Monday 30 July 2012

Twitter hooker

Sunburn is making me so itchy. I'd hate to be a dog with fleas. Aftersun forevs though innit bbz. Literally burnt the crap out of my neck, and the worst thing was, I was actually wearing sun cream. Uneffingbelievable.
Oh yeah and I've seriously gone over to the dark side of social networking. That being twitter, obvs. Use the thing between your ears, blimey. 
https://twitter.com/injurypronebird
Go on. Yolo ;)


Summer spent largely back in the 'shire hasn't been as dull as expected. It only used to be my time in London that was ridiculously awkward and sodding embarrassing. However it appears karma doesn't wanna play ball. Cheers.


SO FUCKING ITCHY. 


Maybe I have fleas? Ew. Not even amusing.


Hate saying things when I'm drunk that I actually mean. As if the hangovers weren't bad enough. Having the world spinning for the entire day isn't what I deem exactly a jaunt in a theme park.
Assaulted by one of my bosses as well. Looks like I won't be able to work in that particular shithole of a hotel again. Not that it really matters. Sketchley Grange: http://www.sketchleygrange.co.uk/ is quite possibly the shittest and most appalling place to go. Not only does it get numerous complaints on a daily basis, treat their staff like shit and now I can honestly say, sexually harass them. Do we get paid? Oh you absolute joker! Of course we don't get paid. The owners are bankrupt, indeed the vast majority of their businesses have gone bankrupt. Poor business management and the fact their cunts doesn't really emphasise a brilliant institution. And tbf, being paid less than minim wage WHEN we eventually get paid just ain't kosher pal!


Whingey McWhingerson. Eat. Your fucking heart out.


I have so many shoes. I love my shoes. And short shorts. I could fucking live in short shorts and giant jumpers. And onesies. OH ONESIES. Mother calls them giant baby grows. And what bbz? Maybe I like to pretend I'm still a kid.
Getting oldddddddddddddddddddd man. Nearly a fifth of a century. Christ.


I think I'm getting prematurely mature. I want to get married. So badly. Bloody nora, like anyone's gonna be able to cope with me. 
SO hope I win the lottery. The literal one as well as the one with men. Innit ;)


Burnt McBurnterson.
Ain'it.