So I have not posted for a while, no other reason than I have been in work and a lot of people have been in the office.
I was called into Jabba's office yesterday, subsequently I have decided to name him, he is called Jeff Haines, my reason for naming will become clear shortly.
So he rang my switch number and said "can I see you for a minute". I did not understand him immediatley and had to say excuse me a couple of times, no doubt he had a mouth full of chicken skin.
So I took the short walk to his office and he kinda made a signal with his head, I did not really know what this was until he blurted out the words "shut the door".
At this point I should have been concerned but the truth is I detest the job with a passion.
He then proceded to say his opening line:
"What I am about to tell you, I shall deny every having the conversation"
Good start, he then proceeds to tell me that my department is closing down, and both he and I will be placed elsewhere (this was not fact, but something he asked his lawyer about - obviously he had known for some time).
He goes on for a while, about how the bosses want him to make over £60,000 profit in a month.
He eats over £60,000 in chicken per month that likely comes from the businesses profits.
So basically I sat there not shocked, not upset just wanting him to say that he has no choice but to let me go and pay me for a full month (a guy can dream).
So after around half an hour of this, he goes on to tell me how he needs at least £3,000 a month to cover his bills, and that does not include luxuries such as food?!
I have heard that his house is a typical home, nothing elaborate or special, just average, so I am lead to presume he is a) an alcoholic b)a gambler or c) a liar.
He drives a car that is a BMW with a personalised number plate of Y8 JEFF, I discovered some months ago this is on credit, and he is in debt up to his bitch tits.
So the long and the short of it is, I decided to tell him that I would be looking elsewhere and as and when I go to interviews I will be taking extra time to do so.
I don't think he could deny me this, but no doubt the fat cunt will find a way to fuck me over.
He then decided to slag off everyone to me, first it started that I moaned that Meirion, a lady who does the appointment making side, none of the admin,PA, secretarial parts at all of my job, gets paid £4,500 more than I get AND she gets to work from home!! He called her a mouthy bitch, who does his head in, then he said that he was more professional than the other 2 sales men, and feels they are childish and need to grow up.
The final thing he decided was to slag off Louise, my ex co-worker who was doing the same job as me.
He said that he wishes he had fired her 4 years ago, like the other directors wanted and she has pissed him off by taking the piss for the 6-7 years she was here.
Lovely, this got me thinking what the fuck does he say about me!
Oh well, time to drink lots of black coffee and apply for other jobs!
Thursday 29 April 2010
Friday 16 April 2010
I would get on Jesus' peen
If a guy came to earth proclaiming to be Jesus (the son of God, not Madonna's hot little brazilian toy boy)
and he walked round with a skirt on and a peen that large I would get on my knees, mouth open and worship like Whoopi in sister act!
The church is trying to say that this is actually Jesus' abdominal muscles, but bitch got played, that is blatantly Jesus shaking what his virginal mother gave him - a mammoth sized peen!
I may start going to church and being a good catholic boy, if that is gonna be what we get at the end of the tunnel.
Jesus should rise again and become a CK model, Marky Mark and Smith Jared have nothing on him and his peen of holy mother fuckin glory!
Thursday 15 April 2010
The office
So there was a new guy who started yesterday, I believe his name was Rob.
He was introduced to me and proceded to give me a very firm handshake, maybe to try and say that he was straight or something - I am not buying it the guy has just come back from living in Sydney, how gay can you get!
So he is amusing me at the moment, as he keeps saying yes and ending everyones sentences, I am sat here with a smile on my face all day, and can see that within a week he will start fucking all these dick heads off.
I am having to pretend I am deep in work today as Jim is in the office all day - fat cunt - this is not something I wanted however he is going off to play golf all tomorrow afternoon, cut to me running off at 3pm tomorrow.
So all in all the office is shit as usual, I just felt I had to express my delight at the new guy, who I find personally hilarious.
What I do not find hilarious, is the fact I wore my glamorous Vivienne Westwood glasses into work this morning (black rectangular rims and pink arms - quite fabulous), and the dick heads in the office - all in their 40's and straight may I add - proceded to find this amusing and thouhg tthey were highly funny saying I was like Elton John, oh that's right I am gay and wearing glasses, lets make the link to Elton John - HILARIOUS!
Wank stain is not even the word I would use to describe these toads, back to applying for new jobs!
He was introduced to me and proceded to give me a very firm handshake, maybe to try and say that he was straight or something - I am not buying it the guy has just come back from living in Sydney, how gay can you get!
So he is amusing me at the moment, as he keeps saying yes and ending everyones sentences, I am sat here with a smile on my face all day, and can see that within a week he will start fucking all these dick heads off.
I am having to pretend I am deep in work today as Jim is in the office all day - fat cunt - this is not something I wanted however he is going off to play golf all tomorrow afternoon, cut to me running off at 3pm tomorrow.
So all in all the office is shit as usual, I just felt I had to express my delight at the new guy, who I find personally hilarious.
What I do not find hilarious, is the fact I wore my glamorous Vivienne Westwood glasses into work this morning (black rectangular rims and pink arms - quite fabulous), and the dick heads in the office - all in their 40's and straight may I add - proceded to find this amusing and thouhg tthey were highly funny saying I was like Elton John, oh that's right I am gay and wearing glasses, lets make the link to Elton John - HILARIOUS!
Wank stain is not even the word I would use to describe these toads, back to applying for new jobs!
Disney does Couture
I just love these pictures from Spanish Elle, my particular favourite is Karl Lagerfeld.
Nothing bitchy to say just loving the pictures!
Wednesday 14 April 2010
Britney before and after
So here it is, what Brit Brit really looks like!
Like we didn't all know, there are only so many Starbucks Frappucino's and large Big Mac meals a girl can have before you get a little cellulite and a not so perfect body!
The only thing I have an issue with is how fucking scabby her legs and feet are?
WTF does she have an infestation of fleas in her house (trailer)?!
All in all though I can't really say much because bitch still looks hot and incredibly fierce, even with camel toe!
Carrie in Vogue!
This is photoshopped more than Tranmeister general tucks her cock, but I love it!
SJP looks fierce on the cover of the new Vogue, but is it me or whenever you see SJP do you also just see Carrie Bradshaw!?
I could not even watch her last movie without thinking it was Carrie acting.
A few weeks ago I watched "the first wives club" - obviously as a gay I love it, Goldie "fish lips" Hawn, Bette(can't say anything bad about the divine Miss M!) and Dean Keaton (Diane at the weekends) what could there be too hate?- and I remember thinking, doesn't Carrie look young.
I don't think SJP should be worried about being typecast as Carrie, I think Carrie is perhaps more interesting than SJP.
I wish Carrie and me were BFF's and we could buy Dior, Chanel, Manolo's, and the wonderous late Mr McQueen together while doing cosmo shots off each other's bodies.
A gay can dream!
OH MY GOD
Let it be known now, I LOVE Sex and the City!
I am literally moist at the thought of seeing those 4 bitches sashaying through the desert in Chanel and Dior.
For anyone who is hating on this, what is not to love?
It is pure escapism and glamour, the only SATC lady who is actually believable is Samantha (she is a 52 year old tranny, who runs a PR agency and wears 80's powersuits in 2010).
Carrie (a 40 something tranny who wears couture gowns on the budget of a writer) is fabulous, and no one really knows why!
Charlotte (think Audrey Hepburn in breakfast at Tiffany's but living in 2010 NYC) is just too prim and proper to be hanging with these ho's but it somehow makes sense, and,
Miranda (big fat ginger dyke) is a lawyer and mother - to Chucky from Childs play - who has a lot of sex for someone of distinctly average looks.
From the trailer and the poster I am understanding that as the "girls" (golden) near picking up their bus pass, they decide to go on a vaycay to somewhere with a desert (I believe Abu Dabi - fierce name ). This will obviously mean Samantha fucking half the population, perhaps even the camels, Charlotte hopefully getting the shits again, and Miranda letting her ginger nether-region locks flow out of her bikini bottoms.
Then we have our heroine Carrie, who if you remember married Big in the first film, goes on her girls holiday and sees Aiden!(hot, jazz playing guy with boring bitch tendencies, gay man trapped in a straight mans mind and body)
The question we all have is what will she do!?
I can't wait for May 27 and will be seeing the movie several times, feel like I should revisit my box set this evening over a few Cosmo's!
What The Fuck!?
Does anyone remember the days when Jessica Simpson, had a sort of career?
When Nick Lachey would still have me saying, "Yes I would", Instead of, "Yes I probably could, but I won't".
Well it would seem that Jessica's neck has disappeared the same way as her career.
I can't recall any of the lyrics to Jessica's "songs" except for that one with Eva Longoria-Parker acting like her and Jess were BFF's in the video, and then all it sounded like was:
"All the camels come out to the pub and the fair"
I think though that the song was called Public Affair, but I think Pub and the Fair sounds better.
Another thing who the fuck made that dress she is wearing?!
It is quite possibly the poorest made dress I have EVER seen, the hem is horrendous, material horrendous, Jessica horrendous, the list could go on and on!
I think Ashlee even looks better when I see Jessica like this.
I bet Joe Simpson is happy though, any shorter and her Vadge would be out, cut to Joe, using this image as masturbatory material for a decade, oh the joys of laughing at dumb ass hicks and their inbred ways!
Monday 12 April 2010
Saturday Night
So Aggy was out on a work night out and me and Oli were bored and had nothing to do, so I met up with Oli in town and decided to have a few drinks in the garden and chill.
So I bought a 4 pack of Stella Artois (we were trying to be butch, but that is all we could manager) and a 70cl bottle of Vodka.
So we are sat there with the gorgeous sun beating down on us, enjoying some al fresco drinks when Oli comes out with the revelation that he is actually not due into work until Sunday afternoon.
So after devouring the majority of the alcohol and listening to many hours of diva's singing, we decide we are owed a night out!
We actually went out at 9pm, something neither of us have done in around 2 years!
Normally we go out between 11pm and 1am, but hey ho we were out to break the norm.
I slipped on my new round neck slashed black tee, and jeans and slathered on a bit of fake tan and we were off.
Ican't really remember being in the Kings Cross, but then we were in Icon. Here we saw Oli's one time date, we shall call Leon, and he had a friend with him.
