Well, where do I start?
I am going to tell you about this rather self gratifying start to my week. I know it is Wednesday but for me, being a part timer in the work force of late, who cares what day it is? Today is my Monday for this week anyway.
I have recently been accepted on http://beautifulpeople.com/, I am not sure if I have created this link sucessfully I could surprise myself here. If you can not use the link you know what to do.... No not shove it up your bottom - Just search baby search. Ok back to the point.
This is a sort of dating service on line, not one like eharmony where you have to fill in an extensive questionnaire which eventually after four hours tells you your worse fears ie. you are not suited to anyone other than Charles Manson. Where you type in your intimate statistics and keep them under wraps for future reference until you decide ten emails between you and a complete psycomaniac is sufficient to let him know you a seniour citizen, bancrupt and had a failed sex change some 20 years ago. No no no. Beautiful People.Com lets it all hang out. There are no limits to what you can tell your perspective life time sole mate. Your income, weight (mind you, they are generous on that. Between 140 and 300lbs is the tick box - lotta scope don't ya think?), wether you live in a mansion, loft apartment, penthouse or project! (UK readers:project = worse than a council house). You do actually have a choice whether to disclose your earnings and the material aspects of your life, but with a web site called beautiful people don't you just know most will tell all? That is soley based on the fact that beautiful people entering a site namidly so are in fact vain.
I will stand up for some of us exclusive members because we are not all vein are we? What are we then?
The psychology of this concept is very mind stimulating. The main premis for you getting accepted on the site is that you are considered beautiful enough to get voted in by existing members. So you have to post a picture*. It is all very superficial, as the wonders of modern technology can probably super impose your face on to let's say J Lo's body.
A brief description of your unique selling points and your aims, goals and wants in life can be added to the profile (I just gave this blog address and then I know they are psycho if they continue communication!). Most men however tend to write that they are looking for that special someone in their life who will share all their sucess at being drop dead gorgeous and accompany them on their worldly travels. It is actually on the same wave length of the Miss World monalogue. You know the one - I wanna be happy, help sick kids and jet set around the globe. May be they should put WANTED VAIN BIATCH WHO WILL STROKE MY EGO AS MUCH AS I'LL STROKE HERS.
Maybe, just maybe I am being a little synical. I have after all been voted in and am just sorry for you ugly people who don't have a cat in hell's chance of becoming a member. No seriously, I am interested in this internet chat/communication senario. Even us beautiful people are to busy or self obsessed to trapes through endless pubs and clubs to find that Mr Right. And in this quest why not just elliminate all the pig ugly fuckers! ;)
*Please note a cleavage shot eventually got me voted in - My full length beach body shot did not, however I am half woman half horse after all!)
Wednesday, September 28, 2005
Monday, September 26, 2005
I Crave to Rave
I still need a cig - Just in case anyone in cyper space gives a shite. I will not give in. The next best thing is a cup of tea - Off to put the kettle on x
No Smoke Without Fire
It has been 8 weeks exactly since I gave up smoking...
It is hellish...
I want a cig NOW...
It is all I think about for hours on end...
Why is it so hard?
Why do I want to eat anything containing over 10g of fat?
Crave a carrot for fucks sake...
Just bought a size 14 pear of jeans.
My life is over.
I wish could just have one cig and it all be ok - Back to 8 weeks of not having one, but I know the dreaded weed will recapture my life.
It is bad enough being fat, not having a cig but to get a big fat red zit on the chin - You just don't need it, never gonna want it, cann't help but squeeze it.
Thank the Aussies for tea Tree oil, what would we do without it.
Am I bored and fed up or what?
No - I JUST WANT A BLOODY CIGARETTE
My unborn, unconcieved child you are so fortunate to have such a caring mother.
(please excuse any typos or spelling errors - You know how conciencious I am, my spell check has failed to work. I may now have to launch the computer out of the nearest window - lack of niccotine will be the cause)
It is hellish...
I want a cig NOW...
It is all I think about for hours on end...
Why is it so hard?
