» Schadenfreude

Tescos- "Every little helps". How ironic.
I turn into a gasping, weeping, shrieking mess when someone even just stumbles over slightly, but the closest I've ever come to shitting myself laughing at someone else's misfortune is back around three years now, when we took a family trip to Tesco. My gran, aunty, her two kids and I were making our way back to Chesterfield (Shit hole) after spending the weekend in Lincoln.

We'd stopped off in Tesco's, and my smallest cousin was sat in those stupid, uncomfortable child seats at the front of the trolley that my gran was pushing. Bit of a tangent now, my gran's like the nicest woman in the world. She'd take Josef Fritzl in and call him a "nice, misunderstood man" if the chance ever came around. This is why what happened was so brilliant. Being pushed about backwards, my tiny little terror of a cousin looks over my gran's shoulder and sees someone with dwarfism going down the same isle, walking straight in front of her mum. What does any little kid do when they see someone slightly different for the first time? They point and laugh, which is exactly what my cousin did. She got the whole of the isle staring at her whilst she outstretched her chubby little arm and screamed at the top of her lungs "LOOK AT THAT STUPID SMALL WOMAN! HAHAHA! LOOK AT THOSE SILLY LEGS!".

Now my gran may be nice but she's also thick. She sees my cousin doing this, and turns round. Doesn't see the victim of my cousin's verbal tirade, just my aunty Vicky. Afterwards, when I endured the most awkward car ride of my life, my gran INSISTED she thought my cousin was laughing at her. I could of guessed that, but the horrified members of the public that witnessed it didn't. Neither did the woman with dwarfism. All they saw was my gran, grinning like a twat, point her hand straight in the direction of the dwarf and shouting "Hahahaha! Why did they let her out the house! What a fool!".

Tesco's, the fucking whole of Tesco's, went deadly silent. I think some man might've dropped his eggs he was that shocked. My aunty actually covered her face. And I think that was when my gran realised she'd just brutally mocked a disabled person without even meaning to.

She felt terrible; it was all she talked about for ages.
Fucking funny though.
(Thu 17th Dec 2009, 21:08, More)

» Performance

I go to Uni in a very shit city called Preston.
It's got all the chavs of Manchester, but none of the charm, and it's just a bit grim.

My accomodation is almost as lovely as the city. If you live on one side of the building you get the graceful view of a concrete carpark full of tosser-businessmen 4x4s and Mini Coopers. The other side faces a funeral home. Guess which side I lived in last year?

A couple of months back I had to get up for a horrifically early lecture, and actually felt good about myself at what felt like the dawn of time for quite a while. Springing out of bed, clad in my oldest, grimmest underwear, I went to the mirror to survey the damage from a night of hardly any sleep. I actually looked passable. Today could be good, I thought to myself, and started to get ready.

I put the radio on, and Shania Twain's 'Man I Feel Like a Woman' came on. It was relevant. I have boobs. I don't look like a creature from the black lagoon. Shania was obviously channeling me when she wrote this masterpiece of pop.

It's then that things took a turn for the dark. I decided that, feeling spring fresh, I'g go for a bit of a kareoke session and dance around my room. Armed with an empty bottle of vodka and my best David Brent impression, I twirled around my room with the rejected choreography from Kate Bush's Wuthering Heights video.

Half way through an ambitious pirouette, I saw them. Noses to the window, breath fogging up the glass, were the undertakers from across the road. I froze in horror, leg still stuck half way up in the air. This couldn't get any worse. I'm in my laundry day underwear, and there's two pervy funeral men sneering at me.

As it turns out, it could get worse. They were carrying a coffin between them to the herse parked about thirty meters away.

I would make a pun at this point about making them feel stiff in certain areas with my moves, but I'm pretty sure the DEAD BODY they were carrying made up for it.

Length? About as long as the curtains I bought on eBay that afternoon.
(Mon 22nd Aug 2011, 22:26, More)

» I don't understand the attraction


Fucking True Blood.
Just no. If I wanted to see two people with stupid accents, covered in blood, and giving each other a good knobbing then I'd go round Sheffield on a Saturday night.
(Mon 19th Oct 2009, 18:50, More)