Category Archives: Friends

I’m just gunna say it how it is


This will be a post that not many will agree on. They may be just as many, hopefully more that will agree with me on. Let’s hope you are enlightened people. I hope you are. If not, well that’s sad. I want to tell you to kinda of fuck off then… but I won’t, because I believe that you have a right to have an opinion… but people with the wrong opinions, well I don’t like you. I really don’t like you.

Abortion is a right. A fucking right. Your right to picket abortion clinics? No. Shut the fuck up. Write an angry letter to your political official. Start an angry blog. Hey, write your own suicide note in your own blood telling the world how you feel these women are murdering babies. Go on. Do that. In your own home. But don’t make a hard decision harder. You can’t understand until you’ve been in that situation… you can emphasise of course. No one wants to be in a situation like that, but sometimes you make a mistake, something goes wrong. But hell, I don’t want to bring a child into a world where I can’t buy clothes for it. Can’t afford to feed it. I want that child to have everything I didn’t have and more. Your child is the embodiment of the love you have for someone else, or maybe is this being you created out of pure love. That’s a child. You want its happiness. How is bringing a child into a world where all it will know is sadness, poverty and discomfort? I don’t want that. I don’t even want that for my enemies. Do I want children? Sure. I’m an only child. I grew up alone. I like being alone, but I wished as a child for someone to play with. I wish I had a big brother to protect me when I fuck up. I want someone to be there when my parents die, and hold my hand because they understand. But I’m alone. So that’s probably why I act strong. Some say bitchy and outspoken… maybe. But I also know deep down, that I came into this world alone… and I will die alone, so I pick myself up when everything seems to fuck up around me. I want a child, because one day, maybe I’ll be so in love with someone, that I want to create something with that person… a little someone that will one day find a love of their own. Because I know that when I find that someone, and I’ll look into their eyes, they will want the same thing from me. But it will be a choice. Because a child is sort of having a tattoo on your face… you have to be bloody sure you want it. There’s sort of no “backsies”. And that’s why abortion is important. The right to decide when you create this being, and with who. Sometimes you make a child, and you fall out of love… that happens. But that child was created, hopefully at a time of love… sure there are exceptions… there are those people who don’t care. They make babies coz they don’t know what else to do. Maybe it’s expected of them. Who knows. But the right to say no, as a woman is my choice. Sex is fun. No, with the right person, the right chemistry. It’s flipping amazing… but I don’t want to live in fear that every time I am with a guy a baby might be created. Use a condom… go on the pill… whatever works for you. But sometimes mistakes happen. It brakes. You forgot. You may be raped. Who wants to bring up a rapists baby? Have a constant reminder of a horrible moment in your existence? Who wants a father who is an unknown rapist? No one. No one can live with that.

Bringing a child into a world or an environment that is not ready, is not “saving a child”… it’s actually selfish… because you have brought a human being into a world that it won’t thrive or grow in. If you have every read any of Darwin’s books, you will be familiar with his world changing theory of evolution (which isn’t just a theory, it’s fucking reality “SAY NO TO CREATIONISTS YOU MORONS”… and yes I’m looking at you America!)… which means you know all about natural selection. Natural selection is technically no longer applicable to humans, owing to advances in medicine, but it still works on a social and anthropological level. Why do people who start life in richer families generally succeed better? (there are obviously exceptions, I mean look at Albert Camus for starters, but there are many… but rarer). With money, sadly comes opportunities. With opportunities, comes better schools, education, travelling… etc. it opens the child to a better job… a broader mind… better access to food and healthcare etc. This isn’t always true, but it is undeniable that it is a major factor. But it helps. So, if I take myself as an example. I’m a 25 year old student. I finish my studies in about a year and a half. I don’t have a job. I have a small flat. I can barely look after myself… let along a tiny human being. When I want a child, I want to be able to buy it nappies. Food. Whatever. I want it to go to a good school. Get a great job. Meet someone that makes them laugh and smile. I want them to be happy. Can I make a child happy now? Nope. So yes, if I get pregnant now. I’m having an abortion. Yes it hurts. Yes I don’t want to have to make that decision, but if I have to I will… because abortion isn’t murder. Abortion is about making the right choice at the right moment. Bring a child into a world that it can thrive in. Because unlike animals, the weak ones don’t just die… they poison your whole life. It’s sort of like being born with a thorn in your foot. You can still walk, but it fucking hurts. Being born to someone who can’t give a child all it needs, is the same. It won’t always thrive, it will eventually sort of go gangrenous and won’t be the best it could be. It takes someone who is born into hardship to say fuck you and pick themselves up. Look at the people who are born with too much money, or too much love and fuck up because they don’t have the fear to pick themselves up and sort themselves up. Life is about balance. It’s about trying your best to be the best you can, not just for you, but for the people you love and respect.

