NEWSFLASH

since i've already written 2 blogs about 2 important people in my life (said josh and meg), i think its important to write a proper blog about someone else extremely special. This be my boyfriend Anthony. i care about this naughty cypriot hunk a hell of a lot and hes done a lot for me in the last few months and i couldnt ask for more, he's exactly what ive needed and hes doing a damn good job of making me happy. if it wasnt for him i may well have blown my brains out for sorrow by now, but he keeps a massive smile on my face and lets me know im still cared about and i couldnt thank him more to be honest. ive had a really shit few months with a lot of nasty stuff going down and taking me down with it, and hes been there making it better as much as he can. he's totally beautiful and has amazing hair and the best golden eyes and a personality i will never ever get bored of. i hope he sticks around for a long time and doesnt get bored of my shitty mood swings and pathetic behavior or my sleep talking and constant retarded-ness.  i dont know how to even begin thanking him or showing him how much i care about him but i guess a blog about him is one step forward and better than nothing. hes the best and i love him to bits and wouldnt swap him for all the tea in china

suck the balls with melancholy, fa la la la la la la laaaaaa

its christmas. i am officially a total consumer, my 30 feet of intestines are fit to burst with all sorts of tasty treats, but i feel slash look at least 5 months pregnant with the baby of festive spirit. i havnt blogged in a while and i've completely lost my touch, but to update you guys, i've been having the time of my life playing in the snow-ho-ho-ho and being a total bum. nothing changes really. i have a lifetimes worth of work to do before i go back to college which aint gunner happen yanno. i am currently enjoying the more refined delights life beholds, such as being skint, literally have £3.87 in my bank account. it'll get me far. cant even buy a fucking sloppy kfc for that meager amount of dosh. what am i to do? hopefully famine will kick in and i'll start to waste away and lose my festive weight and all the other puppy fat hanging off my bones from previous gluttonous times. my pint of bison juice mixed with apple juice lays beside me, my gut resides in a tire like composition across my lap and my external hard drive balances on my duvet nest backing up all the shit i have collected on my craptop over the last 2 years. i feel oh so productive. sitting in a room with my silent cousins, all 3 of us blogging, and talking to my nut of a boyfriend about video games? perfect. roll on the new year i say.

BBBBEEEEEEEECCCKKK

i am so fucking tired. i've barely slept. i've been up since the crack of shit and my eyes feel like they're made from led. there is no escape. tonight ive got to do the college fashion show, which means getting my bad self sinched into this ridiculous corset, resulting in me being unable to breathe or yawn, which in turn results in me feeling severly ill and on the verge of blowing my brains out for lack of oxygen. unlike all the other girls doing this fashion show, i dont look good in corset, it doesnt make me slimmer and it most certainly doesn't make my boobs look big, if anything it reduces them. further more, by the time i get home from this stinking prep fest im going to have NO time to do ANY other work and i might aswell just get SKULL FUCKED and obliterate my brain cells since theyre going to no use. BOH. im looking forward to breaking up from college this friday and getting alcohol poisoning and then spending the rest of my christmas holidays in intensive care. MERRY SHITMAS

"I've never seen you this bad..."

