How does one discover the terrible outcomes that happen when doing things you mother always told you not to do? Where did such old wives tales and somewhat common sense rules that are passed down from generation to generation actually come from?  As a child I forced my mother to read me a copy of Hillaire Belloc’s “Matilda, who told such dreadful lies” that we got from the local library.  I mean forced in a very literal sense.  We kept renewing it so much the library actually sold it to us just to get us to go away.  I don’t know if it is a story you are familiar with but the long and the short of it is that a young troublemaker by the name of Matilda is left alone by her Aunt and decides to call the fire brigade.  Now I’m sure you can imagine how the story is going but alas it is slightly more sinister than the more familiar tale of the boy who cried wolf. The poor girl is left home alone again as punishment (although her Aunt was going to see a play that didn’t sound all that much fun anyway so I can hardly see how being able to get out of it is punishment!) but this time there really was a fire.  Of course no one actually believed her (again, a townhouse is burning down and no one actually notices?!) and the last line from the book will stay with me always: “And therefore when her aunt returned, Both Matilda and the house were burned.”  Yes, it is harsh, and some might say slightly cruel of my mother to be  reading such a story to a pre-schooler, but it was brilliantly illustrated and it carried a clear message:  Lie and you’ll die horribly! This guy wrote all kinds of stories like this. There was Jim who slipped his nurse’s hand at the zoo and was eaten by a lion and the slightly more outrageous tale of George who was given a giant balloon as a reward for good behaviour but told to keep it away from the candles. Obviously he paid no attention and the balloon burst on the flame and the house collapsed killing most of the occupants.  I have run with scissors on many occasions (but never in front of my mother I must add) and even being the most accident prone of all the worlds idiots, I have never actually fallen and impaled myself with them. No, my usual trick as a child was just the normal running around, head down at full pelt. Obviously this resulted in many a collision with doors, windows and various pieces of furniture and the subsequent trips to Accident and Emergency that these accidents require. In fact there was one point in my childhood that I was in A&E every other weekend! Of course we all grow up with all these “Health and Safety” rules in the home and at school. We all KNOW not to walk in front of a swing in the park (especially if it’s got a bigger kid on it!). We all KNOW that the oven is hot and we all KNOW that if you run around with food in your mouth it WILL end badly. We know these things, and are almost pre-programmed with some of them, but that doesn’t stop these accidents from happening.  Now you know something of my accidental history, you will be far more sympathetic to the “Dude’s” cause: To create me a full body safety suit (something like a full bomb disposal suit or something constructed out of bubble wrap and gaffa tape). He seems to be under the impression that I cannot be left unattended for any length of time at all for fear of me losing a limb or melting my face off, and alas this theory was proven correct just a few days ago. I was off on an adventure to the local Lidl store around the corner to find wonderful things to cook him for dinner when it happened. No sooner had I left the house then I was getting myself into trouble. The black wheely bins had recently been emptied and then left in front of the gateway so I figured I’d bring them back instead of just moving them. I pulled the first one in and up to the wall perfectly well but the second was a different story. As I pulled it into the wall the wheels gave out from under it and the whole thing came down handles first onto my foot. A rather protruding piece of plastic on the edge of the handle came cracking down on joint between my foot and big toe. I can proudly say that I managed to maintain and didn’t scream or even yelp. I managed to swallow back a pained gasp as I realised that some old fella across the street was actually watching me! I decided to be brave and continued on with my mission and started hobbling slightly down the road. I stopped about half way and checked on my foot. I was slightly concerned with what I saw to say the least. Where the bin had landed was a beautifully deep, bright white dent surrounded with a faint green haze and accompanied with a rather numb sensation. Still I hobbled on. Unfortunately I got to the end of the street and realised that I didn’t have the “Dude’s” bank card with me to actually pay for this shopping! So back I went. Whilst I had been walking (trying my hardest not to limp) I had left a message on Facebook for a friend telling of my story and pointing out that the “Dude” was probably going to shout at me for touching the bins in the first place. Of course I was right. I got back and told him what had happened and yes he did tell me off. In fact his actual words were “You were only gone five minutes!! I can’t take my eyes off you for a second can I?!” I put a cold compress on it for five, borrowed his trainers, got his card and set off once again (I’m nothing if not determined). Needless to say it was a very painful injury and I was concerned for a while that I had broken or cracked something in the top of my foot but I don’t think I have. The bruise on the other hand I’m not happy with. Now, if I gently knock myself on something I end up with a massive and rather dark bruise, but if I do something really rather bad, I end up with almost nothing to show for it. The bruise that is there is spreading yes, but I’m sure its fading. It has now been 4 days since I did it and it looks more like dirt than a war wound! I just hope it’s one of those bruises that goes in before it comes out! It’s not so much that I want the sympathy; it’s just that I need to have something impressive to show for such a stupid injury. And so what have I learned from all of this? I am to stay away from all windows and doors, not to touch anything that has small parts, sharp edges, overly warm or hot and most certainly nothing that weighs more than a quarter of my body weight unless wearing the correct Personal Protective Equipment!


