» Guilty Secrets

my parents' guilty secret
One day when I was 10, I was watching tv in my parents' bedroom (I didn't have one in mine). I happened to drop something I was fiddling with - a reel of cotton, as I remember - which rolled under the bed.

So I started rooting around under there to find it.

Total haul: 1 'Joy of Sex' video, one 'art' book, a half-empty packet of condoms and 3 Viz annuals (wtf?).

This of course led to a full search of the room the next time they went out. And in the top of the wardrobe I found the second stash. I've never spoken of it to anyone, but it's burned on my memory forever - I'm hoping posting it will be a cathartic experience.

one set of love eggs;
two vibrators (one of the 'black mamba' variety);
another 2 sex videos;
a 'Spitting Image' video (again (wtf?);
a sailor's cap;
one photo album with grainy 70's pictures of my mum using aforementioned vibrator (only the top one of which I ever looked at, before slamming it shut in horror, but which I will NEVER forget);

and the most upsetting of all:

a video of Jim Davidson in pantomime.


Pray for me.
(Wed 5th Sep 2007, 14:43, More)

» Ripped Off

festive cnutybollockmerchants
Made an Xmas purchase of a nice Playstation game for my boyfriend. Couldn't really afford it full-price so I went for the 'slightly cheaper, probably off back of lorry' eBay option.

The seller's PayPal 'wasn't working', so he gave me his home address:

Mr J Noble, 29 Carbeth Road, Milngavie, Glasgow, G62 7PR

and I sent a cheque. (Yes, I know, but my PayPal account has gone down from time to time so I was inclined to believe him).

Cue 3 weeks of waiting, sending increasingly pissed-off e-mails AND eventually having to buy a full-price last minute replacement - bringing the total cost of the game up to more than £50 ffs.

And then I Googled and found this: www.sundaymail.co.uk/news/feed/tm_method=full&objectid=18321881&siteid=64736-name_page.html

I'm posting the address here because any fraudster stupid enough to give their home address out to their victims doesn't really deserve data security. So if anyone happens to live near this pair of festive cnutybollockmerchants, please feel free to go round and post shit through their letterbox with my blessing.

That's: Evelyn and Justin Noble, 29 Carbeth Road, Milngavie, Glasgow, G62 7PR.

:-(
(Fri 16th Feb 2007, 10:39, More)

» Childhood Ambitions

I kinda wanted to be a lawyer...
...until the week's school-organised work experience I did at the local solicitors'.

I spent Monday trying to fix the broken photocopier, Tuesday and Wednesday reading through dusty folders of case notes in a back room, and Thursday filling in the solicitors' timesheets for them. Even at my tender age, I knew they were taking the piss.

The highlight of the week was supposed to be Friday morning, which I would spend shadowing a legal executive at Lewes Crown Court. She picked me up and we showed up bright and eager at 9am – but the toerag whose case we were there for, didn’t. So his hearing was postponed from first thing till 5pm - we’d have to spend the day there waiting.

Now, I hadn’t thought to bring a bag, as we were supposed to be back by lunchtime – so I had no money, no food and nothing to read. Woe!

Did the solicitor take pity on me and buy me some food, or a drink? Did she offer to lend me money until we got back to the office? Did she find me something to do, show me round or introduce me to people? Did she in fact engage with me in any way, even just for a 2 minute chat to make sure I was okay?

No. The selfish cow spent the entire day studiously ignoring me, leaving me sitting catatonically bored, hungry and miserable in a wonky plastic chair. For 8 hours. She worked her way through about 15 coffees and bought herself a nice lunch in the café to eat in front of me, as if I wasn’t there. I studied the wall, the floor and my fingernails. For 8 hours.

As a crowning glory, in those halcyon days before mobiles, she refused to even let me use the payphone on the way out to let my parents know I’d be late, as she was ‘desperate to beat the traffic’. My mum was frantic by the time I got home.

Thanks for the trauma, witch. I wasn’t an especially high-functioning teenager, now I can’t even think about spending time with legal people without feeling miserable and desperately awkward. :-(
(Thu 29th Mar 2007, 16:36, More)

» Top Tips

Toilet attendants
You creepy bastards are the bane of my life. I've already spent half my week's wages on the drinks in this place. I will not be giving you a quid for the 'privilege' of having you listen to me piss them out again.

I can wash my own hands, thanks, I'm not 2 years old. I have no need of cheap hairspray, knock-off perfume from the market or a Chupa Chups lolly either. Just fuck off.

Why not try getting a more respected job, like 'charity mugger' or 'traffic warden'?
(Fri 16th Mar 2007, 10:58, More)

» The Weird Kid In Class

yep, it was me
I was weird. I was both a beanpole and a boff, apparently. Which was enough to provoke people into throwing chairs at me, punching me in the face on the school bus and pushing me down a flight of concrete steps, breaking two ribs.

(Fortunately since growing I found that being a tall, thin girl with good qualifications isn't such a terrible thing. Ehhh... smug now, IN UR FACE BULLIEZ!!!!!!)
(Fri 19th Jan 2007, 13:17, More)