Wednesday, 27 April 2011

Competitive nature and my freeking cowba- FRIEND Louise.

   Alot of people have this problem when approached with a challenge. I myself have this do. The most simple everyday tasks can become within seconds the most important thing in your life aslong as you beat whoever is doing the task with you. Examples of this: Running past a neighbour, losing weight, dancing, singing with a stranger drunkenly on the karaoke on a friday night, alot of things really. However, for me and my friend Louise, this is an entirely different thing. Which could be taken too seriously, but it hasn't fallen to a violent nature. Yet.
   Louise is a fairly small little thing. A grand height of 5 ft fuck all (I'm guessing 5 ft, if not 4 ft 11; She's a midget) and around a size 8. Due to not being able to see each other often enough we usually have our 1-2 time a month routines of going for lunch, going to the pub and having conversations other people wouldn't have in public. The most recent was how some Karma Sutra positions didn't make sence, the penis would never bend that way and some of that shit would seriously hurt your neck.
   These lunch dates are usually at a chinese buffet we go to, just for the icecream (and it's dirt cheap.)  However, for my size, I can eat some amount. It tends to scare people. I like this. I take pride in that shit. I'm not naturally good at many things, but by god I can fucking eat. This is where it all starts. Louise can eat more than I can. No toilet breaks (ew) inbetween, one sitting she could put anything out of business if she actually tried. And there is the kick in the face. She barely TRIES to outdo me. She just, can. So everytime we go out, I tend to starve myself from the day before in preparation. During lunch, I'll be midway through my 2nd plate, and then the horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach grows and settles in. I'm full. I need to puke. I can feel the food piled at the base of my throat ready to choke me. Looking over at Louise, I realise she's just sat down with her 3rd plate, still looking rather hungry. This is when the envy, then upmost hate settles in.
  "I need to fucking out eat this bitch."
   And so I'll get a third plate, eat through it like a trooper, then grab a forth. At this point I've fully accepted I'm about to eat myself to death and consider bringing up the conversation of 'when we die who would you give what to' scenario. But around this time, she begins to feel full, and there's a shine of hope I may have actually beaten here. Then I remember we've not had desert yet. Oh almightly mother of fuck. There's no getting out of that. And I admit defeat, and have the smallest amount of ice cream to comfort my defeat, which never helps and tips the scales to me waddling out of the door. So for the rest of the day, due to being over-competitive, I'm left feeling more than full, not eating for a while, sickness and physically waddling to the pub to drown my sorrows in alcohol.
    And that's how I managed to gain two stone over two years.

Wednesday, 30 March 2011

Group urinating and stage fright.

   I think I'm the only person in the world that has this problem. Well, problems. The first is people who go pee at the same time. I understand some females don't like going into pubs/clubs toilets alone due to "safety", but talking to your mate in the next cubical is just weird. I'm fairly certain your conversation can wait until you've finished urinating.
   Then, you have girls going into the same stall together...WHY?! That's just uncomfortable unless your holding her hair out the way for projectile vomit. Also, peeing with the stall door wide open is not acceptable. At all. It's not cool and I don't need to see your 'hairy beaver' empty it's vodka tummy bladder like there's no tomorrow. It just makes the whole room uncomfortable, it's not a case of being confident or 'it's natural' it's fucking disgusting and with a vagina like that love I wouldn't put it on display so I can feel sorry for the poor sap you pull later into the night and feel puke at the back of my throat after recalling the repulsive view. Here's £12.50 for a wax, atleast you have the arguement of being hygienic over your not so pretty genetelia. Yuck.
   Which then brings me to another point. Maybe this doesn't seem like an issue to most people, I can imagine guys high fiving peeing next to each other (no matter what the one stall rule is, if you're drunk, you're drunk) but if you're like me, it is. I get stage fright. By this, I mean if I have to pee, I find a stall far away from everyone else, wait for someone to use the handdryer or flush, then pee. Maybe it's strange being self consious at the thought your pee is too loud, but it's like coughing in a quiet room of people, you feel rude. But then, on a night out, you have people trying to speak to you, your mate demanding you MUST pee at the same time as them, people knocking on the stall door.
    "Sammy? Sammy? Is that you hen? Sammy? SAMMY GONNAE ANSWER ME?"
     I'm not this Samantha character you speak of love, but I am praying she speaks up soon because while my knickers are at my ankles in this situation I'm not going to call back that your beloved 3 stalls down and that you has the wrong chick. But this isn't just in public. This is at home too, the biggest culprit being my fucking Mother.  I say 'fucking Mother' because she never remembers my urinating shyness, and when she does, she finds it amusing. I'll be sitting there, waiting for my body to go into auto-release and it starts.
    "Ainsley-Ferin, are you hungry?"
     Oh fuck, I am hungry, not now not now not now!
     "Ainsley-Ferin! Are you in there?"
     "Are you ignoring me?"
     "I just asked if you were hungry don't moan."
     "MUM-oh my god. Yes, I'm hungry now go away!"
     "Aw ok, wait, is this bothering you?"
     "Mum don't do this."
     "I'll sing to calm you! I know you I walked with you once apon a dreeeeeeeeeeeeeeeam!"
     "MUM FUCK OFF!"
      You get the picture. She's evil. It's times like that I feel ready to man up, rip off the toilet seat and swing it off her napper. But then I remember, dear Amanda is built like a brick shit house and could kick her younger daughter's arse without trying. So I have yet to rip off the toilet seat and proceed. And alas I have to deal with this evil torture and natural hate of 'urinatinal shyness'. So please, be courtious on nights out, pee in one stall, ALONE and just wait for your friends to come out. Infact just don't speak to people doing pee pees. You evil bastard.