my weekend thus far; we're now approaching 11pm on a sunday evening and i thought i should relay my weekend to you guyz. so, friday, me and the boy have got home after faffing about, getting real fucking greasy gnoshing on a KFC and then went home to enjoy the comfort of my pit of a bedroom. this comfort quickly resorted to the best nap of my life, and we woke some time later in a sleepy daze, and i can honestly say that nap was better than sex... eh hem. anyway, my saturday was wonderful, spent cruising about Guilford. THOUGH, i got seriously fucking aggy with the amount of  gormless  r3t@rd$ oggling at me, i was on the verge of running about like some sort of savage and plucking every individuals eyes out with my bared teeth and spitting them back down their ajar mouths and making them choke on them. i was literally livid, for no good reason or rhyme. another thing ive realized is how much i hate pretty girls. its funny how any other girl i see i find myself checking out and feel myself going gangrenous with envy. it did my nut in when i was trynna walk about, getting paranoid by the amount of "bare fit birds" strutting around. and strangers touching me, thats a whole different story. they could have been fingering their bum holes and bathing in their own piss and then come out and like, jostle next to me when im just trynna walk along. is it too much to ask to go in a straight line without gimp stumbling into your path and coughing on the side of your face as you pass? anyway. in addition to this eclectic group of minging people who cant function normally, we come to said Meg, that batty hippy lass. watching her lay on her back on the sofa with legs jutting over the edge with 2nd stage rigomortis, hair like a firey cheese string and face like someone who has spent the last 9 weeks face down in a bowl of water, absorbing every drop to turn into this great bloated and shiny orb, i couldn't help but find her repugnant. to watch her then progress to heaving up her pajama bottoms to the top of her thighs, sitting with legs outspread and forcing every in growing hair out, the emotion that accompanied my view of her distasteful display was a mixture of pure distain and respect. for the record, she has just appeared back in the room, washed but still looking like a spongey pale mess. while i was looking at her this very moment, she's grunted "what, are you capturing the essence of my glory?".... Its funny coz its true. night everyone

round II

Once again, I find myself in this oh so thrilling extended study lesson, staring at the computer screen and feeling the bile in my stomach shift from eating too many "nice" biscuits and drinking no fluid as of yet today. I need to remain hydrated, at the moment i think my body functions have resorted to adapting to similar methods a camel uses to surive; i literally must be living off a hump storing water and fats. thats my excuse for being a chunky monkey, im not big boned or carrying a little festive weight, im just retaining water okay.

Anyway, im once again looking forward to another weekend of tomfoolery and buggery. i plan to go christmas shopping and buy everyone cheap and disgusting gifts that i will find hilarious and novelty beyond beleif but what my family may see as disrespectful and just damn rude. if any of my family read this blog, expect a little chunk of shit rolled in newspaper. i mean it with love, not in jest.

I AM ROMA

I HAVE NO BONER

BECAUSE I WOULD NEED A WANG FOR THAT

BUT UNFORTUNATELY, MY CROTCH IS FLAT

I ENJOY BATTERING OLD WOMEN AND KICKING KIDS IN THE SHINS

IM A HARDCORE BITCH WHO THROWS BABIES IN BINS

IVE GOT A HEAD LIKE MEDUSA AND A FACE LIKE THE MOON

I MAY LOOK RETARDED BUT HELL IM NO GOON

MALICE RUNS THROUGH MY VEINS AND MY BONES ARE MADE OF STEEL

IF YOU THINK YOU CAN BEAT ME DOWN, GET FUCKING REAL

I COULD RIP YOU LIMB FROM LIMB WITH MY LITTLE TOES

AND SUCK OUT YOUR HEART USING ONLY MY NOSE

IF YOU'RE STILL NOT SCARED OF ME YOU MUST BE DERANGED

IM SO DANGEROUS I SHOULD BE ENCAGED

MY VICTIMS NEVER GET TO TELL MY STORY

BECAUSE IM ALL ABOUT THE FUCKINGS BLOOD, GUTS AND GLORY

FEAR ME PEOPLE, IM NOT TO BE TAMPERED WITH

FUCK WITH ME AND YOU'RE SURE TO NOT LIVE.

Sam Shelley says ...

"oh wow, if you write a blog today it'll tick over into december... this makes me happy..."

i picked up on his tip, im writing this blog so i officially have a blog for decemeber.

DECEMBER MEANS GETTING REALLY FUCKING FAT ON MINCE PIES AND SLOSHY MULLED WINE. BRING ON FESTIVE WEIGHT >: (

BASICALLY

I AM LITERALLY IN LOVE WITH MY NEW VANS

HURGHGHHHHGHGHGHGHGHGHHH

IM IN THE MAC SHOP IN SOUTHAMPTON WITH ANTHONY ZARDIS. HEELLLLL YEAHHHHHH

i'm just a hunka-hunka burning love

location; extended study lesson, room M31

time; 11:12 am

activity; writing this fucking blog because its more constructive than anything else i could produce in this poxy lesson.