Said friend had a mole on his top lip, and was a nice guy, if on the higher part of curvy.
So anyway in Icon they were giving out free shots of Rum and Coke, me and Oli were enjoying this very much.
Cut to us several drinks later rather tipsy, a lot of the rest of the night is quite a blur, but the next thing I know I am in Exit - a nightclub that has not closed in 17 years, open even on xmas day - in Exit I am dancing on the steps leading to the dancefloor, like I am Madonna on the Sticky and Sweet tour, having my opening night in Cardiff, and addressing my adoring public. In reality I am addressing a guy who looks like Mr Muscle from the 90's, a guy who looks like he is in his 90's and half of the council estate in Ely. But hey beggars can't be choosers. We meet up with Nicole and Elaine a lesbian couple who are bordering in between Bench wearing dykes and lipstick lesbians with a certain panache.
I can't recall much of the conversation but I like to think in my drunken stooper I still have some sort of intelligent conversation left in me.
Well I am dancing alone - every gay should, we are too fabulous - and then Aggy comes stumbling in.
According to Aggy he asked me for a drink, and I handed him a £20, even though in his words he could hear my dancing from down the street with all the coins in my pocket - the actual amount the next day was £27 in £1 coins.
So the rest of the night seemed to pass quite uneventfully, and I found myself in Chippy Alley, demanding vegetarian food at 4am as usual.
The next day I awoke and felt okay and called Oli.
It turns out Oli actually slept with Leon's friend! You know moley, this is not the best part, Oli believes he actually fell asleep during sex!!!!
Oli woke up alone in his flat, with not so much as a post it on the pillow next to him! Men are bastards, I mean how shit would you feel if your shag fell asleep mid way through your best moves?!
So that was our unplanned night out, this weekend we are all attending a charity event in a small town called Bridgend, the town is actually getting smaller due to the majority of the towns people commiting suicide (check it out if you don't believe me).
So this weekend should provide me with lots of stories for you all.
So I bought a 4 pack of Stella Artois (we were trying to be butch, but that is all we could manager) and a 70cl bottle of Vodka.
So we are sat there with the gorgeous sun beating down on us, enjoying some al fresco drinks when Oli comes out with the revelation that he is actually not due into work until Sunday afternoon.
So after devouring the majority of the alcohol and listening to many hours of diva's singing, we decide we are owed a night out!
We actually went out at 9pm, something neither of us have done in around 2 years!
Normally we go out between 11pm and 1am, but hey ho we were out to break the norm.
I slipped on my new round neck slashed black tee, and jeans and slathered on a bit of fake tan and we were off.
Ican't really remember being in the Kings Cross, but then we were in Icon. Here we saw Oli's one time date, we shall call Leon, and he had a friend with him.
Said friend had a mole on his top lip, and was a nice guy, if on the higher part of curvy.
So anyway in Icon they were giving out free shots of Rum and Coke, me and Oli were enjoying this very much.
Cut to us several drinks later rather tipsy, a lot of the rest of the night is quite a blur, but the next thing I know I am in Exit - a nightclub that has not closed in 17 years, open even on xmas day - in Exit I am dancing on the steps leading to the dancefloor, like I am Madonna on the Sticky and Sweet tour, having my opening night in Cardiff, and addressing my adoring public. In reality I am addressing a guy who looks like Mr Muscle from the 90's, a guy who looks like he is in his 90's and half of the council estate in Ely. But hey beggars can't be choosers. We meet up with Nicole and Elaine a lesbian couple who are bordering in between Bench wearing dykes and lipstick lesbians with a certain panache.
I can't recall much of the conversation but I like to think in my drunken stooper I still have some sort of intelligent conversation left in me.
Well I am dancing alone - every gay should, we are too fabulous - and then Aggy comes stumbling in.
According to Aggy he asked me for a drink, and I handed him a £20, even though in his words he could hear my dancing from down the street with all the coins in my pocket - the actual amount the next day was £27 in £1 coins.
So the rest of the night seemed to pass quite uneventfully, and I found myself in Chippy Alley, demanding vegetarian food at 4am as usual.
The next day I awoke and felt okay and called Oli.
It turns out Oli actually slept with Leon's friend! You know moley, this is not the best part, Oli believes he actually fell asleep during sex!!!!
Oli woke up alone in his flat, with not so much as a post it on the pillow next to him! Men are bastards, I mean how shit would you feel if your shag fell asleep mid way through your best moves?!
So that was our unplanned night out, this weekend we are all attending a charity event in a small town called Bridgend, the town is actually getting smaller due to the majority of the towns people commiting suicide (check it out if you don't believe me).
So this weekend should provide me with lots of stories for you all.
Text message of hell
Ok, so I have just done something that I am pretty sure I am gonna get fired for.
I was sat here this afternoon and decided to text Oli and Aggy and said:
"I am so fed up of this place, just had a good bitching session with J, and now Jim (the boss) wants to have a chat with me this afternoon, he keeps asking if I am ok, think he thinks I am mad hahaha"
So I press send and what have I done? Only gone and text my fucking boss!
What am I gonna do? I am debating whether to just not mention anything and pretend it never happened, and if he brings it up just act all shocked and apologise, blaming it on stress and say that I am ill, or just running out of the building now and save the embarrassment.
I am literally dying inside right now, things like this ALWAYS happen to me, and I did say that I hate Monday mornings.
On reflection what I said was not really that bad a message, and it could have been a lot worse, but I am just bricking it now.
My life is a series of calamity and disaster, and it is glaringly evident I am to my office building what Kirstie Alley is to Jenny Craig - a fat embarrasment that should have stayed at home.
Shit, Shit, Shit, fuck, fuck, fuckity, fuck!!!!!!!!
I was sat here this afternoon and decided to text Oli and Aggy and said:
"I am so fed up of this place, just had a good bitching session with J, and now Jim (the boss) wants to have a chat with me this afternoon, he keeps asking if I am ok, think he thinks I am mad hahaha"
So I press send and what have I done? Only gone and text my fucking boss!
What am I gonna do? I am debating whether to just not mention anything and pretend it never happened, and if he brings it up just act all shocked and apologise, blaming it on stress and say that I am ill, or just running out of the building now and save the embarrassment.
I am literally dying inside right now, things like this ALWAYS happen to me, and I did say that I hate Monday mornings.
On reflection what I said was not really that bad a message, and it could have been a lot worse, but I am just bricking it now.
My life is a series of calamity and disaster, and it is glaringly evident I am to my office building what Kirstie Alley is to Jenny Craig - a fat embarrasment that should have stayed at home.
Shit, Shit, Shit, fuck, fuck, fuckity, fuck!!!!!!!!
Monday Morning
I absolutely detest Monday mornings perhaps even more than Sunday evenings!
Sunday evenings are horrendous for me, I sit at home filled with anxiety at the thought of dragging myself to work and to have to sit here for another week, listening to homophobic, racist and sexist jokes from a load of sea cows in suits.
There is nothing at all that I enjoy about my job, I spend from 9am to 5pm every day not talking to anyone unless my phone rings and 90% of the time that is Aggy talking a load of shit at me.
I have been spending the last 2 weeks surfing the internet looking for new jobs, the situation has gotten so bad that this morning I even applied for a job, where one of the specifications was:
"previous experience in a fast food environment would be advantageous"
I was typing away and e-mailing my CV quicker than you can say "do you want fries with that?"
Is this what my life has become, where I would turn away from a personal assistant/admin job to serve fat people in a fast food joint? I believe it has.
If anyone reading this feels that they would like to offer me a role where I can actually interact with others and would get a degree of enjoyment out of my working day, please feel free to contact me! I would be willing to take a pay cut (as you can see from my application to a fast food restaurant!)
This place is slowly killing me and forcing me to live my life venting my anger through my blog.
There is no juicy celebrity news to report on today so no doubt I will be forced to reveal just how much of a piss head I was over the weekend, in my postings this afternoon. There you go something for you to look forward to.
Sunday evenings are horrendous for me, I sit at home filled with anxiety at the thought of dragging myself to work and to have to sit here for another week, listening to homophobic, racist and sexist jokes from a load of sea cows in suits.
There is nothing at all that I enjoy about my job, I spend from 9am to 5pm every day not talking to anyone unless my phone rings and 90% of the time that is Aggy talking a load of shit at me.
I have been spending the last 2 weeks surfing the internet looking for new jobs, the situation has gotten so bad that this morning I even applied for a job, where one of the specifications was:
"previous experience in a fast food environment would be advantageous"
I was typing away and e-mailing my CV quicker than you can say "do you want fries with that?"
Is this what my life has become, where I would turn away from a personal assistant/admin job to serve fat people in a fast food joint? I believe it has.
If anyone reading this feels that they would like to offer me a role where I can actually interact with others and would get a degree of enjoyment out of my working day, please feel free to contact me! I would be willing to take a pay cut (as you can see from my application to a fast food restaurant!)
This place is slowly killing me and forcing me to live my life venting my anger through my blog.
There is no juicy celebrity news to report on today so no doubt I will be forced to reveal just how much of a piss head I was over the weekend, in my postings this afternoon. There you go something for you to look forward to.
Friday 9 April 2010
QUOTE OF THE DAY
"We are concerned about AIDS inside our White House - make no mistake about it"
The ever intelligent George W.Bush
Tranmeister Heroin?!
So it would appear that the Tranmeister general has dipped her toe into the world of Heroin (no news there you may think).
During a drug raid this week, the police found over 400 bags of Heroin, and each one was stamped with the words "Lady Gaga".
Were these her personal stash for the next leg of her "spread the tran and the glitter" tour?
She did use a lot while down under........
Life in Cardiff
How I so wish that this was like "Sex and the City", but we are talking about Cardiff, the shitty city.
Well life in Cardiff is never exactly how it seems.
Recently the city had a bit of a makeover, with a new shopping centre and a John Lewis. (But still the homosexual community are mainly unemployed and still wearing Primark?)
This makeover has made the city slightly more preasantable to tourists, and a lot of the valleys lot like to go to Jamie Olivers restaurant of a weekend (not really sure why? Do they think he is in the kitchen cooking? It is a franchise for fuck's sake, you can go to Sainsburys and buy the stuff in jars for a fraction of the cost!) But hey if they want to feel some worth for an afternoon, go ahead, in the meantime all the Cardiffians will continue to use Nando's when feeling flash, and chippy alley at other times.
