Monday, 17 August 2015

The Problem With Guys

Hi there, Schneckens!
I'm back from my week holiday and the reason I went away for the week was because it was results week and that brings back very raw feelings for me. I felt incredibly low as my life became dominated with University and exam stuff and it reminded me of last year when I had planned to kill myself. I tried blogging about it, but I don't want the blog to be too dark!

But here I am and I have Bitch Better Have My Money playing because that seems appropriate for a Monday I guess. One thing that Rihanna's music reminds me of is men. Guys, you do a lot of shit that annoys the shittles out of me and other women. Granted, we also do shit, but stop trying to paint us as some hormonal wrecks who do things that don't make sense to you. Firstly, yes, our periods make us a bit on edge. You would too if you had blood gushing out of your penis for a consecutive amount of days and you've been forced to wear the most hideous underwear you have because now is not to the time to wear that sexy lace stuff, even though all you want to do is feel sexy and man you are more ravenous than humanly possible! So stop asking us 'if we're on [our] period' when we snap at you because we might just be and we don't really want to deal with this right now. Also, trying to say that you can't do anything right because we'll be annoyed anyway is absolute bullshit. Not texting us back or sending one words will obviously piss us off. We want you to tell us we look good. We get annoyed, not because you're not some figure of a perfect man, but because you're not imaging if you were in our position.

That's another thing - you guys can say the most insensitive things to us. Whether it be commenting on how crazy I am being or telling me to just go outside if I am feeling lonely, you know how to make me feel like shit. That also goes for discussing other girls to us. Guys, I speak for myself and other women, we're not too keen on you mentioning how attractive other women are to us. We're not. Sometimes, yes, but most of the time nope. Unless I have reached a stage where I can openly urinate on the phone or with the door open with you or let out some sort of wind in your company, I don't want to hear that you think that girl is attractive. I don't care if it's some politician or girl I don't even know, I don't want you to tell me she is 'like damn' because chances are I might sorta like you and this is a massive blow to me. Hey, I might not even like you in that way and it just sucks that you can't even tell me something nice about me, despite the fact we're meant to be friends. For goodness sake, like my fucking pictures already.

Oh god, pictures. Listen, when we put a picture up on Facebook or Instagram looking sexy as fuck, we want YOU to like it. If you're going to like every other ho's picture, why not mine? I've resulted in endless amounts of classy topless pictures to get that one guy to like it because he's liked ALL my friends' pictures but not mine. Not one and it sucks. If we've had some sort of sexual thing or romantic thing go on between us, I expect you to like that picture because I'm plastering on all this makeup at 1am because I know you will see these pictures. Also, respond to our SnapChats. That's just basic manners. Oh and texts us back, especially after sex. My vagina and heart don't work as a team, you bang one, the other one doesn't care. Texting won't make me fall in love with you.

There's a good chance I just blatantly ranted about a guy... Fuck.

Toodles :)

Sunday, 9 August 2015

Period Horror Stories: Part I

Hello, Schneckens!
Apologies for my absence yesterday, but as you can probably work out from the title, my uterus was slowly trying to kill itself and I was in too much pain to even get up and make a sandwich in less than 30 mins. That's pretty bad.. And even when the pain decreased, I ended up watching Saturday Night Fever with the folks and the film had no plot whatsoever; it was just dancing and music. Overall, it was shittles.

So today you'll get a double whammy post about periods because that seems fitting! So anyone squeamish or not able to experience the pain of a uterus shredding itself just because I wouldn't put a baby in it. You know what, uterus? If you're going to act like this every month, don't expect me to put a baby in you any time sooner. Nah, and remember folks: Don't Fuck The Portuguese Guy!

My First Period:

Every girl pretty much remembers their first period like they remember their first kiss; their first time having sex or their first time waxing their hooha and clearly not knowing that they were doing because it hurt like hell. The last one was really specific... But it is true, we remember. Therefore, here is the story of mine because it is hilarious or the equivalent to that I guess.

It was in May and I was only one month of being 13, so my body was going through changes. I had breasts developing; guys' junk was something I was very interested in discussing and I was very much aware that there are really attractive guys in the world. Basically, 13 year old is current day me, but now I am able to get close and intimate with their junk and I have a membership on LoveHoney and Bondara and I have a vibrator, obvs.

