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I've changed my blog a bit - fannied about with the formatting or html or whatever it is. What do you think? Answers on a postcard.

The Apocolypse

Good evening. My blog is somewhat of a sombre one this time it seems.
Myself and my chums ventured to London town this week for a spot of house hunting. This trip was to be one of epic proportions. We had planned it for weeks. Months, even. We were to travel down, have a few days house hunting, job hunting and catching up with fabulous pals.

Little did we know what God had in store for us, my friends.

Monday 29 November
Mr Pricklepants collects me from my work. We are filled with excitement at the prospect of a) going to London, and b) having spaghetti bolognaise cooked by Petit Filous Bear's mother.
On the road we get a phonecall from Ugly Ginger (who is travelling down with PFB and our other friend, whom I shall call High Horse - she tends to take a leadership role within the group, thus I think this nickname suits). She informs us that PFB has been STRUCK DOWNwith a urine infection and is crying. They have pulled in at a service station while PFB cries, whinges (as is normal for PFB) and attempts to have a weewee. I give her my advice - have some cranberry juice and man up, as I want some spag bol before sun down.
Hours later, after popping in for a brew with family Pricklepants and being collected at said household by PFB, Ugly Ginger and High Horse, we eventually sit down to our spaghetti bolognaise. Ugly Ginger and I are bunking up in spare room together - dangerous as I am aware of her lesbionic tendancies toward me, and given my current status with men, I am severely tempted - and we drift off into sweet dreams filled with Canary Wharf townhouses and boat trips on the Thames.

Tuesday 30 November
We awake at 7.30am to be ready to leave for 8.15. I turn lamp on. Ugly Ginger screams "TURN LAMP OFF, LIGHT IS SHINING IN ME FACE!" I adjust lamp head and jump in the shower - it is here I should mention that PFB has a shower that is fit for a king. Powerful, roasting hot and enough room to fit 3 grown men. Please pause here to realise how happy this scenario would make me - before getting ready for the day. Obviously, Mr Pricklepants gets up at approximately 8.14 and is ready before everyone.
A great snowfall as occured leaving us almost snowed in at PFB's house. This simply will not do. We decide to conduct journey at 9am whilst PFB's father defrosts driveway.
We all allow High Horse to hoist our luggage into car - she is a lesbian with brute strength - and we all pile in to the vehicle with our refreshments (haribo and gone off grapes). We are in high spirits.
10.15 rolls around and we are on the M6 heading south. We hear a click sound. PFB informs us that her car is not accelerating and pulls into hard shoulder. Ugly Ginger asks if we are in London.
We get out of car and climb over a fence covered in barbed wire into a field. Ugly Ginger slips on fence and nearly pierces her fairy with a rogue wire. Cue much laughter from myself.
By this point snow is falling fast and hard - snowflakes are size of jaffa cakes. Sadly not jaffa cakes, however. PFB rings RAC and informs them of our woe. Man tells us we are "high priority" and he will send out a man to fix car "as soon as possible".
We wait in field for over hour. In times like this I feel we should get religious and ask God to help us through these dark times. It is here I conduct the gang in a spot of hymn singing - "I was cold, I was naked were you there, were you there?" and other smash hits. High Horse, who has a bladder the size of a pea, needs a wee. I do too. There is nowhere private, so we cover each other with scarf while we wee. As I am distracted I do not hide very well, and everyone on motor way sees High Horse's faff. Snow is now yellow.
Ugly Ginger gets into God worshipping malarky rather a lot, and starts holding her hands up to the heavens. This proves very difficult in a duffle coat and bobble hat as she falls in a ditch. High Horse faints due to minus temperatures.
Luckily RAC man finally arrives. Tells us some kind of belt has gone, and car is unfixable. UNFIXABLE. Says he will send a truck out to tow car and take us back to Rochdale where we began our journey. Drives off. We are left in cold again for another hour or so.
Truck arrives. PFB has discovered that our nearest train station is Stoke on Trent. Man drops us off at next motorway junction where we get a taxi to train station. Have to fork out for slow train to London.
Arrive at 5pm. Get tube to North Greenwich where we go for tea at the 02 arena with our pal at drama school (I will call him Unez) and our little Essex dancer pal. Chris from Fringe works at said restaurant. I am filled with happiness to see him as we are peas from the same pod. A naughty little brother if you like who shares my passion for confectionary.
We then visit Unez's house where we have a cup of tea, before PFB retire back to Chris' house to sleep. We are keen to put today to bed as it has been most distressing.

Wednesday 1 December
House viewing day. Day of madness.
House One
Dream house. Meet Jennifer, estate agent. Within 30 seconds we gage that she is a push over. House has 5 double bedrooms, a garden, safe location and close to tube, and our pals. Haggle price down so it is under our budget, and say we can give deposits and sign contracts HERE AND NOW. Jennifer thrilled (probs cos of all the commission she will earn) and asks us to meet her back at estate agents to tie up the deal. Due to icy conditions we slip and slide all the way to estate agents (passing a granny who is getting around by dragging herself along park fence, poor sod) happy that now we have a house, we have lots of free time to go to Harrods and such other fun activities. Jennifer has bad news. "Landlord says no", she says, Little Britain style. "Yous aren't professional enough." PROFESSIONAL WHAT, HOUSE RENTERS?!?! I am confused. We are dismayed and upset. Twas dream house, we say. Nothing she can do, says she. Whips out a brochure. "Come see this house, has nice kitchen". We agree.

House Two
Get train out to arse end of Zone 3 to see next house. Looks like Baghdad. Nothing wrong with Baghdad, by the way, but I am Scottish and uncultured. I don't even eat prawn cocktail crisps. 15 minute walk to house which is occupied by "council tenants" (skaffs). At first, don't let us in. Jennifer demands. They oblige. Enter house. Woman is changing a baby OF A DIFFERENT RACE on the couch. No mat is down. House is in disarray, smelling of both chocolate and shit. Am confused, as very fond of chocolate but not so much of shit. Couches have patchwork covers. High Horse, who has a love for all things hideous, is delighted. Rest of us, not so much. House is a mess, with turd left in toilet. Decided to decline, based on occupant's love of faeces and being far away from transport. Never mind, next viewing in Canary Wharf.

House Three
Round corner from house. Estate agent rings to say it has been let. Bugger.