In the many, many bars in Cardiff, you will be greeted by a toilet attendant offering to wash your hands, and a lollipop(just what you need when your pissed, a lollipop covered in urine and faeces). The odd thing is, that ALL toilet attendant's are unable to speak correct English, except for my favourite thing any has ever said to me:
"No splash, No gash"
As you can imagine, I was loving this attendant all night, carting people in and out, to hear his little phrase, like he was a toy and I was pulling his string on his back to make him talk.
Another odd thing is a Clarke's Pie.
Apparently these are world famous (google it) and people come from far and wide to savour these items, I personally have never tried one as I am a Vegetarian, but I will now ask around just for you, so you may know what one is like.
People in Cardiff, love a Clarke's Pie, and Dorothy's fish and chip shop stocks them, and at 3am on a weekend night you will often see girls wearing too tight, too short dresses, covered in fake tan, with their meat head boyfriends wearing too tight too short shirts with fake tan, staggering around with a Clarke's Pie looking like the cast of Jersey Shore.
It seems Cardiff is full of Guido's and Guidette's who just miss out the gym part.
I used to live in an area called Newport Road, just up from there is an area called Broadway (not to be confused with NYC Believe me!!).
This is an interesting area, where you will find public houses containing predominantly white, welsh people listening to reggae music like they are in Jamaica, and take away's where a fight will happen if someone takes the last battered sausage.
You will also stumble across a brothel called Angels, which I assume contains none.
Opposite the brothel, coincidentally is a homeless shelter! From the gutter, and down the drain so to speak.
Also of interest is Ely and Splott, you can put these areas in the same pile really. Full of Jeremy Kyle's next round of guests possibly taking him up to 2013.
The teenagers in Cardiff all seem to think they are from the bronx, and that they are black, when in fact they are whiter than Casper the friendly ghost.
Me and Oli were walking from his apartment a few weeks ago, when we passed the most amazing man, he was wearing what can only be described as a Del Boy Trotter coat. He had more gold jewellery than Mr T and had a cigar and glasses with reaction lenses. This was not just what was amazing, he also sounded like a drag queens bastard child. Well we were in awe!
Cardiff has a few minor celebrities - I am not referring to Charlotte Church here, the majority of the celebrities are homeless or out on day release.
One is a very tall black man known simply as "Ninja", he carries drumsticks with him and plays the many trash cans of Cardiff, like the city is his instrument.
He wears an array of outfits from long black coats, to shirtless with shorts on. You can only really describe him as a tall version of Flava Flav.
Another was the Shakey Hand Man (rip) he would walk around smelling of piss, and looking like aunt sally had rejected his advances, trying to shake your hand.
There was a rumour that he was a millionaire and used to just walk around like that because he was mental - no evidence as yet!
There are the usual people with no teeth, asking for 20p to catch their train home, or to get a train to go to a funeral - while wearing jogging bottoms?!
They seem to have the memory of a goldfish as they ask the same question to the same people day in day out, never changing the story, maybe Cardiff Council hires them and gives them a script that they must never deviate from, very much like the actors in Madame Tussauds.
You never know!
So that is just a small snippet of what Cardiff has to offer, no doubt I will update you on more as the weeks, and months go by.
Well life in Cardiff is never exactly how it seems.
Recently the city had a bit of a makeover, with a new shopping centre and a John Lewis. (But still the homosexual community are mainly unemployed and still wearing Primark?)
This makeover has made the city slightly more preasantable to tourists, and a lot of the valleys lot like to go to Jamie Olivers restaurant of a weekend (not really sure why? Do they think he is in the kitchen cooking? It is a franchise for fuck's sake, you can go to Sainsburys and buy the stuff in jars for a fraction of the cost!) But hey if they want to feel some worth for an afternoon, go ahead, in the meantime all the Cardiffians will continue to use Nando's when feeling flash, and chippy alley at other times.
In the many, many bars in Cardiff, you will be greeted by a toilet attendant offering to wash your hands, and a lollipop(just what you need when your pissed, a lollipop covered in urine and faeces). The odd thing is, that ALL toilet attendant's are unable to speak correct English, except for my favourite thing any has ever said to me:
"No splash, No gash"
As you can imagine, I was loving this attendant all night, carting people in and out, to hear his little phrase, like he was a toy and I was pulling his string on his back to make him talk.
Another odd thing is a Clarke's Pie.
Apparently these are world famous (google it) and people come from far and wide to savour these items, I personally have never tried one as I am a Vegetarian, but I will now ask around just for you, so you may know what one is like.
People in Cardiff, love a Clarke's Pie, and Dorothy's fish and chip shop stocks them, and at 3am on a weekend night you will often see girls wearing too tight, too short dresses, covered in fake tan, with their meat head boyfriends wearing too tight too short shirts with fake tan, staggering around with a Clarke's Pie looking like the cast of Jersey Shore.
It seems Cardiff is full of Guido's and Guidette's who just miss out the gym part.
I used to live in an area called Newport Road, just up from there is an area called Broadway (not to be confused with NYC Believe me!!).
This is an interesting area, where you will find public houses containing predominantly white, welsh people listening to reggae music like they are in Jamaica, and take away's where a fight will happen if someone takes the last battered sausage.
You will also stumble across a brothel called Angels, which I assume contains none.
Opposite the brothel, coincidentally is a homeless shelter! From the gutter, and down the drain so to speak.
Also of interest is Ely and Splott, you can put these areas in the same pile really. Full of Jeremy Kyle's next round of guests possibly taking him up to 2013.
The teenagers in Cardiff all seem to think they are from the bronx, and that they are black, when in fact they are whiter than Casper the friendly ghost.
Me and Oli were walking from his apartment a few weeks ago, when we passed the most amazing man, he was wearing what can only be described as a Del Boy Trotter coat. He had more gold jewellery than Mr T and had a cigar and glasses with reaction lenses. This was not just what was amazing, he also sounded like a drag queens bastard child. Well we were in awe!
Cardiff has a few minor celebrities - I am not referring to Charlotte Church here, the majority of the celebrities are homeless or out on day release.
One is a very tall black man known simply as "Ninja", he carries drumsticks with him and plays the many trash cans of Cardiff, like the city is his instrument.
He wears an array of outfits from long black coats, to shirtless with shorts on. You can only really describe him as a tall version of Flava Flav.
Another was the Shakey Hand Man (rip) he would walk around smelling of piss, and looking like aunt sally had rejected his advances, trying to shake your hand.
There was a rumour that he was a millionaire and used to just walk around like that because he was mental - no evidence as yet!
There are the usual people with no teeth, asking for 20p to catch their train home, or to get a train to go to a funeral - while wearing jogging bottoms?!
They seem to have the memory of a goldfish as they ask the same question to the same people day in day out, never changing the story, maybe Cardiff Council hires them and gives them a script that they must never deviate from, very much like the actors in Madame Tussauds.
You never know!
So that is just a small snippet of what Cardiff has to offer, no doubt I will update you on more as the weeks, and months go by.
Open post to Whitney Houston
Dear Whitney,
to quote yourself, I have just 3 little words for you;
"Crack is Whack!"
to quote yourself, I have just 3 little words for you;
"Crack is Whack!"
Lots of Love
Mr Love's Opus
Trailer Park Queen
Here is a little image for you all to worship, set down your 4 pack of beer,and your share size bag of Dorito's. Adjust your trucker hat so you can view this properly, and lets remember when Brit Brit looked like Ripley and terrorised the whole of LA with her golf umbrella! Praise the lord of 7/11!!!
Hot mess Harry
So I saw this picture, and was wondering what the hell was going on.
Hot mess Prince Ginge, possibly getting some action from his granny's friends?
All I am saying is she better remove her gnashers before she gnoshes!
Agador Spartacus and me
So I briefly touched on my boyfriend Aggy earlier, but he is quite complex and I feel he deserves his own posting.
So when he reads this, he will kick off as usual, but by the end will be happy also as usual.
Aggy sounds like Alan Carr if Alan was from Swansea.
He looks quite manly and you would think he was straight until he unzipped his jacket to reveal a Tee emblazened with sequins and diamante, and then spoke with his high pitched voice.
The night I met Aggy I was in a local gay club called Pulse.
Pulse is an odd place, I don't feel like anyone should ever go there sober, you literally have to be so drunk you can not smell or taste anything (the room smells of feet and vinegar, and the beer tastes of farts). The clientelle are either fat dykes or skinny little queens, and the majority of homosexuals in Cardiff it would appear, are unemployed and buy their clothes in Primark.
So I was proper wasted and remember seeing this good looking guy dancing, and giving me the eye, the next thing I know we are kissing. This is when I blacked out.
So cut to me lying flat on my back the next morning, being woke up by a banging on my window - I lived in a ground floor flat at the time - having no recollection of what was happening, I opened the window, to someone saying, "it's me let me in", not knowing who me was I opened the door anyway, to be greeted by the guy from the night before, I recognised him but wondered who's voice that was, then he spoke again and realised it was Aggy's voice. I was so fucked we went back to bed.
So the next day, after talking with Aggy we kinda swapped numbers and did the usual thing.
I honestly did not think anything would come of it, mainly because I was not ready for anything, and Aggy was only 19 and I was 25, so did not really see how it would work.
One night about a week or so later, Aggy text me asking me out, I said no, but then Oli convinced me to go for a drink and to go to the same place as Aggy.
Aggy was there in the Kings Cross, with his friends.
We ended up spending our second night together.
As much as I did not want to admit it, I was liking Aggy.
So we kinda just saw each other for over a month, then on December 13th 2007 we officially got together.
In the early days, we did not see that much of each other, maybe 2 or 3 times a week, but we were cool.
After a couple of months I had to go to New York for a couple of days for a meeting with someone.
This happened to be over Valentines day, so when I came back I arranged for Aggy to meet me in the Kings Cross - He was late, so I was pissed, but I had bought him over a dozen red roses, and a new Tee, so he was happy.
We were going good together, the I had to say those 3 words.
Aggy did not bother saying them back for 2 months, when he was drunk one night.
Ever since that day he says it aroung 25 times an hour...!
