Boring life = boring blog.

So, hey, you know how I haven’t blogged in ages? Well, there are several reasons for that. Firstly, it’s because I haven’t found the motivation to do so. Seriously, motivation is hard to come by when you do nothing all day! Secondly, well, I do nothing with my life so nothing actually happens. And thirdly, I’ve started vlogging. (Please subscribe to my YouTube channel: http://YouTube.com/user/Dykadellic/) I started because my LBF (lesbian best friend) told me that I should audition for the Baby Beaver Bunch on YouTube, so, I did. Then I made another video, and I’ll probably carry it on. I’ll probably still blog, but it’ll be very occasionally. Or I’ll just do short updates, ‘cause I’m cool like that, and writing this has made me realise how much I actually enjoy typing about myself. If vanity’s a sin, baby, I’m Satan.

                Anyway, I’ll post a link to my video below, but for now, you’re being forced to read about my boring life. It’s boring. That’s basically it. Apart from the LBF came back from uni over the weekend and we went out clubbing and I got so drunk I fell onto the floor, lost her and David and stole a coat. Oops. She’s also dropping out of uni because it’s shit, which means, I get to spend more time with her! I’m definitely super excited for that. Also, my dear Louisa and Dermot are coming down this weekend and the weekend after and we’re going out, and that’s going to be amazing.

                I still don’t have a job. I’ve kinda given up looking. But I am having a meeting with some LGBT woman on Friday, so fingers crossed, eh?

Video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9WNSWycM554 

I was gonna put the actual video on here, but I legitimately have no fucking idea how to do this. 

London, Louisa and lots of alcohol

Louisa is one of my best friends; unfortunately, she decided it’d be a good idea to go to university. Yeah, okay, she’ll get an education, but she’s SO much further away now! So, Keya and I decided that it’d be a really good idea to go to London and visit her. And it was.

                We left on Friday, after we’d both finished work, got some beers and got on the train. We sat down at a table, only for some really posh, pompous, stuck up woman and her husband to join us. She actually ended up being alright and joined in on our game on 20 Questions  (probably not voluntarily though, more because Keya was essentially forcing her to join in).  

                After 2 hours and 40 minutes, we finally arrived in London Waterloo, and navigated our way round to the correct station to get on yet another train that’d take us to the station where Louisa and her new best friend, Dermite, would be meeting us.

                This would be the first time that Keya and I would be meeting Dermite. He’s Irish and likes Regina Spektor almost as much as I do (okay, not almost, but he likes her a lot), which instantly made me like him. This illusion was not spoiled when I actually met him.

                Regardless, we got to the station, and as soon as Louisa saw us, she screamed and ran towards us. Keya jumped on Louisa and they ended up on the floor, one on top of the other, almost hysterically crying, and Dermite (or Malarky O’Leary, as I so kindly renamed him) and I greeted each other like adults. We were all super excited for seeing each other.

                We got on a bus and went to Louisa’s flat. On the way, we bumped into a few of her friends, who would then end up joining us for pre-drinks in Louisa’s room. We got into her room, dumped our stuff and carried on drinking and getting ready for going to the student bar. Keya, promptly threatened Louisa’s flatmate for “making her cry”, and after that, we set off to go.

                We got in, got our drinks and went outside for a cigarette. Dermite, got almost immediately pounced at by some young ragamuffin, who looked like a junkie slut, and she was all ‘in his face’ about this douchebag Josh. What was the exact problem, I’m not really sure, because I spent most of the time turning his friends against him rather than listening to what they were saying. I do, however, remember a girl asking Dermite if he was okay, and whether or not he liked her dress. He said it was lovely, and when she went he muttered “she’s a tramp” to me. We promptly renamed her ‘Trampy Jade’ and avoided her like the plague.

                We got MORE drinks in, and were already pretty drunk. Bad Romance came on, so Keya and I danced, but it was on for literally about 30 seconds! We were OUTRAGED! I wanted to get my GaGa on! My thoughts of disappointment were soon dissolved by stroking this girls coat because it, in my drunken state, ‘felt like a bear’.

                We ended up back outside, and, as Keya and Dermite were kissing each other, I decided to talk to some guys that were stood by. I asked what they were doing at uni, and they said they were doing engineering. They then asked what I was doing, and, instead of telling the truth, I said that I was doing “a degree in Psychology” and made up some bullshit reason as to why I was doing it.

                Trampy Jade and I kissed, Trampy  Jade, Keya and Dermite had a three-way kiss and we all left substantially drunk. Louisa, at this point, was back in her flat after canoodling with Colin.

                We went to sleep, but then a short while later I awoke to the most horrible, repetitive shrieking noise! I attempted to block it out with my pillow over my head, but the fire alarm was far too loud to even attempt to be ignored. We wandered outside like zombies along with the rest of the people from the nearby flats. Louisa, with her duvet, curled up into a ball on the floor. Keya joined her. In MY sleeping bag! Now, if the fact that he was rubbing my sleeping bag against the ground, he was also completely NAKED. Gross, right? We trundled back to sleep after the alarm of death finally was silenced.

                In the morning, after we were all ready, we decided to go into central London. After a delightful breakfast at McDonald’s we went to somewhere in London, where there was a ‘Big African Weekender’. As we were glancing around, we noticed lots of posters and people gathered round looking at some sort of protest. John Lennon’s ‘Imagine’ was playing, and Keya and I put our arms around each other and sang. We realised that it was about the injustice of the Iranian governments views on homosexuality, and how people get hanged, stoned to death and ostracised, simply for being something they cannot control. Whilst looking at signs saying “her only crime was love” next to pictures of people being publically executed, I felt myself get to the point where it took a lot for me to draw back my tears. I’ve never been so moved by anything so quickly in my life.

                We carried on traipsing round London, went through Chinatown,  were there were lots of delightful whole cooked ducks hanging in the windows, then made our way to Soho. On our attempt to find G.A.Y, we passed a ‘Peep Show’ for £2. We were all plucking up the courage to go in, but then the woman in the next place wanted us in her whorehouse to see a live show, have drinks and stuff for ‘only’ £20. In all fairness, she said entrance alone was usually £50, but we’re poor! Two students, an unemployed bum and Keya, who spends the majority of his money of alcohol! We said we’d “think about it” and went off to G.A.Y. There was an immediate transition between London, and the gay part of London. There were SO many bears outside all the cafés, drinking coffee and Louisa and I definitely saw Brüno.

                We went to G.A.Y, had a drink and then went back to Louisa’s, after stopping off to get more alcohol and some food. Apparently, I’m not as young as I used to be because I couldn’t even get through half a can of beer that evening as I was still hungover, sleep deprived and feeling sick. Keya and I, unfortunately, had to leave, and it sucked. We then went to get our train, and for some stupid reason, I got a coffee to drink on the train and didn’t sleep at all, unlike Keya, who looked like a homeless guy with his chavvy hoodie on. I went home, showered and slept until I had work, then I slept lots after work.

                It was an amazing trip, and I miss Louisa so much. I’m really glad she’s made such an amazing friend (Dermite), and that she’s having such a good time. I just have no idea how she has the stamina to drink every night AND attend lectures!

Get a job, you bum!

Being unemployed sucks. Like, fo' realz. 
Even though I'm like, THE laziest person in the world, I'd rather have to get up everyday to go to work, than staying up until gone 4am watching shit TV and playing The Sims 3 on my iPod, and then waking up at some ridiculous hour of the afternoon and starting the process all over again. I'm pretty sure I've been wearing the same jogging bottoms for about 3 days solid. 
I feel like Peter Bretter from Forgetting Sarah Marshall right after they break up (yeah, I watched it yesterday). I'm doing *nothing* with my life. I have put out a few CVs and stuff but no call backs yet. Also, I don't want a job because my current job (which has changed to just weekends, hence the need for a job) is the best job in the world! I do absolutely nothing all day and drink as much coffee as I want. It's awesome. 
I can't even be bothered to type this out, so I'm doing it on my iPod. WIN. That would explain the potential random spellings. I'm also watching Family Guy and not concentrating at all. 
I suppose good things come out of unemployment... For example, I got bored earlier, made a catapult out of pencils, rubber bands and paper and used several coloured Sharpies to draw a giant eye on my knee and paint my nails, among other things. Wow, I'm lame. 
Anyway, if anyone's got a job going that they wanna give me, that'd be great! 

Oh, what's funny is I've only not been working for 3 days. God forbid the day I'm properly unemployed... 

Welcome to the depths of my soul.

Why must I feel like this? For the past week or so, I’ve been feeling like ass. Total crap. Literally, depressed. And I don’t know why.