Why do I want to eat anything containing over 10g of fat?
Crave a carrot for fucks sake...
Just bought a size 14 pear of jeans.
My life is over.
I wish could just have one cig and it all be ok - Back to 8 weeks of not having one, but I know the dreaded weed will recapture my life.
It is bad enough being fat, not having a cig but to get a big fat red zit on the chin - You just don't need it, never gonna want it, cann't help but squeeze it.
Thank the Aussies for tea Tree oil, what would we do without it.
Am I bored and fed up or what?
No - I JUST WANT A BLOODY CIGARETTE
My unborn, unconcieved child you are so fortunate to have such a caring mother.
(please excuse any typos or spelling errors - You know how conciencious I am, my spell check has failed to work. I may now have to launch the computer out of the nearest window - lack of niccotine will be the cause)
A Girls Night out in Leeds (check Richie in the back)
Yippe - Finally worked this out now, it has only taken a year but since I have been out of work the past few weeks I have finally had the time and inclination to figure the posting of pictures and adding text at the same time. Can I just say thanks to (in order on picture), Leanne, Kathryn Sutcliffe (nee Knight), Kathryn Brant and Nicky Watson for coming out in Leeds on Sat - I had a wicked time girls - Even though I allowed a husband and a boyfriend to attend we still managed to pull of a girlie suaree.Richard thanks for puking in da club - It meant I could get a decent night's kip at your house without fearing for my best mate , your lovely wife having to clear up after you all night.
Finally figured out why Leanne never seems to get hammered - 'Cause she is tending to your near death experiences such as vomit and choke and die.
Look at Leanne holding me back so I do not fall into the road! Just noticed that. She is a darling.
Monday, September 19, 2005
Can you Adam and Eve it?
To all you transatlantic Bloggers the title of this means "Can you believe it" (Cockney rhyming slang). I am not gonna let you find out what it is you are supposed to believe until I have the answer - All will be revealed - Actually I think this top is revealing enough don't you?
Sorry if I am being weird PMT is probably the rational explanation but it will all become clearer in a few days xx
Wednesday, September 14, 2005
Dermalogica Facial
Hello - I know I have to finish the Debagging post - However the story ends with me unexpectedly exposing my pants to a gang of twenty 15 year olds - So I am sure none of you are interested!
There are more important issues to blog on about today and I must say I feel that I have missed years of blissful gorgeousness by means of facials just by not having the savvy to go and get one.
It is not hard - It was however a special 20% off offer at my local hair salon Aphrodite (pronounce like "Miss Dynamiteee" for full effect) which lured me onto the beauticians couch. That, paired with four, yes four zits on my chin; which is four more than I have ever had the pleasure of wearing in my life, is what made me rush along the high street and book my self in.
I must say my friend Sarah has mentioned these extravagance before but did not exaggerate the fact that they were an essential part of a ladies life at our age. I will be reprimanding her for not handcuffing me to her fake Prada handbag and dragging me down to her old local spa haunt Harvey Nicks. All I kept thinking of was calling my mother and demanding she had one NOW, bless her I have inherited the constant face muscle tension from her and feel that it would decelerate the aging process if she immediately dropped everything (like feeding her 20 odd cats) and get into the city to have a facial MOT.
How refreshing it was to be massaged - face neck and collar bones, the latter region stirred up some sexual tension however, and I was already planning my next move... Bag a guy who has beautician qualifications. Foreplay would never be the same again, mind you I am off to San Fran for 3 months, maybe there will be plenty of guys with such attributes on their CV's; however, to find one who ticks the hetrosexual box too could prove difficult.
I was laying down with my shirt off, bra straps to the sides and hair wrapped up in some sort of bandanna and the fun began. A simple cleansing, scrubbing, massage then scrubbing, essential oils, lemon grass if I am not mistaken and massage. The finale was a slapping on of thick gooey moisturiser on the face and some lighter but equally stickey stuff on the eyes, massage then I was left to relax for about 10 mins.