 

So, make the right choices… because that’s sort of what life is about. But it’s your life. So you make the choices that are the best for you. Don’t attach a rock to foot and jump into the deep end. Jump into the water with armbands on. It’s better to float than sink.

I dedicate this post to CB. Who always talks to me straight. No bullshit. And who always makes the best choices, even when I can’t, they aways give me the benefit of the doubt, and doesn’t judge me when I do go down the wrong road. Thanks.

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Filed under Choice, Culture, Family, Friends, Happiness, Hate!, Hello?, Love, Politics, Risk, Sadness, Sex, Shut The Fuck Up, Society, Sorry, The future, USA

Punishment


I don’t believe in god, I’m more agnostic than anything at all. But I swear, someone somewhere is punishing me. The bells! The fucking church bells today are going crazy!

I stayed in last night. I ordered a pizza and a can of coke and thats it. I watched a documentary about an american serial killer and then a girlie movie (Eat, Pray, Love). You may be wondering that the serial killer documentary + girlie movie + pizza = weird combo, but I feel that for balance, you need to not subscribe to social and gender roles. So yes. I’m a girl. I like to wear make-up, put on pretty dresses and watch crappy movies about “finding love” and shit, but then I also like to dress in my trampy clothes, sit on a smelly rock and listen to people jamming around a fire, while holding a burning marshmallow. I also really enjoy doing boy things, like playing computer games and drinking (“sans” farts, that’s going too far for me, so is burping. It’s never funny). Except I’m really shit at all the new computer games. I really miss the ones on the SEGA or Dreamcast. I mean, you didn’t have to be good to play Street Fighter or Sonic, you just had to press loads of buttons and see what happened. I can’t fecking play the Wii. I can’t get that whole balancing thing. I wobble and fall off something, and I lose. Plus all the new games you have to get off your arse and dance, and punch or swat things. I though the point of computer games (at least when I was young) was to sit on your hungover arse, sipping diet coke and munching on Wotsits (it’s sad, that is something I really want for my birthday. I swear, I love moving to different countries and stuff (Canada hopefully in 2/3 years) but sometimes you miss the taste of things. I don’t even remember the taste of Wotsits. They probably are shit, but I just don’t remember how shit they are!).

Anyway, missions of the month is to redesign my friends band logo, I need to start that properly but I have been busy resigning my CV and redesigning my business cards (they are fucking wicked, I wish I could have created a hologram version, but I don’t have a 3D printer, but I swear, this is kind of a paper version of a hologram, and amazing because I made them, and I’m a great artist).

Ive also started a new Moleskine, I was planning on giving it to someone as a gift, but then I was like, nah who cares. I love my Moleskines. They are like my private little world. I mean, you get to pour out your thoughts into a little leather bound book, and when you look through it, it reminds you of a time and a place. I mean, I have tons of them already, hidden away in boxes. Some full of thoughts, some shopping lists, holiday notes, photos, etc but each one is individual. Private. It’s like a slice of your brain, that you hide away. No one ever gets to read them, because you feel like it’s that private. You may I suppose share it with that one special person. But that’s about it.

I need to get a pet. I kinda want either a small dog or a hairless cat. Everyone thinks hairless cats are horrible, but I think they are so weird and kinda stoic. Anyway, I can’t afford one anyway, coz they cost about one thousand euros, so unless I get one for my birthday (here’s hoping! Praying to god as we speak!) OR someone randomly is giving them away for free (very unlikely)… I have more chance of getting a HAIRY cat (although I prefer Dogs…).

I could always get a stick insect. But I feel as though we would not be able to interact very well together.

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Filed under Alcohol, bla bla bla, Culture, Friends, Goodbye, Happiness, Hello?, History

Artistic innit?