I’ve been coming home from work, lying on the sofa, and staying there until the early hours of the morning watching CSI and Family Guy. Going to sleep, and doing it all again. My life serves no purpose, and I’m completely unmotivated. I’ve been ignoring my best friend, despite how he phones me everyday, and I feel so fucking bad about it, but I don’t want to talk to him, because I’m ashamed. He’s been texting me, trying to contact me, and I’ve literally been ignoring him. I mean, I appreciate his attempts, I really do, but I just feel ashamed and down. I don’t *want* to talk to anyone.

            When I’m lying on the sofa, watching shit TV, playing pointless games on my iPod, I feel so, so drained, pointless, still. I don’t want to move, I don’t want to eat, I don’t want to talk, I don’t even want to sleep, despite how tired I constantly am for work.

            I want to sleep, I want to cry, I want to release whatever is inside of me that’s making me feel like this! I want to feel better! I just can’t seem to… I go to work, and I’m fine, but as soon as I come home, I feel nothing. I feel empty.

            There are possible reasons for this. For example, Louisa, one of my best friends, is leaving to go to university in London soon. Another reason could be my best friend going away for like a week to Madrid. But the most probably reason is, the fact that I’m not going back into education, I don’t have a stable job under my belt, and I don’t have the skills required to go into the field I want to. I could get the skills, sure, but that requires motivation. Something I lack. Making me more depressed. Catch 22, right?

            My motivation is so low. I’m arriving to work about 5 minutes late everyday, I’ve been promising myself that I’d tidy my room for months, I need to go to the gym, but I can’t be arsed. I don’t want to get out of bed in the mornings, and I don’t want to go there at night.

            Hopefully, these feelings will go away soon. I really hope they do. Also, I’m sorry for being so damn emotional, but blogging is my release. God, I hate depression.
         I’m ashamed that it’s me feeling like this. I’m ashamed that I can’t control it. But mostly, I’m ashamed that it’s happening again. I want to be happy.

Neighborhood #3 (Power Out)

There’s been a powercut! What am I thinking right now? What the hell do I do?!

Literally, I was watching Family Guy, on Twitter, on Facebook, and then *BOOM* darkness. Everything cuts out and a car alarm goes off (which is still going, by the way…) and I’m left here, sat in total darkness, bar the glare from my iPod Touch. So, since I’m already on Facebook, I thought, why not update my status about the powercut. I try posting it, but it tells me I have no internet connection. Duh! There’s no electricity. After realising I have no internet, I’m wondering what to do. I go into the utility room and grab some candles, light them, and sit back in the lounge contemplating the activities I’ll be doing in the next couple of hours.

            I can’t play Guitar Hero because there’s no power. I can’t watch a DVD because my laptop will die halfway through. Most of the fun apps on my iPod Touch revolve around the internet. So, currently, I’m blogging about how my life needs modern technology for me to exist.

            Quite literally, the only things I can think to do is things that involve computerised equipment. Okay, I am thinking one other thing; are the streetlights still on? I presume they would be. But that’s something I can Google. The only thing I can think to do is sit here and blog, or go out for a cigarette. I’ll do the latter after I’ve finished this.

            This is the worst blog ever, mainly because I haven’t blogged in fo’evah so I’m ramming something into you quick, and I don’t want my battery to give up before I’m finished.

            Anyway, since I’m writing in the dim glow of the candle light and the bright glare of ol’ lappy with NO ELECTRICITY, I shall update you on my life.

            Let’s see… The only thing I can think of is I have a LBF (lesbian best friend) and she is AWESOME! Her name is Laura and she makes YouTube videos and stuff (http://youtube.com/user/lauraclaireful/) she also is in the Baby Beaver Bunch, so you should check that shit out too (http://youtube.com/user/babybeaverbunch/). Yeah, she lives so close to me it’s unreal, like, a 5 minute walk. We like to get drunk together. Well, me more so than her.

            And since this is most definitely the worst blog ever, I shall disappoint you no longer. Adios amigos. Until next time…

PS. I started watching D.E.B.S. on my iPod Touch which is an AMAZING film, and then the power came back on (and the friggin’ car alarm!) which kinda sucks… I think I’ll just go to bed and finish watching it. My life is awesome.

I'm almost famous.

I'm totally in this collaboration video about fighting homophobia. Suck it! It's such an amazing video though! Watch it all, but especially 0:54-0:58.

The day I met Regina Spektor.

I literally can’t express my emotions into words right now, but I’ll have a go at it anyway.

            For the second time, I was going to see Regina Spektor. You know, that amazing singer who I utterly adore and have her name tattooed on my back…? Yeah, that one. This time, we had to travel all the way to Cambridge. Despite booking in advance, it definitely wasn’t without its difficulties…

            Georgie and I had arranged to meet at 10:30 in Southampton, so I got up at 9, got ready, put my Regina Spektor hoodie on, found out mother had stained it with hair dye, almost killed her, then left to get the train. Being the douchebag I am, I forgot the bloody tickets, so managed to miss the train, forcing me to get another one! This was like, super bad, because we could only get one train up to London or we’d have to buy tickets and would miss our coach. Luckily, I was actually on the train we were getting, so I just stayed on it instead of meeting Georgie early.

            Anyway, we arrive at London, and have to meet Georgie’s cousins flatmate so she can give us the key to their apartment, so we’d actually have a roof over our heads that night. We had 25 minutes to get from the train station to the coach station. I thought that was ample time, ‘cause Google told me it took 10 minutes! Apparently, that didn’t include getting the key, and walking from the underground to the coach station, so we may or may not have missed it… Luckily, I’m super rich, so we stood in a queue for about an hour and I bought us new coach tickets for a coach that’d get us in at about 6 o’clock. This was annoying. Why? I wanted to get to the front, like, the very front of the concert and the doors opened at 7, meaning, there’d probably be loads of people already there and we wouldn’t even get close!

            However, we got to Cambridge Corn Exchange and there were only a handful of people in front of us. Probably about 20-30 people. As soon as we got in line, a guy, by himself, stood behind us. We felt it appropriate to talk to him, and he was an Australian called Tom. He was utterly lovely, and we spent the rest of the evening with him. He was also going back to London that evening and informed us of a coach back at 12:45. Our tickets were for the 11:30 coach back, and we thought that it wouldn’t finish before then so we’d miss it, so, I phoned up Daddy and he booked two tickets for the later coach. He did.

            At 7, the doors opened and we rushed to get in. Bags had to be put in the cloakroom, so we ran up to it and tried to be as quick as possible! We ran back down, and hurried to the stage. We managed to get to the second row from the front. I, unfortunately, was behind two really, super, gigantically tall people, and I could just about see over their shoulders. I did ask them to move slightly at one point, and there were as helpful as they could be, but there was literally no space, but, whatever.

            So, the support act, Nicole Atkins, came on and sang. She was really good and really sweet, but she kept ending every single song with a slow chord. Literally, every single song. Regardless of that, you should most definitely YouTube her. Like, right now. Well, after you’ve read this. After Nicole Atkins (or Catherine, as Tom called her) finished her set, it was Regina’s turn…

            Now, Regina came on stage and looked really depressed. Why? Her cellist, Dan Cho, who she’d be touring with for at least 8 months, had drowned two weeks previous. Understandably, she was upset. In fact, I wouldn’t have blamed her if she cancelled the rest of the tour. However, she still sang, incredibly, but there was little audience interaction and no encore. It was still amazing, bar the two tall people.

            The set finished at around 10:30, and I didn’t cry, but I was slightly depressed once it was over. We got our stuff, and then started talking to Nicole Atkins for about 10 minutes, who was lovely! Oh, and we totally hugged her. Then we were asked to move, ‘cause they had to close and stuff. Georgie and I realised that we could have got the coach we intended to get, but decided to stay with Tom and get the coach with him. We went to a pub and got a drink. Then they were hungry, so we walked back in the direction of the Corn Exchange towards a really cheap, ganky takeaway trailer we passed on the way. After getting our ‘nutritious’ meals, we thought it’d be fun to wait by Regina’s tour bus, on the odd chance we could meet her.