LUNCH
Get a starbucks and a tesco sarnie. Ugly Ginger causes mini apocolypse and knocks drinks all over herself and nearby lunchers. We eat our miserable little lunches and separate. High Horse and Mr Pricklepants off for job interview, PFB, Ugly Ginger and myself to estate agents. All tell us they have NO HOUSES. We retire back to Chris', where we hop on a laptop and find two houses to view. Things looking up.

House Four
Perfect house. Warm, five double bedrooms, close to tube, safe location. We are thrilled and are already deciding who gets what bedroom. Slightly over our budget. Can haggle to five pounds over weekly budget. Have to decline dream house. Feel like my stomach has been ripped out. We turn to heroin to ease the pain. Only kidding. But I wouldn't have turned some down at that point.

House Five
Final house. Located in Mudchute near Canary Wharf. Lovely area. House is currently being redecorated so is part rubble. Know it will be gorgeous. However, same prob. A little too much over budget. Go home feeling tired and miserable. And HOMELESS.

Thursday 2 December
Meet at station at 8.30am to view another house at 9am. Drag suitcases through snow with mega colds. Decide not to view house due to "extreme weather conditions" and house is 20 min walk from train station (I don't walk that far unless it's to the newsagents for a wispa, and even then it's an effort). Decide to go to Euston 2 hours early so we can have a fry up and look round shops. Bought some nice postcards from Paperchase, a new mascara and had the best sausage I've had in some time.
Now, I'm not the kind of girl who suits a hat, but I found on at Euston which was perfect, and didn't make me look like I was wearing a condom on my head. Nearly bought it, but discovered it was £16.00. Reality check. Can't afford extra fiver a week for dream house, certainly can't spend £16.00 on headwear. Even if it is -6 outside.
Get our seven million trains back from London to Carlisle. Have never been so glad to get home in all my life.

Highlights of Trip From Hell
- Ugly Ginger spearing vadge on barbed wire fence
- Singing hymns in field whilst High Horse peed freely... then fainted
- Seeing old chums whilst eating the finest burger ever eaten, followed by a dessert including cookies and ice cream (didn't really pay attention as I ate it so fast)
- Meeting very charismatic estate agent with gigantic bulge. Ugly Ginger and I got major giggles and PFB told us off for being children.
- Nearly falling on my arse repeatedly due to ice, and having to be dragged from house to house by Mr Pricklepants
- Getting major giggles on train as PFB gave me shittest hand massage ever (including her doing something very weird to two of my fingers)


I'm sure some happy times did occur during trip, but LET IT BE SAID, I hate the effing snow.

Love you
Toodles xx

I'm going to bring on a natural disaster at this rate

So today's failure level has reached a whole new level (if we are going by the last 24 hours that is, and not since I woke up this morning).

Yesterday, Petit Filous Bear and I took a stroll around the Carlisle Christmas Market. I pointed out to PFB that it was not really a market, more a few stalls with miserable sods giving out free stuff. She nodded and mostly agreed with me. We were quite bored until we reached a stand which was being represented by my workplace. I made a bit of idle chatter (as - as I'm sure you are well aware - I hate them all) and decided it was time to wander on. PFB however seemed to disagree with me and proceeded to buy some mulled wine, with which you got a free mince pie. She gave that to me, as she knows my fondness for baked goods, and I was quite happy.

UNTIL!! Hot man child's mother appeared. She works within the same company and literally appeared round the corner. I rushed my goodbyes, grabbed PFB by her mulled wine and we raced around the corner. She was alarmed and shell shocked, until I explained the situation to her. She was quite happy with my explanation and we meandered on.

In front of us appeared a cup cake stall. I would like to say that this was just mere chance but I would be lying. I had been to the "market" a few days before and sniffed out said stand. I pleaded with PFB for a cake. I said she had to buy me one as I was so poor and starving, and lucky for her (face) she obliged. We were quite a happy twosome, wandering around with our food and beverage purchases and feeling very content and Christmassy, if a little cold.

This is where the dream ended, my friends.

PFB had a hankering for mashed potato. I suggested that on the way home we stopped by Iceland and she could buy her potato. She said "Yes, what a marvellous idea. I will wait by the door in my car, give you my money and you can jog in, buy a potato and then we can go home where tea-eating can commence". I felt like I could not decline, given that she had just bought me an epic cupcake. So we pulled up at Iceland, she gave me a pound, and I nipped in.
It is here that I should point out that Cumbria has had a sort of freak snow storm. The floor was covered in a sheet of Christmassy goodness and people had been traipsing in and out with their slushy feet, making the floor very slippery and wet. I imagine you can only guess what happened next.

It happened very slowly. Like a scene from a film. I walked through the door. I turned. There, in front of me, was my goal. The potato. I only had to walk a few steps on this ice rink of a floor and I would be there, vegetable in hand, little pound coin hot in my sweaty, gloved fingertips ready to pay. Apparently, God had no such plan for me.

I fell. I fell fast and hard. Right on to my back side. There was a man behind me, looking at frozen chicken satay. He was in no position to judge, but JUDGE HE DID. I attempted to get up quickly to recover the situation. That damn floor - it was so slippery that nobody stood a chance. So I fell again.
Fell twice in the space of twenty seconds.
I rushed to my feet and pelted to the till. She scanned the potato and I threw my pound at her, before pelting it out the door and to the Filous Mobile. She laughed. I did not.

Also, it's so fecking cold in these parts I had to drive with socks on my hands! Please tell me if someone else has done this. PFB laughed a lot when I explained my reasoning behind it - was cold and lacked gloves at time - and she didn't understand! Surely tis better to have a socked hand than a frozen hand?!

I was convinced today that I was working from 1pm - 9pm. In I trot at 12.50pm, ready to start my shift. Manager takes me to back office. Tells me I am 2 hours early, but since I am here, go upstairs and help housekeeping service rooms. Not a happy chappy. Atired... chappy.

So here I am, sat in work, not meant to be using the computers for personal reasons, TIRED, cold, and a dog has been sick on the carpet. (Forgot I had to tell you something. Very loud dog barking in room. Told dog owners to make it be quiet. Asked if I could watch dog til they ate their tea. Obliged - love dogs. Not this one. Was grumpy and spewed. Office now smelling of hot sick and I am working ten hour shift. Directly blaming dog.) Last 24 hours have not been so good for moi! Luckily, myself and my merry men are travelling to Londontown tomorrow to look for a house, so we can finally move away from this hellhole!

Oh, I must inform you, Jizz from fringe has started blogging! She's only done a few entries but I have laughed thus far. Please follow her: http://futurespiceshopowner.blogspot.com/

Keep reading!