P.S   Feel free to leave comments telling me about some of your own stupid childhood (or even grown up!!) injuries 😀


I am amazed, but not totally surprised, by the incredible lack of culture in what is supposed to be a university city. I know all students are famous for is the drinking and leering, but surely at least some of them should be making some attempts to broaden their horizons? The “Dude” and I recently went to St. Davids hall to see the Mugenkyo taiko drummers and we were both severely disheartened to notice the lack of attendance for the evening. The tickets were hardly expensive, maybe equalling the price of entry and a drink, or maybe even just a drink or two, in any one of Cardiff’s “trendy hotspots”. Now I’m not turning into my mother here, I promise, but I really don’t get what all the fuss is about. I’ve never been much of a party animal (it was a novelty at 17 but by the time its legal it’s just boring) and instead would rather sit in a pub (well beer garden what with being a dirty dirty smoker) with the “Dude” and maybe a friend or two and rant about the rest of the world, the state of movies today and the gang rape of the english language that is coming from the, like, nearby table innit! It was a throughly enjoyable show and it was nice to indulge in a bit of culture for a change. It was a beautiful, and almost seamless blend of traditional Japanese drumming styles and performance and modern, Western influences. There was even a bit of everyone’s favourite, contemporary dance! ~Unfortunately, this dismay was only compounded by the sights as we left the concert hall. Walking through Cardiff city centre (on a Sunday night I might add!) we were confronted with the reality of living in a city occupied mainly by students. Dozens of small groups of people in matching t-shirts (some kind of freshers thing I assume) and most of them in either pajama bottoms of just their underwear and long socks, broken up only by the 3 grown men in baby pink romper suits and the poor guy with the glazed look in his eyes, wearing what I can only hope is his girlfriends salmon pink negligee. It was around this point that we realised exactly where every one was. St Davids Hall was all but empty, and yet Revolution and Oceana will have been packed fuller than Linford Christys lunchbox! The amount of fake tan, lip gloss and hair extensions was becoming almost obscene and you almost feel you don’t want to let anyone near you for fear of transference of such things, or the fact that they just seem to look sticky. In fact the “Dude” has stated that he would rather “eat a crack pipe than lick a student”. We all know that he is a student, but he’s actually a grown up too. He’s older than a lot of the “kids” in his class and has bills to pay and a healthy respect for other people’s feelings. It seemed to get better as we headed out of the city centre and away from the hordes of revelers, that was until we got that little bit further and back into Studentville. Unfortunately the “Dude” happens to live in Studentville, but definitely not through choice. Luckily the new students that have moved into the house next door for this year seem to be ok. By this I mean they have much better taste in the music they blast out at the most ungodly hours (not for us you understand, for as you know I’m not one for sleeping at any normal times, and luckily neither is the “Dude”, but for the other normal people who live around them) and prefer playing racing games rather loudly to having drunken parties. The only downsides I can see to them so far is the occasional bizarre yelp and the even more bizarre throat singing at various times of the day. As we crossed the road and set foot onto Studentville high street we heard the roars of laughter coming from a group sat around in the front garden of one of the houses a little further down. As walked further we saw two of these, clearly drunk students managed for find the power to propel themselves across the road and into a parked car. They clearly had the idea to jump on it, as opposed into it, but one of them managed to land on his back on the bonnet and the other only managed some sort of pathetic barrel roll directly into the rear door and on to his face in the road. We were glad to be home. Now, as I have stated, the new neighbours next door are not too bad thus far, but alas the same can not be said for the crack head looking chav upstairs.  One evening, whilst trying to cook dinner, to have it ready for when the “Dude” got back from uni when I heard something a bit odd. I listened a bit harder and realised that it was the guy upstairs watching pron with the volume turned up full blast (pardon the pun!). Then there’s the guy on the top floor who had a visit from the police recently, possibly in connection with the recent addition of an eyepatch to his wardrobe. Of course the “Dude” had to try to listen at the door and discovered it was something to do with them telling him to stay away from some woman. This building is a truly fascinating place to be and would make an incredible social study. There is clearly a distinct hierarchy of dysfunction:

Ground floor: Us nice, normal, only mildly sociopathic metal lovers who like to keep themselves to themselves and try not to make too much noise.

First floor: A self abusing chav with a serious hearing problem, who does nothing but shout at his son (I hope to god that night was one of the nights he DOESN’T have his kid with him!)

And 2nd floor: A possibly psychopathic genius (he’s in mensa) stalker with a severe squint, trying out a his new “Pirates of the Caribbean” look.