so ive been on the UCAS website, and after revelling and slapping the moniter of this hunk-of-crap computer, i've decided i cant be fucked to apply on UCAS, its a load of nonsense and makes less than no sense. im not a genius, all i want to do is find out which universities have my courses so i can go fart ass about on their websites and get some applications but this whole UCAS thing has thrown a spanner in the works, resorting in me throwing my toys out the pram and writing this instead of securing my future in further education. anyway, "i dont give a shag."

its raining at the moment and this displeases me on so many levels; for one i have to walk back to the train station once my lessons are finished, which means im gunna get shit hair and a face that looks like someones taken a blow torch to it. im a bit of a hypocrit, since i would usually look at girls screeching and sheilding their faces/hair from rain as they scramble for shelter and think they're pathetic and wonder why they cant just deal with it, its not like they're made of sugar, they're not going to dissolve in the rain so why the hell wont they man up. BUT, after getting up at half 6, straightening my hair and powdering my nose, it is a bit of a piss take to then walk through the rain and come to your next destination looking like a burns victim.

im looking forward to developing some bed sores this weekend, minimal movement is key to a good weekend. Gluttony is the theme this weekend. i want to eat shit and drink tea untill every cavity and pore on my body is crammed with food. i then want to drink untill i go blind and wake up as a tangled mess of limbs with eyes like a cat ass hole and mouldy mouth, throw up down the side of my bed and then go back into a deep and sweaty sleep...

OH, i used my hands to paint in art today! it was liberating, to grab a tube of acrylic paint and squirt it into your palms and then just smear it around like a wild woman, with the rest of my art class sitting there observing their work with pride and using fanny paint brushes for the intricate details. fuck that, im all about getting down and dirty with my art, i got involved and i loved it, no regrets, even though i have gold hands and i look like ive been fisting a bond woman.

on that note, tuttah mongspot

Toggle panic

its bad enough that i have to fight my own body out of bed every morning or i will literally never surface out the abundance of bedsheets and grotty pillows, and bad enough that i wake up with my eyes welded together with a good 8 hours worth of eye bogeys, and bad enough i always have a behemoth spot pretty much center of my face and becoming like a new focal point or a third eye, but all of these morning hinderances are nothing, NOTHING, compared to what i suffered on the train the other morning.
so, im on the train, its half 8 in the morning, im still working off my morning grip and waiting for my brain to kick in and process information rather than leaving me in my corpse-like stupour, and im about to arrive at my station to get off, so i get up and make towards the exit. but, leaving the train is apparently against god's will. now, if you any of you people reading this have a parker coat, you will understand and that occasionally there is a ridiculous loop of rope or string at the back of your coat that dangles just at the back of the leg. this little fucking piece of nonsense created by the ministry of shit design decided to ruin my life that morning.

on my hurried exit off the train- trying to retain a cool and collected demeanour whilst looking like a walking scrotum- this toggle on the back of my coat has become snagged on the arm rest of a seat, resulting in me catapolting backwards into this vaguely familiar guy from college. so now im stood there, flaundering like a fish out of water and still trying to make a most pathetic advancement towards the door but still being tugged backwards by this toggle tied around the chair. so the poor guy behind me has taken it upon himself to grab me by my hood and drag me backwards to unleash me from my trap. upon release i acted like a wild animals and made another flight towards the doors, but before i knew it, i had made it 2 chairs forwards and the very same thing had happened to me; i was caught upon the chair arm by this piece of string. by this point, im developing a twitch in my eye and feel myself reddening, as the commuters watch my pathetic struggle to break free for the doors again. this lad behind me has once again pulled me back, plucked this bit of string off the chair and propelled me forwards himself, and just when i can smell fresh air and see the light of eastleigh platform, i yet again find myself unable to move. only this time, it is my bag strap that has got caught. this was the straw that broke the camels back, i was ready to hurl myself into the train floor and curl up, possibly throttle myself with the very chord at the back of my coat and smother myself with my bag laiden with beads and oil paints. i dont think anyone will ever understand how infuriated i was, i was on the cusp of a panic attack followed by a swift suicide. never again will i feel as angry as i did on that train. never again will i be able to deal with a situation where i get snagged on something.

guys...

joe is sitting next to me doing coursework. what a poor misfortunate young filly. I however, have nothing better to do than write this... thats right my friends, im excelling in all my subjects and i have no need to sit a haunch over a computer in lunch times and free periods doing extra work so SUCK MY FIRM ONE.....

