Australia. The land of eternal sunshine, overly descriptive road signs and a preposterous number of ant species. The place where it’s acceptable for men to wear short shorts, you’ll get cream with your dessert whether you like it or not, and where it’s illegal to complain about the rain. Don’t be fooled into thinking that travelling is all jet setting, partying, glamour and lounging around on the beach drinking beers. It isn’t. Being a solo traveller (did I just call myself a solo traveller?) you are faced with a whole new world of challenges that are hard to understand unless you’ve done it yourself. But I’ll give it a go.(more…)
Have you ever wondered why the British drink tea so much? Perhaps you think that we’re obsessed with this strange beverage with its oriental origins and milky additives. Well, we are. You see, tea is more than a drink to us. It’s a way of life. Let me explain.(more…)
I’ve recently discovered ‘flexing’. What is that, you ask? I’m not convinced that anyone really knows for sure but I think it’s very amusing. Flexing, or maybe I should call it ‘flexin’, isn’t the thing that happens when you tense your muscles – well, it is the thing that happens when you tense your muscles, but that’s not the kind of flexin’ that I’m talking about. What I’m talking about translates to ‘showing off’; flaunting your material wealth and using this as a barometer to demonstrate to others how worthy you are as a person. It’s not a new concept and the term ‘flexin’ has been around for ages, but I should state that the cutting edge of culture (especially American culture) doesn’t reach me at the rock under which I live until way after the event, so if you already know what I’m talking about you’re probably thinking “Pfff, gurl where you been?”(more…)
When I was little, I was excited about the prospect of adult life. I envisaged a whole world of adventure and possibility and no one around to tell you what to do. When you’re a kid, adults seem like they have their shit together and things make sense to them and they know about stuff and I wanted some of that for myself. Make no mistake: being a kid is tough. You have to do what people tell you and no one takes you seriously and you’re really small so there’s loads of stuff you can’t do by yourself. Plus you have to go to school, which is a cruel and confusing place.(more…)
Valentine’s day is upon us and for many that means last-minute panic buying due to societal pressure, but FEAR NOT, I have your back. I’ve written some thoughtful poems for you to gift your special someone (you’re welcome). Don’t worry, there’s something in here for everyone. I was going to say be sure to credit me, but, on second thoughts, maybe don’t.
Roses are red
Violets are blue
I know where you live
And I’m watching you
Your eyes are like waterfalls
of lava in hell,
Your clothes have the scent
of a musty stairwell,
Your voice, it whispers
on a westerly breeze,
A strong hurricane
full of pointy debris,
I feel I’m in heaven
when I’m next to you,
If heaven were a wasps’ nest
in my favourite shoes,
Our love is so strong
’till death do us part,
Which I hope will be soon
as you deaden my heart.
It’s Valentine’s Day
I forgot chocolates and flowers
Here’s a Greggs pasty
There was once a husband called Dave
Who woke up and had a brain wave
On Valentine’s Day
Instead of bouquets
He’d get his wife something to clean with
It’s been a really, really long time since I wrote some horoscopes. Too long, some would say. Not long enough, would say others.
Around the 2nd of the month you’ll develop a ringing in the ears which, by the 8th, will turn into a full cacophony of ear-splitting white noise and screeching that nothing can relieve. Driven to insanity, you cut off your own ears in a Van Gough-inspired stunt but then discover a gentle and soothing passion for blobby landscape oil paintings.
Avoid honey, cartography, bridges, cotton wool, good intentions and radio 4 this month. A scabby, incurable rash will engulf your body if you don’t.
You accidentally join a satanic cult by entering the wrong room at the local university and being too polite to leave once the meeting has begun. Three hours later, you’re a fully initiated member and leave worried that this may damage your chances of getting into heaven. I can assure you that it does. Have fun in hell.
Every day this month will be a Monday.
This month, while walking in the forest, you’ll discover that unicorns are real. But, despite photographic evidence, no one will believe you and as you become increasingly fanatical, one by one your friends and family leave you. You’ll be forced to live alone in a tent in the woods as all you have left is your… “unicorns”.
