27 May 2010

This happened

This is my hand
Then I fake tanned, And this happened
Not a good look.

21 May 2010

Beautiful - Girl Crisis

I thought I was hungover yesterday...

Holy Sweet Jesus.
I thought I was hungover yesterday? That was nothing on today...I'm ill, I'm dying. I don't even care anymore, I'm about to walk out in my street and beg a car to hit me, I feel so unwell.

This should technically be a great hangover day, I have all the hangover food that I bought yesterday but didn't eat because I was out drinking again, I have the house (and thus, the remote)  to myself, I should have added tolerance to the pain because I just went through this yesterday, but somehow I feel so bad that nothing is good.
So I mentioned that I have so little time left in Dublin, I have decided to take all the oppurtunities to go out and do stuff I can. So yesterday, I was just drifting off into a end-of-hangover fug when my flattie texted to say lets go boozing outside in the Pav. I couldn't refuse. So, we went there, lots of Devils Bit cider.
Later we went to Base Bar, which is kind of the reason for this post. So Base Bar is a club just off Grafton Street and I've only been on  Thursday which is gay night.
It is an absolute whale of a time! Within minutes of being in there the hits were stacking up. We're talking Gaga, Cheryl, Beyonce and Robyn...diva-licious!

Being a single girl I don't often go to gay bars just because I'm usually on the hunt for a male who likes the female form but Base bar is a great spot. The drink is sooooo cheap! You can get a vodka and energy drink for €4 and a tequila for €2. Although, I really overdid it last night *stabs self in eye*

I love a good dance-y night out, just drink a few shots and then get on the dancefloor. Anyway I can't talk about this anymore. I'm going to murder myself then hopefully eat some garlic bread.

20 May 2010

Hungover to shit

Yes, so as previously mentioned I am hungover like a monkey who accidently drank the gamekeepers beer last night. Bleeuugghh. It's fun to spend Thursday in bed, hungover but the guilts are creeping in, assaulting my comfort and reminding me that I have shit to do. Fuck you guilt! Fuck you my Masters!

When you are hungover there are some things that should be done to ensure maximum illness-recovery and pleasure with minimum fuss or pain.

1)  Painkillers. Do not try to do this alone. You need a lil sumpin sumpin to get you through the initial horror of waking up remembering pint after pint and at least three shots and that wierd sticky brown stuff you had when you went back to that random party..oh fuck that random party. Did I really lick that guys dog's basket just because I was dared to?

2) After the painkillers have kicked in (just lie in bed moaning and trying to block out the half-formed memories for about half an hour), leave the bed, take the duvet and head to the nearest television set.

Hangover tv is very personal choice, my mum mostly prefers Greys Anatomy, my sister likes to catch up on current tv whereas I like to watch stuff I can cry to. In the past that has included an advertisment for arthritis medication (she used to be able to carry her shit back from the shops by herself and now she cant waaaaaaa), High School Musical (I've never been kissed on a rooftop in the rain waaaaaa), and Bones (he died in a giant tumble dryer, well he didn't...but his remains were put in a giant tumble dryer, waaaaa).
Thats a wierd fucking set of pictures. *shudder*

3) Ok, the next step is into another area of personal taste - the hanogver feed, with the added complexity of how broke you are after last night, what's in your fridge and how bad you are. The worst case scenario is that you are really ill, like boking ill and you have nooo money (in fact, you owe your flatmate a tenner for the taxi home) and the only things in your cupboard are the stale heels of a loaf, apples, a tin of diet soup and white sauce powder. You, my friend, are fucked. Go back to bed, this day ain't getting any better.
The best case scenario is you have some money left, a phone with credit, a friend who likes the same tv as you and a dominos menu. There is no pizza like hungover pizza and there is no better way of eating triple carbs than pizza-garlic bread-wedges. Even WRITING this is making me drool! Oh good times, and obviously hungover calories don't count.
This, to me, is the triumvirate. And if this shit is all up in the mix as well...well, now you've got a party.
Yes, this is garlic sauce. Double garlic you say? Yes, I say!

4) Ok, the tv is on, its a show you have already seen. The food is finished and the cartons are lying on the floor. You have talked about all the hideous things you did last night and you both are on an even score of shame. There is only one last thing to do to finally banish the hangover, drift off into a gentle, relaxing snooze. Ahh, the mothers womb could not have been this comfortable.

Punks I'd like to...

I am sooo hungover today that the only thing I am fit for is lying on my bed, randomly pinballing around the internet and massaging the area on my forehead where most of the pain seems to be coming from.

However, this can be good because I came across this shit. http://fuckyeahpilfs.tumblr.com/. Punks Id Like to Fuck is the brainchild of two girls called Michele and Katrina. Basically its hot, dirty punks and punk-like humans, it's somethig to do with owning your own sexuality/arousal and thus not being 'a living fuckdoll'...or something.
 The guy on the left. I like it all.