MAC SPAC

my mac has died. yet again, technology fails me. macs are the tardiest peices of electric shit on this planet, im sure. theyre the love child of a down syndrome victim and a defect toaster, resulting in the wonderfully over rated macbook. well apple. my mac has been jilted; thrown down, kicked under my bed with a plethera of food reminants and worn socks and never to see daylight again. so how d'you like them apples. THEN, my ipod busted. officially disowned it, i treated that thing like a child, nutured it and loved it and gave it all my time and affection. took it to the fucking dunce in Curry's, he was a prick, i was about to give him the peoples elbow but i got distracted by the bit of crusty butt nugget stuck in his tash. AND my phone has stopped working...yeah.. i know right, you feel my pain? i also just smoked a rollie made from baccy thats 5 months old and has been sitting on the windowsill in the kitchen getting minging. i love life. i want the weekend to roll round, hard and fast. but, its only monday and i have afew more days of misery and angst untill its all gravy once more.

Bliss

Tomorrow it will be Friday 13th, yet i know for a fact i've got another brilliant weekend ahead of me. as the week comes to an end again, i find myself facing what is going to be lovely weekend with lovely people. so thanks in advance. you know who you are. i want nothing more than to stay in bed and do what i do best...nothing. let the good times roll

Ode to Josh....

there is a boy i know named josh davies

all the girls want to have his babies

he is my favourite emo in all the land

i am probably his number one fan

hes hardcore as fuck from his feet to his neck

i love the way his brother says "BECK"

he never does his work and is always mashed

and gets totally pissy when his computer has crashed 

he has a cat called coco who is hard as nails

and would save this world when all else fails

joshes vocabulary is pimped with military slang

its super queer how he buzzes off a flashbang

he is a goff im proud to love

for so much more than the reasons above

top trumps

id like to alert everyone to the bane of my existence;

trying to conceal farts in public.

lets not be coy, we all do it. my personal fave being when im listening to my ipod and forget that im the only person who wont hear my fart, but its still audible to everyone else who doesnt have earphones in, which is always 97% of the people surrounding me as i drop the bomb. its always on the same level as hiroshima and nagasaki, and im pretty sure all women around me will have birth defect child due to bad fart. soz ladiez. another winner is when you cluck and then turn around and look behind you with a heavy frown as if to look for the culprit who produced that wretched stench, while rapidly moving away from the scene of the crime. or, perhaps you're the sort of person who stands next to a friend, unleashes a guff so powerful it rips a hole through your pants and dashes away from the infected area, and when others start questioning who the fuck dropped that nasty food ghost, you simply point a finger and blame it on your poor friend who is stood in your bum breath. or scenarios such as being in the public toilets and having a piss but accidently popping out a little fluff, and the sound bounces about the toilet bowl and theres nothing to be done but hang your head in shame and ignore the gaze of the person who emerged from the cubicle beside you and hope that moment doesnt come back to haunt you. BUT, despite all of this, my favourite public farting are those who simply let one rip and say nothing, do nothing; infact, some look slightly smug, and give you eye contact while they expel this fucking ring stinging gas thats enough to make your eyes water. its so absurdly obvious that no one suspects them. genius, about as blatant as standing there and telling someone to pull your finger, its pure gold. why is it you always think about how funny it would be if someone farted during the 2 minute silence and make yourself crease up, and end up stood there with a face like a beetroot and shuddering from the effort of not cracking up and getting sent for hell for disturbing the only 2 minutes all those brave men who died in war get remembered in. whatever, better out than in right...right?