            Nicole Atkins came out and we talked to her some more. She asked for a ‘smoke’, but I’d literally just ran out, so after delving in her bag and finding one, she used my lighter. Yeah, that’s right; I’m in with famous people. Anyway, there were only about 7 other people there. Regina’s violinist was there, and we told him how good he was, and then talked to Nicole Atkins some more. Then, we heard ‘See you later, Regina’ and I literally froze. She walked round the corner, and it was like I was paralyzed. All I could do was slightly lift my arm to point at her and say ‘Th-th-that’s… That’s Re…’ Luckily, Georgie asked for a picture and we got one, I had to quickly calm down, so I could actually talk to her. I said ‘Um, can I have a hug, please, cause that’d probably make my life complete…’ and she gave me a hug. Then, feeling slightly more brave, I said ‘At the risk of sounding super creepy…’ then turned around and pulled my top down exposing my tattoo. She held my top down, stroke my tattoo and apparently, as soon as she saw it, she had a massive grin on her face like she was stupidly happy to see it. She said it was ‘amazing’, and then I told her that I saw her MySpace blog on Prop 8 and gave her one of my ‘Homosexuality is NOT a choice, but homophobia is’ wristbands. She said (regarding Prop 8) ‘I fucking hate that shit.’ She then had to go, and we walked off. About 10 seconds after, I started hyperventilating, tears in my eyes, and we were all completely shocked about what happened. We were walking through the streets of Cambridge with Tom shouting ‘WE JUST MET REGINA SPEKTOR!’. It truly was one of the best moments of my life.

            We got on the coach, looked at the picture, talked about how surreal it all was, then slept. We arrived at London, left Tom, which kinda sucked and went back to Georgie’s cousins ridiculously huge apartment. I’m talking, water features with mosaic tiles inside and a lounge bigger than a normal students apartment.

            In the morning, we met up with Becky, our friend from college who stupidly decided to move to London so we’d like, never see her again. We had a really great catch up, and had a great time with her. Then, it was time to go home. We got the train, then Daddy picked me up from the station, and I told him all about it.

            It’s never going to feel real to me, that I met Regina Spektor. I’ve literally imagined it so many times; it just feels like another fantasy. I’ve told so many people exactly what I’ve written down, and no matter how many times I’ve said it, or how many times I look at the picture, it still hasn’t sunk in. Hopefully, I’ll see her again soon. Oh, Regina Spektor, how I love you so.

My EPIC birthday.

Saturday 10^th July – My 18^th birthday.

Thursday 8^th July – Sunday 11^th July – Gay Pride.

And that’s not the only reason why my birthday was the best one EVER!

Friday:

Friday night was the start of my birthday, and Pride, celebrations. I decided that for my birthday, it should be themed, which, of course, was ‘gay’. That meant basically anything to go with homos; icons, celebrities, stereotypes, whatever! I went as something I’ve always wanted to dress up as; a drag king, and I looked bloody handsome! I had a white shirt, black tie, waistcoat, smart trousers, bound chest, slicked back hair, a goatee… The full works.

            The night started with pre-drinks round Keya’s with me, Brodie, David, Dan, Amy, and, of course, Keya. David got me a case of beer, and we got our drink on. Brodie was Boy George, Keya was basically naked (the way I like him!), Dan was a rainbow, David had his ‘I <3 Lady GayGay’ t-shirt on, but I totally looked the best, no contest. Georgie made a brief appearance to give me my present – a ‘vibrating love chair’. I’ll leave that thought with you for a minute.

            We drank, and then we headed off to town. On the bus, we made some friends with a Spanish girl, and probably pissed the rest of the passengers off. We got to the clubs. We danced, we drank, some more people came, and we got our crunk on. I got some birthday lovin’, but that’s all I’m saying on that matter. Also, Keya fell off the stage, creating a giant gash on his shoulder which I was insisting was simple a flesh wound, but ‘everyone else was saying he needed to go to hospital’ (that was shouted at me, by him.)

            At some point in the night (we were all very drunk) I met a lovely Scottish lad, and mimicked his accent for a good 30 minutes. It was a lot of fun! At around midnight, Keya launched himself on me, took me to the ground and started shouting the Happy Birthday song in my face, while waving his cigarette around! He then proceeded to smooch my face off and bellow ‘WAS I THE FIRST ONE?!’.

            Also, I told my two favourite barmen, Rob and Keith that it was my birthday, and I got a birthday drink and a birthday hug from them. Seriously, they’re awesome.

            We went got in taxi, I talked to the lovely driver, and read the paper while everyone in the back was sleeping, or dying, and we got back at around 5 am, and went to bed, so we could be ready for the Pride parade the next day.

Saturday:

            Keya, Brodie and I all agreed that we should wake up at half nine, giving us plenty of time to get ready to leave by eleven. I stayed at Brodie’s that night, and we were both up on time. I had to wash the hairspray and gel out of my hair with cold water, and it was utterly gross. The cold water helped a lot with my hangover, but my hair wasn’t fully clean and when I touched it, I wanted to vomit.

            It was almost half ten and Keya had made no contact with us, so I was forced to go round his house and knock on his bedroom door. He shouted ‘GO AWAY’ at me, but then came to the door looking very hungover. I left him to get ready, went back to mine and begged my parents for a lift to town, as I also wanted them to be there. By them, I mean Ella.

            They reluctantly decided to come, despite my mother saying that ‘this type of thing isn’t usually appropriate for a 5 year old’. Okay, seriously, the worst thing is the drunken, half naked, overly camp men grinding on objects! Anyway… We arrived where Keya and I were meeting our LGBT youth group, and, still hungover, had to walk for about an hour until we actually reached the parade starting point! Finally, we were there, and it was the most beautiful sight of my life.

            We walked up the hill, and slowly saw the crowds of people, vehicles, rainbows, and gayness and happiness radiating from everyone. There were drag queens in cowboy hats and dresses, gay men in cars, lesbians galore and everyone had smiles on their faces. We took our places in the parade, among the other kids from the youth group, we had whistles and I had my pride flag at the ready.

            The parade started to move, and just seeing the procession of people, knowing I was in there, with them, gave me chills. We marched through town, passing children waving, old people smiling at us from their balconies, people cheering, all at us. They were all supporting our cause, and marching for something that is so important to me, and having a sea of people cheering, shouting, waving, and supporting us was the most overwhelming and emotional experience of my life. I struggled to hard to keep the tears back. I’ve never felt so proud in my life, which, I guess is kinda the point for Gay Pride, right?

            After the amazing parade, Keya, Brodie and I went down to watch the other events and made Ella, and my parents come too. Ella was watching the singing and really enjoyed it. She also liked holding my flag. We stayed and watched for a bit, then decided to go home in the afternoon to get ready for the celebrations that evening!

            I got home and saw my grandma for a bit. She made me cake, I couldn’t *not* see her! Then showered, and got ready for the evenings events, with a stomach still not feeling right.

            We went back to pride, this time, Keya, Louisa and I. We started off at the Pride area, where we abused a topless Mohican, with ‘Kiss My’ and an arrow pointing to his arse tattooed on him. We made up dance moves, inspired by people we saw which was hilarious! Then a very drunk friend kept wishing me a happy birthday. Then we went clubbing, I still felt sick, but I decided that drinking would help me through the pain! So, that’s what I did! Louisa, unfortunately, went home early ‘cause she was feeling ill, which sucked, but I didn’t want her to have a crappy night not feeling too good. I ended up getting very drunk, bumping into an ‘ex’ (loose term) and having a very, very awkward conversation with her. Then, at around 4 am, I thought it’d be really fun to shadow the people working there! First, I sat behind the desk checking whether or not people had stamps when they came in. Then, after the girl wanted her job back, I stood by the door, arms crossed, looking slightly angry, and asked people for ID and stamps, and they genuinely bought it! So many people, as long as they didn’t know me, believed I was a bouncer! I then went to cheer up my baby Keith (one of the awesome barmen I mentioned earlier), we were talking and I made him happy. Then he got me a lollypop and that made me happy! I got bored and thought it’d be an amazing idea to go and offer drinks to the staff and collect empty glasses. Then, I got a cloth and wiped down the surfaces. This meant I got another lolly and a free drink! This may seem extremely strange, but it was actually the most fun I’d had in a long time! I then saw Keith going into Tesco and helped with his shopping… There’s something wrong with me.

            It was 8 am and, since the sun was coming out, we decided it’d be a good time to leave the phone box with Adam Lambert and Diego (he’s lovely) and get the bus back home. Plus, I felt like death.

Sunday:

            On Sunday, Keya, Louisa, Diego and I met in town again, and this time, I felt less death-y but still quite death-y. It seemed like a good idea (after my Pepsi and ice cream from KFC) to get the drinks in. I ordered vodka and ice, which was SO good for my hangover! Like, it really was! Then we watched this theatre group perform on stage and they were the worst. Singers. EVER! Like, my ears started bleeding, they had little applause and their choreographer should have been shot. Regardless, the more I drunk the more Louisa and I deemed it necessary to mock them by mimicking their dance moves and singing. It’s okay, they couldn’t hear us…

            We carried on drinking, and listened to the bangin’ tunez on DJ Pride. Yes, the DJ was called ‘DJ Pride’. Then, Louisa spotted a scrawny, ginger barman, who she immediately fancied. We kept getting drinks, well, Louisa and I did, and before Keya and Diego left, because we’d embarrassed Keya, they went up to the barman and told him that Louisa/’that girl over there’ (my cue to point) fancied him. Louisa, extremely embarrassed refused to get anymore drinks until he had gone. It was just Louisa and I left, and I kept trying to make her talk to him, but alas, she wouldn’t.