You happen upon a small Irishman lost near a rainbow and, convinced he is a leprechaun, you try to sell him on eBay. Big mistake.
Remarkably, you solve the mystery of why there is only ever one shoe at the side of the road. Well done you.
Virgo, virgo, virgo. On the 1st of this month it will dawn on you that everything you do is worthless and nobody loves you. The rest of the month will follow suit.
There will be an alarming incident around the 15th that will leave your co-workers unable to look you in the eye ever again.
Nothing can prepare you for the level of tedious monotony that will consume every waking second of this month. Honestly, October will make the M6 motorway seem exotic and invigorating.
I know I’m usually pretty hard on you, sagittarius, so you’ll be pleased to know you’re off the hook this month. However, don’t park your car under any trees because, well, you’ve upset the bird kingdom.
You come up with the idea of a septuple-decker cookie-doughnut-waffle-ice cream-marshmallow-whipped cream-chocolate coated sandwich of joy. The early prototypes are good and you decide it’s the best idea you’ve ever had. You taste test the final sugary monstrosity in front of a substantial internet audience but this grand unveiling reveals, to your bitter disappointment, that the end result is inedible and disgusting and it leaves you wondering what on earth you were thinking. The whole endeavour finally tips you over the edge into diabetes.
You know what I’m completely sick of? Seeing those ‘inspirational’ quote posters, but when you read the quote it quickly becomes apparent how utterly meaningless and hollow it is, like the soul of a career politician. They’re complete rubbish; an eel in the desert makes more sense.
People go mad for them at the moment. They’re littering social media like rubbish on a hot day at the beach. But here’s the thing: I’m convinced that people are pretending to understand them in order to make themselves seem cool and inspirational. Those people share them on their social media, thinking “Ah, yes, everyone will see how cool and deep I am when they see this intellectual, philosophical shit” not realising (or caring?) that the words are empty and the quote makes no sense.
Alarmingly, though, the act of people sharing the quote legitimises the poster’s meaning as something does makes sense: if loads of people claim to understand it, then it becomes something that can be understood. Even if the quote is still meaningless, and those people are probably lying.
It reminds me of when people use long words because they want to show how clever they are but in reality they don’t fully understand the words and so end up using them in the wrong context and essentially looking like a complete knob.
Even more annoying is when the quotes are from people that no one’s heard of (again, I’m sure they’re made-up people) but the fact that they’re being quoted makes it seem like their nonsensical opinion matters and you should care. You shouldn’t care. Don’t even think about caring.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m a sucker for a cool font and a bit of bokeh nature photography but, I mean, shit, will people write literally anything just to get a few likes on Instagram?
To be fair to inspirational posters, there are many out there that contain quotes that are indeed uplifting but, unfortunately, as is the case with so many good things in life, the idiots have capitalised on the idea and filled the pot with rubbish.
I realise that I’m probably swimming upstream here and should perhaps just get over myself. The internet has become a place where anyone’s ridiculous, ill-informed opinion is accepted (including mine!) and that’s just how it is in the 21st century. So, I made my own inspirational poster:
Well the good news is that I won’t be having problems with rabbits eating the vegetables in the garden any more, thanks to my firm but fair method of pest control (see below).
The bad news is that I don’t think it’ll work for the squirrels because they’re crafty little buggers and I think they’re politically motivated because they systematically targeted all of the strawberries last year. Ate them all, before they were even ripe (have I complained about this before? I complain about this on a regular basis). They know that strawberries are my favourite fruit, you see; they’ve seen what joy I gain from growing and picking them. I think the squirrels are upset due to the time I chased little Jimmy around the garden (I don’t know if the squirrel’s name was Jimmy) and the fiasco with the bird seed. That’s when things turned sour, but, see, I don’t think it’s possible to reach a truce with squirrels like I have with, say, the spiders that live in my window or the little vole who resides in the flower bed. Squirrels are bastards, and they’re smart. While I think my friend’s suggestion of land mines might be a little counter-productive, I’ve got to start putting up anti-squirrel propaganda around the garden or spread some rumours about them to the other animals or something because that strawberry shit was too far. Squirrels are devil sympathisers, after all. No, really, they are, I’ve seen it.