PRICK

today i punched a cactus. it really fucking hurt.

dont try it at home

Boredom prevails

status report; roma's day.
06:45am; alarm goes off. i slap phone off bed and ignore it.
07:00am; alarm goes off again. i punt it with my chode finger and snooze.
07:22am; im late. have to shower, smell a bit spicy, but no time to wash hair. as if i care, i havnt washed it since friday anywhoolahoops. to anyone who knows me well enough, they will know that my hair smells like copper coins and diesel when its unwashed, which, in turn, smells like the interior of my ex's van. delicious.
8:24am; im on train to college, and im 5ft 9 and feeling fiiiiiiiine. obviously it starts pissing it down when i get off the train, which is always a plus when i have to walk in sub zero temperatures to college.
college was dull today, as it most usually is. nothing significant happened that even warrants a mention, stole a BLT sarny that tasted like salty foot cheese, so it swiftly made a debut into the nearest bin. BUT, though i had a rough sandwich and a seriously monotonous day at college, its all okay, because i got to see my wonderful baby sam and have 10 minutes in his company, before making my way to elliots house for some brotherly love, which thus far has been nothing short of hilarious. its been good to see some good friends, and this weekend ive got my fingers crossed to see lovely ant and all will be well.
22:02pm; SO GOD DAMN THIRSTY
.

ER, EXQUEEZE ME, BAKING POWDER

FUCK MY LIFE.

FUCK MY IPOD.

IT JUST FUCKING WIPED ITSELF BLANK.

NO MUSIC.

NO MERCY.

Tell me everything you know... I have a few seconds to waste.

dear diary, mood; apathetic.

im pretty sure my eyes resemble clams right now, im sooo tired. but, alas, its fine, im staying awake for a moment to write yet another pointless blog. i'd like to rant about a few minor details of my life; a: im developing dread locks in the back of my hair from lack of hygiene and care. b: i keep pulling my eyelashes out, which distresses me because i wasn't favored with many lashes to start with in life, they're  pretty endangered as it is without me tugging tufts out when i get anxious. c: <-- that looks like a teeny smiley face. d: i feel bloated as sin. i finally know how those little kids from africa feel with the air bellies... anyway. apart from this, im feelin' fine. had a lovely weekend doing shit all and spending 80% of my time in bed with a male cypriot, and for once it wasn't a dream. anyway, i have college tomorrow so i should probably hit the hay and wake up with crusty dried dribble on my chops and my nasal passages stinging from snoring hard and fast all night long. 

Vital Fluid.

Good evening bloggers. I have some gripe to share with you this fine night, for its been on my mind all day... so it goes a little something like this. Today i was busting for a piss during my english literature lesson, so i break out like the maverick i am and go to the toilet, in which i religiously use the second toilet in, so, as per usual, i go in there and have a hearty piss. BUT, i was shocked to find that mid-flow through that piss, i noted the large streak of period blood smearing down the right side of the cubicle. i literally gagged, yet felt strangely compelled to keep looking at it, thinking that maybe if i just kept glancing at it, it might just disappear. the last thing i want while im having a peaceful urination is to have someone's claggy fanny blood wiped across the cubicle like some filthy flag or gross display of dominance. i dont want to battle over territory, i was truely bothered that, out of all the toilets, its the only one i use. fucks sake. i could have touched it. then what? huh? AIDS. thats what.

Gluttony

Hey guys. you know when you get on a train with friends and you'd like to sit on the 4-seat arrangement with the table but theres one lone person being a table slut and taking up the whole thing, and you'd feel uncomfortable to go and sit with that one person, so you move on and have to split up with your friends? im always that one person at the 4-seater. i love being a bastard.

Die in shame and dishonour, bleeding from the nose in a drunken slumber.