Love you
toodles xx

MEN

Just so you know, MEN, you are all emotionally stunted robots. I know I often use this blog for my feminist rants, but you all just PUSH ME OVER THE EGDE! I have eaten an entire packet of biscuits today because I am very highly strung. Perhaps this explains my ranting.

If you are reading this and scared that this may be about you, then it probably is. Sorry.

More laterz.

Love you
toodles xx

GRADUATION

Hello bloggies!

Basically, I had a few of my many fans 'approach' me at my Graduation this Tuesday informing me that they enjoy my blog and I should keep writing. This, therefore, is my next entry. (For the record, I know you love my blog, but as I am so famous I do need my privacy and I don't appreciate fans just hassling me for entries in the street. Thanks.)

So the Monday night before graduation, all of the graduates (or is it graduands? I kept hearing this word and to be honest I haven't the foggiest of the difference between the two) decided to meet up for a celebratory pint in our student local, The Crown. I must admit, I was so very excited to see everybody! I had seen nothing but my stupid flatmates for months (there's only so much ugly gingerness a gal can take) and I was looking forward to some sane company.

Then I remembered I went to University of Cumbria. Sanity is in short supply and is definitely not handed out amongst performing arts students.

I believe it is time to introduce a new character into my blog - one of my greatest fans, in fact. (BY THE WAY I MUST INSERT THIS HERE - MR PRICKLEPANTS NEEDS CONVINCING TO BRING ME MY ANGEL DELIGHT WHICH I PREPARED EARLIER. YOU ARE A SEXY MAN AND I LOVE YOU. FETCH IT ME NOW.) Anyway, our great friend Twinkle Toes left UoC to pursue a career in dance at Laban in London. She walked through the door of The Crown and we all leapt upon her with such happiness! I had forgotten how much I missed her! I think she is most likely still scarred from the incident.
Other people of note who I was extremely happy to see were the other fringies. Especially Chris, my naughty honorary brother.

I shall now run down some notable events from this occasion.

1) Many hats did fall off. I nearly lost mine in the cathedral where a flatmates mum said, "Get your bloody hat on, you're in a place of worship!"

2) I talked during nearly every nice photograph of us all. Most photos have everybody looking gorgeous and smiley, and me scratching my arse and catching flies. With my hat on the floor.

3) You get pictures with people you haven't spoken to for nearly the entirety of your degree, because their mummy wants a picture of lots of people in gowns.

4) To continue, my parents were on a cruise (thank GOD) so I just adopted everyone else's families. It's better that way. You can give them back when you get too pissed.

5) Free wine at the reception after a day of no food is a blessing in disguise. It numbed the pain of talking to annoying people and their families.

6) On the night out, Petit Filous Bear and I shared a toilet cubicle. Due to my drunkeness I thought we had reached that level of friendship where I could poo in front of her. She did not allow this, but permitted me a single expulsion of wind. I did it.
Me: "I've farted."
PFB: "That's disgusting. I didn't realise we were that close, but ok."
Me: "Don't tell anyone."
PFB: "Hurry up and pull your tights up."
Me: "THAT STINKS! OH MY GOD."
PFB: ".........."

7) I did eventually get my poo. I've never pooed on a night out before but I really felt that, as it was my last night out ever in Carlisle, I owed it to the place to leave my mark. Boom boom chhhhhh.

8) Apple sourz. Followed by sambuca. Repeat until dancing to macarena with a double vodka orange in hand and empty bowels.

9) More dancing to such classics such as The Hand Jive and Saturday Night. Very difficult after 17 double vodkas and a dangerously large shit.

10) Jaw ache after smiling for so many photos. I wish I could give another reason for the ache.

11) Drinking cocktails out of a teapot. I don't even use them for tea, let alone cosmopolitans.

12) Trying to get my tongue around "cosmoteapotolitans".

13) Waking up in the morning to a horrendous bank statement and an unshakeable feeling of shame. Followed by Lloyds breakfast and McDonalds in quick succession.


What a wonderful graduation! I shall write more blogs when anything memorable happens in my boring life.

Love you
Toodles xx

Lesbianism vs. Sex God

Lesbianism is going well.
Was approached by man in gym. Said I looked like I worked very hard. Was very red and sweaty so had to agree, as am currently size of cow. Asked if I'd like to go for a drink some time. Politely declined - if man was asking me on date had to be either blind or stupid - do not want to be responsible for a man with either quality.

Went out on Wednesday night as was Mr. Pricklepants' birthday. Went to a gay club - fab night, but was approached by no lesbians, therefore rendering me unable to fulfil my project requirements. Then Man Child the Sex God asked me today at work how my night out was and if I was fully fledged lesbian yet. Said no, and told him it was none of his business. He laughed and said he was glad. Weird moment again.

Being lezzer very hard.

EEB and I still in touch. Says he is very busy and is why I never hear from him. Very confused as at one point could barely use phone as was constantly ringing me. Think it is very obvious to others and not so obvious to me. Help and answers on a postcard please.

In other news, am no longer on a cake-only diet. Have joined SAINSBURYS DIETS! Am expanding rapidly so have taken drastic measures to lower size of arse.

... Although fell of dietry wagon on Wednesday with 27 double vodkas followed by a Thursday morning hangover fry up. Did not regret a bite. Also had a pick and mix. Literally cannot stay away from sugar.

Love you
Toodles xx

Lesbianism vs Photocopier

Good evening.

A few eventful things happened during Day Two of Lezzergate. I am struggling to push myself into having lezzer tendancies - it is quite a difficult thing. Two of my friends are a lesbian couple and they make it look very easy. I must discuss said plan with them as soon as possible, perhaps they could give me tips.

Anyway anyway, today my 'project' was put to the 'test'. Was standing in back office at work, photocopying labels. Phone rang. Woman wanted to order champagne. "Hang on a second madam, will transfer you to restaurant". Did. Carried on copying. Young 18 year old whom I have recently ended an arrangement with (let us call him Man Child - MC?) came into office. Asked me to make him a label for champagne. Agreed. Both standing in tense silence next to copier. Him standing very close to me. Was very tense. Belly making funny movements. Like something out of film I turned around to give him copied label and was face to chest. Very nice chest - remembered it from 'arrangement'. Looked up. MC looked down. Awkward, tense moment. Stood in silence for few seconds (possibly few mintues, hours, days... felt like too long anyway). Then MC thanked me and left office. Was left feeling not lezzer inclined in slightest, and in desperate need of a ride. Most unfortunate.

