself during my day to day doings and happenings...

These tiny things you see that makes you happy to be living on this little planet.

One of these marvels is combovers.

The damm fine hair style where on which the wearee grows one side of his (or her) hair long on one side then flips it over to cover his balding bonce.

These can truly be amazing, and do really fool the passer by into thinking that the person does have a florishing full head of hair.

Does it bollocks, but it does make you wonder why the hell they think it does.

And who in the bejesus thought of this "foolproof" way of covering baldness? Did one bloke wake up in the morning and his head fell that way. Or did the dog do it? One day while crying stroking his shiny head, all broken and depressed because he was 25 and the impeeding baldness wouold defo put a stop to his sordid one night stands, deurchary and infedelity, he stroked his spaniel the wrong way and though genius! Lo and behold the comb over was born.

There has to be some denial in there somewhere. Why not just shave it all off and every summer buy special sun tan cream to stop your head from burning. Because they have pride in the hair, they want to keep the hair, the hair is the man and all that. Im sure if they chopped a bollock off theyd sweep the other one over and create a new pair.

Here is a few of my favourite:

He looks like he'd make your children self harm when they're older.

More of a 'comb under over fuck it no-one will notice'

Watersports beginner

Saturday, March 17, 2007

It's something i havn't done before. It's not something I'd ever even thought of gettin into before, but i was about to be thrown into the world of watersports quite by accident.

it all started one late summers evening....on the bus to Fallowfield.

I had just finished a days work and i boarded a rather empty double decker a la magique. I sat myself down next to the window (but not on one of those high set of seats) and buried my head in that weeks issue of Closer.

About 2 stops later on Oxford Road a quite obviously dunk fella got on the bus, and from his selection of empty seats he parked his sweaty, alcohol filled arse next to me.

Initially I wasn't too bothered by the squiffy bloke sat next to me, until he started to fall asleep and do that crazy thing where your head falls just as your nodding off and your sub-consious kicks in and pops it back up again. Only this was happening right on my shoulder. Each time the bloke woke up he looked suprised to find out he was sat on a bus, as if he wasn't expecting to be on public transport.

With the annoyance carrying on on my shoulder i used my magazine as a barrier between me and the drunk. A cunning anti- fat bastard device if i may say so myself, yet somehow didn't block the reek of wee that this guy was carrying around with him.

So Ive got a fat pissed old fart drueling on my shoulder, with a popular trashy mag wedged by his face, breathing through my nose.

Now it may have been the actual odour of wee, or the dewy summer air, but i felt a few trickles on my Birkenstocked little feet. Nah, it couldn't be, i thought and carried on reading about Jordans tubby kid who'd took another tumble.

No, yes, yes, yup yes this guy was weeing, he was weeing right there, he was soiling himself on the bus, sat right where he was, his expression not changing, no sigh of relief, nope just having a wee. ON MY FEET.

There was no way i could move, he was fat, I was only armed with Closer, and as the wee tricked down the bus he stood up and got off. As though it had never happened..

There was no way i was going to sit there slightly damp, with me toes squelching of someone elses wee.

I got off the bus 3 stops early and sprinted home.

When i arrive home i jumped in the shower and cried like Ace Ventura.

This happened a year ago, and i saw the bloke on the bus yesterday, i felt i should've returned the favour....