Convenience-Store Relationships.

Declarations of being in "An Open Relationship" scares me. Basically, when someone tells me that, or these days when FB tells me that So And Sos are in an open relationship since I can't be bothered to hold real conversations any more, I immediately imagine these people's nether regions as Convenience Stores. Does that make any sense? My visualization, I mean. One person owns the store but any Tom, Dick or Harry can come in and grab things from the shelves.

I've always seen relationships as more of a museum. See, but no touch. Marvel at the beauty that is on display but don't you dare lick or fondle King Tut's sarcophagus.

Maybe it was the way I was raised or the society I've been brought up in, but I just can't fathom the idea or another woman touching my man's Secret Bits with my permission. If Jaz can allow another person to touch my Bits, I see it as no different to prostitution, except for maybe the lack of payment. Or swinging. Jealous, much, Ella? It's not even because I have a sense of ownership towards Jaz's person. Neither do I think he can stake claim over mine. It's not like it is some True Blood (which is a garbage show, in my opinion) Vampire ceremony where I can say Jaz Is Mine and no one else can touch him or drain his bodily fluids. I'm not just saying this because it's Jaz. Fuck, our relationships might go tits up tomorrow, for all I know, due to unforeseen circumstances. It's all relationships I was in, currently am in and/or will be in the until day I kick the bucket. He is not my other half and neither am I his. I'd like to think we came into this relationship as whole people not needing to be half-filled in to. Fuck knows I have enough on my plate to worry about what the bloody hell is wrong with his hardware or where I can get a better graphics card for his person. I am like Sims 3 Base Game and he is my Night Life, World Adventures, Ambitions Expansion pack. I can still run without him but it's much more fun with him in it. Stevie is my Sims 3 Pets Expansion, while we're still on the subject. I can go on about this.

Why bother being in a relationship then? Is it so that you can have that one person to pin it to, no matter what, when you get unexpectedly knocked up? Or were you each others' back-up plans? Maybe you are just charitable... Oh, hey, come try out what I've been tapping. Baby, you've got such amazing Flappy Bits I want the whole world to be able to enjoy it. Or the men in the Hertfordshire, at least. Until of course, you decide to go to Ibiza and then the men on holiday there, too. Which will mainly be English men because you know how young, privileged English Youths like to go and gather in Ibiza and get Ketamined off their fucking reproductive systems.

What happened to the sanctity of relationships? I'm not talking about marriages because that thing is looking like a fucking sham to me these days. It seems like people are getting married just so they that can fuck around and then split up so that they can use "I'm a divorcee" as a pick-up line. Most homosexuals can't get married, yet they are allowing all these mindless, young as fuck heterosexuals with no fucking idea what contraception is getting married left, right and fucking centre.  The more I see all these stupid fucks getting married for reasons beyond me and the more children I see all dumb-founded due to the aftermath of their parents' sheer fucktardness, the more I want none of it. Maybe I will just remain engaged to Jaz forfuckingever. Really, I don't see the point of this God Person and Jaz doesn't either so we are not getting married to get in His Good Graces. Maybe we'll get 'married' by the beaches of Bournemouth, butt-naked, under the Moonlight and sing Kumbaya.


"I didn't marry your father because I was so in love with him and I cannot imagine another day without seeing my name as his Legal Missus on BT bills and Boots Newsletters. It was because he had knocked me up 3 times and I think it was about time he made an honest woman out of me and we can stop living in sin. So that we can later commit Adultery by sleeping with other people. Adultery sounds more grown-up."

Youtube Chefs

Am I the only one who watches cooking tutorials on Youtube for hours, like umm 6 hours, and then end up having fucking pot noodles for dinner anyway? It always reaches to the point where I get so starved of nutrients due to the bloody Youtube loop I got myself into that I just run off and get the nearest thing that will fill the massive cavity that is my stomach. Baked potatoes? What? Fuck it, just stick the kettle on.

