If I knew Henry VIII I doubt he would find me impressive
He would wonder why my hair was so short and all different colours
He would enquire as to why I am 25 years old and unmarried
He would assume that I am barren as I have no children
The piercings? “Why that ring through your nose is an adornment for cattle young lady”
At dinner, when I refuse to eat all the animals in the uk and send back the dairy he will undoubtedly accuse me of being an ungrateful little madam with no appreciation for the feast he had prepared
The post dinner entertainment would be more akin to a presidential debate or a fist fight. No doubt, I would argue my opinion ferociously and his majesty would have a heart attack at my shocking insolence and sheer cheek.
Yes. I think he’d rather like having me around ;P
(seems the times havent quite changed as much as we like to think)
It’s been a while since I did a thoughts and ramblings entry so here it is. You will have noticed the subject is “down with love”, there you have it; I’m terrible at it. I fall for the wrong people and I think I’ll just give up on it.
Today, a chap decided to point out how my opinions are always wrong and how I have social issues. He seemed to think that my inquisitive nature was reserved solely for him and that I was trying to make him look unintelligent with my “psychobabble”.
I decided to lay low for a while so as to avoid any more conflict with this opinionated little darling. However, so as no to worry my friends I notified them that I had not left the social media app I was using. Anyone who had an opinion on the situation formed the consensus that aforementioned chap is a paranoid egomaniacal bastard (well I’m not going to say either way) and understood why I’m avoiding him.
Then I remembered that I hadn’t told Mister Gitchops. If you have followed my blog from the beginning you will know that for about a year now I have been unable to break ties with Gitchops even though he clearly doesn’t give a hoot about me. So, I sent him a message informing him of the situation and I’m guessing he will pick it up on Monday. Except now my hormonal bitch demon side has taken over and I’m now sitting at my desk typing by candlelight contemplating wether or not to revise my message and add “not that you give a flying f%*k Anyways”.
I know, dear reader that this would cause a shitstorm but I’m tempted to challenge our “friendship” to breaking point and utterly stab myself in the chest by watching it crash and burn at my hands.
The mixed signals are really starting to tire me and I seem to be terrible at communicating with men recently. So, here is my question to you dear reader:
Down with love?
It’s been a while since I last wrote and I apologise for the cut off story. As most long suffering people have experienced with your own families; Boxing Day at the Bee hive is full of family. It’s the day we all pile into the car and make our way over to my Grandmother’s house for food, drink, board games and that good ole familiar onslaught of probing questions from my aunt. Some of you may know the questions already “are you still single” “are you making much money” “how much money are you on a year now” “why haven’t you had any kids yet”; blah blah.
This year, however, was a little different. As I settled down on the sofa in the corner of the lounge, I took out my iPad and began to type my latest piece for you all. I found the hussle and bustle of my family’s festivities a little distracting but plowed on until I got into a good rhythm.
Suddenly, my cousin decided to become rather narky with her latest arm candy. I won’t bore anyone with the details but it wasn’t his fault!
Well, dear readers; it is quite difficult to write a love scene in the midst of a lovers quarrel. So I decided enough was enough and I did what any sane person over the age of 15 knows NOT TO DO. I interjected with my own opinion on the situation. Oops.
As I am a non violent individual I’m afraid I tend to just coldly present the evidence and remain calm and businesslike in such situations. This did not go down well with my cousin and although she did finally desist with her torrent of “smart arse” comments; she continued to sulk and give me stink eye for an hour after.
So. That’s what happened folks. It put me right off my flow and also made me public enemy number 1 with my cousin (but not her boyfriend heehee). I will try to get some more shorts posted for you all. Hope you had a fabulous new year!
Thanks so much for passing on the family nose to me. At least if we break a coat hook I can just stand at the door with a “hang here” sign. Oh and please tell mum that saying I have “a Streisand nose” isn’t helping!
The two eyes that get upstaged by it
Evening dear reader. I was going to share a little poetry with you tonight but I found myself a little distracted.
Firstly; I couldn’t think of anything to write as I was preoccupied with the realisation that I was, in fact lying in bed hugging a soft “Cookie Monster” toy. Such is the life of a singleton.
(Aforementioned “Cookie Monster”)
Anyway, I digress. As I began to type a long winded rant about a man, I noticed it. A tiny gnat walking across my phone screen. I flicked then cocky little git away and that’s when I heard it. A loud buzzing in my left ear. As I raised my hand to investigate I felt something fluttering around in it. The buzzing sound now clear as day. I started frantically poking inside my ear trying to kill the fly. I had visions of it flying in there so far that I could see it behind my eye!!! 😱😱😱
Suddenly, the buzzing stopped. Phew! Now to retrieve the gnat corpse from my ear. Oh no! Where is it!!!! I have spent the last 30mins searching the bed and my ear for it; with no luck. I just hope it isn’t still somewhere in my left lug hole!
So, after being ear raped by a gnat, I think I’ve had enough excitement for one night. No poem tonight. I will try again tomorrow!