These last few days ive been reading and watching some seriously influential things and its opening my eyes to the world, but i keep remembering that one person cant change the world. i mean, jesus tried to change the world and what happened to him? he got pinned up on a cross like a right weener with nails through his palms. i dont want that to happen to me if i go round the street trying to tell people shit they dont wanna hear, i'll end up strapped to the front of some kebab van with old leering men laughing at me. no thanks. i think i might go live in a treehouse in the jungle for afew years. proper off the beaten track and tucked away from society and come back like some neanderthal woman, partly evolved into a plant aswell. the thought of this pleases me, i could just photosynthesize and respire, it'd be a quick and efficient weight loss plan. anyway im pretty sick of people telling me what i am and what im not, ive got blood lust for a lot of people now, i dont know what it is, but im becoming bitter as shit in my old age and i honestly want half the worlds population to go fuck themselves. for all the girls who become total shag lords and cant hold enough morals to keep their pants up, they deserve the crotch-full of STI's they get. all the men who cheat and lie because they havnt got the capacity to think about hurting their partners feelings should be castrated. to all the kids or adults of get cheap thrills from being cruel to animals on purpose need me to drop kick their heads. im so fucking livid today and i dont know why, but im hostile. irate even. stay out my way chumps, im ready to smash skulls

Young at heart

i wish i was 1 again, and that i didnt have to worry about all the concerns of adult life and the big bad world, and i could just sit and play with colours and shapes and not know what it is to speak and not know how to argue or tell someone who hurt you to fuck off, just to gargle and laugh and sleep.  growing up is over-rated. who wants to grow up and fall in and out of love, get heart break, try drugs and get drunk, lose friends and learn how much of a dog eat dog world it is when you could just stay young forever and never have to worry and to have bone marrow built like rubber and to fall down and not break, just bounce back up and carry on waddling along and putting things in your mouth that you shouldnt. i'd give anything to forget everything and be young again for a day. it didnt matter if things werent okay because you never knew then..

Why isn't there mouse-flavored cat food?

im still baffled about the whole space thing. so much about it doesnt make any sense. ive been thinking about it and it just stumps me. why do they call it an asteroid when it's outside the hemisphere, but call it a hemorrhoid when it's in your ass? it all a crock of shit. if i had the time i would do some research, take a degree in astrology, perhaps join NASA... but the truth is that im probably going to end up in a cardboard box under old newspapers in a tesco car park. ANYWAY, on that bombshell, ive decided i seriously cannot wait for it to snow again. autumn weather is an absolute life ruiner. this year im gunna be a badass snow fighter, not like last year where i just got destroyed by snowball head shots. ive thought about strategy and tactile advantages, and im thinking my best move would be to fashion some sort of catapolt and just batter the shit out of everyone and everything with tonnes of snow. watch out winter lovers, the snow will be stained red with the blood of my victims.

Wake the sun so stars can shine

 I'd like to know what the deal with space is, like... how big is it? because it really shits on my wheetabix that i cant fathom how it works. theoretically speaking, it does go on forever, and apparently it expands, but how can something than has infinite space expand? what is it expanding into? more space... but then that makes no sense, surely that bit more space has something beyond it as well? my thoughts on the matter; fuck it all. ive decided im going to invent a way to make the human race immortal ( apart from all the assholes out there, they can just do one) and when the earth eventually over populates or we get grilled slowly by solar flares, all the human race can just pack up and go to space to float about and inhabit our neighboring planets and just look out of our little space houses into the nearest nebula. shotgun uranus by the way, thats going to be my own hostile little planet where im gunna have some banging tea parties.  a lot of people say how amazing it would be to control time and space, but if i had the ability to control the spacetime continuum i wouldn't change much, i dont see the point in people trying to make life so perfect and avoid any problems, something bad is bound to happen to you one day, whether a grand piano falls out the sky and crushes you or you tread in some particularly nasty dog shit, it all builds character. though if i did have some control id like to have bernards watch, and just freeze time at free will to go and cause mischief. for me that just spells fun, i revel in the idea of the possibilities.. drawing giant cocks on national state buildings and undressing people and reassembling their clothes back on their bodies on the wrong limbs or on backwards. oh if i were God id really show this shitty planet a good time.

The ghost said to the invisible man, "long time no see!"