I can cook, yeah. Nothing majestic, though. Simple dishes that make most pot noodles connoisseurs drool, however. The most awe-inspiring thing that came out of the oven, baking-wise, was the peanut butter cookies that Kaz taught me, pretty much. Almost always, I'd run to Youtube, or saunter as that is as much I am physically arsed to do, and look up Red Velvet Cupcakes (over-ambitious, I know, but you can't be over-ambitious about baking silicone cups of sin, then you don't have a lot to look forward to in life), and see them Youtube Chefs whip out their fucking Kenwood mixers. That is as soul-destroying as watching make-up tutorials and see the Beauty Gurus whip out their bloody MAC brushes and pigment pots. Fuck them who thinks they absolutely have to own MAC garbage to get ahead in life, make-up wise. I have never owned a MAC brush and I think I look phenomenal enough. Fact. That brand have enough exposure as it is. Then again, I just can't afford a MAC brush and I can't justify spending that much when other brushes have done the job for me. Back on my self-righteous horse-on-stilts I go.  I am so sick of them over-priced, mass-produced equipments. Like Dyson hoovers of the cooking world. Still, it wouldn't hurt if someone gets me a Kenwood mixer. It would be much appreciated.

Youtube Whatever is like porn for me. I watch it, I get sucked into it for the entire duration. Sometimes, I touch myself. Sometimes I immediately close the window when Jaz walks in, though that is usually when I have Air Supply on. I go 'Ooh, aah' and pull faces but I almost always never replicate whatever it was I had just watched. Like certain things that can never happen in my Secret Bits, certain things will not happen in my kitchen, Photoshop, or my general face area. I don't see why I would want to look like Neytiri from Avatar after watching the make-up tutorial. Although, I would like to try out the Zipper Face ones.

I don't get 'Cravings'.

I get proper, stark-raving mad, full-blown, near-dementia case of wanting to eat something.

When I was pregnant with Charlie, I would say things like 'I would really like a big, fat, juicy burger, dripping with burger relish.' and people would say 'Oh, the baby is craving, eh?' Eh? No. I want it. Not the baby. It was not what my body suddenly needed since I was with child. It was because I just fucking want a burger, okay?

Even now, in the middle of Winter when I pass by the freezer sections in Budgens, I would say I wanted a massive tub of Strawberry flavoured ice-cream. Not because pregnancy had meddled with common sense being you don't have ice cream in Winter. It is just because I just fucking want ice cream. And I am not pregnant. If ever I were to fucking ask for bloody Marmite and peanut butter sandwich then yes, demand me to piss on a stick. Until then, I just want to eat something.

I was sat in bed last night, describing to Jaz, my vegetarian partner, how fat, juicy and oily I want my roast chicken to be. Fucking rude, I know. Well out of order, but if I can't share my deepest, darkest desires with the man who shags my brain out then who can I share them with? He didn't ask me if I was pregnant. He had long accepted that I just bloody love my food and if my occupying a good deal of the bed with my massive arse does not already make it obvious, then I don't know what will.

I am just a fucking porker. I want my chicken. Why lie? Why sugar-coat the truth with lies like 'My body needs the protein'. Why? I thought we are all supposed to be true to ourselves? Your body just needed for your mouth to munch on some crispy, roasted chicken skin.

Why is it that when I am stuffing my face with a mountain of lush, fresh, crispy salad people ask me if I am on a diet? You fucking idiots can ask me such a question that would be deemed insulting in some cultures but when I answered with 'No, I am just eating me greens because I am constipated. I just needed something to make me shit soft so that it'll stop ripping me bum in tatters.' you recoiled in disgust and said 'Too much information, Love'. Oh, so the details of my mythical diet was just the right amount of information then? You don't need the entire details of my bowel movements then? Why are trying to bring me down when I am performing the sacred act of Having My Dinner?

Who actually noticed I was gone?

I have been away from the interwebs for a bit for reasons being the internet connection has been a bit painfully slow and boggy.

Added to that, I was also a bit under the weather. Nothing major but any reason for me to stay under the duvet and watch countless movies, I'll take it.

I have also managed to watch the entire ten seasons of FRIENDS and have spent a few more countless hours jumping between the seasons and marvelling at the transformation the cast have gone through. I have also found a new-found, bottomless pit of hate for Rachel. She is a slag, that Rachel. Let's face it. A fucking typical slag. Ross is a spineless swine. How is she 'The favourite Friend'? If I ever have a fucking friend like that, who is so hopelessly dippy, and self-centred, I will fucking top myself off. And why is she always walking around without a fucking bra on? I fucking despise anti-gravitational tits being flaunted on the telly. Stop. Trying. To. Offend. My. Tits. Media.

I had not realized I have spent this long being away from the internet, actually. Must be all those days killing animated spawns of Satan on Vampire: The Masquerade Bloodlines.