To be honest, I don’t really consider myself an artist… more like some knob who creates stuff no one cares about. I’m posting this one (for once, I never post on public sites my artwork), because it’s not very personal, and mr T is in it (not that he knows this of course). It’s an homage. I wanted him to be part of an art piece without him knowing, so now he is a published author too (except he won’t be paid, although, neither am I, so I think we’re equal… here’s hoping he didn’t copy right that photo… which as a by the by isn’t great quality (note to self tell him, if he ever talks to me again, how to use the adjustments on his camera) but who cares, he is part of it. Cool eh!? Even if you said no I wouldn’t give a rats ass.

Enjoy!

(p.s. The story talks a lot about booze. Just in case you thought I was an alcoholic, I just had the results of a blood test and my alcohol levels are good, and, YESSSSSSSS are low too. So screw you metabolism! I can drink like anyone’s business!)

 Hello Toulouse

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Filed under Alcohol, bla bla bla, Clichés, Comics, Culture, Europe, France, Friends, Games People Play, Happiness, Hello?, You

Lock, Stock and Two Pints Too Many


Okie dokes. Where to start today? Difficult I’ll admit. Well. It’s a beautiful and sunny day here, and it can only put a spring in your step and a smile on your face. But, I shall talk today about something darker… what happens when you drink that golden nectar we all call beer (or for me, cider).

Today will continue from the last two I believe, but I can assure you, will be the last on the subject. Why you may say? Ah ha, I suppose like every good fairy tale, it has an ending! But not surprisingly (well for moi at least) not the ending you would desire. But that ladies and gentleman is not a shock, I mean come on, this is Roxy, everyone best friend! The last to be picked for sport etc! But, hey I’m not sad about that, I suppose you get used to that kinda shite anyway.

So, I’m feeling lazy and tired of all the shit to do with life, so I’ll be brief. Some friends of mine and I decided to do a onesie night and visit a few bars. We had copious amounts of gin at my flat, then headed to town. Now, we were very very hammered, so I feel like this probably explains why I went bat-shit crazy after (which for the people that know me, know I don’t do stuff like this, so yeah. Not my usual self!). We spend about two hours in bar C, and we left because there was live music, and I’m afraid to say we did not enjoy it! We then decided to go to bar MP. Mistake my friends would say, I on the other hand think with hindsight this was the only way, because visibly he didn’t have the balls to tell me, and I don’t want to live in wonder land (what pisses me off, is that I didn’t think he was a shit, I mean sure, I knew the guy had baggage (don’t we all?) but I swear I didn’t think he was this much of a heartless git. You will understand after, but holy fuck, I would have loved to say my own damn face, but anyway…) so I suppose at least I was… sure of his intentions (which to clarify here, is to clearly fuck me, lie and lie again, so super dooper Roxy!).

Anyway, so we all walk in, you could hardly miss us, because… I was dressed as a skeleton, one of my mates was a rabbit and the other one the cookie monster… so yeah. It’s not like we could “blend in”. Everyone in the bar was clapping and stuff, so they thought it was funny. We ordered a few pints and sat down. T’s mates came over and said hello (oh yeah, I forgot to say, dickface, or Mr T, was already there, but I ignored him, because, well he’s a big boy, if he wants to say hello he can, I don’t bite.) We had a few laughs… etc etc… I turn my face, and he is literally eating this girls face. I swear to you, all class went out the window, bit… sad really, I mean… seriously I think we are all old enough to know that PDA is a bit sad. Anyway. So, you are wondering what is going through my mind. Ah ha!!!! Well I was like, holy fuck, the dick. Ok fine. At least he’s made his choice, but didn’t have the balls to tell me. Okie dokes. Fine. I shall just enjoy my night anyway.

This is why I’m not totally sad about the whole thing, is because I have friends who love me and will defend me. One of my greatest friends screams “OI, T YOU FUCKING CUNT” across the bar. God Knows if he heard but hot damn does that make you feel good! This is when it gets funny, funny for me, definitely not for him. Now, I’ll remind you, I have never EVER done this, but as I saw him go to the lavatory, I shout “Oi. Dick head.” He pops his head up, and acts… mmm a mix between, drunk, surprised… and shock? No wait… shy… yeah he really hasn’t got balls… never thought about that. Oh well, (that said I usually go for shy guys but hey, maybe I should change hey?) I then (now I have got his attention) to shout something along the lines of, you piece of shit go fuck yourself. I can’t say I remember anyway. He then shuffles off.