I am not cut out to be a lesbian. I will persevere though - must remember that I am off men as they are very silly things who either can't keep it in their pants or won't get it out of pants.

Perhaps me being lezzer will not help me through my pain, as am not so inclined. Maybe should take up a hobby - pottery or clay pigeon shooting. Most likely that neither will be a successful experience as don't like to stick hands in wet crap and cannot aim, as discovered on Wii Archery, or some other rubbish game.

Ah, well. I will keep trying to trick myself into fancying ladies. Helpful tips and tricks on a postcard, please.

Love you
Toodles xx

Getting off to a slow, sleepy start

Have perhaps fallen at first hurdle. Saw man with very tight trousers on and could not stop staring at excellent set of buttocks. Must start staring at ladies now instead.

My lesbian awakening

Bonsoir.

Yes, you read this correctly. With regards to my previous man-hating blog, I have decided that I simply cannot cope with their ways any longer. After having a brief fling (there was certainly a great deal of 'flinging') with an 18 year old waiter, I realised that I am still oh so alone and hung up on EEB, and something MUST. BE. DONE.
Obviously, my only decision is to become a lesbian.
We now commence the stage in my life where I document my lesbian exploits and such. I doubt I will have such lesbian experiences that are found in pornography materials, but nonetheless, I must venture on in my quest for happiness and fulfilment.

Stay tuned, readers. I am determined to stick this one out - maybe I shall find the love of my life on my travels (be it male, female... or Mr. Pricklepants.)

Love you
Toodles xx

Revelation

Am now lesbian. Sick of blokes.

Reasons Why I Think Men Are Frustratingly Stupid

1) They literally stalk you until you become interested, and then they run away and hide and are harder to find than sweetcorn in shite.

2) Once they are with you, there is always the "ex girlfriend" problem. They either HAVE an ex girlfriend who they are horrifically, mentally in love with, or you are the said ex girlfriend who is left scared and confused at the sexed up mentalist.

3) They piss you off to the point where you have comforting visions of ripping off their lad with your teeth... And then they say something remotely nice and you seem to have had a conk on the head and forgotten it all.

4) They are great, sweaty smelly beasts who revolt you and yet entice you into the knicker-less dance.

5) Most of them chew with their mouth open and dribble on themselves. Those who don't are most probably homosexuals.

6) Most of them insist on giving you a dirty great snog before they've brushed the kebab taste out of their mouth from the night before. Those who don't are most likely homosexuals.

7) When they have pissed you off to high heaven, they are extraordinarily appalling at mind reading, therefore cannot cheer you up in anyway and get you even more fecked off.

They just bloody frigging well annoy me a good majority of the time.

This makes no sense and is merely a rant. If you lady folk have anything to add to this ever-growing list, DO contact me. Answers on a postcard.

Love you

Toodles xx

Oops I did it again

Good evening bloggies!

I regret to say that this blog has a somewhat sombre theme, as you can probably tell by the title.
No, unfortunately I am not here to discuss the fact that I spilled juice over the work computer, or I washed my white work blouse with a red sock, or that I got a parking ticket and a flat tyre in the same day. One could only hope, folks.

I did a terrible thing, and the only reason I am discussing it with you is because when I started my blog, I vowed to be honest, truthful, and to give an accurate representation of life for a cake chomping female in this day and age.

That terrible thing was kissing my ex boyfriend.

I KNOW! But alas, I couldn't help myself. You see, from the minute I clapped eyes on the wee bugger, I knew that it was going to happen. And I'll be honest, I did nothing to prevent it. Infact, I think I may have encouraged it. But that is irrelevant. It still happened, regardless of who's fault it was (mine).

Now I am in quite a pickle. I am crazy about him (or just crazy, whatever) and my brain is fried. I think he feels the same way, but unfortunately, there are too many factors in the mix for him to possibly get re-involved, who knows. And I know what you're thinking. I am amazing - yes, I know - and why wouldn't he choose to be with you? I ask myself this every day, friends.

What to do in such a messy situation? Answers on a postcard please.

In other news, I got a new laptop - a MACBOOK PRO! Bought with my second month's hard-earned wage, and the single most expensive thing I think I have ever purchased in all my days. But I love him (yes, it IS a him) and I promise never to spill juice on this one. Or drop it and break the USB ports. I SWEAR.

Also, with the whole anxious ex boyfriendy messy situation, I have neglected the cakes. I know, this is so unlike me, being a curvaceous cake addict, but I cannot bring myself to touch a cake. Although I did have a chocolate mousse today at work, but that is neither here nor there. It is the cake we are concerned with, it being my screen name and all. I daren't touch the things lest I vomit them back up again. What will be next? Will I forget them altogether? Will I suddenly become a svelte size 8, munching nothing but celery and salsa dip and claiming how full I am after one rivita with a sliver of non-fat cream cheese?! This is not the life I want to live, therefore I must ask for your help on the matter of the ex boyfriend.

For now, my lovelies, I am off to lick my wounds and cry into my lettuce.
Love you

Toodles xx

Chris wanks in toilet avec laptop

Good day!

Apologies again for lack of blog - I have been vair vair busy and cannot summon up the energy to blog.
It seems we have a lot of catching up to do! I will try my best to remember everything.

It seems I may have given up blogging when I got drunk. Llody, Jizz and I went out for a night on the lash, and Llody, being a wonderful conversationalist, got talking to a random girl who works for the venue. She followed us around for most of the night, sparking off wonderings of whether or not she was barking up the incorrect tree in reference to Llody. This made us laugh a lot. However, in an intriguing turn of events, she is infact a lesbian who decided to be in love with JIZZ! Excellent. This provided much mirth.

We then put on our dancing footwear and travelled through the street in search of a nightclub. We came across the Hive, hole of Edinburgh and the place where neds go to die and drink tequilla. I got elbowed in the face and left.

We left the lesbian in the club, and then went to Opium. I saw two goths having sex under a pool table and then decided it was time I went home.

We did.

Llody: When I am drunk in a taxi with my friends, we call the taxi driver Rumplestiltskin. May we call you Rumplestiltskin?

Taxi Driver: How about Rapunzel? Heh heh.

Llody: No. Rumplestiltskin is fine.

Taxi Driver: Eh... aye, awright then. That's ten pounds ninety please.

Jodie: Jizz and I have a tenner, Llody. Do you have ninety pence?

Llody: *throws money at glass screen* Take your eleventy pounds, Rumplestiltskin! *skips off into the night*

Excellent.