So we moved in together, and we are probably 2 of the most argumentative people you would ever meet, we constantly argue, screaming shouting etc for at least 5 hours a week, but I am under the opinion that if you don't argue in a relationship, then there is no point being together, as there is no passion.
I would say Aggy is more like a woman than anyone I know, he has tantrums, he moans he has nothing to wear, he spends hours on the phone and all his friends are girls, but Aggy is Aggy.
So that is Aggy, he is what he is, he makes disgusting noises when he eats and irritates the fuck out of me, but I love him and he is my Aggy.
So when he reads this, he will kick off as usual, but by the end will be happy also as usual.
Aggy sounds like Alan Carr if Alan was from Swansea.
He looks quite manly and you would think he was straight until he unzipped his jacket to reveal a Tee emblazened with sequins and diamante, and then spoke with his high pitched voice.
The night I met Aggy I was in a local gay club called Pulse.
Pulse is an odd place, I don't feel like anyone should ever go there sober, you literally have to be so drunk you can not smell or taste anything (the room smells of feet and vinegar, and the beer tastes of farts). The clientelle are either fat dykes or skinny little queens, and the majority of homosexuals in Cardiff it would appear, are unemployed and buy their clothes in Primark.
So I was proper wasted and remember seeing this good looking guy dancing, and giving me the eye, the next thing I know we are kissing. This is when I blacked out.
So cut to me lying flat on my back the next morning, being woke up by a banging on my window - I lived in a ground floor flat at the time - having no recollection of what was happening, I opened the window, to someone saying, "it's me let me in", not knowing who me was I opened the door anyway, to be greeted by the guy from the night before, I recognised him but wondered who's voice that was, then he spoke again and realised it was Aggy's voice. I was so fucked we went back to bed.
So the next day, after talking with Aggy we kinda swapped numbers and did the usual thing.
I honestly did not think anything would come of it, mainly because I was not ready for anything, and Aggy was only 19 and I was 25, so did not really see how it would work.
One night about a week or so later, Aggy text me asking me out, I said no, but then Oli convinced me to go for a drink and to go to the same place as Aggy.
Aggy was there in the Kings Cross, with his friends.
We ended up spending our second night together.
As much as I did not want to admit it, I was liking Aggy.
So we kinda just saw each other for over a month, then on December 13th 2007 we officially got together.
In the early days, we did not see that much of each other, maybe 2 or 3 times a week, but we were cool.
After a couple of months I had to go to New York for a couple of days for a meeting with someone.
This happened to be over Valentines day, so when I came back I arranged for Aggy to meet me in the Kings Cross - He was late, so I was pissed, but I had bought him over a dozen red roses, and a new Tee, so he was happy.
We were going good together, the I had to say those 3 words.
Aggy did not bother saying them back for 2 months, when he was drunk one night.
Ever since that day he says it aroung 25 times an hour...!
So we moved in together, and we are probably 2 of the most argumentative people you would ever meet, we constantly argue, screaming shouting etc for at least 5 hours a week, but I am under the opinion that if you don't argue in a relationship, then there is no point being together, as there is no passion.
I would say Aggy is more like a woman than anyone I know, he has tantrums, he moans he has nothing to wear, he spends hours on the phone and all his friends are girls, but Aggy is Aggy.
So that is Aggy, he is what he is, he makes disgusting noises when he eats and irritates the fuck out of me, but I love him and he is my Aggy.
School days
I went to High School in a hideous little town called Merthyr Tydfil.
This high school was a catholic school, not a very enjoyable place for a normal teen, never mind a gay one.
When I first got there I was rather round in shape and had a fetching pudding bowl haircut - I am convinced they were all the rage in 1995 - I used to wear the full uniform with a lovely maroon v neck knitted sweater, and grey slacks.
I even had some gorgeous glasses that Deidre Barlow would have killed for, basically I was a perfect target for bullies, and I would have bullied myself to be honest!
I can't really recall being anything interesting back then other than perhaps a little geeky, I used to get 100% on religious education exams, and was still an alter boy in the local church(basically perfect for a paedophile priest to try it on, but I was so hideous not even he wanted a bit!).
So for the first 2 years I sort of just plodded along, before geek chic was even around, learning nothing, loving Eternal for some reason.
Then I hit the age of 13, and discovered alcohol, sex, and drugs.
And also the Spice Girls.
So me and my friends........we shall call them Gill - Lesbian, Brian - Homo, and Helen - hetero but loved the cock, were all getting pretty close. There were others and they were equally hilarious, but I shall refer to them later.
So anyway we were not the most well behaved kids around, we had a science teacher names Dr Jones, and unfortunate for him, the Aqua song Dr Jones had just come out, so we would sing that at him every given opportunity. From his laboratory I would steal many items, and my bedroom was always full of bunsen burners - though quite what I would do with them is beyond me.
I will always remember me, Gill, Brian, Helen, Stephanie(flame haired amazing girl with the funniest sense of humour ever) and a couple of others were smoking in the girls toilets while bunking off lessons, when all of a sudden a couple of teachers came down, one of them Mrs Felton - think the trunchbull off Matilda only more butch - who spoke with a proper London accent started trying to kick the door down. She eventually got us out and thought we were having an orgy (these catholics have filthy minds) to which, me and Gill had to profess we were gay, this seemed to make her even worse, we were all seperated and taken to see the head teacher - Mr Gay, which as you can imagine caused great delight for us, with a name like that.
I can't recall if we were suspended or put in isolation that time, but that was an eventfull day.
There were many occasions when we were all in trouble, and when GCSE time came, and went, I was the only one left in the 6th form, the others all went on to college.
I found 6th form hard, I was alone, I was gay and the people left all wanted academic lives,while I wanted an artistic life of fashion, art, music and drugs.
The only thing I found myself getting was the drugs.
The 6th form was not eventfull but I still left school at 18 with 4 A Levels, only 1 from the school, the other 3 from night classes in the college.
So when I was 13 just to fly back, I shared with my friends my sexuality, swearing them not to tell anyone, Brian was still closeted then, and proceeded to tell everyone I was gay!
At the time I felt it was awful but looking back I am glad, as I loved being the outcast and know that everyone would always remember me.
We went away one year on a religious excursion to a place called Kinterbury.
This was a kinda gay versus straight excursion, me, Gill, Brian, Stephanie and Jessica(straight but fag hag) against the rest (can't even be bothered to name them, as I can't recall).
Our teacher was Miss O'halloran a chain smoking egg shaped woman, who because she never married we all assumed was a big fat dyke - kids think anyone who is not married is gay it seems.
When we arrived, we were intoduced the nuns and monks and the other schools, there was one nun in particular called Rose, who it turned out was the cook, so we fondly called her Rose the Cooking Nun (imaginitive as teens).
We were meant to learn about ourselves there, all we did was drink and smoke and cause damage to various parts of the building, including smashing a statue of an eagle, we aptly named eagle eye cherry.
Those few days were quite possibly the best memories I have of school, other than being made to go to meditation with a nun at the high school, and someone always falling asleep or farting.
I can't really recall much more of school, but should anymore come back I will be sure to write about it.
This high school was a catholic school, not a very enjoyable place for a normal teen, never mind a gay one.
When I first got there I was rather round in shape and had a fetching pudding bowl haircut - I am convinced they were all the rage in 1995 - I used to wear the full uniform with a lovely maroon v neck knitted sweater, and grey slacks.
I even had some gorgeous glasses that Deidre Barlow would have killed for, basically I was a perfect target for bullies, and I would have bullied myself to be honest!
I can't really recall being anything interesting back then other than perhaps a little geeky, I used to get 100% on religious education exams, and was still an alter boy in the local church(basically perfect for a paedophile priest to try it on, but I was so hideous not even he wanted a bit!).
So for the first 2 years I sort of just plodded along, before geek chic was even around, learning nothing, loving Eternal for some reason.
Then I hit the age of 13, and discovered alcohol, sex, and drugs.
And also the Spice Girls.
So me and my friends........we shall call them Gill - Lesbian, Brian - Homo, and Helen - hetero but loved the cock, were all getting pretty close. There were others and they were equally hilarious, but I shall refer to them later.
So anyway we were not the most well behaved kids around, we had a science teacher names Dr Jones, and unfortunate for him, the Aqua song Dr Jones had just come out, so we would sing that at him every given opportunity. From his laboratory I would steal many items, and my bedroom was always full of bunsen burners - though quite what I would do with them is beyond me.
I will always remember me, Gill, Brian, Helen, Stephanie(flame haired amazing girl with the funniest sense of humour ever) and a couple of others were smoking in the girls toilets while bunking off lessons, when all of a sudden a couple of teachers came down, one of them Mrs Felton - think the trunchbull off Matilda only more butch - who spoke with a proper London accent started trying to kick the door down. She eventually got us out and thought we were having an orgy (these catholics have filthy minds) to which, me and Gill had to profess we were gay, this seemed to make her even worse, we were all seperated and taken to see the head teacher - Mr Gay, which as you can imagine caused great delight for us, with a name like that.
I can't recall if we were suspended or put in isolation that time, but that was an eventfull day.
There were many occasions when we were all in trouble, and when GCSE time came, and went, I was the only one left in the 6th form, the others all went on to college.
I found 6th form hard, I was alone, I was gay and the people left all wanted academic lives,while I wanted an artistic life of fashion, art, music and drugs.
The only thing I found myself getting was the drugs.
The 6th form was not eventfull but I still left school at 18 with 4 A Levels, only 1 from the school, the other 3 from night classes in the college.
So when I was 13 just to fly back, I shared with my friends my sexuality, swearing them not to tell anyone, Brian was still closeted then, and proceeded to tell everyone I was gay!
At the time I felt it was awful but looking back I am glad, as I loved being the outcast and know that everyone would always remember me.
We went away one year on a religious excursion to a place called Kinterbury.
This was a kinda gay versus straight excursion, me, Gill, Brian, Stephanie and Jessica(straight but fag hag) against the rest (can't even be bothered to name them, as I can't recall).
Our teacher was Miss O'halloran a chain smoking egg shaped woman, who because she never married we all assumed was a big fat dyke - kids think anyone who is not married is gay it seems.