I didn’t realise one of his mates heard and asked my friend C, what was wrong with me, she gave him an abbreviated version. (I found out the next day that he wasn’t aware of anything, so I’m thinking they can’t be THAT close. Oops. He said to C something along the lines of, oh well that’s probably girl A (in other words… well he’s got so many girls begging to date him that he has to class them, plan A, plan B…). Now, for people who know me, I have big issues with myself, my family etc but fuck me if I am going to be made to feel like a worthless pile of crap because a guy thinks I’m not good enough for him. So, even though I would of course want to see him again and all that jazz, for respect for myself etc, I can’t. I just can’t. I just hope he finds happiness. Or at least learns not to treat women like shite (although who knows, he may have made a special exception for me and decided to treat JUST me like shit! Who knows).

The thing is, in all seriousness, I don’t wish him ill. I really hope, he sorts himself out, maybe see a Psychologist or something. He has deep rooted problems, he doesn’t seem happy. Now visibly, I wasn’t the girl to help him, but maybe someone else will… but falling into another relationship… would just be a band aid… you can’t be happy with someone if you can’t be happy with yourself. I can attest to that, because I know how much I hate myself. I know why I hate myself, and yet I get up every day and try to be ok. I put on my mask and smile. The thing is, he likes wallowing in his own mess, that he thinks he’s the only one who feels the way he does. That’s called despair, and all I can say, is that everyone feels like that once in a while. So who knows what adventure lies on the other side, but if you don’t try, you can’t find out. As for me, oh well, it’s a shame, I really like like him, but what doesn’t kill you, makes you stronger (argh, did I just quote Kanye West? Well… it WAS an expression before he made a shitty song) So… I’ll put that down to experience, and hope that one day it’s my turn for a great guy and a super relationship… or whatever! Until then, I shall… paint, draw, drink, laugh and cry! xxx

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Filed under Alcohol, Friends, Games People Play, Goodbye, Hate!, Loser Guys, Men vs. Women, Politics, Risk, Sadness, Shut The Fuck Up, Society, The future

How Dolly Parton was the first Carrie Bradshaw


I know. It’s been a while since I last wrote. But for my defence I’ve been busy (no really). Anyway, lately I’ve been listening to a lot of country music, and yes I realise it is a sort of cliché (broken hearts, star crossed lovers and the whole “unrequited love” bollocks that you will find in most music genres, but you can deny is most prevalent in the country scene)… but I don’t care. It is still better than listening to techno while nursing a migraine.

You can’t listen to Country music without talking about the famous Dolly Parton (now with her own theme park, I kid you not. It’s called (surprise surprise) Dollyville). I started by listening to Islands in the stream, which is really a great song and the lyrics are really quite good (of course, me behind my computer mending a sort of heart/brain problem, it just made me a but jealous but hey, I can’t call Dolly a bitch can I? Nope.

Here’s the lyrics (at the end), and look closely, that guy really loves her, they’re making “love” and everything. Bitch (sorry Dolly). But it really goes to show that she was really putting herself out there, Carrie Bradshaw? Per-lease, Dolly was shouting all over the world in the 80’s how much she loved her man and that she enjoyed sex. Wonderful. And a mere 20 years later, Carrie was sitting with her friends talking about anal and blow-jobs! So passé my dear, come back and talk about making love, that’s the new BJ of the 21st century. You can’t get away with saying “making love” anymore! I say that, and I’ll be neutered on the spot!

