Honey, I'm home

I have found new love in the form of Florence + The Machine.

My sister recently bought their album from iTunes, so weirdly, she decided to burn me a copy. Which was odd, because I can't see how that benefitted her in any way.

Anyway, the album is completely flawless, and while I always thought I would never be into that sort of thing and kind of dismissed them as mainstream and overrated, when in actual fact they are the complete opposite of what I expected. Which makes them bloody brilliant.

J and Me have been meaning to blog on the events of last weekend, which was a bunch of larks to say the least. But I'm not sure I remember exactly what happened. I have loads of 'episodes' in my head, but I'm not sure what order they go in, or what they mean. Maybe I will write a list (SMBx will be so proud):

1. Laughing at a big clock. That's CLOCK J okay? Clock. With an 'L'.

2. Attempting to watch 28 Days Later but knowing that I was instantly forgetting everything. It was a very surreal experience. I remember a monkey. And a naked man.

3. A snake.

4. Lying in the middle of the road looking at the stars. I like that part. But I'm worried that I may have been in my pajamas. Which is bordering ridiculous.

5. Eating a biscuit and being like 'am I eating this biscuit? Or is the universe making me think I am?...Or something...'

6. Laughing at J's expression when she tried tequila and some random fruit juice. Like, orange and guava and passion fruit or something skank.

7. laughing at this chair that kept spinning around of its own accord every time I sat in it.

8. Laughing. ALOT.

9. Near the end of the night, the host taking me aside (he was sober) and saying 'listen to me, J has been in the bathroom for God knows how long, B is outside on his hands and knees if people are going to throw up on me, I can't handle it, you have to stay awake with me. I'll freak out.' And I was all 'Oh for fuck's sake you pussy'.

And I've to end that list on a 9. Because I like to piss off foreigners (yes, I mean you, you Danish outcast).

In other news, tomorrow J is taking me to the Lake District. Which means I wont be blogging for a long time. I might post another one later, because I luff you all so much (especially my leedle weasel SBHx and my biatch L).

Peace out, whores x.

'Duff-Carten Away!'

I do believe that yesterday I may have broken my record for outbursts of hysterical girlish giggling in one afternoon.

Seeing as yesterday was Wednesday, lucky pal J only had to come in for social studies, which mainly consisted of us trying to snaffle Oreos without the Portly One catching us out and attacking us with his wig. luckily we were permitted freedom about half an hour early, so me and J hopped onto our bicycle-made-for-one-but-seating-two, and rode majestically towards the horizon. Or, more accurately: J insisted on overtaking some old ladies before I mounted the bike incase we accidentally crashed into them and impaled them on the barbed wire fence, and I jogged with an air of dignity and grace next to her.

I finally managed to cling onto the back while J did executed some marvelous pedaling, and we sped off with a majestic cry of, 'Duff-Carten AWAY!'

Needless to say, this was probably the start of project 'mad-us hysterical-us', and we wobbled our way to the rec.

Seeing as it is the middle of July, the weather was crap and it started spitting as we neared the river. Me and J are defiantly one of those 'Seize the Day' go-getters, and yesterday's seizing came in the form of rolling up our jeans, pulling off our shoes and socks, and doing some hard-core paddling. The first attempt lasted roughly a minute, with project 'mad-us hysterical-us' well under way. We came squealing out of the river, and immediately J spotted what appeared to be a fish squiggling away in the grass.

I pounced.

It wasn't a fish, it was about a million times better. It was a frog. I immediately christened him Alex James, as frogs are well known for their bass playing skills and mad grinning. Poor Alex James was a little confused and rather startled, so we set him down on a little weeny island and he hopped off to join his mates.

Me and J celebrated his freedom and lease on life my singing 'Coffee and TV' by blur whilst doing the Milky dance in the pouring rain. At this point we were beyond thirsty and J seemed to have her mind set on drinking the tequila I had in my bag ('You'll be less thirsty and you'll feel better about yourself!') I thought it would be rude to drink tequila near Alex James as we might have spilled some and poisoned him and his gang (Damon the goldfish, Graham the otter and Dave the water-snail) . So instead we shuffled off home.

But not before J decided that the perfect ending to the day would be to run over an ants nest.

She is relentless.

Crank It Up

Stepmother was being a bitch again.

So I spat in her face wash.

That is all.

Connexions

I forgot to mention my amazing connections.

If you haven't heard about this, it's probably because you haven't talked to me in the past one and a bit weeks. My amazing connections are of course to Damon Albarn. I mean, who else you loons. Like I would BOTHER having connections with anyone less cool.

The first is that my stepmum is an estate agent, and she recently got a new boss (I forget his name) who helped Damon Albarn find a new flat.

I know right. We are practically related.

The second is that my old English teacher/adopted Rolling Study Tutor sat next to him on a plane. I think I recall at the moment she told us, J said, 'did you touch him?'

At this point my maturity levels sky rocketed.

Bein A Teenager

So, my laptop has officially committed suicide. Which is my excuse for not posting anything since the blur concert. And I've just noticed I really hate typing on this computer.

I've just finished reading dear friend J's blog, and I must say I heartily agree with her on the subject of holidays. We all desperately need one. This morning was the fifth consecutive morning that I've been woken by my alarm at 6:30 am, only to hurl it across my bedroom and fall back to sleep for another blissful thirty minutes. It's all to waste really, as it leaves me about fifteen minutes to stagger about the house trying to remember where I put the bloody umbrella. Because of course, this is England darling, and we need rain to make tea, and to grow our daffodils.