We’ll have our own place soon. I hope!

Current mood: uncomfortable
Ok, so I havent blogged in a while, but I thought it somewhat necessary to sit here, in my little box of a room (studio/downstairs spare room full of crap) looking past the monitor at what should be a window, but alas was bricked up several years ago cause the chavs (although they weren’t known as chavs back then) around here can’t walk down a lane, see a brick and a window and keep on walking! Sorry, totally off the point there but that’s just how I’m feeling right now.
Those of you who know me even just a little will know that I have an attention span comparable to a hyperactive toddler who’s just eaten all the blue smarties (again, back in the days when the blue smarties were just made of pure sugar, not like now! everyone’s too busy worrying about e numbers and shit to make the sweets-remember people, sweets are bad for you ANYWAY!!!! Leave them as they are!!!- to make sure anything actually tastes good) shit, sorry, wrong meeting!
Anywho, I digress. To be totally honest, I seem to have once again greatly increased my caffeine intake and it is not having the best of effect. I have become more then just a little bit twitchy and I have decided that, considering it is nearly 7 of the clock and I havent eaten anything all day, I should probably go and find some sustenence -or however you spell it!- but alas, my father is continuing with his effort to get the kitchen looking somewhat presentable and I fear that should I go in there, not only will he tell me to fuck off for trying to make something to eat while there is wet paint everywhere, (yes, cause I’m planning on smearing my food all over the walls thus beginning the transference of both food to wall and paint to food) he may well try to stuff a paintbrush in my hand in a bid to get me to help.
Yesh, cause that’s such a good idea right now! I’d probably end up getting more paint on myself than the walls!
“Go out and get something!” I can almost hear you all cry. no seriously I can, its gotten that bad I’m sure there’s someone calling me every 5 minutes! but I’m afraid I can not. For you see, I am a bum, and so totally shit with money I have none left. I couldn’t even pay for the dress I attempted to buy the other day. yes, you read that right, I, yes, ME, had the intention to buy a DRESS!! Not just a dress but also a pair of seriously sexy, 80’s style high waisted trews and a tailored jacket, all 3 of which came to the astonishingly grand total of £13! So it would seem that I am mearly resorted to fresh air and fags to keep me going for the forseeable future.
Bored? No, bored does not even BEGIN to cover it! I’m actually considering gnawing my own legs off and replacing them with some sort of massive springs just cause it seems like a fun thing to do. Plus it would make getting around a bit more interesting, and slightly less calorie intensive, what with my distinct lack of car these days.
I mean, sure, the old man has gone and insured me on his lovely new car, for all of a month, but I’m not allowed to just go jollying whenever and wherever I want. Nooooooooo I have to use it for sensible, business related matters. That’s another thing, I need more bookings! come on, how hard can it be to convince women to part with their cash and buy some new undies or a nice piece of pink (or whatever colour you choose) vibrating plastic that’ll keep you company on those lonely nights?!
Maybe I should stop this now, this desk is too high and the sides of my hands are starting to hurt from resting them on the edge of it. grrrr
Right, I’m off to find something interesting to do. I have been told I should really keep my sisters new boyfriend entertained while she’s out, but how can i do that without being accused of trying it on?! I cant think of nice, clean ways to keep someone entertained right now!
Maybe I’ll go and work on my plan of action for getting a job, maybe I’ll work on my strategy for world domination (na, too much like hard work!) but if I do end up going with the springy leg idea, I’ll let you know; and if it doesn’t work out I’m sure you’ll hear all about it on the news.

Once again i have been left to my own devices and yes, once again i am oh so very bored! i built a fort a few days ago, on the advice of my so called conscience mr marc Awson (loves ya fella!) but unfortunately i made the mistake of building it around me whilst sat at the computer, so when i thought to myself “dude, this is awesome!” (it had a little roof and EVERYTHING!) and decided to take a picture of it, I didn’t even think of the fact that i wouldn’t be able to get a decent picture of it from inside! I mean, it’s hardly “Cribs” but it was pretty cool, if very small. i had thought of maybe fashioning some sort of device to extend my camera phone away, and outside of said fort, and this would have been a truly astounding idea, had i not run into a few technical difficulties.
1: having walled myself in, i had no access to anymore supplies with which to fashion said go go gadget arm. at least, not without dismantling my fort,
2: I may be slightly more creative then most, but alas, i could see no way (I mean, I wasnt gonna think about it TOO hard, that would just be crazy right?!) to take the weight of the camera at the distance needed to get a decent shot and depress the button to actually capture the image!
and I’m sure there were plenty of others but i cant think of them right now for i do believe it is time for coffee!!!
right, coffee got, but sadly not drunk yet, for it is a tad hot!
so where was ok, oh yeah, the fort!
well, having passed up the idea of creating this go go gadget camera arm, I decided to try and get up and out to take the picture. Big mistake. The whole frunkin lot came crashing down. and that was the end of that! i know, i know, i can hear you all now, why didn’t I just make it again? well no! as those who know me will know, something this momentous can only happen once. I’m too much of a perfectionist to make it again. it wouldn’t be the same, therefore, would be no good!
I cant say I’m not slightly saddened by the lack of photographic evidence of its existence, but I can still picture it in my mind, and that’s all that matters. take my word for it, it was genius!!!!