So,  what did one eye say to the other? "between you and me, something smells...". word around the block is that i should really crack on and do some college work, but im thinking im gunna sit my big ol' ass right on this 'ere sofa and plough through a bag of asda muesli and just search videos of cats doing funny things on youtube while all my work pails into insignificance. after all, it is sunday, thus forth i rename it Funday for my own novelty purposes. im having the time of my life watching my aunt mow the lawn and picking bits of granola and raisin out my teeth. i factually have not brushed my teeth since yesterday morning, ive got death breath. after a gut full of cider, wine, vodka, mcdonalds, fags and tea, my bowels are screaming at me and i can literally taste me own breath when i breathe.. its like some sort of calcified carbohydrate taste, and i have no shame in it, i don this breath with a pride that only the homeless and my crusty a-hole licking cat would understand. what i would really like to do with this spare time i have is do something excessively destructive like burn down a house or smash some plates or ruin the feng shui of someone's cactus garden, but, alas, i must do work. im going to read a extract of prose thats 622 years old, so fuck all you modern age readers, with your katie price novels and twilight, im gunna get serious about reading and go get a literature boner over this book. peace out.

"another day, another dickhead"

I WANT TO MARRY THIS MAN...

SO MUCH

Dont dink and drance

nice |nīs|

adjective

1 pleasant; agreeable; satisfactory 
i like it when things are "nice", so monotonously pleasing that the only word that can be used to describe   it is "nice", because its not quite good enough to warrant being fantastic or using another interesting adjective. i think at the time being i feel nice with a twist of apathy. strange mood to be in on a sunday morning. The weekend has been eventful, i managed to make my sisters cat shit itself; it literally pebble-dashed the front room table with liquid shit, and managed to complete a trail of chocolate buttons across the floor and onto my sisters boyfriends slipper. he was not best pleased, he was having none of that. as i prophesied i did end up drinking myself into a stupor last night, and it was most good and i made myself a prime example of what all drunks should be. godbless my liver for taking all my bullshit

IT returns... and it brings with it the stench of second hand vegetable ass gas.

this indeed, is it. the fabled fire headed woman of whom local folk have claimed to see wearing a jumper with a dogs head on with a grey woolen bonnet. she is no myth. she is no mortal. she is m-m-m-m-m-muh-muh-muh-meh-meh-megggg!!!!! i thought i might aswell throw this in since the "woman" is indeed a large part of my life now. i'll let you all know, she told me over a romantic dinner for 2, as we deep throated our home made vegetarian pasta bake, that if i were a boy and not her cousin she would indeed marry me. ive always known she wanted me but since ive moved in things have escalated a little. i'll let her down gently though, ive been thinking about it long and hard and i just dont think it would work out. its a shame really, our children would have been so beautiful....

He broke your heart? Break his spine.

So here i am again, gurning and slowly roasting in this room. i dont think im exaggerating when i say its hotter than the sun in here and i probably will be nothing but a smoldering pile of embers by the end of this evening. this situation could only be better if i was basted in honey with an apple in my mouth on some sort of rotisserie device. i can feel pretty much every egg in my ovaries getting scrambled from laptop radiation too. i hope that means my children will have 6 eyes and surplus limbs, if i dont indeed become infertile.  anyway, once again, i find myself shredding my hair out over the fact i have nothing constructive to do. i could do work, but then again, i could sit here and write about how bored i am and contemplate my life untill its fit to be re-evaluated and sorted out. which wall should i put my ladder of life against? which road shall i take? will i die with too many regrets? do i treat people with enough respect? am i going in the right direction? should i have cereal or toast for breakfast tomorrow?... so many pressing issues. "issues for ass tissues". i would really like to do something tomorrow that is going to take my mind off how dismal i am at pulling my act together and sorting things out. something along the lines of drinking cider until i have a seizure and slam someones head off a curb, plunge face first into the road and get arrested, spend the night in a cell, choking on my own delicious chunter. the back of my knees are sweating with excitement just thinking about this frisky proposition to get reaaally fucking messy. oh i hope that will be the order of the evening.

I WANT A CUP OF HOT CHOCOSHIT.