This was the hard bit. I find if very difficult to relax as I am a bit hyper to say the least. Thoughts that came flashing in front of my moisture laden eyes were, get the sofa for sale add up in the PO, what exactly could I make for dinner using an aubergine? And how many cats exactly does my mother have? By the time all these thoughts had cumulated into a big blob of blue light gyrating in front of my eyes, there was a big light and "right that will be £30 please".
So there you have it £30 worth it I must say, but I still have no idea what to do with a aubergineen? Any suggestions please send a stamped addressed postcard.
There are more important issues to blog on about today and I must say I feel that I have missed years of blissful gorgeousness by means of facials just by not having the savvy to go and get one.
It is not hard - It was however a special 20% off offer at my local hair salon Aphrodite (pronounce like "Miss Dynamiteee" for full effect) which lured me onto the beauticians couch. That, paired with four, yes four zits on my chin; which is four more than I have ever had the pleasure of wearing in my life, is what made me rush along the high street and book my self in.
I must say my friend Sarah has mentioned these extravagance before but did not exaggerate the fact that they were an essential part of a ladies life at our age. I will be reprimanding her for not handcuffing me to her fake Prada handbag and dragging me down to her old local spa haunt Harvey Nicks. All I kept thinking of was calling my mother and demanding she had one NOW, bless her I have inherited the constant face muscle tension from her and feel that it would decelerate the aging process if she immediately dropped everything (like feeding her 20 odd cats) and get into the city to have a facial MOT.
How refreshing it was to be massaged - face neck and collar bones, the latter region stirred up some sexual tension however, and I was already planning my next move... Bag a guy who has beautician qualifications. Foreplay would never be the same again, mind you I am off to San Fran for 3 months, maybe there will be plenty of guys with such attributes on their CV's; however, to find one who ticks the hetrosexual box too could prove difficult.
I was laying down with my shirt off, bra straps to the sides and hair wrapped up in some sort of bandanna and the fun began. A simple cleansing, scrubbing, massage then scrubbing, essential oils, lemon grass if I am not mistaken and massage. The finale was a slapping on of thick gooey moisturiser on the face and some lighter but equally stickey stuff on the eyes, massage then I was left to relax for about 10 mins.
This was the hard bit. I find if very difficult to relax as I am a bit hyper to say the least. Thoughts that came flashing in front of my moisture laden eyes were, get the sofa for sale add up in the PO, what exactly could I make for dinner using an aubergine? And how many cats exactly does my mother have? By the time all these thoughts had cumulated into a big blob of blue light gyrating in front of my eyes, there was a big light and "right that will be £30 please".
So there you have it £30 worth it I must say, but I still have no idea what to do with a aubergineen? Any suggestions please send a stamped addressed postcard.
Tuesday, September 06, 2005
Crash - The Movie
Just so you know...
Crash the Movie is really quite thought provoking. I went to see it on Sat and my Toy Boy fell asleep, which meant I could watch the whole thing undisturbed!! I did not even finish my pop corn I was so engrossed.
Crash the Movie is really quite thought provoking. I went to see it on Sat and my Toy Boy fell asleep, which meant I could watch the whole thing undisturbed!! I did not even finish my pop corn I was so engrossed.
Monday, September 05, 2005
De Bagged
Hello my friends...
despite the fact a nasty virus has wiped my hard drive which means I have lost the 10k words of my book forever and in doing so have learned the valuable lesson of saving stuff to disk - just in case a nasty virus coughs up all over your hard drive; I am in my local library Blogging away.
I have been bypassing this place for a few weeks as I recently learned one can re new books via the phone and the kids are still on holiday. This is the longest 6 week holiday I have experienced, maybe since I have had a fair bit of time on my hands I am taking such unnecessary observations to the brink surely these poor little buggers deserve a month and a half maybe more to bug the pants off their parents, childminders or unsuspecting members of the Council Tax paying public.
Which brings me on nicely to my main reason for my bitter ranting today.