When we arrived, we were intoduced the nuns and monks and the other schools, there was one nun in particular called Rose, who it turned out was the cook, so we fondly called her Rose the Cooking Nun (imaginitive as teens).
We were meant to learn about ourselves there, all we did was drink and smoke and cause damage to various parts of the building, including smashing a statue of an eagle, we aptly named eagle eye cherry.
Those few days were quite possibly the best memories I have of school, other than being made to go to meditation with a nun at the high school, and someone always falling asleep or farting.
I can't really recall much more of school, but should anymore come back I will be sure to write about it.
My previous bosses
So I did say in a previous post how I would tell you all about my previous bosses, and if I am gonna say I will do something 50% of the time I will!
So way back when, when I was just 16 I decided to get a job, well not so much decided as, I kinda wrote some checks out from my fathers check book and cashed them, so I needed to pay my parents back - don't judge I was 16 and gay and living in a small town, we all need some Prada in our lives! Anyway I went to the local fast food restaurant, which I shall not name but it was run by a corporate clown who still makes me petrified as night, I never got to meet said clown, but his face was on many, many walls in this restaurant (as they liked to call it).
So I got the job, and was not very good at the whole cooking fried products etc, so they tried me on the tills, this was not really my forte either, as I found I liked taking the customers money but could not really grasp the idea of giving them their fried goods.
So I was eventually put on to what they called Lobby duty - basically it was cleaning the tables, I noticed this was where they put people who could not speak English or were in some way less able than others, to put it politely.
I was on here with another girl who similar to me, could not really be bothered with the cooking or serving of fat people. So we just sort of hung out by the bins and chilled, we had something called a lobby cupboard where napkins, straws and mops were kept, and we would take it in turns to go down and pretend a customer had spilt a drink, or knocked over their fries and then stand in our cupboard eating and drinking all day.
Our boss was a little Spanish Chica called Rosie, and that bitch was fierce! She had skin like an ape and lipstick like Paris Hilton, and was the same height as a 7 year old child, when she was actually around 60. If you have ever been to Spain and seen those women standing outside their houses with black hair and shawls draped over them that was Rosie.
Rosie it seemed knew 3 words in English and these were "Mop da floor!"She would balk these words at everyone, including on occasion customers. I always liked Rosie, with her cute little bun, and her gazillion stars strapped to her name badge, I felt she was a bit of a gay icon in waiting. When I went to University, I don't think she ever even noticed I had gone, I went in there on a break from University and she asked me to "Mop da floor!" and assumed I still worked there. I guess all white, british kids looked the same to her.
Whilst in University, I actually got transferred to another of those restaurants, and worked for relatively normal people, which was quite disappointing, I almost wanted them to be freaks there, but I liked the management and was actually friends outside of work with them. To be honest my University years were spent not really ever going to uni and working there most of the time - really do not know how I ever passed, but I did!
So I graduated and thought that the world of fashion would open up to me and embrace my new qualifications and spirit, but it never did. So I took a role in a well known department store, working to start with on the childrens wear section, here was a woman who was balding and would have been attractive had it not been for her Homer Simpson comb over, but she was nice none the less.
I worked there steadily before being transferred on to Womens wear, here I met one of my closest friends, who we shall call Regina.
We used to kinda just take the piss all day, out of the customers, other members of staff, each other no one was safe. Our boss there was a lady called Mary, and she looked like she was born Mark. She was an amazonian by anyones standards and had legs like a rugby player, with varicous veins to match. She seemed to take a shine to me, and would ask me to help her decide if an outfit looked nice on her, said outfits often showed her legs, which was not something a man of 22 ever wanted to see.
Just below Mary, and just above the height of a Smurf was Sue.
Now Sue was the one who would provide me with the most entertainment and me and Reg with the most jokes. She was around 2 foot tall (slight exageration) with a prominent mole on her face and coffee breath that a maths teacher would have been proud of.
Sue would walk around trying to tell people what to do and failing miserably, she would always designate people areas and then stand around looking like Jimmy Krankeys long lost sister all day.
Every year Sue would go away to Disney World with her husband and 30 year old son, well you can imagine the jokes that me and Reg would have about Sue and her mole on the log flumes, sue and her mole with Mickey and Minnie, the list was endless.
So I got fired from that store after over 2 years, and I will not go into detail yet on why, but will do in later posts when I decide you all love me enough.
So I was unemployed with a useless artsey degree under my belt, when I decided to apply for a role with a catalogue style shop, I was succesfull!
I turned up for work and got to wear a lovely electric blue t shirt, which obviously went with my skin tone (ahem).
This place was full of fucking freaks, kids who had left school at 16, council estate chic at it's best.
The manager had a Farah Fawcett flick and an Anne Widecombe body, but she thought she was divine! Mincing around like she owned the company in her wannabe Chanel jacket, that actually came from Evans. She used to try and join in with everyone's jokes but ended up just stood there feeling awkward, she was not really very interesting and the funniest thing about her was her looks.
So I was then offered a role within an office, while I was serving the recruitment department on the tills, they, I like to think, head hunted me. So I turn up for the interview and get the job. I was not aware this would be a call centre. I was not amused, however this was when I was still smoking, so was rather happy that they had a smoking room, I used to love sitting in a glass room, with my Marlboro Lights, puffing away like there was no tomorrow. If you looked at the room from outside it looked like the smoke monster off of Lost had set up home and that was his lounge.
The manager here was basically a drag queen disguised in an 80 year old womans body, she was amazing, she would sit in her office, voice like Phyllis off Coronation St, and the face and body of Bet Gilroy, and she would wear ACTUAL Chanel. I can't recall her name but I was quite taken with her. Little did I know that this job was only temporary, so I once again found myself unemployed - this seemed to be becoming a regular occurance.
So cut to me, having a few temping positions, not really being bothered and plodding along with my life, when I decided to take a job with a major gas and electricity company, again in a call centre.
This was a job that amused me greatly, not only for the fact that at least once a week, I would have a tranny call me up in a very deep voice to tell me they were in fact a Ms and not a Mr. I knew the mute button was there for a reason.
So the boss here was an interesting little thing called Natalia (fake name - I still know of this one).
She would wear, what she herself described as, Hooker boots, and had a lovely tide line around her moon shaped face where her make up would never meet her neck. Her eyeshadow was black and made her look like she always had 2 black eyes. (If anyone would like to really know what she looks like please google the drag queen Miss Kitty of Cardiff, Wales and that is basically her twin). Well Natalia it seemed enjoyed a drink, more than anything in the world. And so do I, this led to a friendship developing (if you can call drinking buddies a friendship) and many drunken nights entailed. The bonus of this was that if I was late it would be because I was out with Natalia and she would be late as well. She would often stay over my house, and would often go into work for 3-4 days in the same make up and her thick black hair hanging by her moon shaped face.
she would occasionally change her clothes - if she had time to go to Primark that is.
She would then also get high street vouchers for us, so that we could go and but wine from a local supermarket so we could go out that night.
I was eventually moved away from this boss, as she was having a detrimental affect on everyone who she went out drinking with and eventually left this company to go on to work for a mobile phone company.
Here I had a boss, who I was convinced was Gay, but he is still deeply in the closet and refusing to admit to himself that he is a raving poof.
He had no management skills and could not control me, I was still pretty wild at this point even though I was 23 nearly 24.
I was eventually fired from here, after a heavy drinking session, I got into work on time, but I had an evian bottle filled with red wine at my desk, and was very very drunk. The thing was they never even noticed that I was drinking it until I was on my last glass of red!
So I was suspended for 2 weeks, and went on holiday to Barcelona, when I came back I was fired.
The next job I had was nothing to write home about, and when I acquired £1000 I decided to quit, after being told by my chinese boss, upon hearing my ring tone, " I thought it would have been Boy George or the Pet Shop Boys!" How I wish I could have said something racially insensitive but alas I was not quick enough. Upon gaining the £1000 I thought I was rich beyond my wildest dreams, and eventually spent this within 2 days.
Shit I needed a job.
So I applied to work in a place that was a marketing company, basically doing a little promotional work for several companies, this was one of the best jobs I ever had, because the people I worked with were amazing, but also 1 of the worst due to no holiday pay or sick pay.
So the boss here was called Tammy and had a couple of sidekicks, called Jess aka Moonpig and Annie aka the truffle snuffler. Tammy was a raving dyke, who walked like she had rickets and had teeth bugs bunny would have been envious off. She always had a little kink in her bob, that irritated the fuck out of me, I wanted to much to straighten her hair that I think I developed a twitch.
So Moonpig tried to be everyone's best friend, backing caked every 2 minutes, it looked like she ate them every 2 minutes also. She is the type of fat friend that all skinny pretty girls have to make them look better on nights out. She used to wear some shocking make up, green eyeshadow, slathered all over her face. And her voice irritated me so much it is unbelievable.
The truffle snuffler was from some foreign country, I believe Norway and spoke with a stupid accent and walked a bit like a weeble (you remember "weebles wobble but they don't fall down")
she was evil personified and would think she was amazing, when in fact she was far from it.
99% of the people hated her and the remaining 1% hated her after fucking her.
The other management were all pretty douchey, especially one called Matt, who had a face only a mother could love - think sloth from the Goonies with glasses.
I liked 2 of the management who I am still friends with but they were normal, and used to enjoy the odd bit of narcotics along with myself and most of the people there. They know who they are so if they ever read this, hope you enjoy!
I left here and worked in a Limo sales place, the boss used to think he was part of Dragons Den, and once when I was arranging a coach for Duncan Banatynes health club, and they wanted to pay by check, he refused saying he was close personal friends with Duncan and knows he uses credit cards only, even though the health club had advised that they only use check's within the business. He used to drive his shitty sports car up and down outside and all the little chavs in the office would love it. His second in command was a guy called Alex. Alex was a dick of the highest standard, weighing over 20 stone, and professing that he was fit, he spoke an a mockney accent and thought he was the king of the office - he was not, my team leader was a guy called Gavin, and the only other person on the team was his girlfiend Janine. It was the most awkward situation as they argued more than any couple I have ever met.
It is obvious to me that they should not be together but alas as far as I am aware they still are.
I left here after telling them that I was severley ill and could never come back.
And now I am in my current position and have been for over a year, working for Jim, whom I told you about earlier - you know inhales food rather than chews.