Anyway, back to being 13. It was a Friday and whilst I was peeing, I felt something odd as I wiped myself with the tissue. So obviously I checked it and it was small amounts of blood. That's when I went into instant denial mode and flushed the toilet paper away and pretended it never happened and I was not in fact bleeding from my vagina (back then I couldn't say 'vagina' without my whole body shuddering..) There wasn't a lot of blood anyway, so I was able to keep it a secret for that night. Then Saturday came... It was around my Mother's birthday and as a family we decided to go to a Jack The Ripper walk tour. Nothing says 'happy birthday!' than a gory trip about a serial killer who enjoyed ripping out lady parts! Totally fitting to what was to happen. So as we were on the tube going to Whitechapel, I could feel the blood. It was no longer little drops, I could feel it. But I didn't want anyone to know because I was embarrassed about this perfectly natural thing that I was experiencing. I continued ignoring it, whether we were in the coffee shop and I just sat in agonising silence or when we were on the streets learning about Jack The Ripper. Regardless, it was a really enjoyable trip, I mean the woman may have thought I was younger than how old I actually was because she wouldn't show me any of the really graphic pictures, but it was really interesting. Even the drunk man at the station who kept throwing bottles all over the place. Weird night.

But what about my period? Well we got home and I had to tell Mother now, so I called her and told her to come into the bathroom. She eventually did and she was really proud of how her daughter had started this "wonderful" moment and declared it to everyone in the house and nans. She then showed me how to use a pad and all that jazz and the next day the period stopped, so I was free to act innocent again. But I never did, I told my friends because I was one of the first to start and I continued to fantasise about guys, but in a tame sorta way. And then I eventually adjusted to this new thing in my life.

So in conclusion, what did/do I have in common with Jack The Ripper's victims? Both our downstairs areas looked like a murder scene...

Toodles :)

Friday, 7 August 2015

Saucy Friday: Bad Boys

Schneckens, stop right here and watch this clip, then return and hold me as I weep happy tears: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f5KyMNDJE6o

Oh goodness, so Emmerdale's Summer Fate has reached its dramatic end and what a sad way to end it with someone being giving the hardest news they will ever have to take. Admit it, you wept a little bit too because I know I did, but that's probably because my uterus is preparing to shred it's home because no one is occupying it at the moment and it's like it's a landlord getting pissed at me for not paying rent or something. Well sorry uterus for not wanting babies right now, be grateful!

Today I rang a person that I promised I wouldn't talk to again - okay that's a lie. I didn't promise I wouldn't talk to him, I just suggested that it would be better for me if I decided not to communicate with him so much. Well, whilst in the bath, I remembered a vital piece of information about him and it threw me, so obviously I had to phone him or I would spend a lifetime thinking I had been lied to by someone I opened up with in numerous different ways. During this phone call, he revealed something to me that unleashed the feels because I suddenly had a moment of realisation about why he comes across as a massive bellend. I've never used that word again and I just wanted to see what it was like. Felt weird, so I'm going to stick to twat.

This made me contemplate what really is a bad boy. Well apparently, according to Google:
"a man who does not conform to approved standards of behaviour, especially in a particular sphere of activity."
They're not really bad, they're like me and you,
completely misunderstood
I went through what I thought was a bad boy phase last year. You know, good guy giraffe hurt me and if the alleged good guy was a total prick and ultimately hurt me a lot, then maybe a bad boy was what I needed. I mean, it would make sense - I already knew he would hurt me and therefore I wouldn't really be hurt because I totally saw it coming. One year younger me didn't really think things through well. A part of me also just really wanted Pixie's D if I'm totally honest with you because he was hot as fuck and I wanted to get down and dirty with that perv. But yes, back on track, Pixie was everything I considered a bad boy because:

1. He was a sleaze and douche and a player around women.
2. He would constantly talk about sex and having sex with me.
3. He wanted me sexually and didn't hide it.
4. He hit on anyone with a pulse.
5. He sat in the isolated areas of places.
6. He never spoke about what he was feeling.
7. He failed the year.
8. He just seemed like a massive dick tbh.

With all that, he was my bad boy and I was completely attracted to him. Talking to him made me feel a fire in myself and I had never felt that before. Talking to him, getting sexual and getting pulled into his world felt so bad, but it felt so fucking good and I didn't want it to stop. He may have hurt me on numerous occasions, but I kept going back and why - because he was my bad boy.

