La la la la la la la la lalalalalaaaa la laa laa laaaaaa

--> That was my rendition of "Deck the Halls", the popular Christmas ditty. I do hope you enjoyed it. I have been rehearsing all day.

Yes anyway. So, tis Christmas and that. WOOOOOOOOOOOO! I have had several thousand presents (divided by 100 = 10s of presents) and they were all very nice. Well, I say all. I had the usual big pants from my aunt but they are always useful for... well, dusters... hmm... But she also bought me some rather wondrous fluffy multicoloured socks. I like fluffy socks. They are fluffy.

I also got an IPod, loads of Ruby and Millie make up, some Eddie Izzard (a DVD, not a physical chunk of the man himself), a few CDs, clothes, some Kylie perfume (oh, my parents are hilarious, but it does smell nice) and other stuff of immense joy. Yay! I love Christmas! I have taken many photos of pigs in blankets (not literally), my outstanding table laying skills and Jesus and Jesus in various poses. I will put them on Facebook and maybe Blogger when I have time.

I have prettified my blog! I still need to change the colours but I will do so when I have time. Which will probably be when I'm back at work. Ha. It's great having your own office with nothing to do :)

Here is a small poem/carol to keep you going:

Jesus
Jesus
Jesus
Jesus
BONG
BONG
BONG
BONG
Jesus
Jesus
Jesus
Jesus
SONG
SONG
SING
SONG

Jesus is our friend, Jesus till the end!
Lalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalala
FUNKY ROTTWEILER!!!!!

WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!! (Repeat to fade)


Happity Christmas everyone!

Shhhh...

I'm at work so I really shouldn't be blogging. Never mind eh? It was an accident. I blame the Evil Pink Dog staring at me from beside my monitor.

Soooo... I have a new job! I have my own little office. Here is me looking scared in said room with Evil Pink Dog staring menacingly over my shoulder:

I have gone from chatting to nice student types about their money problems and making small paper hats out of cheques to taking orders from scary lecturer blokeys and organising a conference at very short notice with no conference (or other!) organisation skills whatsoever :S *shakes with fear*

AAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!

Still, all the other admin people are nice and always invite me for tea and biscuits in their building. For they are in a separate building altogether and I am here on my lonesome. Weepity weep. I have my Maltesers advent calendar and Disco Jesus to keep me company though. Today's advent calendar door says "The first Malteser ball was born in 1936", which has put a worrying image in my mind of a situation with some kind of pregnant mammalian chocolate creature and a celery midwife using candy canes as forceps *whimper*. Not even chocolate can help me!

Oh listen to me babbling. I'm so very bored. Look at that man with that banana

P.S. Does anyone know how I can get the "About me"/Links etc section back to its rightful position? I know usually it ends up at the bottom if you post a picture that's too big, but I haven't! Any help would be muchos appreciated. Merci x

My wonderful Welsh family

I didn't post much before because I only felt able to blog when I had an idea for a post in mind. This was quite a rare occurrence. Why I do not know, when you consider this little gem of an anecdote...

I have family in Rhondda, South Wales. My grandma on my mum's side of the family married a Welshman, they had seven kids and lived happily ever after on the side of a big green mountain. Well, my granddad died in 1991 but my grandma is still living happily in the same house on the side of the same big green mountain. It's a bugger to get to, particularly if you're the travel-sick-y type like me. My mum swears that you can see my grandma standing outside her house on Google Earth. Anyway my mum and one of her brothers now live in my hometown of Leicester, and her only sister lives on the banks of Inverness. They saved themselves while they could. My other four uncles still live in Wales. Let's just say that particular area seems to be something of a bad influence on its inhabitants. I'll call it the Curse of the Valleys, or the Curse of the Big Green Mountain, if you'd prefer.

Take, for instance, my Uncle Robert and his wife. I was going to write a short paragraph of explanation here but

1. I have to go to bed as I have a job interview tomorrow morning

and

2. THIS explains itself :D (if my mum finds out I've done this she'll go crazy. Oh well.)

God knows what I'd have turned out like if my mum had stayed on that Big Green Mountain. Heehee.

I'm back...

...with more inspiration than ever before! I have a new and wonderful muse who has inspired me to metaphorically get off my arse and start blogging again. Metaphorically, not literally, because to be honest, the fact that my boyfriend lives in a different part of the country is keeping me sitting at my computer for much longer than is healthy. What the hell, I don't care. His messages make me very happy and keep me sane. It takes a lot to keep me sane (see previous post) so he is doing very well indeed. *Pats Chris on the back and gives him a very nice biscuit*

I'm also aware that too much sanity is a very, very harmful thing. So here I go again...

The most recent job advert posted by my temping agency made me laugh for quite some time:

A radio station based in Coventry are looking to recruit 3 Promotional People to work on Saturday 6th, Monday 11th, Tuesday 12th, Wednesday 13th and Thursday 14th December.
1 person will be required to dress up as a Christmas Pudding and the other 2 people will act as escorts for the pudding.
You will be working as part of their Christmas competition. You will walk around Coventry town centre and members of the public will approach the pudding and tell them a joke. If the pudding laughs at the joke then the member of public will win tickets to a show.

Tis good, yes? I think so. I would make an excellent pudding. I would scare the children and make up some kind of pudding-like dance and everything. I'm a grafter, me. A big, pudding-shaped grafter.
Hmm maybe not.

The Story of Jon Chappell

As you are no doubt aware, our good friend Jonathan Carl Chappelllellelelleeellelelle is soon to bugger off to China for a year. May Jesus rest his soul and give him the strength to learn to fly with the Chinese otters of success. Here is a biographical epic that I have penned for the occasion. And all because the lady loves it really. Jonathan Chappell, THIS IS YOUR LIFE...