I'll even try to jump on FB for a bit later or something. There are some things on Facebook that I would rather not face at the moment. Yes, Pussy Way Out. We all take that route sometimes.

'Whatever' won the poll.

A poll was carried out on what is currently deemed the most annoying word on this dying blue globe and 'Whatever' took the cake.

I do see how that can be annoying. I see how when 'Whatever' was being said as an answer to a life-burning question like 'Shall we have Chinese for dinner?' (and whatever food-related is of utmost importance to me), it made me want to bash an inanimate object.

Other words on the list were 'Like' and 'You know'.

When I first knew Jaz, I realized that he ends his sentences with 'You know what I mean?' and it got my back up a bit because it made me wonder if he thought I was a bit thick until he had to double-check each and every time if I had indeed gotten what he was trying to say to me. Years down the road now, I have learned to filter that sentence, and a few other sentences along the way like... 'Don't throw this away, I am going to put this aside in a minute'. Maybe he does think that I am thick and he really is Being Patronising.

I am guilty of saying 'Like' like a lot. Really... Like... To the point of being hideously annoying when I am talking to myself in my head.

I am a bit surprised 'Literally' never made it to the list, though. 'Literally' has got to be the most misused word in the English language in this time and age. Every fucking corner I turn I hear people, mostly from the teenage to young adult age group, saying they 'literally' did something that was quite humanly impossible. Like 'Literally Died'. How many times have I sat in front on a person while they went on and on about their Super Amazing Life and then inserted some stupid First World Crisis like the battery of the iPhone died and they said 'I literally died. Like, LITERALLY, BRUV.' and I was sat there looking at them and said 'No mate. You did not "literally" die because you are standing right fucking here. You a fucking walking dead or something?' and then be seen as the World's Biggest Cunt Type Of Person. No, look, you phallus, The Oatmeal said so. I hate stupid people.

This is what happens when deluded twats try to pull of drama like I do. You are supposed to say it like this: I walked up that hideous hill in St Albans and I am telling you... A small part of me died inside.

Please don't make me walk away saying 'I like, LITERALLY, punched him in his fucking face for misusing an English word in England.'

No... Don't want to live on this planet any more.

The types of people I Unfriend-ed.

More often than not, I Unfriend-ed them because they are Dickheads. That is always a good reason to cull people off your lists, actually. Your Facebook so it is your prerogative, isn't it? No matter how trivial the matter or contributing factor that led to them being labelled as Dickheads. Dickheads come in various shapes, forms, sexuality, emotional and intelligence level.

Emotional Dickheads


Usually seen quoting Nickelback or Incubus song lyrics in their status updates. Not that there is anything stupid about them lyrics, but it is the way they are usually quoted in that soul-draining, heart-broken manner that makes me want to stab my own jugular with a child-friendly cutlery. What they are saying, these Emotional Dickheads, is most likely - Look, my girlfriend/boyfriend/whatever is being a totally emotionally-disengaged whore and she/he/it had left me so please just listen to my pain in these stupid lyrics that I am posting while I am doing a shit. Because I am deep and am a sensitive person like that. No, you are a Dickhead and you make reading my own Facebook feed more horrible than it should be.

Another type that falls into this category would be the Serial Relationship-Status Changer With Man/Woman-Bashing Tendencies.

I get it okay. Man are dicks. Woman are cunts, too, all right? I thought you wanted equal rights. Look, women burned their bras so that we could get equal rights as men, but now that you have got that equality you want to play the damsel in distress and not shoulder the blame?

Not all man/woman are arseholes, Love. Just the ones that you tend to go for are. Even I, who never actually interacted personally with you and only perved on your profile once in a while know that you have a soft spot for a certain type. You can't save his Bad Boy Soul. He will not change his ways for you. She will not stop being a slag for you. Trapping him/her with a baby won't make a difference either. You are just setting the child and yourself up for a fucking disappointment.

Fake Profile Pic Dickheads


I have actually gotten my FB-gaming and personal life mashed up in my FB and this is resulting in such a fucking, grotesque mess in my Friends List. With my FB-gaming ways, I have ended up randomly adding strangers to add more neighbours/mob/clan/bubble-poppers to my list and it is quite often I get added by some excessively beautiful people. Yes, there IS such a thing as being Excessively Beautiful. I have a love/hate relationship with Photoshop. Photoshop has made me lose all faith in the simpler things in life. You can't even look at something online or on a pamphlet without even wondering if the shit's been 'shopped.