            We spent the rest of the night avoiding stalky lesbians who know me, and I chatted up some Polish woman with a haircut like Obi Wan Kenobi for fun.

            It was time to leave, as Louisa had a train and it closed at 11 pm. Before we left, Ginger Barman apologised for earlier when we made a pathetic attempt at talking to him by asking for a lighter and he walked away. Then, I stole his phone, and saved Lou’s number in it and told him to text her. He never did…

            As we were walking to the train station, we managed to find out who won the World Cup by the masses and masses of Spanish people ecstatically cheering. We managed to get through the crowds of people by walking though, with a spring in our step, shouting ‘Hola!’, ‘Espana!’ and ‘Te amo Espanol!’. We’re not fluent in the language, so they were the three things we mustered up.

            Finally, we emerged from the thousands of Spanish people, to find a ripped t-shirt on top of a bin. Being the hyper drunkards we are, we took the t-shirt. Louisa took a whiff of the bin shirt and discovered that it was actually very clean. She still has it and plans to wear it.

            We eventually arrived at the train station, Louisa abandoned me to get a train, I got harassed by a skag’ead for 50p and then I went home and slept for about a thousand hours with a massive smile on my face because it truly was the best birthday weekend ever.

            Thank you to everyone who made my birthday amazing; my friends, family and random drunk people I met. I love the memories, and will treasure them forever.

As promised, a post exam update.

So, it’s official, I’m out of education, possibly forever, I don’t quite know yet… Also, I’m sorry I haven’t blogged in like 400 years, but I’ve been busy procrastinating, and that takes a lot of time and effort!

            A lot’s changed since the last time I’ve blogged, mainly for the better, rather than the worse. I’ve finished all my exams, I’ve got a full time job at work, and I’ve got so much planned for the summer!

I can’t quite remember whether or not I told you about it, but my plan was, in September, to go to Brunel University and study English Language and Creative Writing. It’s an amazing uni, and writing is something I’m interested in. However, I may have accidently completely and utterly failed my coursework because I spent the majority of my English lessons at the back of the room killing hookers, stealing cars and shooting cops playing Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas on my laptop, meaning I couldn’t, regardless of how well the exam went, get the desired grades to get into uni. The exam went pretty shit anyway though. On a good exam note though, my Drama exam went alright, and my Media went great!

So, back to more stuff you don’t care about. As I said, I failed English, so I was all like ‘Oh, shit… I guess I’ll take a gap year and retake…?’, but something even better has happened! I’ve found my calling! My dream job! LGBT youth work! Basically, as I was doing my GAYly research, I found a Dorset based project called Space, which is for 15-19 year olds who identify as LGBTQ and want a space to feel comfortable. So, I had the ingenious idea of going along and asking about volunteering. Keya, who was also interested, came with me. It’s only been our second week but it’s gone really well. Now, I just need to sort out whether I really wanna do it or not and then probably go back to college to get some sort of qualification…

In other gay news, (which I know is the one and only reason you’re reading this, to find out more about my homoerotic, lesbonic, dykadellic life) I’ve created a really gay Facebook group! In a month it got around 190,000+ members, and with your help, all 3 of you who read this because I force you too, we can make it more, yes? It’s called Homosexuality is NOT a choice, but homophobia is, so join it, please? I will also be producing merchandise, like t-shirts, stickers, badges, and other stuff like that, when I get off my arse and actually bother. So, in about a year…?

Here’s the link: http://www.facebook.com/pages/Homosexuality-is-NOT-a-choice-but-homophobia-is/120303671335924?ref=ts

I’m pretty sure that’s it. I’ve just been failing and being really, really gay. OH, speaking of gay! Over summer, I’m (hopefully) going to THREE pride festivals! Hell yeah! The first one being my birthGAY one in Bournemouth, which, if you can, you should attend. The second being Brighton Pride, and the third being Manchester. Also, over summer, I’m seeing Regina Spektor. AGAIN! That pretty much sums up my summer… More gaying!

I should probably try and be a little more hetero, but CBA.

Peace xoxo HUGZ ‘N’ KIZZEZ <3<3 Mwah <3<3 xoxoxox Luff yhoo all <3333

Possibly the best Friday in my entire existence

Okay, so today has literally been one of the best days of my life. I’m not even kidding. I know you won’t care, but I want to relive the best day, like, ever!

            Okay, so I woke up at 7 am, and didn’t miss the train to college! Then I went to Drama, which was actually alright, considering it was just a boring written lesson. After Drama, I usually have 4 hours of free periods, which I spend in the library procrastinating as much as possible, watching Family Guy and playing Grand Theft Auto. Today, however, Georgie, Emily and I all went to Becky’s, which is like a 10 minute walk, yet, we drove there. Regardless, we made a cup of tea, talked about my epic birthday that’s coming up and talked about masturbation. Then Becky asked if I would masturbate in front of her. I declined. Then, we talked about porn and found it appropriate to watch the sickest porn we could find, because we’re strange like that and find it hilarious! We kinda popped Emily’s weird porn virginity with viral videos such as 2Guys1Stump, 1Man1Jar and Putrid Sex Object. It was great!

            We put the laptop away after not being able to find 2Girls1Cup and 1Man1Screwdriver, then Georgie decided to show us her special talent! Queefing! It was the weirdest thing watching her do a shoulder stand whilst spreading her legs at all sorts of different angles with Becky stating that she could ‘hear it breathe’.

            Then we chatted, laughed, watched Georgie attempt to roll (which ended atrociously!) and left to go back to college, where I met up with Louisa and Keya, and we spent about half an hour with each other before our lessons began again.

            It was time for English, so I trudged along, not looking forward to an hour with The Witch only to find out our lesson had been cancelled! So, back I went to the library, completed the essay plan for my next lesson and played Grand Theft Auto. Awesome.

            It was time for Media with Keya, Chris, Emily, Tom, Hope and Ben, who are all amazingly hilarious. Also, we had Graham, our crazy ginger, wannabe hip-hop artist teacher. Surprisingly enough, we didn’t really do much work.

            After the lesson ended, I got a phone call from David, asking me if I wanted to go up to Southampton to join him as he was there by himself getting his MacBook fixed. At first, I declined ‘cause I really couldn’t be bothered. Then I roped Keya into coming, and we got the train, with Max and Tom (from Media).

            On the train, Max was being a homosexual bastard. I was trying to snuggle him, like a normal couple do, and he was completely rejecting me!! So, we had a small domestic where I moaned at him for trying to act ‘manly’ in front of his friends, and not showing me affection. Then, I brought up how he cheated on me at his brothers wedding. He claimed that was because he saw me and his brother in a room together, which he jumped to extreme conclusions about because his brother was telling me not to break up with Max! Max then (at the wedding) kissed a girl in front of me because he ‘thought I was cheating on him’, and then punched his brother in his face!! I had to break up with Max then and there because I just couldn’t take it anymore. I decided to make Max jealous by flirting with Keya. It totally worked.

            Whilst all this was going on, there was a really rather attractive woman sat opposite us on the row behind, and she kept looking at us. I decided it would be appropriate to pull really strange, hideous faces at her. Unfortunately, I think she saw one… LOL!

            Time jump! We’re now at Southampton, Max, Keya and I, and we’re going to meet David. David had finished getting his MacBook fixed by the potentially gay guy in the shop who gave David a £100 battery for free, so we went for dinner at Nando’s.

            After waiting forever to actually get seated, we finally did. I decided, being the lovely, wonderful person that I am, that I’d buy the boys their dinner. After a nice political debate about the new government, we were ready to order. Up Max, David and I went to the till, ready to place our orders, and luckily, there wasn’t a large queue. Unfortunately, there was a Chinese lady in front who didn’t quite understand her receipt. After literally about 10 minutes and the staff member going through it at least seven times, she seemed content, so finally left! We ordered our food, and sat down to wait.

            Whilst we were eating, for some really strange reason, Keya started talking about how much we hated our husbands (David and Max). Keya was bitching about how David didn’t like the dinner he cooked, so he ate his baby, and I was bitching about how on Valentines Day, Max chased me around the house with an axe. It was literally hilarious, and it’s been videoed, so there’ll no doubt be a link on here post-production, and/or on my Twitter (@Dykadellic) and Facebook.

