Dreams? Eat My Shorts

"Bollocks! Real life is gonna be rubbish after this!"

Dreams are complete dickheads. This morning I dreamt I was reunited with my bag, and I was marvelling at how everything was still there untouched. I felt frickin’ amazing, like when you can fly. That’s how much I love stuff.

I had to work at 9 for one hour (‘That’s not a job, that’s a hobby’), and then afterwards, I came home. Esther was still in bed.

“No!” she moaned, as I bounced in the doorway, invigorated by exercise, “I’ve only just got back to sleep. Go away!”

Resigning myself to either being bored or having a cheeky nap, I climbed in next to her.

The next thing I know, I was in Primark and was looking around for a nice cardy, when suddenly I could hear Rihanna singing on the next aisle. I couldn’t see her because the dressing gowns were in the way, but I knew it was her. She sounded amazing.

“WOW!” I though, I always miss these public appearances. She was singing ‘Love the Way You Lie’ but without Eminem. I was getting really into it, it was what people completely unlike me would call “Fierce”

But just as she was getting to the warbly bits that singers always do to ruin the song live, it went all wrong and out of tune, and I woke up and realised it was just a fat chav girl singing along to Primark.fm, and in fact I had fallen asleep standing up. Then I told Esther about it.

Then I woke up and told Esther about the dream and about telling her about it.

So not only was the dream annoying, the dream within the dream was a douchebag too. This wasn’t no 4 level Inception funhouse.

Yeah thanks a lot subconscious, you candy-snatching cretin.

"Ooh, your unconscious is schreckliche, baby"

Boring and Ugly: Slaves, Sweatshops and Stupid Comments

Still working on the bloody essay. Mid-thought, Esther texts me. “Ring me x” she says. What terrible thing has happened that means she can’t ring me? Is she face to face with a rapist?
I ring her. “Hello, I’m walking home with the wheelabout shopper and it’s really heavy, can you pull it up the hill for me?” she says, like butter wouldn’t melt.
Jesus wept. So, she texted me to ring her to get me to be her slave. That’s some convoluted colonial shit. The worse thing is, I did it, no questions asked…

"Thanks for the jeans, they must be really cool because people always call me 'cheeky' when I wear them"

Today I have been mostly wearing Primark skinny jeans, H&M socks and hoody, dad’s cast-off Irvine Welsh ‘FILTH’ t shirt, and T.J. Hughes undies. Only the best for me. Oh, and a clenched jaw thanks to Lady Gaga. That blind, one-armed child in the Primark sweatshop never knew I’d be wearing his creation. I should send him a Thankyou card with a picture of me wearing them. If he could see the fruits of his labour, he wouldn’t feel the pain so much.

It’s finally too warm to wear my leopard-print hat which has been my winter staple. I realised that I feel completely naked without it, and I will have to wean myself off it using smaller and smaller hats. In a month, I should be down to the level of a Jewish skull cap.

"Don't you wish your boyfriend was hot like me?"

Found a great Cary Grant quote before about being famous: “Everyone wants to be Cary Grant. Even I want to be Cary Grant.”

Imagine being a supermodel or famous actor, and yet you know that you never match up to the suave, articulate ideals you play on screen. How gutting would it be to be jealous of your own persona- “that bastard, he’s too flash for my liking”. That would never happen with me- I’m just not my type. I’d diss the me on screen so bad, he’d never want to leave the house again. Ha, that’d teach him. Me.

I love YouTube comments:

“she is a bitch FREEMASON hey rihanna i gota message for u u can hav the world to ur self but u are going to HELL!!!!!!!!!!! BRA BRA BRA” Not so much a threat, more a “So there” wimp out. And what’s with the lingerie?


“FUKIN FAT BITCH IM JAKIN OFF”. Someone needs the concept of flattery explained. And oversharing.


“her ass,pussy and tits are all i want! and i’m 13!” Hmm, what a man you’ll grow up to be…Or maybe he’s asking for her donkey, kitten and small garden bird??