Suck my left one.

if someone buys me one of these i will literally pin them down and bone them. i hate the fact im so bored my brain has stopped functioning again, and ive stopped blinking and im concerned my eyes are starting to crust over. if i dont find something to do soon i know i'll end up infront of the mirror squeezing every foible on my face or face down on the floor in a pool of my own body fluids.  good lord please have mercy on my soul and let some freak accident happen which involves a plane crashing into the garden carrying a cargo of indian take away dishes and a rabble of scruffy long haired men with the ability to entertain... is it so wrong that i find the thought of filling my gut with curry  to the point of bursting more sexy than watching a bunch of beautiful men doing some potentially cutting edge entertainment? 

Freaky Friday.

                                                                       OH SHIT

The fact that its a friday night and I am sitting alone in the dark looking up secret military bases and UFO sightings is enough to make anyone reach for the nearest blunt object and bludgeon their own brains out. But, theres something quite thrilling about the fact im looking for things that people shouldn't search for. im buzzing off the fact im finding all these pictures of sketchy secret bases in the middle of no where... the wonders of the internet never cease to amaze. This whole little invasive search sparked from me having a craving to watch the video of the Mary Rose ship being raised out of the sea bed, because the bastards dropped the ship wreck in the water again and made a right mess out the whole operation, but i never found that video. SO, i decided looking at ship wrecks would be cool (my idea of cool probably varies a loooong way from yours, so shutup yeah..) and there were some batty pictures that made me feel sick and made me angry at the fact such large vessels exist. large lumps of metal simply should not float. fact. anyway, due to the fact i live in Portsmouth, i was curious about the whole naval action thats going on down here, theres got to be something dodgy going on, for example, who actually knows what massive ship-shaped base is on top of the hill? ive been on the internet for almost 40 minutes and i have found no information about it? why will no one mention it?! its a great fucking grey concrete jungle shaped like a ship with satellites and radars hanging off it?! they could be listening to our conversations for all we know; not like theres anything worth listening to in portsmouth, just full of toothless pikeys ringing hot babe sexlines and getting a boner over a girl pretending to flick her bean. fuck portsmuff and everything it stands for. fuck naval bases, fuck large boats and most importantly, fuck submarines. so hard. they're the most sinister thing in the sea, id rather be scalped by a shark and raped by a colossal squid than go in one.

Insomnia kicks in

00:19 

How Roma currently feels;

Seriously brain dead. i'd like my defect brain to kick in and start throwing up something interesting to say, but i know thats not going to happen at any stage in the next few hours. or few months, or years in fact. so this blog is completely and totally pointless and is not a creation of interest in blogging or waking up in a cold sweat thinking about all the wonderful, insightful things i have to say and how there is poor, poor misguided people in the world who are living their lives to a fraction of its full potential all because they haven't heard what i have to say. no. this blog is being created because im too much of a sack of shit to move from where i'm currently sat to do something more productive, or do the sensible thing, which is to sleep. im not going to lie, my bed is literally a mattress on the floor with 5 or so second hand pillows coated in atleast 4,7584 peoples saliva that isnt my own and most likely infested with aids, but this does not dispute the fact its a fucking comfy bed, nor the fact that to go to bed id literally have to roll off the edge of this sofa and face-plant into the pillows and not surface for a few hours. nor the fact that my aunts dogs come into the room on a regular basis and wipe their nob juice on the mattress. none of this currently bothers me. i would really appreciate someone or something to come and move me from this welt i've created in the sofa, whether it be a beautiful man carrying me, a nurse taking me on a stretcher or some hostile old bint dragging me by my ankles, any progress away from this seat would be commendable.

Square One.

I'd like to think that people may genuinely be interested in what I think about the world, but unfortunately I know most people wont want to hear about any of my little adventures and lifestyle, so this blog is purely for peace of mind, so I can pretend people give a shit about how my day was and what I have to say about climate change ( its a load of wank, the polar bears are screwed)... Anyway, as for introducing myself, I dont know where to start, but my cousin normally introduces me with telling people the fact that while I was camping for 5 weeks this summer in Italy, I had to shit in the woods like some rogue animal, so i guess you guys can know that too. enjoy.