Just had a good stretch. Love a good stretch. It only dawned on me in the very second of writing that you could say, ‘stretches? I’ve had a good stretch.’ And mean like the same that you would mean if you said, ‘relationships? I’ve had a good stretch.’ What if like someone mistook you and they were like, ‘How does stretching and relationships relate?’. You’d probs be like, ‘well they don’t really.’ I reckon you’d be stuck in some kind of to-and-fro convo for a bit then move on.
Also just checking out stuff that’s trending, because apparently it will give my blog more traffic. It’s normally something about one of the Jenners (Kardashians?) who has worn a very normal piece of clothing, but no- today folks, is the date that the Goat Man (urban myth apparently) is actually real. I’m not sure how to weave this story nonchalantly into my ‘life blog’ but i’ll give it a go. I read somewhere that it’s better not to deter from your usual form of blogging, and just give your own jaunty take on the topic.
It has actually reminded me of a theory I have about ‘urban myths’, such as like excorisms, crop circles and Solange Knowels. They bloody never happen anywhere normal- they always always happen in places like Kentucky, or Massachusetts. I think because these places are in the middle of nowhere, so the townsfolk are all a bit mental and don’t really know what to do with themselves. Stuff like this would never happen in Norwich because we’re realists. The biggest mystery in Norwich is the name of that club on London Street- it’s been renamed about 37812 times in the past few years. I think it’s called Gonzo’s tea room now. But that’s a guess. Just like the goat man probably doesn’t exist, but you could hazard a guess that he might.
Anyway, if my blog doesn’t go viral after this, then I guess it never will. So last night I partied in my pjs. I live in a pub and Gina and I and Gerry went out to Crouch End for some drinks, then came back to the Boogs about mid night. I put my jammies on, then came back down and became an instant hit with the fellow party goers. I felt like a celeb. ‘There goes that girl in the pjs… wow look at her! One day I’d love to wear pjs too…’ You know that kind of banter.
I’ve been a bit slack of the old ‘consistently writing my blog’ thing, so i’ll have to whizz through a few life events:
I went to see Sticky Fingers concert (just lolling to myself here- when’s the last time you referred to a gig as, ‘a concert’? Like, ‘last night I went to a concert in my frock then I went to the disco with my friends for some alcohol.’) Sticky Fingers are an Australian band and they are sahhh friggggin sicckkkkk (English for, ‘cool’.) They cancelled their gig earlier this year because the drummer was poorly but he’s okay now and the gig was good.
On the same evening as the gig I taught Gina one of my many life hacks: Get a kebab (falafel wrap) BEFORE you get crunk. Eat half of it so you’re not drinking on an empty tummy, then when you’re battered at 4am, you can gobble the other half. Don’t worry, I am absolutely 100% very aware of how incredible I am as a human.
We had our work Christmas party at the Half Moon Putney, where we watched my boss’s band. Look at this picture of me and all my work friends in our Christmas agency shoot. I managed to expense my festive leggings. Pretty much my highlight of 2016.
We had a Gash Grove ( I used to live with 8 girls in a big house in Leeds on a road that was called Ash Grove, but was creatively changed to, ‘Gash Grove.) Christmas dinner. I think my insides are around 90% cheese and wine at the moment. Its all I’ve consumed (and plan to consume) for the foreseeable future.
This advert for an Xbox game. I sat there for ages thinking it was called, ‘Just Cause’ in the same way someone would ask you, ‘Why are you having cereal today?’, ‘Just ’cause.’ Like there’s no reason for it. So I’m like, oh so you play this game and you charge around a desert island, I assume slaying baddies and discovering hidden caves… just ’cause. Then I realised it meant, ‘FOR A JUST CAUSE’. Anyway, I prefer my take on the game.
It was Gerry’s 50th. Kate Moss sang him happy birthday. We had to drop her buddy off home, but we were not allowed in for tea, which was sad.
I got my hair did- really wanted a Brazilian blow out BUT BUT BUT I got highlights too and the hairdresser man said I’d have to wait.
I bumped into Sean Lock and I don’t care that I’m name dropping because I love him with all my heart.
My mum sent me a picture of a trolley full of booze.
So I’m currently just looking at HONY on Facey B and have realised that I absolutely love Barack Obama. For a second I though he might be my favourite celebrity, but after yet another stunning performance on ‘I’m a Celeb…’, Ant and Dec still hold their no.1 spot, a close second being King Julian from Madagascar. Obama can have third place as I’m starting to go off Eamonn Holmes.