Other things that we has done on our holidays:

1) Went to see The Ginge, The Geordie and The Geek. We laughed a bit and I ate an apple and got my picture taken with a cow.

2) Chris moved into the campervan and had a wank in the showers. Told us later. We were a bit sick.

3) Had another night out and watched an Indian film outside. Llody was racist and we went home with paella (not a person).

4) Went to see Naked Splendour and drew a fat, naked man. Did not see penis. Only extra skin. Did draw good pictures though.

5) Had two cupcakes. One chocolate, one carrot. Carrot was rubbish. Chocolate was yummy.

6) Wore a pretty dress to town one day. Went for lunch with Jizz and dropped tomato-covered prawns on pretty dress. Now minging dress.

7) Ugly Ginger fell down backstage. Laughed A LOT and gave myself a headache. Went for a wee and missed the bows.

8) BOUGHT A FILOFAX!

9) Got too excited about stationary.

10) Played charades with Llody. He was totally shit so we laughed at him for approx. 20mins.

11) Had a fight with a lady over a free cup of tea (if you're reading, bitch, I'm not giving you 75-fucking-p for a cup of hot water).

12) Had at least 783 crepes and nutella.

13) Took Llody to see a musical. He liked it a lot.

14) Got free ginger beer from a party bus. Ugly Ginger looked like my nan at a wedding. Tried to leave her on bus. She found us.

15) Chris peed in a lucozade bottle. It is still on shelf.

16) Discovered Chris has a Boots meal deal every day. Scorns us when we do not get one.

17) Chased a dog into a hedge. Owner turned up. Made us watch while it caught sticks. Awkward, as I had just shouted that it was shitting in the bushes.

18) Ugly Ginger bought a banana guard (we thought it was a sexual device)

19) Chris took a picture of his pubes on my camera when drunk. Found next day. Was sick.

20) Emptied wee out of campervan. Ugly Ginger spilled on shoes. Was VAIR funny.

I hope to keep entertaining you!

Love you

Toodles xx

Day Five - the cow licking incident

Hello everyone!

I'm sure you're all extremely intrigued about the blog title. And don't you worry - it's a good 'un.
We were walking to get our bus yesterday morning in preparation for another full day of flyering and we walked past the field with the two highland cows in. We decided to be all touristy and get our picture taken with the cows. If you've not seen a highland cow before, I'll put a picture on my blog - they're gorgeous!
Anyway, we were standing there, posing for our photos, and a cow bent down, stuck its head through the fence, and licked ALL THE WAY up Llody's leg. It was the best moment of my life, and we were hit by a stroke of luck because I caught it on camera!! Excellent. I'll upload some Edinburgh photos up on to the blog soon.

So then we got into Edinburgh, and again went flyering on the mile. We were so hyper, that it seemed that we were physically - and mentally - unable to sell the show, so were screaming things like, 'PERFECT SHREDDER TESTER!', and 'EXCELLENT FREE BIN LINER!'

We decided to go and see a show on at C Venues called 'Sordid Lives' - it's set in Texas and centres around the death of an elderly lady who's had a sexual encounter with a young woman's husband. Sort of like a tacky Eastenders. Long story short, it was horrific - the tech was awful, for one thing. The best thing in it was a drag queen miming to Tammy Wynette, which says something, I feel.

Off we trotted to Pizza Hut. We had a lovely tea. Our other techie, Jizz, walked in on an old Chinese lady having a wee. Much laughter.

Then on with the show! We had an even BIGGER audience, and it went incredibly well. It was a huge comfort to see our tutor in the audience too - I think that gave us the support we needed. Not only that, but the Young Dads came to watch! They are the most beautiful people I think I've ever seen.

To complete a great day, we played Jenga over a couple of ciders, and fell asleep.

Keep reading, and thanks for the support!

Love you

Toodles xx

This is the part where we dance

Morning campers!

Well, it was opening night last night and the average audience is meant to be 3.

We had 30!!! And, The Scotsman came to review us! It was the best it could have gone, and we really couldn't have done it without so much support from everyone, and we really are eternally grateful!

Anyway, Llody decided to show us his sex face in a rather boring moment in a bar pre-show. We questioned it, and he said "well, I can't control myself during a state of euphoria". I do love him.

We also met the Young Dads again last night, and they're coming to see us tonight, before going out for some drinks. Llody has brought his best frock to wear, and we are all very excited.

I had a crepe yesterday that had nutella in it from the C Venues bar - it was delicious! If any of you are coming to see us, go to the C Bar on Chambers Street before the show and get one - you won't regret it!

Sorry this has been a bit short, I'll do a good one tomorrow :) love you

Toodles xx

Day Three - Llody goes into the studio

Morning bloggies!

We had an absolute ball yesterday - mostly because of Llody. He woke himself up by making a loud, sexual noise in his sleep - God only knows what he was dreaming out. Maybe the hot man he met in the toilets, who knows. We went to Fringe Central, which is fucking MILES across Edinburgh, and sorted out all the press and marketing shizzle, before having our dinner and being general layabouts for about two hours, after our late night previous.

We also bought tickets for Showstoppers - the improvised musical - for Tuesday, so I'll let you know how that goes.
Anyway then we went to our venue to sort out some bits and bobs for opening night, and hilarity ensued. This is where I feel I must explain to you about Llody.

Llody firmly believes that he is in the cast of Chicago, and decided that he would perform a little dance number in the middle of the box office, which included the lines, "we go, into the starjumps, then Llody goes, into the studio..." And so on. This provoked much staring and annoyance from other audience members which made us laugh even more!

High and giddy from Llody's entertainment, we decided to use our C Venues passes (which get us free into C Venues shows) to go and see The Young Dads - a comedy musical duo. Ugly Ginger and I had met a cast member yestrday - a man from Boston called Micah, who, in my personal opinion, had an extremely gorgeous accent and face on him. So off we trotted, and we enjoyed them very much. So much, that we bought their CD and are going out for drinks with them next week.

Note to bloggies: their show is right before ours at 7.20pm in the same venue, so go see them and bask in their gorgeousness.

All of the team then returned to the caravan, where Llody just rambled on again with his beautiful tales of his musical life - comparing himself to Jessica Rabbit, as he pokes his leg out of his sleeping bag as she does with her dress - and a marathon length of giggling fits presented itself, rendering us useless for a good 45 minutes.

It was then time to give Chris and his lady friend - Mrs Chris - a lift home. As I am still angry from the event - and it is nearly time to alight the bus - I shall make this brief.