Until he did an Aden. "A what?" I hear you cry. Well, this is what I define as an Aden. Home and Away fans will remember this fine piece of meat:



When he arrived in the Bay, he was a grade A cunt, constantly offending people and causing drama and pretty much wrecking lives. He was the top bad boy of the bay ... Until he had a traumatic incident and it later was revealed he was abused by his grandfather and he opened up to his love Belle and she brought out his good side, so he became a fine figure of a man that you would be proud to call your anything:



Therefore, unless the man you are attracted to is a top end killer, he isn't a bad boy, he's just really misunderstood and you haven't really got to know him that much because you've already assumed he's like this. I may have got closer to Pixie and dropped the whole 'bad boy' schtick months ago after we established a strong friendship, but for a good chunk of last year, he was my bad boy. He's not, he's actually nice. Yeah, he can do dickish things that make me cry, but so does a lot of people sometimes. Oh and whilst I'm here, if a guy is a top end killer, that isn't a bad boy, that's just a murderer and they're two separate things!

Toodles :)

Thursday, 6 August 2015

Throwback Thursday: The Diva Diaries

Why hello there, Schneckens!
I feel like I should continue this post by discussing what was perhaps the grimmest episode of Emmerdale I have ever seen and how I am heartbroken that my favourite character has crocked it. Sad times, it was a double death saga in tonight's episode and one of them involved a head being sliced off. Grim doesn't even cover it.

Anyway, I am listening to a band called X Ambassadors and I was introduced to them by the same guy who introduced me to Hollywood Undead. Fuck this guy knows good music. So listening to this guys have got me all reflective and reminiscing about life's adventures. Like here's a thought - this is the first August in yeeeeeears where I am not shitting myself about exam results! What?! That is crazy! So I figured instead of doing a piss poor 'How To', I would just do a throwback that I never covered probably because I was too depressed to actually do it the first time round, so here we go back to March and how me, my Asian mom and Sister became Disney Princesses!

#ThrowbackThursday:

Professional shots - Basically 3 outfit changes, where the three of us decided we would go for fancy, casual and Frozen theme. We had our hair and makeup done professionally and I opted for elegant makeup and wavy hair. If anyone is at all interested in where I got my outfits, they range from New Look to Primark, so all very affordable. The breasts are real in case anyone stumbling on this is blown away by how perky they look and trust me, I was as well! Our photographer was lovely and totally didn't mind that I embraced the whole diva attitude - I am sure he is used to it! I mean, someone had to and it might as well be the Drama queen!


 


 


Photos From The Day - From our start at Victoria to McDonald's, we pretty much did it all. I also got ID'd in McDonald's for a McFlurry.. Okaaaaaay then. There was also a point where it looked like I was experiencing a mini breakdown, but I assure you, I was just hyped on the wonders of life. And some sweets that were as hard as lego. Hideous.



 

 

 

 



 

 
 















Toodles :)

Wednesday, 5 August 2015

The Great British Bake Off Returns!

Whoa, Schneckens.
Firstly, Emmerdale. No spoilers, but who either cried or felt like crying? My stomach was churning throughout because I could not handle that tension. One thing I've noticed though is that nobody has mentioned the pilot... Rarely certain that pilot is dead. I'll mention you, pilot! RIP.

CONTAINS SPOILERS:

Baked goods: the nation's favourite marquee is back
Back with a bang?
Source 
Now onto the big buns, THE GREAT BRITISH BAKE OFF. *explodes* I have been so excited about its return since, well, the last series ended! Who would have thought a show about amateur bakers could manifest the British public's lives so much?! Is it the innuendos - who can resist a good ol' soggy bottom? Is it Paul's piercing blue eyes and crisp white hair? Is it Mary's gaze? Or is it Mel and Sue just adding comic relief to what is a strangely tense show?!

They say 'there's no use crying over spilled milk', but I'm guessing that doesn't apply to cake! This week was all about cakes and there were tears all round. First the contestants were asked to make a simple Madeira cake. You know, the cake with that crack on the top (totally intentional, folks!) Well, you'd think it would be simple, but as contestants showed, it wasn't that simple. Stu, a musician in a hat that looked a lot like hipster, totally got his flavours wrong and his lime and chocolate pairing utterly bombed and Ian, a posh sorta hottie, made something that tasted like wallpaper. But not all of them screwed up, Tamal, who I'm guessing knows how to handle a prick or two (he works with needles, btw) shocked the world as he used rose water and it tasted amazing apparently. Plus, Marie, an adorable traditional cook, won praise with her perfect Madeira. See, it can be done! Eventually.

