I offer thee a Period Pack. May it improve your hormonal state and my life expectancy.

I should make a disclaimer that I was at the height of hormones when I wrote this. I apologise for any and all sexism. This apology will expire at onset of the next period.
Also, I’m not really sorry, vagina life is a tough life. Think yourself lucky you don’t own this contraption.

Period Pack: An offering to the female of the species at her most volatile time. Period packs are, usually, gifted by the male to subdue the females aggressive, emotional and unstable behaviour at the onset of menses. Well received packs typically contain chocolate, puddings, cake, wine and/or relaxation aids such as bath bombs.

Continue reading “I offer thee a Period Pack. May it improve your hormonal state and my life expectancy.”

Im 30 and I like it

Happy birthday to me eh? It is too early for a hip replacement?

Well, like is a bit of a strong word. But what really are your options for turning the dreaded 3.0? Like my dad says ‘you can like it or lump it’. I’m going to tolerate it. I swore to myself that I wasn’t going to be one of those club 30 people, those people that fester on their age, believing the end is nigh, dooms day is fast approaching after the turn 29, the last year of their twenties. I promised myself 30 would just be a number, nothing important, just another orbit around the sun I have endured enjoyed. Continue reading “Im 30 and I like it”

30 Things…that really peeve me off

Continuing with the long run up to my big 3-0 celebrations (previous 30 things), I have complied a list of 30 things that really peeve (piss me right) off. Maybe I’m getting old, bitter and grumpy as I’m fast approaching my 30s. Maybe I’m fed up with people’s shit. Or maybe I’m grumpy as I live off a diet of sugar and caffeine and it’s been at least 2 hours since my last sugar hit.

Who cares! I’m going to moan my tits off.

Continuing with the long run up to my big 3-0 celebrations (previous 30 things), I have complied a list of 30 things that really peeve me (piss me right) off. Maybe I’m getting old, bitter and grumpy as I’m fast approaching my 30s. Maybe I’m fed up with people’s shit. Or maybe I’m grumpy as I live off a diet of sugar and caffeine and it’s been at least 2 hours since my last sugar hit.

Who cares! I’m going to moan my tits off. Continue reading “30 Things…that really peeve me off”

Oh FFS

Buy your domain they said, it will be fun they said. Do it now they said, it will be easier they said.

It’s been over a week and I’m still knee deep in old posts that went tits up!

FFS man.

Have a hobby they said. It’s taken over my life! Live, eat, breathe and sleep blogging! Doesn’t help that I’m a complete techno illiterate dafty. Should have stuck to being a depressed nut job, at least I could rest after the crying episodes.

Must dash, theres posts to be fixed, FFS.

My fall from grace…or the curb

Did I ever tell you about that time I fell an absolute belter (Scottish for spectacular)?

I never fall, I have lived my whole life in fear of falling, not because I could injure myself, no, I’m hard as nails me. I live in fear of falling as someone might see me, how mortifying?! I was the kid that hung on for dear life to fences and railings in the winter when Mr Jack Frost had coated the entire place, there was no way I was about to deck it (Scottish for fall) in front of a bunch of people, ruthless teenage kids no less. Watching other dare devil kids walking on the ice and ultimately falling, struggling to regain their posture on the slippy, slidey ice was not a sport I wanted to ever take part in. Sure I laughed along with the other kids, calling the poor ice victim a dafty, mocking them for the rest of the school year, but inside I was secretly thankful the ice monsters got them and not me! I fake laughed to distract the other kids while I increased my iron grip of anything close by, including long grass. My walk to school on the ice was slow, nae, a slow shuffle, think of a geriatric old man, shuffling his way to the bathroom at the speed of an ill snail. That was me. I would not be taken down! Continue reading “My fall from grace…or the curb”