I am sat here right now, Jim is on a course, and am bored out of my brains! Surely one day my big break will come and I will work in fashion or the media but until then, I will no doubt keep you informed of the many quirks and strange things that go on in the world of the office, and the many freaks that work in them.
Talking of which there is a guy sat in the same room as me with the most annoying laugh ever, and after 3 months of hearing it I could quite happily smash his head into the photocopier, but as he has just offered me a coffee (every day for a year I have advised I only drink water, but they still all offer me tea or coffee) so I will hold off on the violence for another day.
So way back when, when I was just 16 I decided to get a job, well not so much decided as, I kinda wrote some checks out from my fathers check book and cashed them, so I needed to pay my parents back - don't judge I was 16 and gay and living in a small town, we all need some Prada in our lives! Anyway I went to the local fast food restaurant, which I shall not name but it was run by a corporate clown who still makes me petrified as night, I never got to meet said clown, but his face was on many, many walls in this restaurant (as they liked to call it).
So I got the job, and was not very good at the whole cooking fried products etc, so they tried me on the tills, this was not really my forte either, as I found I liked taking the customers money but could not really grasp the idea of giving them their fried goods.
So I was eventually put on to what they called Lobby duty - basically it was cleaning the tables, I noticed this was where they put people who could not speak English or were in some way less able than others, to put it politely.
I was on here with another girl who similar to me, could not really be bothered with the cooking or serving of fat people. So we just sort of hung out by the bins and chilled, we had something called a lobby cupboard where napkins, straws and mops were kept, and we would take it in turns to go down and pretend a customer had spilt a drink, or knocked over their fries and then stand in our cupboard eating and drinking all day.
Our boss was a little Spanish Chica called Rosie, and that bitch was fierce! She had skin like an ape and lipstick like Paris Hilton, and was the same height as a 7 year old child, when she was actually around 60. If you have ever been to Spain and seen those women standing outside their houses with black hair and shawls draped over them that was Rosie.
Rosie it seemed knew 3 words in English and these were "Mop da floor!"She would balk these words at everyone, including on occasion customers. I always liked Rosie, with her cute little bun, and her gazillion stars strapped to her name badge, I felt she was a bit of a gay icon in waiting. When I went to University, I don't think she ever even noticed I had gone, I went in there on a break from University and she asked me to "Mop da floor!" and assumed I still worked there. I guess all white, british kids looked the same to her.
Whilst in University, I actually got transferred to another of those restaurants, and worked for relatively normal people, which was quite disappointing, I almost wanted them to be freaks there, but I liked the management and was actually friends outside of work with them. To be honest my University years were spent not really ever going to uni and working there most of the time - really do not know how I ever passed, but I did!
So I graduated and thought that the world of fashion would open up to me and embrace my new qualifications and spirit, but it never did. So I took a role in a well known department store, working to start with on the childrens wear section, here was a woman who was balding and would have been attractive had it not been for her Homer Simpson comb over, but she was nice none the less.
I worked there steadily before being transferred on to Womens wear, here I met one of my closest friends, who we shall call Regina.
We used to kinda just take the piss all day, out of the customers, other members of staff, each other no one was safe. Our boss there was a lady called Mary, and she looked like she was born Mark. She was an amazonian by anyones standards and had legs like a rugby player, with varicous veins to match. She seemed to take a shine to me, and would ask me to help her decide if an outfit looked nice on her, said outfits often showed her legs, which was not something a man of 22 ever wanted to see.
Just below Mary, and just above the height of a Smurf was Sue.
Now Sue was the one who would provide me with the most entertainment and me and Reg with the most jokes. She was around 2 foot tall (slight exageration) with a prominent mole on her face and coffee breath that a maths teacher would have been proud of.
Sue would walk around trying to tell people what to do and failing miserably, she would always designate people areas and then stand around looking like Jimmy Krankeys long lost sister all day.
Every year Sue would go away to Disney World with her husband and 30 year old son, well you can imagine the jokes that me and Reg would have about Sue and her mole on the log flumes, sue and her mole with Mickey and Minnie, the list was endless.
So I got fired from that store after over 2 years, and I will not go into detail yet on why, but will do in later posts when I decide you all love me enough.
So I was unemployed with a useless artsey degree under my belt, when I decided to apply for a role with a catalogue style shop, I was succesfull!
I turned up for work and got to wear a lovely electric blue t shirt, which obviously went with my skin tone (ahem).
This place was full of fucking freaks, kids who had left school at 16, council estate chic at it's best.
The manager had a Farah Fawcett flick and an Anne Widecombe body, but she thought she was divine! Mincing around like she owned the company in her wannabe Chanel jacket, that actually came from Evans. She used to try and join in with everyone's jokes but ended up just stood there feeling awkward, she was not really very interesting and the funniest thing about her was her looks.
So I was then offered a role within an office, while I was serving the recruitment department on the tills, they, I like to think, head hunted me. So I turn up for the interview and get the job. I was not aware this would be a call centre. I was not amused, however this was when I was still smoking, so was rather happy that they had a smoking room, I used to love sitting in a glass room, with my Marlboro Lights, puffing away like there was no tomorrow. If you looked at the room from outside it looked like the smoke monster off of Lost had set up home and that was his lounge.
The manager here was basically a drag queen disguised in an 80 year old womans body, she was amazing, she would sit in her office, voice like Phyllis off Coronation St, and the face and body of Bet Gilroy, and she would wear ACTUAL Chanel. I can't recall her name but I was quite taken with her. Little did I know that this job was only temporary, so I once again found myself unemployed - this seemed to be becoming a regular occurance.
So cut to me, having a few temping positions, not really being bothered and plodding along with my life, when I decided to take a job with a major gas and electricity company, again in a call centre.
This was a job that amused me greatly, not only for the fact that at least once a week, I would have a tranny call me up in a very deep voice to tell me they were in fact a Ms and not a Mr. I knew the mute button was there for a reason.
So the boss here was an interesting little thing called Natalia (fake name - I still know of this one).
She would wear, what she herself described as, Hooker boots, and had a lovely tide line around her moon shaped face where her make up would never meet her neck. Her eyeshadow was black and made her look like she always had 2 black eyes. (If anyone would like to really know what she looks like please google the drag queen Miss Kitty of Cardiff, Wales and that is basically her twin). Well Natalia it seemed enjoyed a drink, more than anything in the world. And so do I, this led to a friendship developing (if you can call drinking buddies a friendship) and many drunken nights entailed. The bonus of this was that if I was late it would be because I was out with Natalia and she would be late as well. She would often stay over my house, and would often go into work for 3-4 days in the same make up and her thick black hair hanging by her moon shaped face.
she would occasionally change her clothes - if she had time to go to Primark that is.
She would then also get high street vouchers for us, so that we could go and but wine from a local supermarket so we could go out that night.
I was eventually moved away from this boss, as she was having a detrimental affect on everyone who she went out drinking with and eventually left this company to go on to work for a mobile phone company.
Here I had a boss, who I was convinced was Gay, but he is still deeply in the closet and refusing to admit to himself that he is a raving poof.
He had no management skills and could not control me, I was still pretty wild at this point even though I was 23 nearly 24.
I was eventually fired from here, after a heavy drinking session, I got into work on time, but I had an evian bottle filled with red wine at my desk, and was very very drunk. The thing was they never even noticed that I was drinking it until I was on my last glass of red!
So I was suspended for 2 weeks, and went on holiday to Barcelona, when I came back I was fired.
The next job I had was nothing to write home about, and when I acquired £1000 I decided to quit, after being told by my chinese boss, upon hearing my ring tone, " I thought it would have been Boy George or the Pet Shop Boys!" How I wish I could have said something racially insensitive but alas I was not quick enough. Upon gaining the £1000 I thought I was rich beyond my wildest dreams, and eventually spent this within 2 days.
Shit I needed a job.
So I applied to work in a place that was a marketing company, basically doing a little promotional work for several companies, this was one of the best jobs I ever had, because the people I worked with were amazing, but also 1 of the worst due to no holiday pay or sick pay.
So the boss here was called Tammy and had a couple of sidekicks, called Jess aka Moonpig and Annie aka the truffle snuffler. Tammy was a raving dyke, who walked like she had rickets and had teeth bugs bunny would have been envious off. She always had a little kink in her bob, that irritated the fuck out of me, I wanted to much to straighten her hair that I think I developed a twitch.
So Moonpig tried to be everyone's best friend, backing caked every 2 minutes, it looked like she ate them every 2 minutes also. She is the type of fat friend that all skinny pretty girls have to make them look better on nights out. She used to wear some shocking make up, green eyeshadow, slathered all over her face. And her voice irritated me so much it is unbelievable.
The truffle snuffler was from some foreign country, I believe Norway and spoke with a stupid accent and walked a bit like a weeble (you remember "weebles wobble but they don't fall down")
she was evil personified and would think she was amazing, when in fact she was far from it.
99% of the people hated her and the remaining 1% hated her after fucking her.
The other management were all pretty douchey, especially one called Matt, who had a face only a mother could love - think sloth from the Goonies with glasses.
I liked 2 of the management who I am still friends with but they were normal, and used to enjoy the odd bit of narcotics along with myself and most of the people there. They know who they are so if they ever read this, hope you enjoy!
I left here and worked in a Limo sales place, the boss used to think he was part of Dragons Den, and once when I was arranging a coach for Duncan Banatynes health club, and they wanted to pay by check, he refused saying he was close personal friends with Duncan and knows he uses credit cards only, even though the health club had advised that they only use check's within the business. He used to drive his shitty sports car up and down outside and all the little chavs in the office would love it. His second in command was a guy called Alex. Alex was a dick of the highest standard, weighing over 20 stone, and professing that he was fit, he spoke an a mockney accent and thought he was the king of the office - he was not, my team leader was a guy called Gavin, and the only other person on the team was his girlfiend Janine. It was the most awkward situation as they argued more than any couple I have ever met.
It is obvious to me that they should not be together but alas as far as I am aware they still are.
I left here after telling them that I was severley ill and could never come back.
And now I am in my current position and have been for over a year, working for Jim, whom I told you about earlier - you know inhales food rather than chews.