So after Islands in the stream, I went to Jolene. If you can believe it, even better. Now personally, I don’t care for the name of Jolene. I’m not american, and to be honest, I don’t know anyone by the name of Jolene in any case. But hey, I didn’t write the song (if it had been me, I’d called it something like… Pauline… works too!). I’ll put the whole lyrics at the end, but listen to this bit (and yes, this is getting more personal, even though I know this PERSON doesn’t read my blog, know of its existence or even read English, but yes I’m talking about you BIACH!)… “Jolene, jolene, jolene, jolene, Im begging of you please don’t take my man”… now I love this line, genius… that said if it was more I wouldn’t say please and I wouldn’t beg either, but hey Dolly’s a far more polite person that myself. She then writes “Please don’t take him just because you can”, and yes I agree, just because you can, don’t. Keep your legs crossed, and sometimes damn it, leave some of the other girls get a guy! This reminds me of a female friend of mine who’s having “boyfriend trouble” (even though in my opinion she is taking everything out of proportion and should wait and see, whatever, I’m happy I’m single (only in the situation though)). She has had… how should I put it, discrepancies in the past (dating guys who were already with girls etc), and I wonder if she is afraid her lover will do the same… the past always comes to bite you in the derrière at some point!) – or is that Karma? Anyway, love that line. She then goes on to say “And I cannot compete with you, jolene”. Now, I am definitely not the most confidant person in the world, but I can’t say she is selling herself short here… that said, I can’t deny that I have felt (and drunkenly said) the same thing. So you go girl, Dolly you’re perfect! At least Dolly’s showing a bit of humility, Jesus, I don’t think I have ever heard Carrie say she has doubts about her physique. She’s always prancing about like some prepubescent girl (I’m not saying I hate Sex and the City, I love it (except the second movie, bad choice… Abu Dhabi… really?)) but seriously she’s far from perfect, she has pretty anorexic arms! And lastly she says “You could have your choice of men, But I could never love again, He’s the only one for me, jolene”. Oh come on, you out there with your hearts of stone, isn’t that just lovely? Now, I don’t know how I feel about a certain someone (so complicated), but I can understand the feeling. No one wants to hear “there are plenty of fish in the sea”, argh. Please. That’s like saying there’s a lot of letters in a can of Alphabetti-Spaghetti. We know. We don’t need whooshing generalities. That said, everyone wants to feel special, and to steal a phrase from old Carrie herself, everyone likes the think that in our life, we have “one great love”. Now, when they come, if they don’t last long, or the passion blows out faster than expected… everyone should have at least one! (and this is where I insert a personal note here, “Ahem. Hello God, person out there, almighty power  (or Powa is your Asian or a teenage girl), Karma, Yahveh,  ‘ilah, Allah, Elohim… whatever, Dude, come on, through me a bone (not a real one please, I’m not a dog), send me something. A guy I can spend a bit of time with, without being fucked about with, playing with my emotions. He doesn’t even have to be the sexiest, or have good taste, look he doesn’t even have to be that intelligent (nothing under 160 IQ ok? Be cool.)… I’m not saying that I’m desperate, or that I’ll take anything… but I’m starting to think it’s me, not guys (even though my parents keep on reassuring me).

That’s it. So ladies (and gentlemen if you are out there and are still reading)… be happy in your own skin, beat the shit out of any boy stealing hag, and believe that you will love again, even after heartbreak (marzipan chocolate helps, i promise).

Islands in the Stream – Dolly Parton 
Baby, when I met you there was peace unknown
I set out to get you with a fine tooth comb
I was soft inside, there was somethin going on
You do something to me that I can’t explain
Hold me closer and I feel no pain
Every beat of my heart
We got somethin goin on
Tender love is blind
It requires a dedication
All this love we feel
Needs no conversation
We ride it together, ah-ah
Makin love with each other, ah-ah

Chorus:

Islands in the stream
That is what we are
No one in-between
How can we be wrong
Sail away with me to another world
And we rely on each other, ah-ah
From one lover to another, ah-ah

I can’t live without you if the love was gone
Everything is nothin if you got no one
And you did walk in tonight
Slowly loosen sight of the real thing

But that wont happen to us and we got no doubt
Too deep in love and we got no way out
And the message is clear
This could be the year for the real thing

No more will you cry
Baby, I will hurt you never
We start and end as one, in love forever
We can ride it together, ah-ah
Makin love with each other, ah-ah

Repeat chorus

Tag:

Sail away
Oh, come sail away with me

Repeat chorus

Fade:

Repeat chorus

– 
Jolene
Jolene, jolene, jolene, jolene 
Im begging of you please don’t take my man 
Jolene, jolene, jolene, jolene 
Please don’t take him just because you can 
Your beauty is beyond compare 
With flaming locks of auburn hair 
With ivory skin and eyes of emerald green 
Your smile is like a breath of spring 
Your voice is soft like summer rain 
And I cannot compete with you, jolene 

He talks about you in his sleep 
There’s nothing I can do to keep 
From crying when he calls your name, jolene 

And I can easily understand 
How you could easily take my man 
But you don’t know what he means to me, jolene 

Jolene, jolene, jolene, jolene 
Im begging of you please don’t take my man 
Jolene, jolene, jolene, jolene 
Please don’t take him just because you can 

You could have your choice of men 
But I could never love again 
Hes the only one for me, jolene 