Jonathan Carl Petunia Scrotum Chappell was born on 1 January (like all horses) (not that he is a horse, that's not what I'm trying to say) in 1997 at Nuttal Memorial Hospital, Kingston, Jamaica to Barbara and Kenneth Chappell - best known for a series of tribute dolls in their image popular in the late 50s.

The happy couple were later shot dead and little Jon was parented by the wolves for several years before he was taken in by those he now calls his parents, who discovered him while out wolf shopping on holiday when Jon was 7.

At an early age - well it's still early I know, but earlier than now - Jon found that he had within him a burning passion to dance. Scottish reels, line dancing, just jumping up and down, you name it, Jon did it. Horace, his kind wolf-mother-guardian-thing, took time out of her busy career as a nail technician to take Jon to his daily dance classes in the ocean where Jon danced the night away with his fellow dance enthusiast animal friends. Every available minute was spent in the water, explaining Jon's development of a fine set of (invisible) gills and fins and his unfortunate lack of ability to dance on dry land.

However, dancing was not his only passion...

One day, our Chappellular friend found that he was looking at the world in a different light. "Why do we have nail cuticles?" he pondered. "Why don't you ever see a monkey having a period?" Horace was of course unable to provide suitable answers to these questions, leaving Jon frustrated and hungry for further knowledge. Jon knew that he was onto something.

The wolves were overjoyed when they heard the news that Jon was applying for a batchelors' degree in Lupine Philosophy at the University of Warwick, and up until the successful completion of his course Jon was sponsored by The Jamaican Wolf Child Institute for Pointless Degrees. Don't try and argue with that Jon, I've seen your records at work :). When the Institute compared the two main first degrees available from Warwick's Philosophy department (BA Bog-Standard Philosophy and BA Lupine Philosophy), Lupine Philosophy was deemed "too relevant" to human life and as such Jon's sponsor insisted that he take the first of the two options. Which he did, although reluctantly. And what a life choice it was, for it was while studying at Warwick that Jon learned that time goes forward and not backwards as he had once believed.

Today, at the young whippersnapper age of 9, CoOp sales assistants nationwide are still asking to see Jon's photograph and life history in the form of his passport. This surely can only be down to the joy they feel when reminded of his amazing story. The happiness exhibited in Jon's expression when such individuals decline alcohol on the basis that it is not worthy to pass through His hands is quite something to behold, and an experience few of us will forget in a hurry.

BEHOLD, JONATHAN CARL CHAPPELL AND HIS LIFE OF WONDER!

(Can we have the Gamecube back please? You won't have time to play it in China ;).)

Yet another poem about animals...

Dog
Hog
Frog
Mog

Monkey

Fish
Squish(ed) fish

Gnu

Phew

My bum is wet

Against all my better judgement, I have been on the rapids at the fair AGAIN. This was over four hours ago and my bum is still wet. Also due to Johnson's Holiday Skin my arms are like those of an albino zebra after one application. *Thinks* Zebras with arms, good or bad? ARGH, ZEBRAS WITH ARMS!!! ZEBRAS ABLE TO CHEW GRASS, AND THROW GRENADES!!! VERY, VERY BAD! *Blocks said animals from memory to minimize emotional scarring*

Phew.

Well I was going to make this post longer, but I have decided that I have forgotten what I was going to say. So there.

Oh the bitter pill of self-delusion (a poem inspired by Kate Bush and others)

We all love trees
We don't love fleas
We all love cheese
We don't like peas

Please, oh please
We cannot choose
Between an egg

















and pointy shoes
















You make us die
You make us cry
Blah blah blah fly
And blah blah Pi

3.1415926
53589793
23846264
33832795
02884197
16939937
51058209
74944592
30781640
62862089
98628034
82534211
70679821
48086513
28230664
70938446
09550582
23172535
94081284
81117450
28410270
193852110...

*Sigh*

My oh my! You make a lie! Why, oh why? WHY, WHY, WHY?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!

WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY?

WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY?!

WHY?

WHY?

WHY?

Rye is why.

OH YES.

Now die.

Or become bi (if you are not already).

Or dry (your clothes, or your hair, both of which may have just been washed).

Or fry SOME EGGS.

But all of it is ultimately pointless

Off we slide into the Comatic Land of Doom. Mushroom.

By the way...

I know the pictures have fucked up the layout of my blog, so don't bother telling me. Unless you know how to change it.

Also a new poll to follow soon when I'm particularly bored of telling finalists they can't graduate until they've cleared their debts tomorrow.

Plastic Dog xxx

Joyous joy of joys

A new post. MY BLOG HAS RISEN FROM THE ASHES LIKE A PHOENIX OF DEATH. I think Jesus and his monkey slaves must have something to do with it.

Speaking of Jesus and his monkey, look what I just found by typing "jesus monkey" into Google Image Search:


Sadly, the monkey has taken this image back to his lair :(

BUY IT FOR ME NOW PLEASE

I forgot how wonderful image posting was! I've missed my blog! Maybe I will go overboard and post more images. Watch me go, Mr Salamander...

I never knew there were so many Jesus-monkey-related images out there

Look it is a parsnip

A/some (?) celeriac

An axolotl in a suit

A murderous Irish TV presenter in a suit stolen from a suspiciously dead pilot

Your mum (apparently)

I want pizza you taunting bastards!


I'll leave it there and go to Sainsbury's. I would just like to add though that I hate Jon and Matt and will find my revenge in the near future. Death to you both!!!