I am sat here right now, Jim is on a course, and am bored out of my brains! Surely one day my big break will come and I will work in fashion or the media but until then, I will no doubt keep you informed of the many quirks and strange things that go on in the world of the office, and the many freaks that work in them.
Talking of which there is a guy sat in the same room as me with the most annoying laugh ever, and after 3 months of hearing it I could quite happily smash his head into the photocopier, but as he has just offered me a coffee (every day for a year I have advised I only drink water, but they still all offer me tea or coffee) so I will hold off on the violence for another day.
Lindsay Lohan
Right first things first I LOVE the hot mess known as La Lohan!
She provides literally millions of hours of entertainment to me, myself and I.
Who would have thought all those years ago, that ginger, freckly kid in the Parent Trap, would grow up to be a ginger, freckly kid getting stuck in bear traps while high on Ketamine?!
I for one did not see that coming.
Recently I have found myself buying many of her DVD's and enjoying them, whilst drinking copious amounts of Bombay Saphire.
One that I really do recommend is "I know who killed me", now that is a little gem of a film, where La Lohan plays not 1 but 2 characters! Something she has not done since "The Parent Trap", BUT do not get confused by the two, they are slightly different. In IKWKM the giner whinger is a good girl and a stripper, the good girl gets kidnapped by some psycho who cuts off limbs etc, the usual psycho's you meet in the street really, well while stripper Lohan is pole dancing for her life with Ru Paul, telling her to work it in her head, her limbs start falling off!
I personally would pay to see a strip tease where a girls leg just pops off half way through her going upside down on a pole, and the only pole I ever wanna see is connected to Jake Gyllenhall!
The long and the short of it - lets face facts you are never gonna wacth this film - is that they are twins, and are feeling each others pain! INGENIOUS!
I really feel that she displayed her acting skills and the academy of the golen raspberry obviously agreed with me, nominating her for both groundbreaking roles!
La Lohan was obviously gutted by the film not breaking box office records after she billed it as the new "Titanic" and thought this was the start of her new career as Hollywoods sweetheart.
So what does she do we all ask? Well what would you do! Become a Lesbian psychopath of course, stalking Sam the Man Ronson and generally going all single white female on her ass is just one of many tabloid gold worthy stories she provided the world with.
I think Lohan saw that trailer park diva Britney Spears was starting to stop walking the streets of LA like Ripley in Alien 3, wielding her umbrella like a gun, so Lohan saw an opening for a new nut job, after all Anna Nicole was gone, Brit Brit was sedated and Sherri Shepherd was going all Whoopi on us by presenting "The View". I feel La Lohan was doing this for us - her people.
If anyone has any other priceless little ginger gems for me to check out please let me know, but the other amazing little DVD's for you to rent from netflix are, "Georgia Rules" - Lohan gets sexually abused, they make a light hearted film about it, where Lohan hilariously moves to a small town and seduces half the male population, before the climax is she was molested by her step father, "Life Size" - Ty Ty Baby becomes Lohan's very own life size doll, very much like those one's that lonely balding fat men fuck when they can't get any Vag, but the dolls have more personality, expressions and communication than Tyra, and "Labour Pains" - Lohan fakes pregnancy, not really sure why, but how long till life imitates art?!
So lets all kneel at the alter of La Lohan and watch all her straight to DVD movies, whilst remembering a ginger is for life not just for sick jokes and quick pokes.
She provides literally millions of hours of entertainment to me, myself and I.
Who would have thought all those years ago, that ginger, freckly kid in the Parent Trap, would grow up to be a ginger, freckly kid getting stuck in bear traps while high on Ketamine?!
I for one did not see that coming.
Recently I have found myself buying many of her DVD's and enjoying them, whilst drinking copious amounts of Bombay Saphire.
One that I really do recommend is "I know who killed me", now that is a little gem of a film, where La Lohan plays not 1 but 2 characters! Something she has not done since "The Parent Trap", BUT do not get confused by the two, they are slightly different. In IKWKM the giner whinger is a good girl and a stripper, the good girl gets kidnapped by some psycho who cuts off limbs etc, the usual psycho's you meet in the street really, well while stripper Lohan is pole dancing for her life with Ru Paul, telling her to work it in her head, her limbs start falling off!
I personally would pay to see a strip tease where a girls leg just pops off half way through her going upside down on a pole, and the only pole I ever wanna see is connected to Jake Gyllenhall!
The long and the short of it - lets face facts you are never gonna wacth this film - is that they are twins, and are feeling each others pain! INGENIOUS!
I really feel that she displayed her acting skills and the academy of the golen raspberry obviously agreed with me, nominating her for both groundbreaking roles!
La Lohan was obviously gutted by the film not breaking box office records after she billed it as the new "Titanic" and thought this was the start of her new career as Hollywoods sweetheart.
So what does she do we all ask? Well what would you do! Become a Lesbian psychopath of course, stalking Sam the Man Ronson and generally going all single white female on her ass is just one of many tabloid gold worthy stories she provided the world with.
I think Lohan saw that trailer park diva Britney Spears was starting to stop walking the streets of LA like Ripley in Alien 3, wielding her umbrella like a gun, so Lohan saw an opening for a new nut job, after all Anna Nicole was gone, Brit Brit was sedated and Sherri Shepherd was going all Whoopi on us by presenting "The View". I feel La Lohan was doing this for us - her people.
If anyone has any other priceless little ginger gems for me to check out please let me know, but the other amazing little DVD's for you to rent from netflix are, "Georgia Rules" - Lohan gets sexually abused, they make a light hearted film about it, where Lohan hilariously moves to a small town and seduces half the male population, before the climax is she was molested by her step father, "Life Size" - Ty Ty Baby becomes Lohan's very own life size doll, very much like those one's that lonely balding fat men fuck when they can't get any Vag, but the dolls have more personality, expressions and communication than Tyra, and "Labour Pains" - Lohan fakes pregnancy, not really sure why, but how long till life imitates art?!
So lets all kneel at the alter of La Lohan and watch all her straight to DVD movies, whilst remembering a ginger is for life not just for sick jokes and quick pokes.
Thursday 8 April 2010
The Joys Of Lauren Harries
A QUICK BEFORE AND AFTER, U DECIDE WHICH IS BETTER
To those of you unfamiliar with the fabulous Miss Harries, she used to be a he, and he has appeared on Wogan in the UK and Oprah in the US(you can really see the difference, we have some fat old white Irish man, the US has some fat old black man).
He was an antiques expert in the 80's and early 90's, well I say expert he kinda just touched vases and said in a Margaret Thatcher voice that they were aged. I do that now when touching old women's breasts, although I do not end up on Oprah, just on Crimewatch.
Anyway when Lauren was James, he was a little odd, with pubes for hair and a wardrobe that Helena Bonham Carter would envy.
James went away to a magical cocoon and came out several years later as Lauren, who is very odd, with pubes for hair and a wardrobe Olivia Newton John and Sinitta rejected.
So when Lauren spread her celestial wings and flew from her cocoon, she spread glitter across the world, before finally settling on the city I currently live in, Cardiff.
Lauren has the face as Oli and Aggy both put it of a burns victim. It must have been hot in the magical cocoon known as Thailand.
Lauren is somewhat of a celebrity in the UK, appearing on several well known TV shows such as make me a beauty therapist on channel 5, and that is about it. Imagine my delight when I came across Lauren Harries:working 9 to 5 on an obscure channel called I think showtune or something along those lines. I caught 1 episode, before my eyes imploded at the sheer beauty of Ms Harries(is that what you call a tranny or is that just for Lesbians and divorcees - ooh the gay divorcee!)
I would recommend looking up the delights on youtube and you will truly see a great British beauty who puts Jodie Marsh and Jordan to shame!
Around 4 years ago an article appeared in the south wales Echo on Lauren and her family having been attacked (you can see this article online if you google it).
An amazing quote from Lauren was:
"He hit me with a slipper shoe, I was lucky it was not a stilleto shoe, or it could have done some serious damage!"
Ms Harries I salute you as you live your life spreading glitter and joy to those who revel in nothing more than loving a big old Freddy Krueger headed tranny!
I know I am now getting old
So I have now realised at the tender age of 27, that I am actually starting to get old.
I thought I had at least 10 years left of being young and carefree, but nope old age is already setting in! It all started 2 nights ago, I found myself home alone - The boyfriend, we shall call him Agador Spartacus or Aggy for short, had gone to the cinema with his "whoop whoop" girlfriends to see the latest shiteous film by Jennifer "I still love Brad" Anniston - so I thought I would have a nice relaxing bath in time to watch a particular TV program.
So I had my bath and then came downstairs in some sweat pants and a Tee, and lit some candles - still with me? - and then sat down to watch "the delicious miss dahl" on BBC2.
I remember just a couple of years ago, I would go out every night, wear fierce clothes, and in the words of Edward Cullen's female alter ego Ke$ha, brushed my teeth with a bottle of Jack(although I would have been much classier, like courvoisier or moet - I am a gay darling!).
After watching the show, and enjoying it I posted a status update on facebook and my BFF - who you will be hearing a lot about, we shall call him, Oliver or Oli for short, was doing the exact same thing and he is only 26!
I thought this was a one off, a glitch in my otherwise cool exterior, until last night came. I was alone until around 8.30pm as Aggy was working late, so I was flicking around on the TV channels, having a good old surf, when I came across BBC2. Well last nights treat came in the form of "the edible garden", well as you can imagine I was enthralled! Knitting needles in hand, ploughing away at my lap, like Jodie Marsh in Stringfellows! (I made that last bit up for effect)
The end of the show came, and they advertised their website, where you could obtain FREE seeds to start your own edible garden, well you can imagine me can't you! I was tapping away at that laptop like Boy George looking for his next hooker to cuff to the radiator and now my seeds (actual seeds not some rent boy's semen) are in the post!
I spoke with Oli, and obviously recommended him going on to the iplayer and having a gander, to which his reply was, "next you will be watching Murder She Wrote and lifetime movies!" the little bitch knows full well I do both. I like nothing better than spending an afternoon with Murder She wrote on the sky plus, fleecey throw over my legs watching to see who Jess Fletcher can frame for her next kill, she is the worlds biggest serial killer, the original Dexter and puts Harold Shipman to shame! If Rose "queen dyke" West could get her hands on her in Broadmoor, the world would surely come to an end!
