dim3 ak7ion

dim3 ak7ion

Hallelujah it's Friday

Dorritos Collisons

Numb bums

I went to watch Stanley Kubrick's 'Dr Strangelove' at Somerset House but i think i spent most of the night a watching a giant wall clock. It was raining and we were sitting on concrete so any movie would have struggled to be enjoyable but one that was made 50 years ago had about as much chance as Stephen Hawkings doing the running man . There was some vaguely interesting bits but I was hardly on the edge of my rock hard seat. We did score some hot free ponchos though and i may now have piles!! bonus.

Even better than the real thing

How crap is my lunch

If you want to see the true cost of getting an awesome apartment with your boyfirend in west london, look at my lunch.

In the light of day would you still make hay?

It doesn't really bring back any great memories but it still had me laughing.

I can say from my relationship pedestal that it's been a long time since my last walk of shame. But recently i stayed at my boyfriend's flat after a wedding. The next day all i had to wear was my short dress and heals complimented with mascara residue under my eyes. We went to the pub for the hair of the dog and i got really paranoid that people were thinking that i had been picked up at a Mc Irish bar the night before. They may have suspected that my boyfriend was just escorting me up to bus stop or using the promise of a drink to lure me out of his house. I kept trying to hold hands with him to make it look like we had known each other longer than 7 hours but my boyfriend picked up on my anxieties and kindly start to pinch my bum just to add the diamante cherry on top of my slapper hell.

Knicker shame

Today i am wearing a pair of red boy-leg knickers that have a Santa face embroidered on the front. They're a classic example of novelty knickers and I am not sure how they managed to escape my recent mass knicker redundancy. I let them go if they showed any of the following:
1. Were an off white greyish yellowish colour
2. Had elastic coming away from the top
3. Had childish flower patterns they made them look like panties for peados
4. Went over my navel
5. Had stains on them
6. Had fabric that was corroding possibly the result of what my friend calls 'Acid Vag'

Defos, maybe

I just read message from my friend today and I felt a bit angry at her over use of 'defos'. No ones time is that valuable that they can't type the extra 'initely'.

Poo stand off

Today i needed to go for a poo so i made my way to the toilet but there was already someone in there. My plan was to just wait till they left before i could go. As i was sitting on the loo though i realized I was engaged in a poo stand off. The person in other cubicle was also waiting for me to leave so they could go for a poo. I really needed to go but it seemed like my opponent had real staying power. I could of laid toilet paper in the bowl to muffle the sound but this was a risky option in case i farted and blew my cover. i gave it another couple of minutes before admitting defeat. I flushed toilet to create the illusion i had been for a wee, then left the toilet.

What are you so scared of?

I have a fear of confrontation. I would run a mile to avoid going head to head with someone. I will constantly put myself out to avoid having to say no to someone. Even though i realize that if i say no nothing bad will happen i still can't get past the fear. Fear is a tool of survival, you're scared of things that could eat you. But my friends can't eat me so why am i scared of them?

It's learnt behaviour as i feel like i spent my the first half of life telling my mum to chill out. My sister is exactly the same but possibly worse, i think as the older sister she had the added worry of looking after her out of control sister (me). I am not angry at my childhood though, there's worse things to inherit.

I don't suit this fear though and i want to take it back to the shop. I think the only way to get over something is confront it. Like when you shitting your self that someone is in your wardrobe the only way to get any sleep is to check your wardrobe is empty. That's what i need to do. I have to confront my fears and start telling people to f*ck off.

Battle scars

On Saturday night i went to Shunt bar in London Bridge tube station. It was brilliant, like an art gallery with Stella on tap. I had to bail just as the experimental jazz was in full scatty boo doop swing. One of the joys of living where i do is i have to often make like Cinderella and get the last train to Hayes.

So i climbed on board with my Magners concealed in my handbag, thanks for that Boris. By the time i got off at Clock house i really needed a piss, thanks for that Magners. So i waited for the platform to clear before i hunted for a secluded spot. My bladder would only allow me to hunt within a 2 meter radius so i had to make do a garden of some council flats. I needed to go super bad so it was over real quick and because i wasn't on a hill it didn't get on my shoes.

It had been a pretty successful wee until i tried to pull up my pants without having to expose myself by standing up. I stumbled into the waiting spikes of some thorny foliage and got three big scratches across my bum. Luckily alcohol had provided me with enough sedatation not to feel anything.

I just tried to take some photos in the toilets of my scratched bum. Someone saw me go in to cubicle though and would of heard my camera phone flashing, she probably thought i was taking photos to send in to an online website for people with embarrassing medical problems. Brilliant. I decided against the photos anyway, i know what happens when you put your bum on the internet. Instead i put a photo up of the culprit.

I can't write on Fridays

I have a window of about 2 hours in the morning where i can focus for longer than two minutes. Already while trying to write this I've refreshed my facebook twice to see if anyone has uploaded some boring photos. I am fighting a losing battle. I am going to the pub.

I am going through a bad period

I had to apologize to people at work today. For the past two days hormones have taken over my body. They took over my emotional frontal lobe and went joy-riding. I think they may have left me alone but it could be too early to say for sure.

I haven't been very nice to my poor boyfriend either. It's lucky that i have nice tits otherwise i would be a goner. I ranted for about a good solid two hours on Tuesday night. I just felt so angry at everything.

On the up-side i can blame my belly on bloating and i don't give a shit about eating three packets of crisps in one sitting and also it signals i am not with child. I think the jury is out on wither Eve did bad with the apple.

Field of dreams

I had a pretty easy ride at Glastonbury. It only rained once but that was enough to give me a taste of what a sess-pit it must have been last year. It was really a Glastonbury that belonged to all those who had battled through the mud before me but i just rolled on up and enjoyed every last ray.

We missed most of the bands we'd circled in our programmes but i saw all the acts i really wanted to see. All the others i just knew one of their songs and i couldn't be bothered walking for 15 minutes then waiting for 30 minutes so i could sing along for 3 minutes.

The thinking mans Dolce and Gabbana

Dutch fashion duo Viktor and Rolf are currently showing off their gear at the Barbican in a display that would give Stace's stall in the square a run for it's money. The collection is housed is a massive Doll's house.  All the dolls exact mini-me of the models who originally wore the clothes on the catwalk down to the over-sized heads due to not eating.

The whole exhibition has a very alice in wonderland vibe which would have Gwen Stefani drooling all over her Harajuku girls, but what I was really impressed with was the thinking behind all the ranges. They must spend hours toiling away on their PowerbooksTM in their minimal studio apartment in an old windmill, wearing there clever (dutch) clogs .