The Beauty and Beast - but who is who?!
Source 
Then we had the technical and what a fucked up looking technical. It was Mary's walnut cake, but the icing she used looked like cement or some form of kitchen DIY decorations to keep tiles up. It actually hurt my teeth and diabetes just looking at it. Nonetheless, I'm sure people wouldn't be nuts to not follow her recipe, right? Nope, STU DON'T TAMPER WITH THE RECIPE!! Life lesson, folks, whatever Mary Berry says, you do it!! So it's no surprise he bombed again and ended up second from last. Last was actually Nadiya, someone from Luton, who didn't put the icing on the sides of her cake, so it looked a bit like that bowl haircut. It also tasted pretty poop as well. Number one, however, was an Eastern European treat and bodybuilder, Ugne. She's got skills and was a top nut compared to the rest!

Finally was the showstopper and it was the blast from the past, 80's classic - a black forest gateau! OMYGAWD I THINK I ORGASMED THROUGHOUT. NO WAIT, FOODGASMED. Flora, our youngest contestant this year, made perhaps the biggest gateau I have ever seen, but it was so symmetrical that I think every perfectionist in the world would climax just looking at it, let alone tasting it. But it was Dorret, our little traditional spice, who fell apart and cried over spilled mi - I mean, cake. Hoping to incorporate a mousse into her cake utterly failed when it didn't set and as a result we were left with, what Paul described as, a "mudpie." Will Sue please hug her now? But despite this, Stu still managed to fuck up and decided 'you know what would taste great with a black forest gateau? An Italian meringue!' WHAT IS THIS?! NO. NO, NO, NO. Meringues and gateaux of the black forest kind do not mix well dammit!

Will Dorret bounce back?
Source
So evidently, it was a tense show and already we have tears! But who was Star Baker. Well it had to go to the perfect Marie, who's Madeira was the best of them all. And of course Stu was eliminated, but he never once took off that hat, despite how hot that tent can get, so he did handle the heat pretty well.

Next week, biscuits. Eeeeeeeeeeeeek!

Toodles :)

Tuesday, 4 August 2015

Types of People You Find In McDonald's

EMMERDALE, SCHNECKENS, EMMERDALE!!
Did you watch it? If not, I won't spoil it for you, but this pretty much my reactions throughout:

 

It was tense that episode, I would highly recommend it this week!

Anyway, gif overload, so let's get down to biz. I keep going to McDonald's with my friends because that's how cool I am, so what type of people have I come across whilst eating my happy meal?

Types of People You Find In McDonald's:

The Family Bundle ~ Kids and McDonald's go together like ham and cheese; cheese and crackers and vodka and coke. Whether they're screaming the place down, getting all up in your grill or just making a huge arse mess, they are there and haunting your existence.

The School Student ~ After school, so 3:30pm, is when McDonald's feels a bigger surge than my romantic interest when he gets my nudes... When you've had a shit day, five lessons and you've got money your parents gave you, of course you're going to spend it on processed shit. Good on you, kids, you know that you're doing!

The Sixth Formers/College Students ~ Instead of feeling a massive surge and rise in profits in an after school special, these lot can actually leave the school premises whenever the fuck they want, so mostly lunch. Beats sitting in the common room with a bunch of twats you don't particularly like I guess.

The University Slob ~ They need shit and coffee before that 9am lecture and straight afterwards. Especially on a Monday, when chances are, you're more hungover than your single friend at a their best friend's wedding - heads up, guys, I will be hammered at your weddings!

The Voucher Vultures ~ They walk into their local McDonald's and look like they're going to flash the cash around, but really they've got a voucher, cut out from the paper, and it's going to expire soon. Doesn't include a drink, which is always a piss take.

The Table For One ~ Eating on your own in McDonald's is actually socially acceptable. Who wants to wine and dine when they're trying to stuff a Big Mac into their mouths.

The Hopeless Romantics ~ On a date. It was one step above a cheeky Nando's I guess. At least you don't have to get your own cutlery because you don't need that shit here!

The Bros ~ I don't know why, but when guy friends go to McDonald's together, they seem to purchase so much food that is completely unnecessary. They get so much food that you would think it was some eating competition. Men, settle your egos in a cheaper, less greasy way. Like arm wrestling or monopoly!

The Gossip Queens ~ Shit goes down, so obviously you discuss it in a place where any of those people can walk in whilst you enjoy a Crunchie McFlurry. Obvs. Gossip includes, but not limited to, the guy you like; drunk dialed; diddled; who diddled who; vagina woes.

Aaaaand finally, The Pee Machine ~ They had no intentions in purchasing any food, they just needed to take a pee or a dump real bad and those bathrooms are cleaned regularly than other places.

So that's it, clearly I am focusing too much on people in that place and should probably stop. But sometimes it's fun to people watch whilst gorging on nuggets!

Toodles :)