            David needed to get some new work shoes, so we looked in Schuh, a shoe shop, surprisingly, where the staff were so rude! Max and I were clearly having a conversation with each other, and this woman interrupts us mid-laugh, to ask us if we ‘need any help’. Erm, excuse me, but one, we’re not even buying anything, and two, you totally just butted in! I’m joking, we’re not that obnoxious.

            Then, after an unsuccessful browse in there, we went to Sports Direct, which is basically a maze of sports clothes, shoes, equipment and other accessories. Max and I got bored, and I was pointing at all the really attractive shoes telling Max he looked like them. Then we, mainly I, got hyper, and pretended the shop was a jungle, started making orgasm noises near people, then hiding and trying on hats.

            We went to McDonald’s to get a McFlurry, because I’m obese and need a constant supply of food. There, we sat, almost alone, took pictures of us, and the cleaning staff (that bit was just me) and I may or may not have pretended I was deaf, and even put on the ‘voice’. It was kinda hilarious, so don’t judge me, because I already know I’m horrid, but if you were there, you’d be going to hell too, because you would have laughed!

            The time had come for us to head back to the train station, and also time for another alter ego to come out. This time, I was Winston (after Churchill, you know), son of Napoleon, commander of the H.M.S. Victory in the war on the Spanish Armada, and very well spoken, racist, rich, upper class gentlemen, who only has one white slave “And that’s the wife! Chortle!”. This was also videoed, and if I may say so myself, it was hilarious. There’s something wrong with me, but I like it.

            Anyway, after about 1000 hours of laughter, mainly caused by Max, it was time to depart. Max was going the opposite way to us, so David, Keya and I got on the train together, and I doodled on pictures of people in the paper.

All in all, it’s been an exquisite day, and I’m pretty sure I couldn’t get better friends even if I tried.

Fish out of Water

Being the giant homosexual that I am, I decided to purchase a DVD called Fish out of Water, a documentary on homosexuality and the Bible. I’m not a Christian, I’ve never experienced any real discrimination from the Christian community for being gay, and I come from a largely secular part of the UK where, on the whole, people are less passionate about religion, unlike in America, where the documentary is filmed.           

The documentary is about a young woman’s abandonment by her Christian friends when she came out in college, and then her realisation that Christianity doesn’t condemn homosexuality. Ky Dickens, the creator of this film, interviewed over 100 people, including several church officials, all but two who accepted homosexuality (one was from the West Borough Baptist Church), including an AfterEllen.com writer, Trish Bendix. 

I can’t convey how much this film affected me. It’s made me revaluate my life, so to speak. I am a strong believer in equal rights for everyone, especially the homosexuals. I am so passionate about being gay and being involved in the community that I’ve literally become absorbed in my gay bubble, which protects me from all the condemnation, so I brush past the real homophobia out there because I’ve never had to deal with it. As far as being active in the fight for gay rights, I occasionally troll the anti-gay groups on Facebook, educate my friends on the topic and attend pride festivals. This DVD has made me really want to be so much more active in the LGBTQ community, at the risk of sounding like a clichéd douche; it’s been an inspirational eye opener for me. It really has. 

I don’t understand how people can have so much hate in their hearts and claim it to be Christianity. Personally, I’m agnostic, but I’ve studied religion at a relatively low level, but I’m not uneducated on the topic. The backbone of Christianity is love. ‘God is love’, 1 John 4:8. In pretty much any situation that can be applied, so why are these ‘Christians’ allowing their souls to be overcome with hatred for their fellow man?! It doesn’t make sense to me. 

The film disproves theories that fundamentalists have clutched onto for decades to coin homosexuality as a sin, when really, if you look into the verses, as the documentary shows, the verses, such as Leviticus, “A man shall not lie with another man as it is an abomination”, they’re out of context, outdated or are shown from another perspective to not speak about homosexuality at all! I can’t articulate what the pastors, philosophers and other specialist say as well as them, so I strongly urge you to watch the DVD. 

I’m not intending to offend anyone with my words. I respect people of faith; I really do, because I personally can’t commit myself to one religion and believe it to be the inerrant truth. Having said that though, I do not tolerate homophobia, or discrimination of any sort, and I think that Christians who condone this discrimination are fools, to be honest. 

I think one of the reasons that this affected me so much was because it showed the true extent of homophobia to me. You know when you’re forced to study World War 2 in History, and you look at the holocaust? Or when you’re studying slavery, or other forms of extreme discrimination? You study it, but you don’t really understand it because it’s easier to generalise it and overlook the true scale and horror that happened. 

I can’t urge you enough to watch this film. It’s just amazing. Another incredible film about homosexuality and Christianity would be Prayers for Bobby, which is based on the real story of a young man who commits suicide because his extremely Christian mother refuses to accept his sexuality. It takes a lot to make me cry, but that film made me cry hysterically. It’s definitely worth watching, and it can be easily watched online for free, or bought.

Fish out of Water website: http://fishoutofwaterfilm.com/

Fish out of Water trailer: http://fishoutofwaterfilm.com/trailer.html

Prayers for Bobby trailer: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gU-1ho0c9Ik&feature=related

Paedophile Dave and the Racist Latvian.

It was Friday, and Keya had planned to go out clubbing with a 50 year old man called Dave (AKA Dave the Rapist, Paedophile Dave). Now, I don’t go out on Friday nights clubbing because I have work the next day, and when I don’t sleep, I get grouchy. I also have an inability to leave the clubs early and not get utterly wasted (money permitting). However, Keya invited me out. At first I declined, until I realised he was going with Paedophile Dave, meaning I had to go otherwise Keya might get his drink spiked and rape may occur!

            Side note; You may think I’m over reacting with the whole ‘drink spiking’ thing, but Dan, who also went out that night, went back to Dave’s one time, got offered coffee and after a few sips felt light headed, so ran away. Hence the name ‘Dave the Rapist’.

            Keya, David and I had a quick gym session (which was much quicker for Keya who gave up after an hour) then I showered, and got ready to go to Keya’s for predrinks, then town.

            Keya was already slightly drunk by the time we got on the bus and met Dan. We arrived in town and waited for Paedophile Dave. Whilst waiting, Keya informed me that Dave said he’d pay for Keya’s drinks that night. Being the jammy fucker I am, I decided that we should formulate a plan where I get free drinks too.

            At this point, Keya was rather drunk, as was Dan, and I was getting tipsy. Then along came Dave. We made up some story to him about how I don’t have a passport, and only have my student ID and whatnot, which claims I’m 19 and blah, blah, blah, so he said if anyone questions me, to pretend I’m his little sister. Ain’t gonna lie mate, but do you *honestly* think we could get away with that?! You’re about the same age as my dad!!

            We ventured into the gay bars, and Dave bought all three of us drinks. We were served by these two gigantic bears! (If you don’t know what a ‘bear’ is, look it up in the gay section.) Then we went to another one, which was actually busy. We got there, I bought Keya and me a drink, and then we went to the beer garden and socialised.

            Whilst we were here, I may have completely eavesdropped in on Dave talking to his butch lesbian friend. The part of the conversation that I overheard went a little something like this:

            “This is my new missus. Yeah, it’s going really well. I’ve got her name tattooed on me and everything!”

            After bearing witness to the epitome of the lesbian community, Dan suggested quickly going to another club to get stamps before midnight so the entry was half price. We told Dave we were going, and he said he’d meet us in there. Then Keya and I performed an exquisite routine of ‘Oh, do you have any money, Keya? Cause I don’t.’ when we clearly did. Dave the Rapist gave us £20 which Keya smoothly refused to accept, so I took it and promised Dave I’d give him the change.

            We ran over to the club, laughing at our profit, went into the club, bought drinks with Dave’s money, and got our rave on.

            I was substantially drunk and I saw this rather attractive girl sat by herself. I walked over to her and asked her to dance, well, forced her upon the dance floor, and offered to buy her a drink, which, thankfully for my pocket, she declined. I then informed her, and the gay guy she was with, that I was going for a cigarette, which Keya joined me for. Keya then asked the sexuality of the pair, in a slurring manner. Apparently, the girl was straight! That made me glad she declined my drink offer, but sad in my pants.

            Then, I started talking to this guy from Latvia, wearing a t-shirt that read ‘If I say I’m gay, will you let me touch your boobs.’ For some drunken reason, I said ‘YES!’, and then he started talking about how he preferred the gay scene because there were less ‘niggers’.