I took a look aorund and yea, some people on there are kinda hot. I dont know, when I look at some pictures of people I'd want to fuck, I want to actually want to fuck them..not like this where I'm like "omg he'd be a hottie without the blood stained teeth" or "cute face, definatly looks like there would be a smell of mushroom around him though".  I guess I'm totally missing the point, and I just must not be attracted to punks.

Theres something reassuring about saying I'm not attracted to punks. Its like "Don't worry Mum"

The girls who run this are pretty harcore feminist, their rights to their vaginas and their right to their arousal is a big deal. I get it. I respect that. My only problem is when people get a bit earnest about it. I have some friends who are really earnest about their passions, I do get it, honestly, I have passions. But if someone calls someone a retard in front of me I don't start to cry or dispense lectures "Don't say retard! They are children with special educational needs and actually everyone has special educational needs if you think about it...." five hours later the lecture is over and so is the craic.

But yea, respect for putting up some pictures of some hot 'alternative' guys. Its like hot Gingers or hot Aisans
Look at these two, this shit is hot. I think I like it because theres two of them.

A problem I have with punks is that I don't love men that spend too much time on their 'look'. I like a guy who gets his sister to cut his hair, who ony gets new clothes on Christmas and his birthday and if he has dry skin he uses something ridiculous like vaseline.
 Like these two.

I'm not saying that the two punks use Nivea for Men and go to the Punk Outfitters every payday, but they do go to a tatoo parlour or a piercing shop with a clear idea in their head 'Oh I know something that will look really good/cool'. They do look in the mirror and think 'How can I look more punk-like today?'. I just don't love that shit.
Now, if someone made a blog called Men with Good Arms, Stubble, Glasses, Chunky Body, Little or No Fashion Sense, i'd be all over that shit. I'd be subsrcibing, buying the t-shirt and the book, e-mailing the creator, posting comments and putting a feed from here to there. Ahhh, someone needs to make that blog.

16 May 2010

Stuff I've bought recently

I bought this bump-it in a Pound Stretcher at home, well I say I bought it but my Mum, Big Una actually bought it and I gave her a fiver. Oh the shame of not being able to afford a good-hair-device that costs £9.99
I tried to use it last night, but as usual with all my fake hair implements, I realised I would just take it out after one pint so I put it away and told myself 'I'll wear it the next time' (I have a fake fringe I have still not worn because I'll wear it the next time).

Some nice nail-varnishes. Orange is my third favourite colour after gold and coral so Im excited about that. The pink Star Gazer stuff is unreal. Nums.
The Star Gazer stuff is my homage to Snookie. I wore it last night, fingers and toes and felt Jersalicious. I always feel Jersalicious though.

Ok, so I didn't techincally buy this, I found it downstairs and I've decided Im going to keep it.
I've never read any Sparks books, they sound like a pile o' shite but I'm in the mood right now for a weepie. It better get my juices flowing. I watched the Notebook for the first time at Easter with my sisters. They're a hot couple, it's a pity they get old. Actually, thats an idea for a post - the collected works of Nicholas Sparks. Hmm...I'll get on that.

This is the last thing I bought, well, the remains of it. Abrakebabra's quesadilla! My flattie and I went to Abras after 'the club' (in Lil Wayne voice) last night. It was immense but it tasted even better this morning, washed down with a cold milk. Huzzah for fast food!
I've just realised I'm a total minger. Ah well. I have pictures of me and my sister in Croatia last summer eating burritos and drinking wine in bed. FTW!

Theres nothing like a good coloured bra to keep you in cheerful mood. So I bought two coral bras from Pennys, noice! Well, Big Una bought me one of them.
I have had about 8 coral bras over the years but I really like a flash of coral at a shoulder.  Yes, this does look gigantic. Maybe I will make an umbrella out of a cup.

The stuff I've bought recently looks a bit frivolous, to be honest. I should have bought a dictionary or graph paper.

12 May 2010

I just birthed a blog! It wasn't that hard...

Ive been thinking about starting a blog for a long time but never got round to it. Now seems like a good time as I am approaching the end of my Masters (which has taken the last three years) and I am also moving home (100 miles) after seven years as an independent woman *sobz*.

I am thinking that since I'll be home acting like a feotus (living with my parents, eating their food, arguing with my siblings) I will need an outlet. Maybe a blog will be that outlet. Or maybe I'll need to coerce my Doctor into prescribing me some damn xanax.

Before I hit the button labelled 'create a blog' I could alwaysthink of five things, off the cuff, that I could blog about, but since I hit that button, it feels like I've retracted into my chrysalis and now I'm too shy to think about anything *girlish giggles*.

Ok lemme go think up some stuff and find out how to move pictures from one internet place to another and then I'll be back.