"Today, my boyfriend snuck into my house and hid in my closet. Knowing that I have a phobia of people jumping out of closets, he nonetheless thought it would be funny to see how I'd react. I had a panic attack and was taken to the hospital. Thanks babe. FML"
"Today, I was fired. My boss told me via email that it was because I "don't have enough experience with fun spiritual." Uh, what? FML"
"Today, while on MSN, I received a touchy-feely message from an unknown sender. Thinking it was my friends playing a prank on me, I replied, "WHO DA F*CK IS THIS?!" Let's just say I won't be looking my grandmother in the eye again for a while. FML"
"Today, my boyfriend proposed to me. Everything was going perfectly, right up until he brought me back to his house to tell his family the good news. When I excused myself to the restroom, I overheard his mom say, "I thought you were going to break up with that stupid slut?" Welcome to the family. FML"
"Today, my therapist told me to write down my secrets in an envelope and symbolically burn them. My secrets included stories of my rampant sex life, drugs, a suicide attempt, and the hatred I have for my family. I've managed to misplace the envelope somewhere back home. FML"
"Today, I spent an hour deleting 70 of my status posts from the past week so I don't look so addicted to Facebook. Damn, I need a life. FML"
"Today, I threw up in the car. While driving. The good news though, I had a bag to catch it all. Bad news? The bag had a giant hole in the bottom. FML"
"Today, after some passionate love making with my husband, I accidentally farted on his leg. He shrieked and frantically began shaking his leg while screaming, "Get it off! Get it off!" FML"
"Today, I had to fake fall down the stairs so my mom would stop texting and actually pay attention to what I was saying. FML"
"Today, I was babysitting a little girl. We were colouring, and she told me she wanted to draw a picture of me.After she was done, she showed me the picture. I'm drawn as a fat cow. The worst part is, the picture actually looks kinda like me. FML"
"Today, my boyfriend walked in on me in the bathroom. That's how he found out that I wax my nipples. FML"
"Today, I went to the doctor thinking I had breast cancer. Turns out, I have a third boob. FML"
"Today, my cat tried to kill me. While I was sleeping, he put his paws on either side of my face and laid down, covering my nose and mouth. While I was struggling to free myself, I could hear my sister laughing next to me.FML"
Thursday, 24 February 2011
Tate Britain
There are two types of people who visit the Tate Britain. The first type is a couple, late on in life, visiting London for the weekend to get away from the strain of life in their Hampshire manor. They have left their acres of land, their horses and have visited the Tate to look at paintings of acres of land and horses. They are a man and woman, the man has white hair, is a retired city worker, wears a knee length black coat over a suit, a uniform perhaps, with the exception of some fun in the tie department. The woman has teeth too large for her mouth, pearls and glasses that are at angle. She has probably lost any sense of smell from the strength of her perfume, and her blood red nails could take a wandering tourist out with a flash.
The second kind of person is most likely on 'vacation' from the States. They would be carrying a rucksack with millions of unnecessary pockets, and they would have a Nikon strapped around their neck. Their voices would carry for miles as they paw at a post box or black cab, or when they wonder at how the tube works.
After a morning of shuffling along in the gallery, they would end up at the gift shop.
The common gift shop, for those who have never visited a region with more than 100 people in it, is an infinite supply of tat. For the case of the Tate Britain, it is flooded with postcards and branded pencils.
The first couple would enjoy throwing money at the cashiers for something unnecessary and that would end up in a small dark corner of their mansion; perhaps a psychedelic Bridget Riley poster or a minimalist coffee table.
The second couple would appreciate the postcards or guides to London. In fact they would buy anything as long as it has 'Tate Britain' stamped on it in big red letters.
Next stop is lunch. This is odd in the Tate Britain because after a walk down a corridor, you have to chose which room you belong to; the cafe or the restaurant. The cafe is for the pauper, it is the last resort for the first couple, no they would despise sitting among the scum of London, the tramps and beggars where the only option is a disgraceful cheese sandwich glugged down with tap, yes that is right, TAP water. The restaurant, however, where you could chose between Lobster souffle or devilled kidneys is a place for the sane and well mannered.
Tate tate tate tate tate tate
The second kind of person is most likely on 'vacation' from the States. They would be carrying a rucksack with millions of unnecessary pockets, and they would have a Nikon strapped around their neck. Their voices would carry for miles as they paw at a post box or black cab, or when they wonder at how the tube works.
After a morning of shuffling along in the gallery, they would end up at the gift shop.
The common gift shop, for those who have never visited a region with more than 100 people in it, is an infinite supply of tat. For the case of the Tate Britain, it is flooded with postcards and branded pencils.
The first couple would enjoy throwing money at the cashiers for something unnecessary and that would end up in a small dark corner of their mansion; perhaps a psychedelic Bridget Riley poster or a minimalist coffee table.
The second couple would appreciate the postcards or guides to London. In fact they would buy anything as long as it has 'Tate Britain' stamped on it in big red letters.
Next stop is lunch. This is odd in the Tate Britain because after a walk down a corridor, you have to chose which room you belong to; the cafe or the restaurant. The cafe is for the pauper, it is the last resort for the first couple, no they would despise sitting among the scum of London, the tramps and beggars where the only option is a disgraceful cheese sandwich glugged down with tap, yes that is right, TAP water. The restaurant, however, where you could chose between Lobster souffle or devilled kidneys is a place for the sane and well mannered.
Tate tate tate tate tate tate
Saturday, 19 February 2011
Thursday, 17 February 2011
Appreciated
It would be quite obnoxious of me to send a message across the internet thanking those who give up their time to read my posts and look at my art, when I don't even know half of you. But I am chuffed, especially when I see my blog is travelling far and wide, to countries I have never stepped a foot in.
Ta, for those who give up their time, when the probably should be doing something else, (you're not alone, that is the reason why I began this!) and if I could give one piece of advice, I think that everyone should write a blog, even if it is to put the most pointless stuff on, because a blog is like a microphone, and it spreads your message far and wide.
I hope I have achieved my aim, which is to be memorable in my message and most of all to make everyone's days that bit better.
Over and out.
Ta, for those who give up their time, when the probably should be doing something else, (you're not alone, that is the reason why I began this!) and if I could give one piece of advice, I think that everyone should write a blog, even if it is to put the most pointless stuff on, because a blog is like a microphone, and it spreads your message far and wide.
I hope I have achieved my aim, which is to be memorable in my message and most of all to make everyone's days that bit better.
Over and out.
Tuesday, 15 February 2011
Sunday, 13 February 2011
Saturday, 5 February 2011
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