            So, I’m there like ‘What…?’ and he starts chatting on about how white people should stay in Europe, yellow people should stay in Asia and black people should stay in Africa eating bananas in trees (his words NOT mine). I started laughing because it was all so ridiculous! I genuinely was under the impression he was joking. Then Keya came out, and I can’t remember what was said but I remember Keya coming over, talking to us for a bit and then dragging me away because Keya thought he was being racist. I then explain to Keya that the Latvian guy was just joking… Then the Latvian said that he wasn’t joking. Keya kicked off.

            The next thing I can recall is Keya’s skinny 5’4” frame squared up to the 6ft, well built Latvian, with me beside Keya, fists clenched, ready to punch him in the head. Apparently, I had time to text Twitter informing them of this fight, whilst Keya was shouting in the Latvian’s face. Paedophile Dave came out just in time to drag Keya off the Latvian he kicked as I was telling him that he should “walk the fuck away”.

            We went back in the club, explain to the lovely bouncer, Sean, what had happened, and I told him about how he called black people monkeys, and the Latvian was banned. Drunken lary kids: 1. Racist Latvian: 0.

            Now, we’re back in the club and Keya’s getting hit on by this guy. I’m at the bar, ready to buy another drink. I look over to Keya who has obviously requested that in the courting process, this homo must buy him a drink. I watch this guy, just in case he tries to spike Keya’s drink or something, and he literally walks over to the bar, changes his mind, picks up this half full glass from the table, and gives it to Keya! Then, I caught Keya’s eyes, he looked back at me, one elbow on the table, resting his head against his hand to hold it up, eyes half shut, lifting the drink to his lips. I shook my head at him, and Keya put the drink down. I then walked over to him, and told him where the guy got the drink from. Then I picked it up and started to drink it. Yeah, I’m gross, get over it!

            We danced, we drank some more, we spent all of Paedophile Dave’s money on drinks because he never asked for change! I made out with a black girl. We danced the Bad Romance. Then, the club we were in was shutting. Keya and I decided that it would be best to head back home.

            We got outside the club, around 4 AM, and then we saw him again. The racist Latvian! I remember Keya shouting at him, me telling him to fuck off whilst following him down the street to make sure he went, then I turned around and Keya’s on the floor wrestling with some guy! Neither of us have a clue why, and I’m pretty sure we’ll never know.

            At half four, we finally got on the bus to go home. I was being chatted up by a 37 year old called Nick, who was actually lovely, despite being creepy. Keya then threw up before we got into the taxi, which I filmed, of course! Then we got back to his house, I decided to ride my moped the 3 minute journey back to mine standing up! Then I got back, at 5 AM, went to sleep, then woke up at 9 AM to get ready for work.

            I spent £50 in total that night. I felt like shit for work. We got into a fight. It was amazing though. And Keya didn’t even get raped!

Princess Keya and Dykadellic!

This is a story dedicated to Keya, my very camp best friend who I regularly blog about for his 18th birthday. Happy birthday, Keya. I love you.

Once upon a time, there was a beautiful girl called Keya. Keya lived in a majestic house in the picturesque village of Broadstonia. Keya lived with her loving parents, and her three gorgeous sisters. Keya was the most beautiful, kind, loving and talented of all her siblings, and that is why everyone she met adored her. Keya had long, shiny, jet black locks, which shimmered in the sunlight, and flowed down to her tiny waist.

There was only one problem in Keya’s life, and that was how Broadstonia was plagued with vicious, antisocial beasts called chavs. As soon as she stepped out of her house, she was mugged, beaten and tormented by the brutal beings. Keya felt that she had only one option; to join them. With tears in her eyes, she drew the clippers to her head and shaved off all her hair. She wept as clumps of her perfect hair fell to the floor. Hands shaking, she lifted up a mirror to admire her grade one haircut. She felt so ashamed of herself that she crumpled into a ball in the corner of her pink, princess-clad room, and cried hysterically. She raised her head and stared at the poster in front of her. It was a picture of the Disney Princesses with the slogan ‘Dreams Come True’. She said that inspirational quote over and over again in her head, and with a determined look upon her face, she promised herself that one day she would be a princess.

Keya stayed in Broadstonia for many, many years, but longed to escape. One day, she met a girl called Tash, who was soon to become a close friend. Keya and Tash had many adventures together and would constantly squat in their den playing with farts, fans and whiteboards. Keya was never happier than when he was playing with Tash, but unfortunately, the bonds of their friendship were broken as Keya was grasped by the hands of poor education, leaving Tash all by herself receiving a better one.

The years went by, and Keya mourned over the loss of her dear friend Tash, and she longed to be with her everyday. Luckily, she met a boy called Thomas Turnblad, and they soon became the best of chums. They did everything together. They were a most mischievous pair, constantly getting into trouble. One time, they almost burned down a whole island!

Keya, still with her shaved head, decided that it was time to move on and leave the small town on Broadstonia in order to explore the world and attempt to be reunited with Tash. She was granted a place in the educational establishment of Broken-Hearse. As soon as she left Broadstonia, she felt like she was a different person. Her sense of style changed from shabby builder, to glamour queen. She even felt it was time to grow back her long, beautiful locks.

Her first day at Broken-Hearse was the best day of her life. She found herself bundled into a Media class with the commoners, many of whom would be instantly forgotten. She took a seat near the front, and as she turned to her side, she saw a boy who she thought she recognised. “Hi, I’m Keya.” She said, to the stunningly handsome lad. “Hey, how’s it going? I’m Tash.” Replied a voice accompanied by a winning smile. It was Tash, Keya’s old friend! Keya leapt up in joy and hugged the very stunned Tash. “I thought I’d never see you again!” Keya wept.

The two instantly connected again, and after several orquard train journeys back, they were soon onto speaking endlessly about shiek topics such as hurpies and homosexuality. They fell back in love, and were rarely parted. They showed their affection by constantly groping each other, making out and pretending to be cats underneath the table in Media.

One day, as Keya and Tash were together, they befriended an odd couple; Dangerous Dave and FagHag. Dangerous Dave, or DD for short, was a raving homosexual, just like Keya and Tash, and they all immediately got on from the word go. FagHag was a lover of gays, and mixed with their homosexuality, they all got on like a hooker gets on men.

The foursome had many fun times together. They went out together, to places like the Buck of Stars, and The Triangle. They were the most popular people about and everyone wanted to be them. They were so well loved that many people got jealous and gave them massive evils when they shouted about things such as food porn, toxic shock syndrome and Maddie McCann.

Tash, Dangerous Dave and FagHag all got caught in a huge storm one day. As the rain soaked their skin and the wind smarted their faces, Tash had some thinking time. She realised that is was her destiny to become the worlds best lesbian blogger and renamed herself ‘Dykadellic’.

Dykadellic, formerly Tash, got into a fight with a huge sea beast known as The Walrus. The Walrus used her thunderous thighs to asphyxiate Dykadellic, and forced her phalanges into the forest of no return. Keya, being the brave young girl she is, wrestled with The Walrus, despite the stench coming from its skin being unbearable.

After Keya saved Dykadellic’s life, a fairy godmother came down in the form of BroBear, a wondrous being, and granted Keya one wish. Keya wished to be a princess for the rest of her days. Her wish was granted and Princess Keya was the ruler of all Broadstonia. She banished the chavs who had plagued her life for so long to the benches near Tesco, and made Dykadellic her king, and Dyakdellic changed her name again to Ewan Moore. Dangerous Dave, FagHag and BroBear all lived at Princess Keya’s castle and they all lived happily ever after.

Praise the Lord for Geek Night!