Sunday, 27 March 2011

First thing I hate: People reading on buses.

   Ok so it gives it away in the title. I fucking hate you, people who do this. Reason being what's been happening with me since I was 15-16 attending college. I'd get up in the morning, go for my bus, get on sit down and look all smug. This is me, big adult, out of school, on a bus at 7am with my normal clothes on like a mother fuckin' young adult and I was an equal among the mix of tired business folk, students, and old people who just don't understand things don't open like the crack of dawn like you do, go home and wait til 10am when the world you wish to see starts, moron. So while sitting there I started to notice a vital difference between me and those sitting on the bus around me. No ipods, no gameboys, mp3's of any sort, not even any yawning or talking to the eejit next to them to pass the time, no no no. They had books and newspapers. Suddenly feeling self consious, I stared at my ipod as if it was some evil disgusting weight holding me back from adulthood.
    So a week later, I once again got on the bus, minus my ipod, and grabbed a newspaper from the beginning of the bus. Once again, I was among equals. I was a big girl, and I had my goddamn newspaper. However began the problem. The bus was so bumpy I could never finish one line of a paragraph I was pretending to give a fuck about. Since my low attention span doesn't allow me to pretend I'm doing something, I suddenly began to miss my ipod and solitaire. But no one else had been effected by these bumps? They all sat there, reading away like the smug fucking pricks they were, as if they had some sort of super enhanced character recognition I lacked due to being a younger human. I wouldn't accept this. Was I on a bus full of robots? Brainwashed by cheap coffee? Or maybe it was their better eyesight?
   And so the week after that ordeal I had bought glasses. Still no change. They had to have been robots. The best way to test this was to draw in the condensation on the window to see if there was any reaction. At first it was silly things like faces, houses, hearts, little fuzzy gremlin like monsters I pictured sitting under the seats of buses using people as puppets just for the sake of my sanity not being the only person in the world and to lead me to believe I wasn't alone. Lying pricks. But, then, a reaction came forth when I drew a male appendage one morning, like I used to do to see if my teachers had actually marked my homework properly and weren't actually ignoring me, assuming I got everything wrong. A robot tapped my shoulder. I turned to face him shyly.
   "Don't you think that's a little inappropriate?"
   There was the answer, staring me in the face. The whole time it never fully occured to me this could be this answer. They were boring. Boring people who pretend to read on the bus because they're boring and are content sitting being bored with boring people pretending to read boring newspapers and cult books that were sold in the top 10 cheap section of HMV which are all films. Boring.
    But this hasn't stopped them. Now, 4 years on, I go on a bus, WITH MY MOTHER FUCKING IPOD, LIKE A GROWN UP NONE THE LESS, buying an adult day ticket, sitting my ass down, and I still see people pretending to read. Maybe it's jealousy? Maybe I'm jealous I now have to wear designer glasses I waste my money on in spec savers in some hope that I look that little bit more intellectual? Well, no. No to you people who read on buses undisturbed. I am not jealous. You, my good sirs and sirsettes (yes it's a word, piss off) are cunts. Evil, boring cunts who think drawing penis' on public surfaces, math books, hands, everything isn't funny, who don't own transportable music or gaming devices, buy cult books which have related movies in HMV's top 10 cheap ass sticker section, take the free newspaper on the bus to read about things that a boring and you don't give a fuck about pretending to read because you won't spend 30p on a bogus newspaper like The Sun which atleast is entertaining with it's untrue stories and Dear Deidre.

Fuck you.