It was going to be a fantastic red wine fueled Friday with my dear friend Victoria, and it was. That was until the wine, vodka, peach schnapps and any thing else I had festering away under the kitchen sink which was slightly alcoholic (mind you I did draw the line at the Toilet Duck)was necked. Once the stark realisation of the lack of alcohol lingered long enough to render us sober enough to brave the 24 hour garage we decided that we needed milk, as the only other form of liquid stimulation which was left was coffee. As usual I had no milk so the trip was scheduled and our military style operation 'Garage-a-Thon' was penciled in.
You may think that there is no planning required for such a short walk at midnight to the top of my road. However due the vast amount of alcohol consumption the fact I had been gardening all day and was in dire need of a shower some sort of order was required. I quickly showered and donned the comfortable option of Adidas trackie bottoms, pink hooded top and a beanie. It goes without saying that my Birkenstock sandals were on the plates (of meat = feet((Cockney Rhyming Slang)).
We were off. I was slightly concerned I had wet hair but thought the beanie would curtail any of the old wife's tale of 'catching your death' of coming true.
A quick game of knock a door run, or knock down Ginger was proposed by Victoria, but I reminded her of my age and even though she is slightly younger at 25 advised her that it probably was not a great idea to start instigating some enraged household with a view to having to leg it - Birkenstocks are not the preferred running shoe, as I discovered in Rio (see blog entry http://frombarnsleytobrazil.blogspot.com/2005/01/what-shenanigan.html - Please note this is my best mate's blog site - I went to Brazil with her this year and she tells the tale of the night we had to leg it from some very angry bar men - while wearing Birkenstocks).....
Sorry for this break I have run out of time on this PC but will reveal all tomorrow - Literally as you will soon discover!!
Jo x
despite the fact a nasty virus has wiped my hard drive which means I have lost the 10k words of my book forever and in doing so have learned the valuable lesson of saving stuff to disk - just in case a nasty virus coughs up all over your hard drive; I am in my local library Blogging away.
I have been bypassing this place for a few weeks as I recently learned one can re new books via the phone and the kids are still on holiday. This is the longest 6 week holiday I have experienced, maybe since I have had a fair bit of time on my hands I am taking such unnecessary observations to the brink surely these poor little buggers deserve a month and a half maybe more to bug the pants off their parents, childminders or unsuspecting members of the Council Tax paying public.
Which brings me on nicely to my main reason for my bitter ranting today.
It was going to be a fantastic red wine fueled Friday with my dear friend Victoria, and it was. That was until the wine, vodka, peach schnapps and any thing else I had festering away under the kitchen sink which was slightly alcoholic (mind you I did draw the line at the Toilet Duck)was necked. Once the stark realisation of the lack of alcohol lingered long enough to render us sober enough to brave the 24 hour garage we decided that we needed milk, as the only other form of liquid stimulation which was left was coffee. As usual I had no milk so the trip was scheduled and our military style operation 'Garage-a-Thon' was penciled in.
You may think that there is no planning required for such a short walk at midnight to the top of my road. However due the vast amount of alcohol consumption the fact I had been gardening all day and was in dire need of a shower some sort of order was required. I quickly showered and donned the comfortable option of Adidas trackie bottoms, pink hooded top and a beanie. It goes without saying that my Birkenstock sandals were on the plates (of meat = feet((Cockney Rhyming Slang)).
We were off. I was slightly concerned I had wet hair but thought the beanie would curtail any of the old wife's tale of 'catching your death' of coming true.
A quick game of knock a door run, or knock down Ginger was proposed by Victoria, but I reminded her of my age and even though she is slightly younger at 25 advised her that it probably was not a great idea to start instigating some enraged household with a view to having to leg it - Birkenstocks are not the preferred running shoe, as I discovered in Rio (see blog entry http://frombarnsleytobrazil.blogspot.com/2005/01/what-shenanigan.html - Please note this is my best mate's blog site - I went to Brazil with her this year and she tells the tale of the night we had to leg it from some very angry bar men - while wearing Birkenstocks).....
Sorry for this break I have run out of time on this PC but will reveal all tomorrow - Literally as you will soon discover!!
Jo x
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