Wednesday night was one of the best nights of my life. Thursday morning was one of the worst hangovers of my life. David’s 18th was certainly a good one.
As I’m sure you could tell, it was David’s birthday, so we went out for it. I met at Keya’s sister’s house where Louisa, Brodie and Keya all already were. A slight bout of pre drinking then ensued before Eloise came to pick us up.
Before I carry on, I must let you know that David’s birthday was a themed one, and the theme was ‘Geeks’. Louisa looked like a slutty school girl was glasses. Brodie looked like a six year old prostitute. Keya looked like he was going to work. (I’m ripping their costumed to shreds to hype mine up more), and my costume was by far the best. I went all out! I had black jeans and a white shirt on; tucked in, of course! Under that, I had a Transformers top, Space Invaders boxers and Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle socks. My father lent me his oversized tie with cartoon sheep making love on! I had a blazer, which had been cut into a waistcoat, I had parted my hair into curtains and I’d even found my old retainer and wore that. Put it this way, I looked hideous!
We rolled up at the pub in Eloise’s car and went inside to greet everyone. David was sat in the middle, and we gave him his oversized ‘To my Husband’ card, balloon and massive ‘18’ badges (by we I mean, Keya and Lou bought this, I took some of the credit). Keya then let David know that for his present, we’re giving him the ticket to go and see Lady GaGa again with Keya! In my books, that makes us pretty damn good friends, no?
Keya, Lou and Brodie ordered chips from the pub as they were hungry, and I went to the toilet. I came back to find out that Keya and Lou were getting kicked out because they didn’t have any I.D. Apparently, you’re not allowed to be in a pub after 9 if you’re under 18. So, with that, the majority of us stood outside in the smoking shelter and grumbled about the age limit, since, a fair few of us were underage! Brodie brought Keya and Lou’s chips out to them, and as soon as they started eating them, a member of staff appeared and told them that they had to ‘leave the premises’. They told him that they wanted to eat their chips. He wouldn’t let them. He wouldn’t let them take the plate either! He then threatened to call the police to which Lou replied ‘Oh, it’s okay. They’ll take about 20 minutes to get here, anyway, and we would have finished our chips.’. However, they ended up grabbing handfuls of burning hot chips, and walking out the pub complaining about the heat against their delicate skin. Wimps.
Regardless, Eloise drove us back to Keya’s sister’s house to pick up Lou’s I.D that she forgot, then to McDonald’s drive thru, then back to the pub to pick other people up before driving us to town. She did a lot of driving that night, dropping people off and picking people up, so, thank you very much. It was really, really helpful, especially since it was pissing it down!!
Then we got to the gay end of town; Anna, David, Louisa, Keya and I. We went into the club and started drinking. For some reason, I drunk a lot more than normal, downing shots of Sambuca and vodka lemonades. We drank, we danced, we make fools of ourselves. Then, Bad Romance came on. Keya and I are amazing at the dance, so, what did we do? Stood up on the dance floor and did the dance to Bad Romance. It was amazing! It was actually really cool. We then drunk some more.
At one point, we resided outside the club, probably smoking, and met some really cool people. We then sat on a wall opposite the club where Anna didn’t feel to good, so David told us they were gonna go home and a drunken Louisa and I put on our best Southern American accents (think True Blood) and started shouting about how “The homosexuals! And the blacks! Are going to hell!”. We also shouted “Praise the Lord!” a large amount too…
After getting over the ‘hallelujahs’, my memory is slightly hazy. Apparently, Keya tried to pick Lou up, but in his drunken state, he fell back and hit his head, knocking him out for five minutes. Lou said there were people coming up to her asking if he was okay, which she just brushed off claiming he was fine! This may have been the point where I texted Twitter saying “Fuck. I lost friends.” The next thing I remember, apart from a lot of erratic dancing and more drinks was Keya, for some reason, flicking his drink at Lou, who retaliated, and it all got a bit out of hand and soon, we were picking up random drinks and throwing them in each others faces!! I got it in my eye and the bubbles burned, so I ran into the toilet to rinse my face, and was shortly followed by Keya and Louisa. We ran the taps, filled up our cup and pursued to soak each other for the sole reason of amusement! We realised that we should probably leave before we got barred, so we ran out of the club, towards the taxi rank, giggling like schoolgirls. We got in the taxi, I sat in the front and maybe talked to the driver as I was most comprehendible out of all us three. We got back to Keya’s sister’s house and crashed out. This was between 3 and 4 AM.
We awoke sometime later morning and we all felt so crappy. I felt like I was going to vomit and my head was on the verge of exploding. My hair was ridiculous! It was all stuck up and half parted from my curtains! We just sat down in almost silence for a long time before realising we should probably go home. I got home, ate basically the whole house, and then went to sleep for 5 hours and woke up feeling a lot better, but still slightly sick. It’s taken me two days to not gag at the thought of alcohol, but would I do it all again? Hell yeah! That was a night to go down in history.

Epic life FAIL.

I remember a time when I’d post a blog pretty much once a week because I actually had exciting things going on in my life. I remember a time when I wasn’t drowning in a sea of coursework, using only the raft of procrastination as a float, which, to be honest, doesn’t get me anywhere, or keep me afloat very well. I remember a time when I wasn’t staying in to do coursework for subjects that I’m failing because I haven’t done the coursework, but then end up lying in bed watching Buffy instead!
Okay, that last part was a lie. I’ve always been a professional procrastinator. But still, seriously, at the moment, my life sucks!! I’m not going out because everyone has work to do, and that includes me. I’ve skived like 4 days off college in the past few weeks, which, for someone who attends every lesson unless there is a good reason, is really bad! I’ve also done several all nighters. Why? Because I needed to do my coursework. What did I do instead? Watch stuff online and molest Twitter. I could be using the time I’m wasting now to do something relatively productive, but no, I’m going to sit here and whinge about what I should be doing whilst refreshing Facebook every five minutes!
Exams start in three weeks apparently. I need to finish my coursework to a good standard and then learn, not revise, learn all the things I need to know for my exams! Another thing, to get into the university I want to go to, I need to get BBC. Now, all of this is totally not out of my reach. I don’t even really need to push myself to get that. I’m naturally smart, and good with exams. I just lack severely in motivation! Nothing appeals to me! I don’t want to write an article on how you have to talk like a man to get a good job! I don’t want to create a website analysing the opening credits of Buffy! I don’t want to think about how to direct a play! I just really, really can’t be bothered! I’ve even tried making everything more exciting by making it as gay as possible, like, using Xena and Buffy as example in my Media essay, or comparing Liz Feldman and Julie Goldman in my English. Nothing’s working.
Basically, I’m being a total whiny bitch because I’m freaking out about failing. I also have realised how much it’s gonna cost to go to uni. A lot. I’m also in debt by about £300 to my parents. The thing is, even if I did randomly go back in time and sprout an extra week, I can almost guarantee you I’d just spend it in bed doing shit all! I didn’t even go to the gym for two weeks because I couldn’t be bothered… My entire life lacks in motivation! Maybe I’m not pushing myself because I think I’m gonna fail and it’ll be less embarrassing if I fail without trying than putting the effort in and failing anyway. I don’t know. All I know is that unless I seriously buckle down I’m not going to uni. I have my deadlines in a few days. I’ve been telling myself I need to do this for months. I fail at life.
This academic year has gone so quickly, and I don’t feel like I’ve achieved much, bar making new friends! I’ll manage it. I always scrape by… Somehow!
On a good note though, my best friend of all time, Brodie, has started blogging, so I think you should check it out, because, to be honest, she’s almost as cool as me! It’s just a blog about stuff that happens in her life or things she finds interesting and amusing. I can pretty much guarantee that it’s gonna be good. So, check it out http://brodiedb.tumblr.com/ kthx.
So, now I’ve wasted a sufficient amount of time writing this, I feel I should stop. I probably shouldn’t have started, but it’s a lot more productive than making pterodactyl noises and talking with a gay lisp. Get over the fact that I’m kinda weird? Over and out! (I’m so lame!)

Post production edit: StumbleUpon.com is my new favourite website. It’s basically the procrastinators essential! And I’m not sure whether Stumbling Upon this: http://www.stumbleupon.com/su/24AieZ/asil.logicalinsanity.ca/300college%252520paper.html was ironic, or a sign…

Seven hours in London.

