Parenthood-ism

You can't help thinking about the future sometimes and when it comes to myself, things like jobs, houses, wedding dresses and kids wander through my head on a daily basis. I'm very big on the daydreaming. I wonder how and when I am going to have children, what I'm going to call them (had a discussion about this the other night - what the fuck is wrong with James and Lucy!?) and what they are going to look like (in this case I'm particularly worried that they are going to get all my curses, such as the chubbiness, the humongous calves and the boring hair).

Anyway.

Last night I dreamt that I was heavily preggers. It felt a bit wierd - sort of like a loaf of bread around my ovary area and a little bit like I needed to do a number two. Scary. Very scary.
Due to things like money, maturity and general behaviour I'm quite sure that it is going to be a good few years before I start popping kids through my veejayjay. Or at least I hope so, because I have a feeling that if I had one, I'd loose it.

I hate to say it but Bin Laden's got a point

In his latest video, broadcasted on Al-Jazeera yesterday, terrorleader Usama Bin Laden surprisingly speaks out against global warming. He blames the US (however, not so surprising) and their control of the world economy for the ruin of our climate and encouraged a boycott of all things American.

I'm not a big fan of the guy, really really not, but when he blames Dubya for stalling the process by not signing the Kyoto protocol, he is not completely out of order. Because; if Georgie had signed it, is it not possible that the Copenhagen meeting might have had a better outcome(As the US did NOTHING as usual - sorry Obama, you know I love you dude, but you just don't deserve that Peace Prize)?

You can take the girl out of Soho...

... but you can't take Soho out of the girl!

There is no way of explaining how much I frikkin love my job. I'm back at LAB again, at least for a while and dear lord it feels good! Payday Friday after Christmas and I hadn't carried a tray for over two months. My muscles are still aching (you want toned arms? start carrying a tray full of cocktails over your head for eight hours straight - that'll do it, believe me!) and my feet are sore but the worst pain is in my stomach for laughing my bum-bum off all night. I've missed my boys and girls.

The LAB team giving Gill a send-off last summer

Quote of the night (add scottish accent for full effect):
"I watch a lot of strap-on porn"

Happy weekend everyone!

Last night was spent roamin around London's East End trying to forget the fact that I am getting nowhere with my scholarship application (and throwing up outside the Hoxton Hotel at around midnight if I am not mistaken). Not exactly the best way to deal with the problem, but at least the drinks were nice.

The subs at The Independent clearly had a few last night as well - The dead socialite was surely not 72, but 27 and people and things from my home land are Swedish not Sweidsh. Jeeez...

On the subject of Peaches

Here we go: someone who's not got the body or likeability of northern saint Cheryl soddin Cole gets her kit off and the slagging match begins!

Give Peaches some credit.Indeed, she is not exactly something out of the skinny Bible, nor has she the best reputation (keep in mind this is the daughter of Paula Yates, people!). But - it's actually not that bad. And at least she's doing something other than falling out of nightclubs with powdered nostrils.

Surprisingly, as with all events like this one - it's the girls who are the quickest to throw stones at her. We are all such jealous bitches arent we?

look, look, look you can almost see a teeny tiny hint of something on her belly. yeey, go normal girl!

Oh come on, seriously!?

Yes. I know. I suck. But there was moving, and then not moving and being a drama queen and Sweden and Christmas and Cambodia and Manchester and moving for real and starting uni and... well a thousand other reasons really. But yes, I am aware of the fact that I have not exactly been nurturing my writing skills for quite some time now. Bad, bad, bad.
But hey, what can ya do, you all have to accept things. For example; I accept that I can no longer fit perfectly into a size 10 and that I will not get to 80 wpm in shorthand without practicing. I also accept that I will never marry neither Danny Jones nor Johnny Depp, however reluctantly I do do that.
So I guess all I can say is... sorry?