February 18, 2009
Poppycock!
Riddle me this… If they never looked how do they know what poo even looks like? Could look like flowers or Christian Bale’s chiseled face for all they know!
He might be... how do you know if you've NEVER LOOKED!?
There is far too much poo in my blog, need a verbal laxative.
February 15, 2009
Geez Louise, there are apparently a lot of people who type this into the wordpress search.
Few observations, really….
1) What the fuck??? Go to a doctor or better yet google a halitosis website, why would you search wordpress for “my breath smells like poo”. Hmm unless you have a fetish, you dirty bugger, you!
2) I am sorry that all you find is a post on how my housemate had rat-bum breath
3) Do not despair, note the past tense I used for her rat-bum breath!
4) I do not know why her breath has ceased to smell like shit. I think perhaps she changed the brand of tea she drinks. I noticed in her cupboard yesterday (hey, we share!) that she had Yorkshire Tea bags, perhaps this is the change?
5) If your breath smells really bad then just hook up with someone elses breath that smells really bad – this isnt really logical, because both of you will be thinking “jebus, I really dont want to kiss this rat-bum-mouth but hey, at least you wont be able to throw stones at each other from your opposing glass houses!
September 16, 2008
losers at a dickhead meeting except for that baldy cunt next to me, he's alright
I’ve always wanted to have a job where I went to meetings. Meetings where there was a plate of cakes and things on the table. I’d sit there in a high powered suit whilst chewing on my pen and saying “I must disagree, this strategy is highly detrimental to our investors”… or something. Do you go to meetings? I’d have a monocle and a walking cane to make me seem extra demure.
Tuesday is already over for me, woo. It’s bloody freezing and I’m sitting here in a blanket about to watch The Mighty Booo-oosh (yay). I have no idea how to work the heating correctly but again I blame the student mantra of “if it aint broke dont fix it” and in particular “if it aint working, dont bother doin nuffin either”.
March 27, 2008
What can I do?
Housemate A drinks loads of tea and dear jebus of nazabeth, it stinks to high heaven – her breath, not the tea. I don’t understand this biological phemonenon seeing as my parents drink tea all the time and they dont have stinky breath and usually her breath does not stink. The first time I caught a whiff we were watching TV in the Box (very small tv room) and I was like, wooooooah what is in your mouth, a rat bum? Course I didn’t say this, I just thought it and I cunningly moved forward and away from her so I could eat my dinner without feeling sick.
It smells like maybe animal bum and tea, like if there was this bum that had tea-diarrhea. We cleaned out the fridge today because Housemate C tends to leave things in the fridge till they go out of date and we have to fish for them. The fridge was mcstinksville and as I found the smelly thing – hiding right at the back, I turned to Housemate A and went, “I got it!”. She was excited and said, “Yay!” and then I thought I might keel over from the synergistic effects of the smell of the rotting meat loin and my housemate’s tea breath.
I have decided to take mints with me wherever I go in the house incase she is around in a post-tea state. It really is stinky! I wonder how her boyfriend deals with it, though he sees her very seldomly, so maybe this is the reason! I don’t think I should tell her. Once, I went to the cinema with Euphagania Buttkiss (not her real name actually!) and she had the worst off-yoghurt breath I ever smelt. It smelt like… off yoghurt. I didnt have the heart to say anything and she kept whispering in my ear about the movie and I was like “mmm yes, yes I agree” whilst I leant on one of my fists which was cunningly covering my nostrils.
The moral of this story is as follows, it is good that everyone with bad breath knows they have bad breath. To everyone who doesnt have bad breath please check that you don’t have bad breath! Smell it yourself by doing that lower jaw movement, you know the one I mean, jutt it out and smell your breath. Especially after drinking tea! *shakes fist menacingly at you*
March 11, 2008
Now I’m no veteran lesbian-seer but I think, since coming to London, I have seen a fair few. I don’t understand why one lesbian in the couple tends to look like a man. They will have short hair, maybe just one ear pierced and be wearing an england rugby shirt TUCKED IN to loose, baggy jeans and maybe a good, sturdy pair of doc martins also known as “comfortable shoes”. I would understand if the lesbian was waiting for a sex change and wanted to be a guy, but this is not often the case. As for the other lesbian, who can be more feminine or just as butch – if you fancy women why do you go out with women who look like men? Unless you are waiting for a sex change to become a gay man and then what happens to your partner who is supposed to like women? I hear those folk who get all het up and say, “love isn’t about gender!” so I assume lesbians who dress like men just lack femininity and it’s not that they want to be men, they just cant help being ugly frumps.
Back to the originial intent of this post. I met the oldest lesbians ever. I thought they might be sisters at first, or rather I hoped. One of them looked like an aged Miss. Trunchbull (from Matilda) she must have been about 80. She had her hair screwed up as a bun sitting on top of her grey old head. She had a fair few boils on her face and a healthy grey moustache. It wasn’t volumous (the tache) it grew like it does on old ladies, wild and erratic. What was strange and a bit funny was that she was wearing those Adidas poppers – the trousers that were fashionable in the middle 90s. She had a hoody on also. Her partner was a bit older, maybe 85. She was very slim and frail, she looked like your token disney granny. She had a red sweater on and black suit trousers and her hair kept short and almost white. She had a tiny voice and she kept reminding her gf, Trunchbull to say things. Trunchbull would look at her and snap, “I know, shut up!”. It was terribly odd and I really wanted to laugh or puke. It’s just that Trunchbull had cancer of the vagine and her partner had bowel cancer the year before. I couldnt help wondering if these lesbian lovers were still sexually active and if they both kinda liked that Trunchbull had grown a moustache and if her partner had discovered irregular lumps within Trunchball during sexual fumblings *passes you the sick bucket*. Anyway, the whole thing made me feel pretty queasy. Old people don’t have sex, especially not elderly lesbians with moustaches and colostomy bags. I want to take it out of my brain! Erase it from my mind, Will Smith from Men in Black! Erase it from my mind!
March 10, 2008
I actually find it quite refreshing to meet confident people who say things like, “Oh yeah I’m really great at [something]“… but only if it’s true. What annoys me are people who self proclaim they are something they are definitely not. Lately that something seems to be Chandler from friends. A guy from home absolutely loves the show. I ask the obligatory, “who’s your favourite character?” and he replies Chandler and adds, “he is just so on the ball u know, my humer is just like that.” Yeah, that’s how he spelt humour (it was on msn). This guy is always calling me a snob and this gets to me to the point I have to write this. He who digs his own incompetence grave by telling me he is intelligent but uses the word “cleaver”. He is nothing like Chandler from friends, he actually goes as far to say, “you think too fast” or “stop pikin on my spelin swot”. He’s about as quick witted as a lobotomised tortoise.
The second person who is “just like Chandler from friends” is the boyfriend of a delusional friend of mine. She’s not really a friend anymore as I have just discovered it’s not just me who dislikes her but everyone so I dont have to pretend anymore! She is going out with the biggest boring plank of wood north of the river. He sits there like a lump of poo with limbs occassionally speaking in a monotone drone. She was gushing to us how much she loves him and how much she loves having sex with him (TMI! she is 4′11 and he is 6′3 and perhaps the word is “swarthy”) and then she added, “oh he’s so funny, just like Chandler from friends!” to which I choked on my drink and another whispered to me, “What, when Chandler was going through his fat stage?”.
