two of my (terrible) poems

the most recent two:
(i can't get this one in the right format, i am well aware)
flick of the switch

The flick of the switch. A slowly crushed can in the hand of fate.

Oh for the love of god! Pitiful metaphors and sibilance

signifying nothing. If my flow of thought jumps from

Shakespeare to 'shagging' one more time...



Postmodernity of the...fraternity? No, that wasn't it, (but perhaps it was)

keep trying work harder work quicker, harder, quicker. Nothing can stop

and everything is spinning like a coin on a tabletop. Money.

The evil of all root. Politicians - stop rambling, start gambling.

"This effects us all" even though there will still be Costa del Sol,

there will still be elderly people dying, young people dying.Sun

beds and the sun, or The Sun. And then there was light



That's what god said and it was good, and if we’re very good

then maybe we won’t fizzle out like aspirin but glow and be like

it is on TV.


Hot and heavy human breath; I draw it out of the air and swallow. It smells like skin and tastes like heat. A perfect plum-purple circle is a bruise on an arm. Soft, long – fingers? Eyebrows? Even thumbs and earlobes have suddenly become endearing or sexy if they’re attached to those hands, that face. Desperate glances and not knowing what to do when I get that desperate feeling that isn’t like butterflies, but closer to the gentle squeezing of palms, or a hazy electric shock. The fuzzy eyed feeling that reminds you of jazz and soothing saliva. It reminds you of hands on your hips. Mediocre pop songs have become full of meaning. Everything has just become relevant to me or you or the both of us.

"Peaches Geldof turns to music?"

http://www.stylenoir.co.uk/newnewsdetail.aspx?id=366


what's the point? the media would be way more interested if she became an accountant or a teacher. plus that would be much less predictable. maybe the daily mail's just stirring shit though because they're misanthropic bastards with a taste for degrading female celebrities.

i reckon a bit of both

waist not want not?

so a small waist has been desirable, even if out of fashion occasionally, for a considerably long amount of time. but how small is too small?

betty brosmer


verdict: not too small


cathie jung (the worlds smallest waist)

verdict:WAY WAY TOO SMALL, loosen those corset strings gurrrl *snaps fingers*
" Cathie Jung's waist is about the same size as a regular jar of mayonnaise.
Cathie Jung's astonishing midriff is not a result of malnutrition or disorder. Rather, her 39-15-39 figure is a product of spending the last 25 years laced into tight corsets, which are removed, only when Cathie showers. Only when the weather is unbearably hot, the corset is taken off for a short while."
ARGH BLERRRRRRRRRRRRRR

but wai(s)t for it - the smallest waist recorded is that of Ethel Granger:


it is easy to shrug off this image off, but just consider what she would have looked like with her corset OFF.



sorry i just had to get that off my waist, i mean, chest

Granny Mary

i'm really freaking out about exams - i need to get ABB to get into glasgow, so i've been revising all of the easter break so far. i went to my grandparents, my dad's parents, from saturday until wednesday, and it wasn't exciting, but it was so relaxing. the only place in the world where i can sleep soundly. my grandma is called Mary Douglas, and she is the best cook ever (but of course i would say that). grandpa is called Duncan, and he used to be a lawyer. they are both really 'with it', even though they are in their mid-eighties. my granny talks in a high pitched, posh voice, and she talks alot. when i stay with them in cheltenham, i don't talk much but normally just listen. granny tells stories about when she was a 'WAAF', in the Women's Auxiliary Air Force during the war. she worked on the radars, and the americans were the best dancers, and tried to corrupt girls by offering them nylons, a great luxury. the american marines had the smartest uniforms too. there are a couple of large photo albums, with photos dating back to the victorian generation of our family.

we visited blockley in the cotswolds, but forgot to go and visit my grandpa's childhood home, which is called the old silk mill. it used to be known as Sleepy Hollow, as the 1897 silent film of Rip Van Winkle was filmed there;
"The silent film of 'Rip Van Winkle' was made in Blockley, the property where it was filmed was named 'Sleepy Hollow' after it. Only one copy of the film was made and the cinema in which it was housed burnt down and it was destroyed, only stills remain."


sorry this post hasn't been much more than a rather disjointed account of the beginning of my hols, i will rack my brains out and write a bit more soon

P.S

everything's going HAYWIRE HAYWIRE HAYWIRE
so i'm reading a lot at the moment, if escapism can be self-improving then it is definately a good distraction

since until a few minutes ago, i hadn't posted for a while, so i though i'd let you in on just a few things which you may like that i like at the moment:

-homemade smoothies. e.g blueberries, oat cereal, a little milk, a little fruit juice. then blend

-YES WAY! - an art and music festival in peckham on the 28th and 29th of March, from 12am to pm. It's only £8 for both days, and has a few gems http://www.autoitaliasoutheast.org/yes%20way.html

-for a couple of months my passion for horror has spiralled out of control. i want to get in to some more brit horror, so any nudges towards some good ole films would be much appreciated. the same goes for american be-bop and surrounding musical genres

- here's some (more?) sexploitation

I AM THE RESURRECTION

so i haven't posted anything for a while and some (very few, that is) people actually requested that i get something down, and i've been racking my brain(s) trying to decide what i could write about. i find that my blogging adventures have all been a little introspective even at the best of times. however, all though i won't claim the garbage i hark on about is particularly interesting, i find that my blog spot is the diary that you don't mind your nosey internet neighbours leafing through. the whole element of possible discovery is both thrilling and comforting. i believe that is what the internet does for a lot of us, it assures us that someone will 'care', even if only for a few seconds. they may browse over our pictures and laugh at us, or appreciate an intricately planned layout on myspace. facebook, the worst of them all, lets everyone we may have met, from our aunty to a one night stand from years back (speaking hypothetically, of course), have a peek into our lives. the need to know exactly how EVERYONE FEELS RIGHT NOW PLZ is pure sensationalism, the kind that the 21st century loves. our words cry out "LOVE ME", i don't care if you're a stranger, we share the same interests, and i can reveal as much or as little as i like to you. i can be more perfect, i can be more repulsive, or more funny. if i put more than three kisses it means i care about you. how could that be expressed in reality?

i'll let you in on something - it can.

is it just me or does no one read my blog?

today was the sixth day of the new year i'll have you know, it was so cold
i wore tracksuit bottoms over shorts and tights and srockings
and i wasn't cold
so yeah, that was me catching up with trends and being 'slouchy chic' - in other words terribly, terribly lazy

you're all having a much better time than me - yeah. But no, no you're not having a better time than me, are you, no!!! I need to stop thinking everyone is having such a great time - i'm so angry with me - and YOU - all of YOU. Not all of you.

but enough of my whining, check out oxfam online - http://www.oxfam.org.uk/shop/productdetails.aspx?catalog=HighStDonated&product=122526
its an yves saint lauren dress for mega cheap, SOMEONE SNAP IT UP

between sturdier books i have been amusing myself with "The Best of is it Just me or is Everything Shit?" (have a listen: http://www.iseverythingshit.co.uk/shit.htm)

on a cheerier(?) note it was Simone's birthday yesterday, Xtine's today, and Lauren's this thursday, so HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THEM.


xxxx


p.s why do i keep winning "who is a better singer?" on facebook? although i am apparently really famous, and a fucking brilliant singer, i am officially not hot or cuddly

OH BOO HOO