My parents have taken to suffocating me recently. They seem to think that me lying and skipping the odd rolling study or maybe having a smoke in the kiddies park is abnormal behavior. To be perfectly honest, I only lie to them to protect them. if they knew what larks I actually got up to they may disown me. Which in itself could be a blessing in disguise, on the other foot, I only have ten quid in my bank, so being kicked out isn't ideal.

And they completely overreacted to me not going to RSP. My stepmother got so wound up I had to slip her a sedative in the form of my fist.

No, don't be ridiculous.

I have no idea what I'm going to tell them about this weekend. The plan is that me, J and L all swan off to a friends house, who happens to have his house free of parents. The fact that the friend is male is not a good start.

Last time I lied about my whereabouts, my Dad caught me straight away. I don't like lying to him, I actually like my Dad, he's an alright bloke. I just wish he'd give me a bit of leash sometimes.

Fish Fingers Anyone?

Does anyone else find that programme on channel 4 where they dissect massive animals slightly wrong?
I mean I know the animals died of natural causes or were put down because they were ill, so technically there is nothing wrong with it.
But something about it seems really twisted.

Right now I'm watching them cut open a whale on a beach. Guts and fluids are pouring over the sand. This woman is hacking away at its voice box, and sliding down the side of the huge animal, which is slippery with blood. She's laughing. They're using a digger to scrape away the flesh and muscle. Children are watching whilst eating ice creams and hot dogs.

I mean, I'm all for biological developments. but maybe a little respect for the dead is in order.
Plus, they don't seem to be discovereing anything new about the animals, so I don't really see the point, especially seeing as they've pulled the whale apart so much so it is barely recognisable as one anymore. It just seems to me that they could be doing something more productive.

Like, I dunno, saving whales rather than attacking the carcasses with a bread knife.

Hello Moon

Last Friday was an experience of many emotions: fear, apprehension, excitement, disgust, happiness, confusion, anger... but most of all, a feeling of sheer ecstacy.

No I'm not a druggy or a sex addict. I'm talking about Hyde Park, London, dead grass, bottles of beer flying around like insects, sun, speakers, guitars, drums. I'm talking about the blur concert.

We arrived in London at about 1:30, after setting off at around 12, so we had make excellent time. However it took us another half an hour to find the correct entrance to Hyde Park. Which is actually fucking huge. More like a battlefield for joggers and picnic baskets than a park. So thanks for putting the gate name on the tickets, blur. What a fun adventure that was. We finally figured out it was the Marble Arch entrance, and after about 67 years of my Dad giving us advice and instructions, (mostly along the lines of 'don't get crushed in the crowds okay?' to which we replied 'oh haw haw, please this is a blur concert. The fans will be intelligent individuals', oh I was so naive) We finally joined the surprisingly small queue for the entrance.

We made it amazingly close to the stage, but it was a frustrating 4-5 hours before blur finally came on. During this time we watched 4 supporting acts:

1. Wierd, tiny Chinese girl mostly singing gibberish whilst pretending to play a bass guitar (I'm not being racist, it was literally gibberish e.g. 'bom ba bom ba bom ba bom BAM BAM' I rest my case.
2. Florence And The Machine, bloody brilliant performance, Florence has an amazing voice and some serious charisma (also she waved at me. We are now BFF's)
3. African band who were pretty cool, but also said things in a language that no one understood. We still cheered though.
4. Vampire Weekend, Good performance, but I think people were getting a bit restless by this point.

The next few minutes the crowd seemed electric. Once all the band equipment was sorted, the stage was empty of movement. Every time the speakers stopped playing some 80's songs, the crowd started cheering, only to be let down by another song. Finally the music stopped, the cheering was frantic, smoke spilled from the wings of the stage, and through it came blur.

I promised myself I would celebrate my excitement upon their presence with dignity. But as soon as I saw them, strolling through the smoke in a kind of Charlie's Angels 'It-is-I' kind of way, all dignity was forgotten. This was my Twilight. I didn't cheer in a standard 'Woo', I fully on screamed my lungs out, jumping about like a loony on loon pills and waving my arms as if they'd caught fire. I literally could not believe it, I was flooded with joy, I almost cried.

No doubt the performance was unbelieveable. Nothing could have been improved. However, seeing as we were astonishingly close to the stage, it was slightly mental to say the least. Beer bottles kept flying past me or exploding on people's heads, and not necessarily filled with beer. The heat was intense, and we were contantly surrounded my sweaty blokes about twice my height and weight meaning I was pushed and shoved in all directions. My feet suffered intensely, they were trampled upon mercilessly and i now have the cuts and bruises to prove it. At one point it got so violent Damon Albarn had to tell the nutters at the front to 'enjoy themsleves a bit less', the responce to this was much booing, at which point my friend J turned to me with a look of pure horror on her face and said:

'You can't boo Damon!'

But it was so worth every pain-filled second of it.

My favourite song had to be Tender. Mostly because of the atmosphere, the entire crowd sang the lyrics. Alex James was grinning like a moron throught the entire night, Damon did 'The Jog' and I'm positive that without a doubt, we will all be voting for Dave.