It's bad enough now I have to worry if the person I'd just added had lifted a picture off the internet, I actually have to wonder if that is even human. Bloody Japanese engineers and their perfect love dolls. I have seen a few and it had scared me shitless. I don't like looking at the pictures of newly-added strangers and yell out loud 'What sort of Sorcery is this!?'.

These are men I am talking about, you know. I do know with women and our fucking inferiority complex (especially with bastard partners asking us if we've just gotten fatter at FOUR IN THE FUCKING MORNING), it's not surprising some of the female population feel like they have to stick a picture of an Excessively Beautiful model of Eastern European descent (the less she is known to the world, the better it is for you to get away with pretending to be her) to feel whole as a person. But a man? Yes, men are more sensitive to criticisms these days. I have come across a few with fucking albums of Indian actor's pictures saying shit like 'My photoshoot here and there and oooh, that is a picture of me in campus'. Mate, you have the MTV-Drama-Windblower on fucking campus? What? I don't want to live on this planet any more.


Religious Book-Thumping Dickheads


Like I have said before, practice what you want, just don't bring your fucking parade down my street.

I don't care what Jesus or whoever said. I am too busy looking into Alien sightings in Argentina. And that hoax moon landing. And Super-Earth that is some 36 light years away. You know if that planet there is fit for living in, them rich wankers are going to get first dibs anyway. They fuck THIS Earth up and then they are going to the other one and Super Fuck that one up as well. You know what? Let them all sit in an aluminium-encased capsule for 36 years trying to get there and let's see if they make it past the Van Halen without getting fried within an inch of their rich arses and claustrophobic at the same time. Let them eat cake.

I am going to form my opinions by what I can see with the shit that is happening around me and you entitled to your own, so please let us co-exist without fighting about who has the better imaginary friend just for a little while longer? Nibiru is on her way. We're all fucked.

Dickheads Who Think They Are Better Than Me


A fucking Capuchin who shits in a diaper is better than me. Don't come into my space and slag me off so that you can feel better about yourself, you pretentious self-righteous dickheads. Yes, haters gonna hate, you dumb fuck, and they have good reason to.

Putting an 'x' at the end of your fucking sentence just meant that you just slagged me off and kissed me. I am aware of that, you pussy. It does not erase the clear fact that you were a dickhead on my status.

Dickheads Who Put Kisses At The End Of Every Sentence


If I don't know you personally and you don't know me personally, your putting kisses at the end of your sentences just tell me that you are a Whore, not an overly-friendly person. As pretentious and ridiculous as those arseholes that kisses the air and when I kissed the cheek twice, asks me 'Oh we're doing two kisses now, are we?' Fuck right off the Devil's Pool in Zimbabwe. Just die and cease to exist, please. There is not enough Cannibals in this world to eradicate arseholes like you.

Oh shit, what did I just say!?

Children shouldn't be allowed to talk to me or ask me simple questions until they are well over 18.

I have somehow assured Jaz's son that there is no God and I have no idea how his mother would take that.

I told his other daughter that all man are bags of sperm and I have no idea how she looks at Jaz now after I've told her that. Well, in my defence, she was crying about boys and I was trying to hug her and shut her up so that whole 'Men are fucktards' speech was totally called for. And I also said, if it makes her feel better, I am stuck with the caveman that is her Dad. By choice.

The last time his youngest, who is now 12, asked me a question, my reply made me seriously question if I should be around them at all.

She sat next to me and asked me if I wanted her to read to me her diary entry. I was watching the telly and said, 'Well, your diary should be for your eyes only, shouldn't it?' and to that she said, 'No... I read them out all the time.' and then I said this...

'Well, that tantamounts to 'Exhibitionism', Georgia.' 


Cue for me to look over my shoulder, with my eyes bugged out as I stared at the wall and hissed, 'What the fuck?!'

DON'T TALK TO ME WHEN I AM WATCHING QI.

Because when I am watching QI, I have my Uppity, poncy mode on.

For fuck's sake, Ella, what is fucking wrong with you?

I am still praying she is not sitting at that dinner table, poking her food around like she always does and ask, 'Mom, what IS exhibitionism?'

Thank fuck she asked me 'Tantamount? Oooooh, what is that?' and realized that at that point of time that word in that entire sentence sparkled brighter in that mind of hers.