December 2010
41 posts
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Factful Friday (Or, I Can't Be Bothered To Wait...
I really, really hate the term “Facebook rape” or “frape”. Because it’s not a rape, is it? A hijack, perhaps. But not a rape. I hate that such a serious word is being used to describe something as frivolous as your friend telling the world you did a poo, or that you’re secretly in love with Papa Smurf, or whatever. It’s such a triggering word for some...
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Adventures in Retail #1
About three years ago I was working in a supermarket on the shopfloor, a day or two before Christmas. A lady stopped me as I was walking past the gravy section, she was holding a jar of beef granules.
Customer: Excuse me, is this beef flavour gravy?
Me: Yes it is.
C: Oh. Does it come in any other flavours?
M: Yes, it also comes in chicken or onion.
C: Oh lovely! Which do you think my children...
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Merry Fucking Xmas
This morning Mike and I are blasting Foo Fighters, Deftones, Rage Against the Machine, Rammstein and more as loud as we can in our bedroom. Two reasons:
1) Good music
2)The fuckers next door were having a party with crappy bassy techno until gone 3:30 this morning.
I hope they’re still in bed and really, really hungover.
Edit: On second thought, this should really be a Festivus post....
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Pointless letters #3
Dear snow,
Please feck off, just for a couple of days. After that, go nuts.
Love, Emma
I want...
..to be home, in my pyjamas, on the sofa, feet up, cat sleeping on them and stitching whilst watching something funny. Oh, and a cup of tea with some biscuits.
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Pointless letter #2
Dear unborn child,
Please stop stomping on my bladder. Please?
Thanks, your mum. (Your mum, lol)
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Today's fact
Snow turns most Londoners into utter twats.
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I keep thinking it's Friday.
But it’s not. It’s Thursday. I never could get the hang of Thursdays.
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I'm tired,
I’m grumpy, (“I fed up with this world!”) so I’m listening to Elvis. Sort it out, King.
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Pointless letters #1
Dear grey haired bitch from the bus stop,
I have no time for your pity me bullshit. Not ever, but especially not today. You’re not even old, just grey, so stfu.
Love and kisses, Emma xx
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Frank update
He’s eaten a chicken breast in seemingly record time. Still a bit groggy and weird from the anaesthetic, but not at all grumpy. He’s happy to sit with us and have tickles. I’m sure the tuna dinner he’s having later will clear up any remaining resentment.
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It would appear that tumblr ate the Truthful Tuesday post that I had in my queue. Can’t be bothered to write it again. Thanks tumblr.
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A soap opera tale of stitchery
Dear rayon thread.
You lustrous, shiny, silky thing of beauty. I hate you. You make me sad. You look so lovely and gorgeous, a perfect little stitch, like a jewel on my aida. But the moment my eyes leave you to stitch you a friend, you morph and warp into a nasty, twisted little mess. “Fuck you”, you shout up at me. “I’m not your bitch!”. No, it seems you are not my...
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“Your face is your mom”
– beefranck
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mhandy1 asked: Why dont you use Disqus? Its really simple to integrate
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I need to get this off my chest.
Facebook “charity” memes.
“Change your profile picture to a cartoon character to stop child abuse.”
“Girls, let’s post the colour of our bras, the place we leave our handbags to sound cryptic or like an innuendo, to raise awareness for breast cancer.”
Etc.
Right. Ok. And nobody thought to post a link to donate money to these causes? Just slipped past...
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The perils of needlecraft
Somewhere at the bottom of my handbag, there is a needle. Sitting, waiting, biding it’s time. Then one day, when I least expect it, it will strike.