We woke up, showered, ate what food we had left (okay, that part was just me), and left the hotel room for 12. We then walked to a tube station, and went to the main part of London. We kinda had to spend the day in London ‘cause our coach back didn’t depart until 7 in the evening. So, to use up time, we went to the Alexander McQueen shop, for Keya (where he signed McQueen’s tribute book), Hamley’s for me and Selfridges and Harrods for David (he liked the idea of saying he’d bought things from those shops), among other places. We also went to McDonald’s for lunch, and Folding Chair by Regina Spektor came on!!
We also went to the Disney store where I bought Ella a Finding Nemo cup, Keya bought his nephew a really soft cushion and we all chipped in to buy Louisa a Monsters, Inc. toy, as it’s her favourite film and she didn’t come with us. She was incredibly happy with her Mike Wazowski soft toy.
We then found an attraction called Pasaje del Terror. Now, I am a total wuss. I absolutely hate any scary films, in fact, I have to watch Buffy with the lights on, I’m that much of a wuss! Keya, however, enjoys the fear factor, and David watches horror films purely to laugh at them. Bearing this in mind, I was sceptical about going in, we all were. It was £14 to get in, and we thought it might be a disappointment. However, the lady dressed up in a ridiculous Victorian style outfit was very convincing, so we went in, all ready to be scared. It was based on Jack the Ripper, and started with a 3D film in which really bad acting was followed by even worse CGI. None of us could take it seriously because of the actors they had probably picked up off the street and paid them a fiver. However, this did not stop David screaming like a woman when ‘Jack the Ripper’ jumped out. Keya and I looked at each other, disappointed, giving an expression like ‘Meh’, then looked at David and laughed.
Then our group was led (by a policeman) into a stupidly dark room, where the scariest thing was the fear of bashing into something and hurting yourself. He then stopped us, went through the safety part of the tour, and then pointed at Keya, and told him that he had to lead our group! David and I laughed, especially since Keya looked confused and scared! He then had to walk up a corridor to this door, and knock on it. Him flinching as a hunched over man in a brown hooded cape flung the door open was hilarious! The caped guy then said some stuff about Jack the Ripper and blah, blah, blah and then tried to make me jump by randomly lunging and stamping his foot right next to me. It didn’t work. We then carried on the tour with Keya leading, me next and David behind me. Keya was clutching onto me, scared to take another step into each section, so I shook him off and told him to ‘man up’. Then, the unexpected happened. I felt something on my arm, and it was in fact David grasping onto me! I told David to ‘stop being such a pussy’ and pushed him in front of me. We went through all these dark rooms with actors jumping out at you in each one. I didn’t even flinch. David screamed quite a bit and made hilarious comments such as ‘Hello, Mum.’ to the woman strapped to her bed screaming like a mental patient. Keya, however, jumped back, lost his footing and collapsed to the floor! Three times! It was hilarious and very Taylor Swift when Ellen jumped out at her! (If you didn’t get that, YouTube it… It’s amazing!) We arrived at the last room, and I, again, didn’t jump, but the foreign woman behind me who had been shrieking throughout, ran and pushed past me trying desperately to get out, which was rather amusing.
We then decided, after Keya and David had recovered, to go to Hamely’s, the giant toy store, which was pretty cool. After that, we decided it’d be a good idea to head off, so we started to, getting a Subway on the way. From this point and the majority of the coach journey, we actually got pretty deep! We were debating cosmetic surgery, size zero, and the effects this has on young girls (and boys), then we started talking about children, and what we’d do if we won the lottery. Then Keya and I, whilst waiting to be picked up, started talking in French accents to each other.
All in all, it was a really good couple of days, and despite the lack of sleep, epic trekking, and whatnot, if I was asked whether I’d want to do it again, I’d say hell yeah! So, thank you guys for making it an amazing trip.

I *heart* Lady Gay Gay

At 1:10 on Friday morning, I left. Not to return again until 10:30 on Saturday evening. Why? Because I was going to see Lady GaGa with Keya and David. How was it? Amazing.
So, as I said, I left my house at ten past one in the morning, as Tina, Keya’s sister was taking us both to the 24 hour ASDA where we met David. Armed with a video camera to document the trip and various other items, we set off, blasting Lady GaGa out from the CD player in the car. After meeting with David, and spending over an hour in ASDA buying £40 worth of food and drinks for the journey and searching for glitter for Keya, we went to get our coach which left at 3 AM. After boarding the coach, we all fell asleep within half an hour.
At 6 o’clock we arrived at London Victoria. We navigated our way to the o2 arena, and arrived there to see about 10-15 people there already waiting. It was only 7 in the morning, and doors didn’t actually open for another twelve hours! We then found out that the actual arena didn’t open until 10, so we waited, cold, tired and bored for three hours outside, and attempted to keep our spirits up by playing with our Kinder Egg toys.
Finally, we were let in the arena, and by that time there were about 30 people there. As we waited by the doors, we started talking to a woman who had been waiting there with her daughter since 4 AM!! The security guards finally let us in and there was a mad dash to get to the appropriate bay. Everyone wanted to be first! David and I dawdled, watching and laughing at everyone running past us, as we let Keya sprint ahead, to secure our spaces. When we got their, the woman who worked there told us that, as we were the first 100 people, we got to have priority spaces, which meant we got let in before everyone else (bar the people who paid hundreds of pounds for a ticket just to line the front barrier!) so we could get better spaces! By this time, it was around about 10 o’clock. We still had to wait another 8 hours before there’d be any sign of even getting in. We then got told that we might be getting wristbands which would secure our places in the priority queue meaning we could go off, book into the hotel, grab some food, and other stuff that didn’t involve sitting on a cold, hard floor. We never got these wristbands.
Throughout the day, we took it in turns to get Starbucks, pizza and go to the toilet. David and I also invented a game called ‘Where’s the Straight Guy?’ in which we had to point out the heterosexual males in the queue. We found 2 or 3, and they were with their girlfriends. Whilst we were waiting there, we met two lovely girls called Katie and Pixie. Then, at around 11:30, David and I went off to book into the hotel, taking everything we wouldn’t need with us. We then arrived back, only an hour later… We still had so much time to kill!
Eventually, the woman came round offering out wristbands to the ‘first 100’. Unfortunately, throughout the day this bastard group of people at the front had been letting their friends in. This, obviously, angered a lot of people who had been waiting there since the beginning, especially Keya, and as a group of 3 people walked in front of us, he kicked off. Now, what you have to understand is Keya kicking off isn’t like any normal person. He will belittle, bully and verbally abuse them with the first thing he can see physically wrong with them. He’s like an extremely bitchy girl! So, as these three people walked in front of us, Keya stood up and shouted ‘They pushed in!’ and he kept shouting that they had pushed in, with other people around us agreeing. He also claimed, very, very loudly, that because the guy was large he was ‘basically eating his Coke bottle’. The wrist bands were not revoked from them.
After the bands were issued, we were permitted to go off to wherever, but had to be back at 5:30. The three people who we accused of pushing in came up to us, and we actually found out that they were there even before us, it’s just; they had got changed during the day so we didn’t recognise them. We chatted to them, and everyone was fine about it and friendly (actually, the Asian guy next to me was getting a little too friendly, if you know what I’m sayin’! Damn my ‘easily mistake for a boy’ style!).
At 5:30, everyone was eager to go in, as we all presumed that’d be the time we would enter. Unfortunately, after already waiting for 10 and a half hours, we had to wait another hour for some unknown reason! Then, at 6:30, they were finally ready to search our bags, and let us in. Giddy from excitement, we all anxiously waited for them to let us in, as Keya worried about how he would hide his bottle of vodka from the bag searchers. Passing through the bag searchers, and power walking ahead of everyone else, I was thrilled to finally reach… Another fucking queue. This time, it was in a nice, freezing cold, dull corridor.
After literally half an hour of waiting there, bored, cold and constantly checking to see whether or not we were moving, we finally were let in. Keya, David and I ran to get to be the third row back from the front, on the left hand side of the stage! The arena filled up and the vast amounts of seating and floor space were all crowded up due to the concert being sold out!
Finally, after literally 14 hours of being in London, Semi Precious Weapons came on. They were a rock pop band, and I must admit their tunes were catchy. The front man was very ‘GaGa’, and he wore fishnet tights, with a strip to cover his crotch area, and was constantly showing his nipples. He controlled the crowd really well; especially considering his band was only the support band. At one point, he basically climbed onto the crowd, used someone’s willing arm as a support and almost dripped sweat all over us! Saying that, he did say that ‘this is rock and roll’, to which David and I both looked at each other, and said ‘Like fuck it is!’. His band mates, however, were complete tools. What they were wearing and the way they acted was like a young teens attempt at being a heavy metal band. It was cringe worthy. Oh, and the drummer kept spitting, which was kinda gross.
Then, on came Alphabeat, who were really good. I’ve never really been into Alphabeat, but they put on a really good performance. The lead woman was wearing high waist shorts, so David and I kept looking out to see if she had a camel toe so we could take a picture.
The curtains went down, and we then knew the next artist performing would be Lady GaGa. For some reason, she took ages actually coming on, and apparently we were also at a Michael Jackson tribute concert…? Literally, throughout the whole of the interval between Alphabeat and Lady GaGa, they played just Michael Jackson! I don’t even like Michael Jackson!!
Then, curtains up, and GaGa appeared on stage. Now, I couldn’t possibly write down everything that she did, but what I will say is that the choreography was incredible, the stage, the props, were amazing, the electric violinist, backup singers and other musicians were astounding and Lady GaGa herself was in a whole different league. I actually had to stop singing halfway through because my throat hurt so bad! The stage had a runway coming out of it, and the entire show was based on a Wizard of Oz like story. Keya was screaming the lyrics and singing all her songs, in the way she sings her songs live and shouting ‘Oh my God!’ at every possible moment. There were blow up trees, really attractive women, a giant fish monster, screen projections and so, so much more!
After she finished her performance, we left to get back to the hotel. David’s entire body hurt. Keya was on a massive high. And I just wanted to curl up in bed. We got back to the hotel, watched some TV, chatted a bit, ate some food, and then went to sleep, so we could be ready for spending 7 hours in London the next day.