How is it, that in this day and age, and at this point in my life (I’m soon to be 22 and I am frequently reminded about how I have the whole world at my rather large man feet) I still manage to get a right royal grilling when I mess things up? I am only just a twenty-something and I was under the impression (rather stupidly on my part i now feel) that this was the period in your life where you make all of your stupid mistakes and find your feet; But noooooooooo, apparently not. I am famously lacking in both drive and mental capacity. By this I mean that, as I have almost no attention span, I also have almost NO short term memory. The lack of drive has no direct relation to ambition. I have a great many plans and would love to conquer the world, but unfortunately as I have so many plans and goals, I find it very difficult to pick just one to run with, so I dont. These two aspects of my personality do not seem to fit very well hand in hand. Take my list for example. I, like most people I’m sure, have a list of “dream jobs”. Now, this list is probably as long as my arm but as I have never really written it down before I probably wont be able to remember more then the top few, but here goes:
1: Fashion designer (I WILL be the next Vivien Westwood)
2: Director or Producer-havent really decided yet! (I WILL make that damned documentary!)
3: Artist
4: Singer
5: Actress
6: Researcher for either the BBC (preferably nature or crime shows) or Jeremy Kyle!
7: Bounty Hunter
8: Some sort of secret agent
9: Writer
10: Food critic
I could go on. No, that’s a lie, I can’t think of anymore right now!
Take yesterday as a perfect example. My father, once again, had a massive go at me for not getting anything done. My laptop got rather sick a few months ago (I think it might be the electronic version of AIDS or something) and I now need to totally reboot it with vista, and start again. The problem is I assumed that, as he had set it up for me in the first place, that he had made me the backup discs, should anything so tragic happen. Alas no, this responsibility fell to me who was blissfully unaware that such things needed to be done. So all I had to do was get on to PC World (where said piece of equipment was purchased) and find out from them if there was anything they could do without me having to pay a million pounds to good old Mr. Gates for a new version of Windows Vista. I however, with all my mastery of procrastination, kept putting it off. It is now past the end of its warrantee and so i have to contact Acer directly in a bid to get it sorted. They will no doubt be able to help, but will almost definitely charge me for the pleasure. I only did all this phoning around after getting the aforementioned verbal kick up the backside from my old man. How difficult is it to make a few phone calls when something goes wrong? Well, for me, it is rather tricky. For you see, dear readers, that I am totally incapable of fending for myself. I have the wonderous ability to find other things (and no, they’re not even more interesting and CERTAINLY not more important) to do.
I need to tidy my room, but I’m not THAT bored. Yet I will almost certainly sit here for the next few hours going on, to no one I fear, about how unutterably bored I am.
I did get something reasonably productive done yesterday though. I baked bread! Yes, I was a good little housewife type and baked some bread rolls. Now, I fear that too few people will appreciate the therapeutic value of spending a good 10 to 15 minutes kneading bread dough whilst listening to some rather loud, rather “bangin” tunes (or should I say “Choons”). Rather splendid they were too I must say!
Last night didnt quite go according to plan either. I was MEANT to be going to town with my loving big sister, her hubby and best friend to see the legendary John Pleased. This is a source of great bitterness right now so I’ll try not to get too angry, but I had no money with which to fund this night out. So instead i went to my old mans lodge skittles night. This, sadly, didnt turn out to be quite as much fun as I had hoped it would be. Although I did manages to make Flick choke on a peanut by mentioning my mothers comments about ensuring you’ve got a “shiny growler” if you’re seeing a ‘gentleman friend’. That and her continued attempts to embarrass steve!
11: Agony Aunt (I can’t take anyones advice, and I certainly can’t take my own, but I seem to be pretty good at helping others out)
So anywho, last night I decided to throw caution to the wind and have a drink or two. Ooooooo I’m sure you’re saying, big deal! Well, I’m on bloody anti-bionics at the moment so those two pints left me feeling rather tiddly to say the least! That combined with the fact that again I’d eaten naff all for a few days made for a rather interesting night. Had I thought about it a little bit harder I probably would have been able to go out with Ry, Geoff and Lu! But no, I still would have had to have found the money to get in! If I find out they managed to get in on the guest list I WILL hurt someone!
Right, well, rant over for now. I suppose I’d best go and find something else to avoid doing!
12: Photographer!