We got lost.

For two hours.

I cried. Lots.

I then booted them out the car and demanded they get a taxi before I killed them.

And then I went to sleep.

So here we are, on Day Four and opening night!

Stay tuned to see how it goes for Honeybus Productions, and a continued thanks for all your support and kind messages!
Keep reading!

Love you

Toodles xx

Day Two - tramps, blood and rock and roll

Morning campers!

The sun has risen on day three in camp fringe - actually, it rose before we even went to bed. We had our dress rehearsal last night. Half twelve til half four. Let me tell you, THAT was an experience. First, however, we must not be keen beans and you must listen to my tales of the day.

We awoke, eager to get into Edinburgh and pick up our flyers and programmes. We had a little bit of sorting of props to do first. Ugly Ginger and I had to find some alcohol for our chav sketch, and ever so luckily, Hot Homo - our techie - found a bottle of Merlot in the van - excellent! Obviously, what with Ugly Ginger being Ugly Ginger, she had to double check this for herself, which provoked her to say, "oh thank God! Is it red merlot?" What a dick.

So then off we ventured to get the bus, our hearts bursting with anticipation and our heads filled with expectations.

First stop, to collect our bus passes for the week. Nothing interesting happened there.

Then we went to C Venues and collected our passes which get us in for free to shows at C Venues and get us cheap alcohol. Much hilarity then ensued. I shall let you into a secret - Hot Homo's real name is Lloyd. They had named him LLody. Excellent. That is now his name.

So we had a wander around the Royal Mile, seeing many interesting sights, and stopped for lunch in Hunters Square at a little cafe called Chocolate Soup.

It is here that I must express my love for all things chocolatey. But I'm sure you already knew this. I had the most beautiful chicken and vegetable soup with a chicken salad roll. I felt like the happiest person on Earth, what with all the flavours and things. AND THEN... I had a brownie. And it was no ordinary brownie. It was a chocolatey, rich, soft, sumptuous, creamy brownie, drizzled in dark and white chocolate, with malteasers and smarties on top. If I had died at that very moment, I would have died a very happy girl indeed.

Then we met Chris and our publicity and marketing manager, Posh Totty Wade. We had a wander around the Royal Mile and decided to queue for tickets to see "The Ginge, The Geordie and The Geek", a comedy trio who Ugly Ginger and I had been to see the previous year. After waiting for an hour, we discovered they were sold out. Fuck my life.
However, it wasn't wasted time. We had Ugly Ginger coin some moronic wonderings such as, "Jodie, what's a troupe? Is it three people? How d'you say it, is it troupay?"

Then we came back and did some food shopping, then headed off to rehearsal. Everything that could have gone wrong, went wrong. It is now that I come to the next segment in my blog:

Things They Don't Tell You In The Edinburgh Fringe Handbook

1) You will see a smashed beer bottle with blood pouring from it, and if Llody is there, he will say, "I didn't realise Becks was crimson."

2) There are tramps in Edinburgh. 97% of them have dogs - most often, terriers.

3) One of said tramps will be waiting in a wheelchair with a non-disabled accomplice, whilst they rake through the bins.

4) The venue you are rehearsing in is a sweaty shit tip.

5) You will argue.

6) Things will go horrifically wrong, and Ugly Ginger and I will be backstage, hiding, stuffing our faces with doughnuts.

7) If you use a fat suit in your piece, it will go missing, and you will search the venue high and low for it for hours. Only for it to be in the toilet of your campervan.

8) If you are returning from your rehearsal at 5am, Ugly Ginger will attempt to break into the caravan like a criminal, and the security alarm WILL go off.

I hope this has been a merry read. Keep reading and showing your support! Love you

Toodles xx

The fatty has landed

So here we are. The day has finally come. We have landed in Edinburgh at the Fringe Festival... And I have already cracked open the biscuits. Excellent.

I had to work a 7am-3pm shift yesterday morning (ugh) and then drive straight here to check in at the campsite. And for fellow fatties, I feel it is my duty to let you know that we went to this amazing little pub on the campsite called the Stable Bar that does epic food, and I had chicken and ham pie - officially Edinburgh's ambrosia.

Anyway, we checked in, set up the campervan, and Ugly Ginger, Mr. Pricklepants and I went off to see Shappi Khorshandi at the Pleasance Courtyard. And we were 15 minutes late. We missed the bus, had to leg it across Edinburgh in the PISSING rain (as I misjudged the stops and got off three to early out of fear) and had to get hurried in through the backdoor. You might think this was exciting. It was not. Anyway she was good, blah blah funny blah.


Then we visited C Venues, the building where we are performing. Officially terrified, by the way. It's just show after show. And everyone is walking about with scary faces, plugging their shows and generally being pushy. We're going to have to do this, and this is why I am glad I'm working with the ultimate force that is Ugly Ginger - pushy, ruthless and determined, she will drag the audience in by their hair. Excellent.

I shall make sure to keep you all updated with Fringe related things, food I've had and other tales.

I shall end on one thing.

Lloyd - "I want to be taken to a haggissery."

(we can get haggis, neeps and tatties for a fiver beside our venue.)

Please support us at the Fringe! I promise I will provide cups of tea and cake for well-wishers.

Toodles xx

Yawn and such things

Good evening readers,

Apologies for the lack of posts recently - very busy times have begun! We are well on our way to having everything ready for the Edinburgh Fringe and it has been knackering, not to mention full time work ALSO, but the less said about work work work the better, and more about fun things!

So. Last night, Ugly Ginger, Mr Pricklepants, Petit Filous Bear, Chris, Kent Fancy and I went to this Turkish restaurant last night. I had this lamb thing with mash and rice. Kleftiko I think it's called, and OH MY GOD. Waaaaaaw. It's all I can think about. We also had shisha - raspberry to be exact. Anyway, it was lovely and I got very pissed. Excellent time all around.

The chavvy flatmates kicked off last night and all. They were shouting and screaming and throwing plates, and not in a good, Greek celebratory way. In an angry, violent, I-might-kill-you way. But anyway, I can't be arsed.

Now, this has been short and slightly rude, I expect, but I am EXHAUSTED. Pinky promise I'll give you a good one soon, stalkers.

Toodles xxx

The aliens have landed. Thanks to baby Jesus and all his little menfolk!

Petit Filous Bear has officially published her blog. http://152daystillondonandcounting.blogspot.com/

Yes, indeedy. She is that sad.