I had to have this talk with you 
My happiness depends on you 
And whatever you decide to do, jolene 

Jolene, jolene, jolene, jolene 
Im begging of you please don’t take my man 
Jolene, jolene, jolene, jolene 
Please don’t take him even though you can 
Jolene, jolene

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Filed under Clichés, Culture, Friends, Games People Play, Men vs. Women, Music, NEW!, Poems, Sex, Society

It’s no longer the KKK… it’s the FFF (Friends Fucking Friends)


This post, has nothing to do with the KKK… but everything to do with the FFF. If you do not know what the FFF is… I am not surprised… I just invented it… but it is a way of explaining a new social change. You don’t understand? Ok… ok… I’ll explain.

Lately, and when I say lately… I mean in the last few years since sexuality became a “boring occurrence” in our/my everyday life (in other words, since sex isn’t a word that one whispers into your ear like a dirty joke or the name of the school bully). Sex has become, at least for me, something I son’t actually talk about with my friend anymore. I was actually talking about this with a friend last week while I was in London… when we are all just having sex, it was all “omg he did this… and did you know… and it was so big/small…” etc… now… everyone you know, has pretty much already done it and it is no longer a measure of “coolness” (I shudder that this was a big part of whether or not someone was loser or not…ohhhhh childhood!). Anyway, I’m getting sidetracked. I have noticed that people… are either already in long term relationships… or are dating friends of friends.

You find this normal? You don’t understand? Ok… I’ll explain.

I have a very close friend of mine (female) who is one of those girls who you can just let everything just hang out, you know? We are just comfortable together. Anyway, she has an older brother who (and it feels like a million years ago… but it is in fact probably nine years ago) I had a crush on. Although, if I think about it, I think it was probably because he was nice to me, not because I was attracted to him (and anyway, I was fourteen… everyone has a cringe crush when they are that young!). So, we are chatting and she tell me that a friend of mine (female) who I introduced to them about two months ago, went out with her brother (a friend but not close). Now… some will jump to the conclusion that I am jealous… and holy jesus mother of god am I not… I am… surprised (and it always comes back to me, of course). Why?

Well… I am actually surprised because this always happens to me. I can hear you screaming through  the computer what this has to do with me, apart that they are my friends, but it is actually more than that. This is like the millionth time (ok fine, probably nearer three or four times) that I have introduced two people from two different social groups of mine and they have “hooked up”! And this time it is even more… irritating because my female friend is one of my closest friends… why? Because this girl… is the girl that everyone fancies!!! Blind DateNo… really… every time we go out together for a drink… or go to a party… or whatever… all the guys flock to her… and I am always… the “cool funny girl” or as I refer to it “everyone’s best friend”. I am going to be single for ever (and this is why I said it always comes back to myself). It’s not the person she is with that irritates me, or that she has found someone (I am always happy when a friend has found love or a semblance of it) but it is just ridiculous that I have got friends who are all dating each other… and yet no one introduces me to guys… as I write I can feel myself getting more and more bitter… but I don’t really think I am… I think I am becoming Cilla Black, that old chipper bird from “Blind Date”. I am… a catalist of love, a fucking synapse… an electric spark… people just stick to each other, and I end up being the discarded charred rubbish… or in more realistic terms… the “introducer”… the presenter of “who wants to meet… your new (choose from this selection) boyfriend/lover/husband/wife/fuck buddy or one night stand…

The thing is, I know this is not going to stop… why? Because I don’t practise “friend segregation”. (sorry to use such a loaded term, but I felt I didn’t have a choice here). I… just mix all my friend together in a fruit salad. My philosophy is that if I get along with them, they I am sure they will all get along too. I have plenty of friends who don’t mix their social circles… notably a “friend” of university I no longer speak to because she found a more interesting group of friends and stopped hanging around with me because she didn’t want to mix “me” with her “law friends”. I felt like… discarded trash… so I said… ta taa to her.

To conclude, I am not annoyed by my friends getting together, my opinions on whether or not they are suited for each other is another matter, I just hate the role I have… because deep down, I two wish I was the contestant, and not the presenter. But hey, I have the shotgun loaded for my fortieth birthday… if I’m still single and I have cats plural, then it’s KABOOM… other than that, I’ll be looking for a new day job, if anyone has any ideas !

l

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Filed under Clichés, Errrrrr wtf?, Friends, Hate!, Men vs. Women, Politics, Society

It’s no longer chicken soup for the soul ladies and gents…


It’s raspberry cheesecake and chilli chocolate muffins.

