Well what is dis? What is it? It’s my life blog, crawling back from the depths of WordPress to terrorise your social media feeds.
This is the year of the Croth (the Chinese have argued, ‘monkey’ but whatevs) and this such means hence forth that 2016 is going to be stonking. Stonking here means, ‘really good’.
I’ve decided to become a TV presenter. So, I quit my job and now I’m just sat here waiting for Ant & Dec to call. Jokes, I’m now sort-of freelancing at work, so I can do other creative tings on the side. So far, this is the most creative thing I’ve done.
In other news I hiked Machu Picchu. I mentioned in my last post from 665bc that I was going to Peru. Well, I did. And it was great. I put heaps of piccies on FB but if you’re not my friend on Faceboooooo then I guess you ain’t never get see them lol.
I met some cool people, which I won’t name because then Mara will be like why did you mention Tiny and not me and Elyse, then Noodles will get huffy because I wrote an ode to Jucinta. Now look what you’ve done.
Things to bear in mind when travelling to Peru- the country is not dangerous but your diarrhoea will be. That’s about it- go bloody see it for yourself!
So my body clock is way out and I think it’s like morning in January but it’s night time in February. I just ate a bacon sandwich and had ANOTHER CUP OF TEA. I was meant to write this last night but I am ill cough cough cough.
So I got back home last Monday night (went straight to work on Tues, what a trooper). I went to the Grump club Tues night to see some bands play. I only had a coffee and didn’t stick around. Wednesday I met up with Gash Grove (lol) and we had pizza from Franco Manca. I then waddled home.
Talking of a being a proper fatty, so far for dinners I’ve had ice-cream, bacon sandwiches and Pot Noodles. Get this right, ONE POTNOODLE was £1.09 in the shop, but TWO POTNOODLES were £1. How does that work? Anyway, I was only really into the Chicken & Mushroom kind (classic) but they only had one, so I took a chance on a Beef and Tomato, remembering they were a close second. Well bugger me how wrong can someone be?…
Well bugger me how wrong can someone be?
Having a Beef Pot Noodle for tea!
They used to be so good
Now it’s pretty shoddy food
Goodbye brown cup of crap
I don’t ever want you back.
So I’ve been feeling a bit flu-y (not well, a bit iffy, sick, ill, tha realest) but by Thursday I was feeling proper chipper (proper chipper means, ‘quite spritely and not at all ill but maybe a bit but nonetheless in good spirits so ignoring potench (potench is my new word for potentially) protests from immune system’) so I jovially decided to join in with THE WINE TASTING FROM DOOM at work. 18 people, 18 bottles. Oh and did I mention the cocktails at Quo Vardis? NO I DIDN’T BECAUSE I SAID IT LIKE THAT LIKE TO ADD IT ON TO MAKE YOU GO OMG JENN WHY.
So now Crothyhumperdinkle is back to square one. Sniffity sniff, coughity cough.
That brings us to Friday. I was meant to meet a boy on Friday. I didn’t meet the boy because I was already being woo’d by the Grim Reaper. I might be being a little dramaaartic but I was in bed by 6.50pm and woke at 4am with a mouth like Gandhi’s Birkenstock.
Here I am on a swing in a desert in Bolivia (never know if it’s ‘Dessert’, or, ‘Desert’. If I was in a pudding in Bolivia on a swing I think that would be the result of hard drugs. But this is just me, clean, on a metal swing. I bought those RayBan’s from a random dude in the street. They were £3. He told me they were real RayBan.
Saturday morning, Gerry and I went for brunch at Bill’s in Muswell Hill. I had a sausage sandwich.
I rescheddded with THE BOY WHO SHALL NOT BE NAMED. Wait, no… THE BOY THAT LIVED. It doesn’t really work in this context. He’s called Joe and HE SHALL NOT PASS.
We went for some reasonably priced craft beer (lol) at a pop up vintage store called Paper Dress Vintage in Hackney Central. We then got a cab to a gay night in a pub called the Chatwell arms. One bloke held us gently for a long time and whispered all about candles in our ears. It was quite nice.
This was the sign for free breakfast in my hostel. It made me laugh every morning. WE ARE TRYING OUR BEST!!!! I imagine some motherly type out the back in the kitchen, bitter and resentful towards every crumb of egg (is this a thing?) not eaten. She weeps into her smelly tea towel, shakes a fist at the grimy kitchen ceiling and wails, ‘i’m trying my best!’. Then she made this sign.
Sunday morning I went for brunch. Then I bought a blue stripey shirt which was meant to be oversized and baggy and chic but I work it to work today and you could pretty much see my knickers. On reflection, I looked a little bit like I had just gotten out of bed. This is something I’m trying to avoid in 2016- I spent a lot of time last year looking like an old bin.
I cut myself a fringe. Some times I think I look absolutely great then sometimes I’m like WHY DID I DO THIS WHAT POSSESSED ME. I wanted to look like Suki Waterhouse and I instead I look exactly like this guy.