1.3.10

Glamour

One of life's little pleasures is definitely getting my Glamour magazine every month - obsessed much, with my two year subscription! As I went into the hall to pick it up earlier, my Dad says to me, "Looks like there's a free gift in it this time!", which was a nice surprise, seeing as they nicely conned me out of a free gift last month, I was not impressed.

GLAMOUR
April 2010

Anyway, as I opened up it's lovely, cheap, plasticky wrapping, all was revealed.
'Intensively Glossy Rescue Treatment Scandalous' by James Brown. What an absolute babe! So obviously I am hugely thankful to the man for providing me with such a hair luxury, mmm, I may send him a saucy picture of me using it in the bath . . . bet he'd really love that. For those of you who do not know me, and for those of you who do, but think it's something I may genuinely do, I dont actually believe that he personally sent me the hair product, hense my gratitude possibly being misplaced. Whatever.

As I was flicking through the pages, as you do when you first open a magazine, c'mon, no one actually first opens it and starts from the beginning, every experienced magazine reader knows you flick through it first, get the feel of the months edition, obviously. So, it was as I was doing this, that my eyes fell across a beauty of a page, and more importantly to this beauty of a section.
'Love him, love his freaky sex thing - you're really into him, but that thing he does in bed . . . hello?' - so freaking jokes! It's like a crisis guide about 'what to do' if he does certain things, for example, lasts 30 seconds, or worse, lasts forever, or, and this is the best one:

You're not alone lads

Made me laugh, I bet so many women turned to that page like - oh my god, finally! The best reference in the text has to be the 'making his tiddler feel more like a whopper'. Ha bloody ha!

For those of you who want to be in the know for what's hot and what's not, I'll give you children a piece of my knowledge.
Long strap bags, clogs, bright colours, day clutches, tough wedges, tribal, summer boots, fringed bags, gold flats, retro sunnies, sorbet colours and satchels.
Nice little list for you there (courtesy of 'fast glamour').
I quite like the sound of most of those, especially fringing and tribal, which goes nicely with the nudes which are in this season, but I'm sorry, I cannot fathom clogs. They look ridiculous. The pictures of them in the feature just would make any girl look like they accidently forgot their shoes and had to make do with a hunk of shapeless wood instead. Definitely not a fan.

Talking of things I'm not a fan of, I'd like to add a number of things to the list, the ever-growing list. And believe me, this has taken a lot of thinking about, because today has been a lovely day, and I've laughed a lot. Cackled a lot. 0800-Sh1t-Laugh-448
What annoyed me today however, was the realisation that the river of life never runs smoothly - ha, god, what a ponce I sound like; it's that bloody English Literature A-level I'm taking . . . But yeah, it really does bug me.
Today the sun was out, the wine was pouring (that's a figure of speech, obviously, despite what you've heard about my antics, drinking at school is possibly taking it a bit to far, although I wouldnt even put it past myself . . .) anyway! What has annoyed me today, is that there are too many people who are either a) too bitchy or b) too sensitive or c) too self absorbed. Granted, we all have our bad days, and I did have a 'bad day' which lasted about a month, and true girls (sorry boys) do have periods which is often a good excuse for an emotional, and messy, week, but still - it just that it makes me sad that things cant be perfect. I think, sadly, that is why I am currently in Singletown. Because Freddy Mclair doesnt exist - the point being that he's not perfect because he's not real.

Freddy looking fed up because he cant be with me 24/7

So, people, I have come up with the perfect cure. If ever you feel in a bad mood, listen to Ellie Goudling - it'll either make you cry, in which case, that's good, cause you've let out the bad juices, or it'll put you in a great mood.

And the whole time I've been writing this, I completley forgot I had a cup of tea, and now it's cold. I may have to post that on 'fuck my life', the website.

Tea re-heating, loving and leaving.

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