Not to out do Martha Stewart… after a day of boredom… i decided to bake… bake… and bake. Not great when you’re on a “diet”… I need to lose boob and tummy weight… even though everyone says I don’t need to (especially the boob section) but I suppose I just made that a but harder… in any case… I got a message from a friend a few days ago… asking how I was and if I wanted to meet up (in Toulouse) next week… But to be honest, I don’t know if I should. I mean, (and I am still confused about this part) after I left Stockholm, I got back to uni… and everything had changed. My guy friends just… “dropped” me. Why? I have… no idea… this guy (who I really liked… as a friend… and may I say… he tried to sleep with me a fair few times… not that THAT was going to happen) just decided… he didn’t want to be friends anymore… well to be more correct when after 3 months I still hadn’t gone for a drink with him, I asked him straight out why we had not seen each other… and he said “I don’t have the same desire to see as I did before”. Now, to be brutal… I was floored. We had never been uber close… but close enough to know each other pretty well…

So what did I do?

I got up, and made myself some new friends! Partied like a crazy person, worked hard and got over it.

So… why do I suddenly get this… request to “meet up for a drink it’s been ages”…? I have no idea… argh. Even I can’t try and psychoanalyse this shit. So I am going to have a slice of cheesecake, and a giant glass of wine… or diet coke… whatever I can get my hands on first.

If you want the recipes… here we go (at least something positive can come out of it) :

Baked Raspberry Cheesecake 

Ingredients

  • 8 digestive biscuits
  • 50g butter , melted
  • 600g cream cheese
  • 2 tbsp plain flour
  • 175g caster sugar
  • Vanilla extract
  • 2 eggs, plus 1 yolk
  • 142ml pot soured cream
  • 300g raspberries 
  • icing sugar

Method

  1. Heat the oven to 180C/fan 160C/gas 4. Crush 8 digestive biscuits in a food processor (or put in a plastic bag and bash with a rolling pin). Mix with 50g melted butter. Press into a 20cm springform tin and bake for 5 minutes, then cool.
  2. Beat 600g cream cheese with 2 tbsp flour, 175g caster sugar, a few drops of vanilla extract, 2 eggs, 1 yolk and a 142ml pot of soured cream until light and fluffy. Stir in 150g raspberries and pour into the tin. Bake for 40 minutes and then check, it should be set but slightly wobbly in the centre. Leave in the tin to cool.
  3. Using the remaining 150g raspberries, keep a few for the top and put the rest in a pan with 1 tbsp icing sugar. Heat until juicy and then squash with a fork. Push through a sieve. Serve the cheesecake with the raspberry sauce and raspberries.

Dark Chocolate and Chilli Cupcakes

Ingredients

  • Chocolate cupcakes :
  • 175g (6 oz) unsalted butter, softened
  • 140g (5 oz) light muscovado sugar
  • 2 large eggs, beaten
  • 2 tablespoons golden syrup
  • 225g (8 oz) self-raising flour
  • 115g (4 oz) dark chocolate, melted
  • 1 or 2 red chillies, deseeded and very finely chopped
  • Chocolate frosting :
  • 175g (6 oz) dark chocolate (above 70% cocoa solids)
  • 2 tablespoons dark muscovado sugar
  • 150ml soured cream
  • To decorate :
  • Red and green coloured marzipan
  • Red sugar sprinkles

Method

1. Preheat the oven to 180ºC/350ºF/gas mark 4. Line a 12-cup muffin tray with paper cases.
2. Beat the butter and sugar together until creamy. Gradually mix in the eggs and stir in the golden syrup, flour, melted chocolate and chopped chillies.
3. Spoon into the paper cases and bake for 20 minutes or until just firm to the touch. Cool in the tin for 10 minutes before removing to a wire rack to cool completely.
4. To make the chocolate icing: chop or break the chocolate into small pieces and melt in a bowl placed over a pan of steaming water, stirring until smooth. Remove the bowl to the work surface and beat in the sugar until dissolved, followed by the sour cream.
5. Spread the frosting over the cupcakes and decorate with chillies, or hearts moulded from coloured marzipan or sugar paste icing. Scatter over red sugar sprinkles.

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