Thursday, 14 May 2015

The Bogie man.

I need Vodka.
It's been a hard day in the life of me, was going swimmingly well till about 1.00. I was prancing about happily with my lovely students, cracking jokes, singing songs, generally acting like a twat - as per. When my student somehow completely by accident try's to walk past me, in doing so he trips me up but I don't just fall quickly and once and get it over and done with like a normal person oooooh no! I (in slow motion) swim around in the air for a while, arms flailing, first teetering backwards into said student. Trying to avoid collapsing on top of the poor boy I pushed forward and in doing so putting so much pressure on my ankle (yes because I'm THAT heavy) that it gave way releasing my body in what can only be described as a splat to the floor...face down. Brilliant. As everyone howled with laughter I gave a little cry and declared my ankle as 'broken' because if you are going to fall, one should always do it with conviction. With a dramatic flare and complete commitment to the role. Of course my students all know me well enough to know my ankle was not broken, and they are performing arts students and so, of course they would have done the same. 
My next debacle was seeing a guy picking his nose...and I mean digging for treasure! He wasn't just having a little twitch, you know when you can feel a bat in the cave so you discreetly try and brush it away? Ho no! He might as well have had his whole hand up there, I unceremoniously nick named him 'Kanye West' (although 'shovel fingers' and 'the bogie man' were also good contenders) so as any good social media user would, I filmed him...he was so deep into his world of snot,bogies, buried treasure and (probably) brains, he didn't notice me. That is until I thought he had left and was loudly announcing it to my friend, who - bless her- thought it was her! I kept on reassuring her saying 'no no it's not you, it was that guy!' Till I noticed her eyes getting really big and she kept pointing behind me, at that moment all my students are falling about, laughing their heads off and then came the pantomime whisper 'He's behind you!' Oh yes he was! As I peeled my eyeballs off of my friends face and collected my lower jaw from the table top I cringed so hard, I swear my eyelashes stuck together. I felt so bad for the poor kid but it all turned out ok because he hasn't noticed. Of course not, because he was back again digging his fist up his right nose! *shudders*

On the way home a car splashed me. I saw it happen before it happened you know? I saw a car go through the puddle and splash and I thought to myself...that's NOT happening to me. So I sped up to get past the ginormous puddle but seemingly as I sped up, so did the next car!!! I also would swear on a bible that I saw the car swerve into the puddle to create maximum damage. Bastards. I couldn't if I had possibly tried at all to be more of a lower class, fatter, embarrassing, Essex, Bridget Jones. It was like my body slowed in horror. The drivers eyes seemed to gleam at me as I was doused in cold, dirty and polluted water.

Things happen in threes right? That's my lot for a while yeah? oh no...I went home and made a pizza, I added chips and baked beans on top. (Don't judge me) a carb cuddle - from the inside...I was then viciously attacked by a frozen tub of ORGANIC double cream!! I was actually attacked by 'The cure' there are no more words.

Ever doomed, ever humiliated

Kitty Lo

Wednesday, 13 May 2015

Pneumonia is the posh cold.

Hey invisible audience,

Have overwhelming feeling of embarrassment that no one has read this yet, or is it just another bout of rejection?! Yes I have been rejected again by yet another male suitor, (why do they call them that when the ones I go for are so NOT suitable?!) this one a young Irish Philly from Cork...I told my mum he was a plumber so she would like him! I kept feeding her his witty anecdotes like for instance when I told him I had recently recovered from Pneumonia and he said 'Ah the posh cold' ....literally there were hearts in my eyes...AND my mothers...was going so well until she started asking me if he could perhaps pop round and 'do the pipes...' So I told him he should probably learn some Plumbing he replied 'Why the feck would you tell her I'm a plumber, I was a bricklayer for 5 years!' Ah yes....not my greatest lie...he agreed to keep my secret and be the best plumber he could be. But after a few double Gins with my mum she was asking why he lived here and not Ireland...- at this point she's all loved up and feeling like I am not the spinster of the family, devoid of children or even a cute dog and with a possible addiction to cake and Prosecco (inherited from her I might add!)

'Erm mum, there's something I need to tell you....' She pauses, glares into my soul...'um he...he...isn't a plumber'

As my mothers usually sweet and warm eyes start to glaze over (I did wonder if it's the Gin) her nostrils flare and her mouth slowly gets smaller and smaller till it forms a tiny angry star shape....'He's a soldier'

*hangs head to avert from medusa-esk glare*

There is a red glow creeping over the table and I swear it's warmed up a few degrees...

'Don't lie to me, girl' she growls - I swear she's channeling every Eastenders baddy that has ever been! Her top lip is literally disappearing before my eyes!

'I've told about 8 people you're going to marry an Irish Plumber! We all said ahhhhh' she seethed.

' And this is why I lied mother! I don't want to see that cats bum hole mouth, that judgemental look and put your lip back down, you look like Anna Kendrick attempting a high note'

After some coaxing she chills out, relaxes, promptly starts taking a sip of her (double) G&T and as I say 'we just won't tell him you know, and you can ask him loads of Plumbing questions' she snorts with laughter and spits it across the table into my face. We are basically over it, except from now any sweet anecdote I tell her is met with comments like - 'he's clearly a psycho or he's a sadomasochist!'

Anyway I digress, basically it's all over because of stupid fuckwit social networks. But that's another story because my little finger is aching so much from holding the weight of my phone, my ridiculous phone case and my ridiculous life!

In other news one of the teachers I work with asked a student what the problem was and this was his response:

'What do you mean what's the problem, I'm fucking ginger where do you want me to start?!'

And that. Is. Verbatim.

What a fucking legend. I couldn't hide my laughter, let's be honest the kid needed to hear it! Made my day!

Kitty Lo

Monday, 11 May 2015

Hello? Is it me you're looking for?

Hello? Is it me you're looking for? Probably not but still lets just pretend shall we...

I feel like I should explain why I'm doing this, but it's weird as technically I'm talking to no one? I think? Anyway I feel like I have a sixth sense so I'm used to communicating with things that aren't my imaginary boyfriend....and all the millions Of fans I have....anyway recently people have been nagging me to start a blog, I think mainly to shut me the fuck up on social media but also because I write very long statuses and it mainly bores people, then my brother just told my you could make money so I thought well if that doesn't motivate me nothing will! (Except anything with salted caramel)
I will begin with my terrible day, these happen often and usually involve some sort of injury and/or embarrassment...always mine. I'm good at listing, it's one of the few talents I have so here we go:
So I walked around with tights like this all day (see picture - if I can work out how to put it on) ..I tripped coming out of the door and stubbed my (MOTHER FUCKING) toe, I got home and started peeling potatoes and not only did I peel into one of my finger nails, I peeled into my fingers...twice. Thus lacerating them and created what I like to call the blood potato. Which I washed and tossed back into the pan - classy. Can you die from that? Is that canablism? Does it count as canablism if you eat yourself? Is that what I am now?

Yours everlastingly single and embarrassing fuckwit, doomed for life.

Kitty Lo