» Crazy Relatives

Where to start...
My grandma, when walking down the street once, became aware that her knicker elastic had snapped. Her response? To keep walking, and when they reached her ankles, she just stepped out of them and kept walking. She used to dye her hair all colours of the rainbow, but when I was born, went to the hairdressers to get the dye stripped out, and get it bleached white so she could be a 'white-haired granny'. Turned out she didn't need the bleach since once they'd stripped the dye out, it was already white.

My grandad thinks he's my uncle and hasn't been able to differentiate between me and my family's cat for years. He also sexually abused my mum for several years, precipitating a whole load of not-so-good loopiness in my family as a whole.

One of my other grandmothers is Irish and Catholic, and used to be a nurse. She's so unbearable that people in her local high street will dive into the nearest shop to avoid her and her incessant talk of who's ill, and who's dead. She's not happy unless someone has an illness she can discuss. She went to New York once, and couldn't sleep. So she went to the Subway and got the first train to a place name she recognised. She quite happily wandered around deepest, darkest Brooklyn for several hours, talking to randoms. It's my considered opinion that they were more scared of her than she of them. Oh, and once she got really annoyed about having to stop at a zebra crossing for a guy who was a phalidomide (sp?) kid, and referred to his 'little flipper arms' and how he shouldn't be allowed out in public.

I could go on, but the conditions of my day release say that I mustn't.
(Thu 5th Jul 2007, 16:28, More)

» And that's the thanks I got

Stale croissants...
Whilst in junior school, I had this friend who came from a family who, seemingly, didn't know about hygiene - their house always stank of piss. I was only friends with her cos she didn't have any other friends and neither did I. Anyway, her parents decided to go on holiday, and leave her with my family in return for payment for her living expenses when they got back.

So, the whole week, I had to share my room with this utter brat of a girl. We fought constantly. I'd be caught between her doing what she wanted to do and what my parents wanted us to do (and you'd better believe I was more scared of my parents). At one point we got into a massive fight, and at another, she decided that the floor mop was a great thing to wipe the food surfaces with.

Anyway, week of hell, her parents get back, thank god, and in return for her living expenses they present my parents with....a bag of stale croissants and a bottle of wine that tasted like vinegar. They probably cost about 20p from the hypermarché.
(Thu 24th May 2007, 14:58, More)

» Work Experience

Not for the squeamish
Not 'official' work experience, but my aunt, who was at a loss for what to do with me whilst I was staying with her for two weeks, sorted me out with some 'volunteer' work (I had no choice in the matter) at the wildlife rescue charity where she worked.

My job involved cleaning out pet carriers with wounded hedgehogs, pigeons, etc in. I thought dog shit was the worst smell ever. But how many people have had their head inside a pet carrier liberally smeared with hedgehog droppings? I assure you that it's considerably worse.

This isn't the worst bit, though. Feeding the bastard prickly things was the one thing most people refused to do. I'm not a squeamish person. They fed the hedgehogs a mixture of kitten food, biscuits, vitamin mix....and baby chicks.

The baby chicks are a result of the battery egg process. Some eggs are kept and hatched in order to get more chickens. Some of these eggs hatch into cocks, ok, male chickens. As we all know, men are useless, at least for laying eggs. So, they gas them. At one day old, the baby chicken still has the yolk inside the stomach. Hedgehogs, particularly wounded ones, need their food chopped up.

You can guess what's coming. Kitchen scissors, off with the legs, off with the beak, cut it all into little pieces, and be careful where you aim so that all that lovely protein-filled yolk doesn't go everywhere. I don't know how I did it, really I don't. Hedgehogs are evil.

Length? About 5 inches long and covered in spikes.
(Fri 11th May 2007, 14:18, More)

» Mad Stuff You've Done To Get Someone To Sleep With You

Check the goods before you make the purchase
Working in a supermarket was so dull that I managed to convince myself I had a crush on this arrogant wanker in the produce section. Obsessions tend to grow and, eventually, we were flirting unashamedly, to the point where he actually kissed me.

I promptly broke up with the bloke I was living with in dull but comfortable circumstances and moved into a tiny room in a shared house. It was horrible.

And yes, arrogant wanker in the produce aisle turned out to have a tiny dick and dumped me for his Danish internet sweetheart on New Year's Eve. He also turned out to be a Neo-Nazi with a (small, but raging) hard-on for Nickelback, Puddle Of Mudd, and all those other generic bands who have no future save providing WWE with generic theme tunes.

To get this guy back (why bother?!), I tried sleeping with his friends, sleeping with him casually, flirting with every other guy in the supermarket, everything.

Oh, and the other stupid thing I've done to get laid was travel from Portsmouth to Coventry to meet this guy I only knew from the phone and internet. This one thankfully had a nice big dick, was willing to learn what he didn't know, and was so ace that I married him, after that initial trip to Cov, when I returned to Portsmouth afterwards having shagged him 19 times.
(Tue 17th Apr 2007, 13:30, More)

» Terrible food

Rubber with a hump
I went to a naval boarding school...I experienced enough minging food there to last a lifetime. I also have the requisite relatives who can't cook, the most outstanding memory of which was when one of my grans served me curry with sliced banana on.

Anyway. My parents lived in Saudi Arabia for a couple of years, and whilst there we ate loads of really good food. But at the supermarket where we shopped, there were entire sections of the freezer section that we just did not go near, mostly containing brains.

Then my mum got brave and decided to make camel kebabs. Young camel is quite nice and tender. My mum got a rather more mature camel. The result was the toughest meat EVER. Like, not just a little bit tough, you'd go to bite down to chew and it would spring back to its original shape. Blechy.

But the worst-tasting thing ever was when I accidentally put way too much vinegar on my chips and was too stubborn not to eat them. My mouth looked like a cat's arse for about an hour afterward.
(Fri 18th May 2007, 14:35, More)