I thought I had at least 10 years left of being young and carefree, but nope old age is already setting in! It all started 2 nights ago, I found myself home alone - The boyfriend, we shall call him Agador Spartacus or Aggy for short, had gone to the cinema with his "whoop whoop" girlfriends to see the latest shiteous film by Jennifer "I still love Brad" Anniston - so I thought I would have a nice relaxing bath in time to watch a particular TV program.
So I had my bath and then came downstairs in some sweat pants and a Tee, and lit some candles - still with me? - and then sat down to watch "the delicious miss dahl" on BBC2.
I remember just a couple of years ago, I would go out every night, wear fierce clothes, and in the words of Edward Cullen's female alter ego Ke$ha, brushed my teeth with a bottle of Jack(although I would have been much classier, like courvoisier or moet - I am a gay darling!).
After watching the show, and enjoying it I posted a status update on facebook and my BFF - who you will be hearing a lot about, we shall call him, Oliver or Oli for short, was doing the exact same thing and he is only 26!
I thought this was a one off, a glitch in my otherwise cool exterior, until last night came. I was alone until around 8.30pm as Aggy was working late, so I was flicking around on the TV channels, having a good old surf, when I came across BBC2. Well last nights treat came in the form of "the edible garden", well as you can imagine I was enthralled! Knitting needles in hand, ploughing away at my lap, like Jodie Marsh in Stringfellows! (I made that last bit up for effect)
The end of the show came, and they advertised their website, where you could obtain FREE seeds to start your own edible garden, well you can imagine me can't you! I was tapping away at that laptop like Boy George looking for his next hooker to cuff to the radiator and now my seeds (actual seeds not some rent boy's semen) are in the post!
I spoke with Oli, and obviously recommended him going on to the iplayer and having a gander, to which his reply was, "next you will be watching Murder She Wrote and lifetime movies!" the little bitch knows full well I do both. I like nothing better than spending an afternoon with Murder She wrote on the sky plus, fleecey throw over my legs watching to see who Jess Fletcher can frame for her next kill, she is the worlds biggest serial killer, the original Dexter and puts Harold Shipman to shame! If Rose "queen dyke" West could get her hands on her in Broadmoor, the world would surely come to an end!
My work
So I am sat here right now in my office, tucked away in the corner kinda away from everyone else pondering whether anyone is actually reading my blogs.
In the words of the one hit wonder Stacie Orrico - "there's gotta be more to life"
I am not designed to work, I do not enjoy it, on days off I do not get bored, and on the occasions in my past when I found myself out of work I thoroughly enjoyed it, except for the lack of money.
If I won the lottery tomorrow I would never work again, I fucking HATE people who say things like "I would be bored", "I would still work" yadda yadda yadda, don't play it then! Send me your dollars/pounds/euro's whatever currency you use!
Anyway the job I currently do is a personal assistant, and deal with a lot of shit off my fat
boss whom we shall call Jim - not like the one of Coronation Street, but now I have Beverley Callard saying Jim in my head through those HUGE teeth of hers.
I am forever being asked to write to people, call people, email people, make him drinks, do his online shopping, the list is endless!
When I accepted the role I assumed it would be all glamour a la "Ugly Betty" and "The Devil Wears Prada", but to my horror I am actually working for Jim aka Jabba the Hutt, and I do not look as good as Princess Leia in my bikini, it is all hairy nipples and tattoo's, not even Pamela Anderson can pull that off anymore!
So Jim is away on a course this week - I expect he is learning how to inhale fried chicken without removing the bones, or chewing, he is pretty close to nailing that already.
This leaves me able to sit here and blog all day while eating fruit and reading my lovely Linwood Barclay book.
Later in the series I shall tell you all about my many, many amusing bosses and shall keep you up to speed on the antics of Jim and his lovely family, from what I overhear his 16 year old son is always getting thrown out by his wife, I can't wait to see what delights Jim has to tell me after the Easter weekend!
In the words of the one hit wonder Stacie Orrico - "there's gotta be more to life"
I am not designed to work, I do not enjoy it, on days off I do not get bored, and on the occasions in my past when I found myself out of work I thoroughly enjoyed it, except for the lack of money.
If I won the lottery tomorrow I would never work again, I fucking HATE people who say things like "I would be bored", "I would still work" yadda yadda yadda, don't play it then! Send me your dollars/pounds/euro's whatever currency you use!
Anyway the job I currently do is a personal assistant, and deal with a lot of shit off my fat
boss whom we shall call Jim - not like the one of Coronation Street, but now I have Beverley Callard saying Jim in my head through those HUGE teeth of hers.
I am forever being asked to write to people, call people, email people, make him drinks, do his online shopping, the list is endless!
When I accepted the role I assumed it would be all glamour a la "Ugly Betty" and "The Devil Wears Prada", but to my horror I am actually working for Jim aka Jabba the Hutt, and I do not look as good as Princess Leia in my bikini, it is all hairy nipples and tattoo's, not even Pamela Anderson can pull that off anymore!
So Jim is away on a course this week - I expect he is learning how to inhale fried chicken without removing the bones, or chewing, he is pretty close to nailing that already.
This leaves me able to sit here and blog all day while eating fruit and reading my lovely Linwood Barclay book.
Later in the series I shall tell you all about my many, many amusing bosses and shall keep you up to speed on the antics of Jim and his lovely family, from what I overhear his 16 year old son is always getting thrown out by his wife, I can't wait to see what delights Jim has to tell me after the Easter weekend!
so first up is perez and gaga?!
WTF is up with them?!
Hollywood's most hated website - is it really anymore?
scrolling through the posts now, we see that 99% of them are on people that Perez loves, like Lady(cough cough)Gaga.
Personally I can not stand the fat, disgusting thing known as Perez Hilton, and the anorexic tran known as Lady Gaga, but I am strangely drawn to the site everyday (perhaps because it is one of the only sites my work allows me to go on).
What I don't really get is why he needs to call her/him his "wifey" or "gagaloo" and other such nonsensical names. The man must be around 30! WHY WHY WHY!!!!!
I am a Gay man myself but I do not feel the need to surround myself with Michael Alig - oops! sorry Lady Gaga and all their eccentric little club kid wannabes!(so Geraldo, so 90's)
Actually has anyone heard much on Michael Alig since the Tranmeister general came around?!
The "telephone" video was set in a prison, with Beyonce and her coat of many weaves breaking the tranmeister out of her butch bitch prison! Hmmmm something to think about, maybe Gaga is Alig (kinda similar) and Perez is James St James, but with much less style and talent!
So anyway, today I did my usual search on what goes on in the world of celebrity this morning, and I came across a post on perezhilton.com on a 15 year old kid from Tennesee, who wore a Tee to school that said I heart Lady Gay Gay! Why is that mother allowing a 15 year old boy to go to school in such tack!? This kid will get bullied to shit, he is not living in NYC or LA or anywhere with a bit of style and tollerance FFS!
This Tee it turns out is tour merchandise?! Why is the tranmeister calling herself Lady Gay Gay, as far as I was aware she was Bi Bi, but most women say they are to get a little peen now and then! (No need, most hetero men would fuck any tina, dick, or harry/sally after 1 too many Bud's!)
So the Tranmeister responds to this - through her publicist probably as she is always too coked up to even sing and perform anymore, did you see her down under? - by saying that her little "monster" (WTF) should be allowed to express their individuality or some other bull shit she comes out with on a daily basis.
Surely what we should be focusing on here is that the 15 year old boy should be concentrating on his education, not trying to start some gay rights movement to assist Tranmeister and her little Taco Bell (aka Perez) to have every gay man/women look ridiculous, covered in glitter with giant lobsters on their heads! What happened to when a young gay man would put their mothers pearls on, and heels and totter around thinking they are Joan Crawford or Madonna, wearing Dior and Chanel Couture? No, Just me? Okay lets forget that one then!
Hollywood's most hated website - is it really anymore?
scrolling through the posts now, we see that 99% of them are on people that Perez loves, like Lady(cough cough)Gaga.
Personally I can not stand the fat, disgusting thing known as Perez Hilton, and the anorexic tran known as Lady Gaga, but I am strangely drawn to the site everyday (perhaps because it is one of the only sites my work allows me to go on).
What I don't really get is why he needs to call her/him his "wifey" or "gagaloo" and other such nonsensical names. The man must be around 30! WHY WHY WHY!!!!!
I am a Gay man myself but I do not feel the need to surround myself with Michael Alig - oops! sorry Lady Gaga and all their eccentric little club kid wannabes!(so Geraldo, so 90's)
Actually has anyone heard much on Michael Alig since the Tranmeister general came around?!
The "telephone" video was set in a prison, with Beyonce and her coat of many weaves breaking the tranmeister out of her butch bitch prison! Hmmmm something to think about, maybe Gaga is Alig (kinda similar) and Perez is James St James, but with much less style and talent!
So anyway, today I did my usual search on what goes on in the world of celebrity this morning, and I came across a post on perezhilton.com on a 15 year old kid from Tennesee, who wore a Tee to school that said I heart Lady Gay Gay! Why is that mother allowing a 15 year old boy to go to school in such tack!? This kid will get bullied to shit, he is not living in NYC or LA or anywhere with a bit of style and tollerance FFS!
This Tee it turns out is tour merchandise?! Why is the tranmeister calling herself Lady Gay Gay, as far as I was aware she was Bi Bi, but most women say they are to get a little peen now and then! (No need, most hetero men would fuck any tina, dick, or harry/sally after 1 too many Bud's!)
So the Tranmeister responds to this - through her publicist probably as she is always too coked up to even sing and perform anymore, did you see her down under? - by saying that her little "monster" (WTF) should be allowed to express their individuality or some other bull shit she comes out with on a daily basis.
Surely what we should be focusing on here is that the 15 year old boy should be concentrating on his education, not trying to start some gay rights movement to assist Tranmeister and her little Taco Bell (aka Perez) to have every gay man/women look ridiculous, covered in glitter with giant lobsters on their heads! What happened to when a young gay man would put their mothers pearls on, and heels and totter around thinking they are Joan Crawford or Madonna, wearing Dior and Chanel Couture? No, Just me? Okay lets forget that one then!
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