Love you all, bloggies. I'm going to eat some biscuits in a quiet place. xxx

OMGGGGGMGMGMGGHGHHGGH

PETIT FILOU BEAR HAS A BLOG. Hang on to yer knick-knackers - I can't tell whether this is going to be exceptionally wonderful or marvellously shit.

Stay tuned peeps.

Nom nom nom...

Delish...

Bonsoir bloggies,

I hope you are all well. Apologies for my lack of blogging these past couple of days - I have been extremely busy and sleepy!
You see, I work at a hotel in Gretna Green, wedding capital of the UK. Do not be disillusioned and think that I know a lot about weddings, however - on the contrary. I know nowt. I work on the reception. And these past few days have been very stressful. The Brummies have officially landed in Gretna Green, with a gang of annoying, snotty-nosed, shitty little children, who, for some unknown reason, are leaving sausage sandwices ALL OVER the hotel. I found at least six on my way to make a cup of tea this morning.
Anyway anyway anyway, the stress came from these little 'wipes playing with the lift, incessantly. I come to work this morning. Cue at least seven hundred little bastards running towards me, screaming.
Jodie: "Sorry guys, could you be a bit quieter so the rest of the guests can get some sleep?"
Little shits: "Noooo, we wont to ploaaayyyy." (Me typing Brummie.)
Jodie: "I understand that, but you need to be a bit quieter because you're very loud."
LS: "Fock ooffff."
Jodie: "Excuse me, don't talk like that, I'm sure your mum wouldn't appreciate that kind of language."
LS: "Well she's not gonna heaur eet cos we're gonna plauy een the leeft."
Jodie: "It's not a toy."
LS: "Yees it ees."
Jodie: "It's not though, is it?"
LS: "Yees it ees."
Jodie: "It isn't."
LS: "Fock oofff."
Jodie: "Fine. Play in the lift. But if it breaks, don't blame me."
LS: "Foine."
So they ran away to play in the lift. And it broke. And I left them locked in it for half an hour before ringing the fire brigade. I believe that this exercise was character building, and was needed to teach them a lesson.
Their parents did not agree.
Oh well.
Fuck it.

Anyway, in conclusion, I'm tired. Partly because I work full time at child-torture. But also because of Fringe rehearsals! Hooray!
They're going extremely well. As I think I've mentioned previously, we hired an elderly man to play the main part in our show, and he is incredible! So do me a fav and book your tickets.

Now, I may seem rather pretentious here, but I want to link you a website! Kent Fancy showed me this today, and I think it's really cool. http://www.postsecret.com/ is this website where people can send in their homemade postcards with a secret of theirs on them. It's meant to be an art exhibition/experiement thingy, and I think it's pretty amazing, so I reccommend you look at it, if you have a spare 5 minutes to kill.

I am currently watching '500days of Summer'. It really is rather good - one of my favourite films actually, and it stars the absolutely sickeningly, knee-tremblingly, be sick out of my face gorgeous Joseph Gordon Levitt. Google him. And let the magic happen. I would just like to state that he is my idea of a perfect man: tall, dark, handsome, quiet, brooding, intelligent, likes good music, and is very interesting. If anyone knows of where I can find someone like him, please contact me. If you are this person (and I am aware someone like him exists) please hurry up and fall in love with me. Ta, greatly appreciated.

I'm off for now - I need to soak up JGL while I can.

Toodles, xxx

Neil Miller's Shite Joke of the Day

A man and a giraffe walk into a bar. They sit down, and the man orders two pints - one for him, and one for the giraffe.
The barman says, "Oi! Surely that isn't wise."
The man says, "What?"
He replies, "Giving that animal a pint!"
The man says, "Oh it's fine. He can handle his drink. Two more pints, please."
They drink and drink all evening. At closing time, the man is very tipsy, but the giraffe is wasted, and falls off his bar stool.
The man gets up to leave, and the barman calls after him, "Excuse me! You can't leave that lying around here!"
The man replies, "It's a giraffe, not a fucking lion!"

Hello readers,

Day Two of fringe rehearsals commenced today. And they were good. Not really much to say in regards to this, but to be honest, if you really care that much, read Ugly Ginger's blog. Although what I will say is this. Lunchtime was marvellous - Chris bought a cajun chicken baguette. I saw it. I liked it. I bought my own. I ate it. And boy, was I satisfied (it had cucumber on it and EVERYTHING). It's important to discuss food, as it is such a big part of my life (and most of your lives, I'd assume, considering you're still with us).

Anyway, considering that I am selling myself as an accurate reflection of the 'modern girl', I expect that I am required to discuss relationship related things. I'll quickly cover the grounds of my flatmates, as I talk about (and will be talking about) them often.

Mr Prickepants has been single for about a year. Nothing really much to elaborate on, to be honest.
Ugly Ginger has been with her boyfriend for nearly 2 years, and they are sickeningly happy. He recently moved down south and is doing a graphic design placement in London. Eurgh is all.
Petit Filou Bear was with her boyfriend for a year and a half before they split up, due to him being a cheating arsehole who didn't know how good he had it. She is now sleeping with someone on the side, fulfilling her slag potential. I am so proud.
Now, for myself! I have been single since April (please, no sympathy) after a serious relationship that lasted about a year.
Also, I would like to point out, there are NO MEN in Carlisle. Once the four of us move down to London, fingers crossed there will be some talent. I know for a fact there is some, I just have to find it.

Sorry for today's rubbish post - I am immensly tired and cannot summon up the strength to write anything of interest.

Much love bloggies, mwah xxx

Ugly Ginger's ear-sucking

You heard that correctly.

Ugly Ginger gets her ear sucked by Mr Pricklepants. Apparently it's comforting.
Me? This is an invasion of my sanity.

Get me out of Carlisle.

Neil Miller's Shite Joke of the Day

Why does Snoop Dogg carry an umbrella?

Fo' drizzle ma nizzle!

Fringey fringe fringe

Hello blogging world,

I feel that after our productive start to yesterday's blogging fun, in all the excitement I forgot to go into detail about the Edinburgh Fringe Festival, and as you have the decency to read my blog, I should probably fill you in, and I hope you forgive me for being so rude.

During our final degree year, Ugly Ginger and I joined forces to create a show of epic comedy proportions. We wrote a series of sketches set on a bus and decided to make them into a play, where a bus driver named John is the central character who links all the sketches. The play is set on his last day before retirement after 52 years on the buses and he tells the tale of his life and the people he's seen, thus giving us reason to perform our sketches.
And so, Route 52 was born. We performed it for a module, and got picked to perform it at the Edinburgh Fringe Festival in August 2010. For those of you who are unaware, the Fringe is a massive theatre and comedy festival which runs throughout the entirety of August in the middle of Edinburgh and is where a lot of actors and theatre practitioners get their 'big break', for lack of a better phrase.

Of course, us not being humans what with big heads, I must explain that it isn't all about Ugly Ginger and myself - another show also got picked to go too, called A Perfect Honeymoon. This is where I introduce my great chums, Kent Fancy and Chris (KF is very posh, is a cake-loving lady like myself, and is obviously from the wonderful, magical place of Kent, and Chris is from Bolton. He is more commonly known by a nickname, therefore it seems inappropriate to give him another nickname, so for all intents and purposes, we shall call him by his Christian name, Chris. Sorry for my lack of imagination, folks). Their show is about a couple of newlyweds who are off on their honeymoon, and it all goes tits-up, to be honest. However, it is very funny, promise.

Anyway anyway anyway, I really think that you should search for us on http://www.edfringe.com/ and book tickets, because our shows are funny.

NOW. This is where it gets interesting (I know, hard to believe, but really I'll try and keep you interested). We had an actor called Man-With-Drill (MWD). He was quite good at the part, but to be honest, not my cup of tea (dick) and we had many a cross exchange. The long and short of it is, he pulled out of the show (excellent, really. I tried to imagine what it would feel like if the glove was on the other hand and I would have pulled out too, if I knew that I was not a very nice person).
So, Ugly Ginger and I had to find someone to replace him. We found John (he is a magical man and thus a nickname is not worthy enough for his God-like stature), an elderly gentleman from Edinburgh, and asked him to play the part. He travelled to Carlisle today and we rehearsed with him, and I can safely say that he is marvellous and MWD had better be full of sorrow and regret and apologies and be eating humble pie.

So there.

On another type of fringey fringe fringe, Ugly Ginger has asked me to cut her fringe for her, as she has been blinded in one eye by her own ginger strands of wonderment (hair, for the ones less fond of the fantastical explanations), so after a tiring day of rehearsal and bus-related activities, that is what I am doing with my evening.

Anyway, I expect one day soon I will upload a blog with some sort of content that relates to me alone in some way, but for now, night night and God speed.

Mwah xxx

Neil Miller's Shite Joke of the Day

Knock knock

Who's there?

You know.

You know who?

YES! AVADA KEDAVERA!

Stay tuned for more of Neil Miller's wonderfully shit jokes. xxx

Losing my blogging virginity

Well hello readers/friends/stalkers/spies (if you're out there...),

My pal The Ugly Ginger has recently started blogging and I thought I'd give it a bash, so here we are. I am The Cake Chomper and I am here to offer a modern girl's perspective on all things moden, whilst throwing in odd quipps and tales regarding cake and confectionary. I fancy myself as a fat Carrie Bradshaw, with less shoes and more empty wine bottles. But that is neither here nor there. Let me explain a bit about myself.

I am 21 and living in one of Britain's many hell-holes - Carlisle. I have a pretty average family who live in an average house back in Scotland. I have a chronic passion for all things sweet and cake-like, and I am extremely guilty of indulging in one too many vodkas on a night out on the town and doing very silly things - more of this in my future blogs I expect. I live with my three insane flatmates - The Ugly Ginger (who, of course, is not ugly at all but terribly beautiful, with impeccable fashion sense and an excellent sense of humour - not to mention breasts that grew 3 cupsizes over night. Bitch), Petit-Filou Bear (my other female flatmate who seems capable of surviving on nothing but children's yoghurt and the occasional vodka) and Mr. Pricklepants (our only male flatmate, who's hobbies include walking in on us in the shower/toilet/whilst we are changing, singing opera and anything manufactured by Apple). We are... an ecclectic bunch to say the least, but we fit together like a dysfunctional jigsaw.
We met whilst 'studying' (used extremely loosely) for our Performing Arts degrees. We all arrived fresh faced and eager to begin in September of 2007. We packed our little napsacks with jazz shoes, dictaphones and complete works of William Shakespeare and went to our first lesson, shaking with anticipation and keen to perform some of the greatest plays ever written.
Instead, we met John Topping, the course leader, who was smacked off his tits from red wine and marajuana and asked us to "stand in a line... and boogie". We emptied our napsacks of our jazz shoes, dictaphones and complete works of William Shakespeare, and instead filled them with vodka, condoms and glowsticks.
The three of us were united, as we did not fit ANYWHERE. Ugly Ginger is stunningly beautiful, but ruins it for herself with her farting, burping and crude jokes, thus making her unable to be friends with pretty dancers. Mr Pricklepants is male, and... occasionally plays Fifa and things, but sings opera at the top of his voice and can put his legs behind his head, therefore he doesn't gain many invites to the pub and football. Petit-Filou bear is very pretty and smart, but has a great desire to run away with the circus and can't hold a conversation for more than 30 seconds, so no intelligent people can be arsed with her. And myself? I am none of these things, but because I am so thigh-slappingly hilarious and beautiful and kind and considerate, I took these three misfits under my wing, and we formed our little gang.

So, this is how we came to be.

Basically, I decided to start my blog to make people laugh and also as a kind of therapy, to bitch about my friends without naming their names and rant about my job. I didn't want to get a blog to be pretentious, and post links of interesting things that people should look at. If you want it, google it or something - if you're on my blog, READ MY BLOG, I'M INTERESTING!

I'm leaving out a very important fact about my life, here. I want to be a comedian. Well, I should say comedienne, technically. I have wanted to do this for nearly my whole life, as I love to make people laugh, and I think I'm quite good at it, actually. I have recently discovered that Ugly Ginger and I are really rather good at doing this together, so we decided to form a little duo, and put on a show at the Edinburgh Fringe Festival this year (2010, for all you hermits and time travelers). It's about life on buses and things. It's really good and we got a first for it (up yours). I hope I'm selling it to you (book tickets on http://www.edfringe.com/ and search 'Route 52', plug plug plug).

Anyway, this is it for my little scene-setting post. I promise that next time I'll be a little less self-indulgent and write some good things. I just felt that if we were to continue on this journey together, you ought to know a reasonable amount about me, so you know what I'm saying... you understand?

I hope you will read more of my posts in the future, oh oh, and look up my pal The Ugly Ginger. She writes about what she's had for her tea. Gripping stuff.

Nighty night xxx