Morning tears!

I started today bawling me eyes out whilst sat in bed with a brew (a cup of tea for all you lunatics thinking I mean booze) and no not because I had to go to work (I love my job) or because it was lashing down with rain (I love the rain, it creates duck baths) or that I realized my hair wasn’t a nightmare and I did in fact go for an impromptu hair appointment last night (I don’t love my hair, I fuckin hate it. I look like a monk). So what did make me cry? Teddy bears, yep you read that right cuddly talking teddy bears had me bawling my eyes out.

Go on watch it, I dare ya. See if those little fuckers make you cry!

It’s a great Christmas advert actually (fab work Heathrow) and yes, I was in bed with me brew watching Christmas adverts on YouTube. I start most of my mornings like this or listening to Christmas tunes whilst getting ready for work, I can’t help it I love Christmas!

I also found a Granddad this morning which has made my day. In addition to listening to Christmas music and watching Christmas adverts, I also read the Hate Mail in the morning. Don’t judge, I know it’s a terrible rag but I can’t help it and it informs me of really important things like how Megs (me mate) actually wanted a different tiara to the one she wore at her wedding but our Lizzie (me BFF) told her to pee off and that she would get what she was given.

Oops went off a bit then, back to my new Granddad. He’s called David, he’s 85, lives in Lancashire, is in a choir and is such a lovely fella.  His Instagram account went viral on Twitter when some bird called Tasha shared it and he now has 58.4k adopted Grand kids!! He started on Instagram to document his journey on Slimming World and is proper chuffed to be getting all this attention. Go and check   Granddad David’s  Insta account out and become part of the family!

Thank you for reading!

BritBirdVanCity x

 

 

 

Almost a Five…..

So I read that Uber may ban Australian and New Zealand customers if their rating goes below a 4. I read this with much interest and mixed feelings. Part of me thinks well some people can be right nobs and to have them in close confines for even the shortest amount of time can be challenging; add the drunks, the talkers and the high and mighty and fuck there is no way I could/want to be an Uber driver. When I’m driving my car (well used to, I don’t own one now.

I live in Vancouver and it’s much cooler to be/appear poor AF and use public transport) I am in my fave place, it’s me, my music, a sold out arena and my fabulous doting fans (oh fuck off, it is MY fave place). I wouldn’t want to share that with some miserable c**t who feels entitled to a free ticket to my sold out event. Fuck off mate and buy a ticket, if ya name isn’t on the door, guess what love, you’re not coming in.

Anyways enough about me and back to my point………I will get there honest.  Okay, I was going to get there but thought I would check my Uber rating and I am happy to announce that I am a 4.79 woop woop, check me the fuck out I’m almost a 5. Lol since when has being a 5 been something to cheer about. Oh well done average Shelly, you basic bitch.

Okay let’s try again, pin ya ears back and grab the popcorn. I’ve mentioned that Black Mirror episode on Netflix called Nosedive before. It’s the one where the bird is trying to get to her friends wedding and everyone is going around rating each other out of 5 on their phones. Which you might think is far fetched and eye roll that we’re becoming too concerned about the time people spend on social media but is it actually?? People are creating fake times to impress other people or worse being in an actually awesome moment but spoiling it to grab their phones to let everyone know that they are having an awesome time. This weekend Mr C and I were at Skookum Festival and the magical fabulously awesome Florence & The Machine played. At one point Florence told everyone to put their phones away and be in the moment (as if you have to be told)!!

Fuck totally forgot where I was going with that, sorry me Chimp made an appearance and totally messed my train of thought up! Oh yeah, rating people! China are/have bringing in a Social Credit Score for their government officials and citizens, which will determine what services they can access. One dude is reportedly on a no fly list because his is shitty. You may think this is shocking (ah that’s where I was going, bare with me) but no it’s not, we do it every day, which is why when you like a pic on Instagram you just know it’s been snapped more than once or when you watch Insta stories, you know it doesn’t paint the full picture but you’ve provided someone with some sort of gratification because you’ve added to the number of folk who’s read their story.

So what would make a 5* rating? An elderly lady gets on my bus a few times a week, she brings with her a trolley stacked with bags of cans and plastic bottles which I’m assuming she takes to the depot and exchanges them for cash. All the regular commuters make room for her, giving up the fold away seats so she can get her trolley in and sit down herself. The non regular commuters are visibly offended that they are expected to give up their seats (but do so in fear of judgement) making a silent but obvious protest and trowing the old bird daggers whilst trying to balance their Starbucks and answer their emails at the same time (nightmare).

Who in this scenario would be a 5* citizen?  The elderly lady who is an obvious grafter, who can bounce daggers off her like Batman? The people who so graciously give up their seats to make room for the elderly lady? Or the people with faces like smacked arses trying to balance their Starbucks and answer their emails? I know who is 5* to me but don’t think everyone will feel the same……….

Oh and if you get a moment feel free to like, share, rate or comment. Hey I’m only human!!

 

Sit down right now!!

This was what was screamed at me and some fellow concert goers this weekend as we were bopping away (lol seriously, where did that word come from. Does anyone even say bopping anymore. Fuck I’m old).  This bird had gotten herself into a right tizzy and decided it would be a great idea to storm over and scream at a load of people in order to get what she wanted.

It was funny AF, she sounded like a Mum shouting at a bunch of kids, she spoke to us like she was speaking to a bunch of kids. So what was you “bopping” away to you might be wondering (or not if you follow me on Insta, so can now well imagine where this is going) was you at the symphony and blocking the view of the pleasantness, was it the ballet and you were spoiling the show because she couldn’t see the fabulous movements those lunatics can pull off. No, we were at a fuckin concert!!

This bird came over to a load of people at a concert screaming at us to sit down; she had obviously been sat there winding herself up for a while (or maybe I’m wrong and she is just a crazy bitch with a short fuse who doesn’t get out much) cursing us all and vowing to tweet Ed, Century Link Field and Mumsnet as soon as she got home to tell them all about everyone else who had ruined her night. Now you might think that she spoiled mine and everyone else’s night because we had to sit still so she could see and not dance (at a fuckin concert) but no, this flustered, mad as fuck bird bonded a group of randoms at a concert because of course we did what any sane adult would do in this oh so hilarious situation…….

We sat down, because yes we are grownups, well at least we were until the next song came on! It was almost like we all come together just to piss this bird off (which was likely what she was thinking) but we hadn’t (ok maybe we had just a little because we did all look at each other and laugh every time we stood up), we were at a concert and just wanted to dance! It got even funnier when Ed told everyone to get up  and dance!!

Some people might say, well you know it was a seated area and maybe she had her kids with her and maybe she did. If she did, all she achieved was showing them how not to problem solve, shouting doesn’t get you anywhere love. I’m not even paying attention to what you’re saying because it’s far more amusing how worked up you are.

So if you are going to a concert where there will be boppy (fuck off, it’s a good word) music, be prepared for people to stand up and don’t be that person who everyone is having a good laugh about because they lost their rag at a concert because people were stood up!!

 

You what love?!!

I was sat in the Slug & Lettuce in Manchester Piccadilly, a couple of glasses of wine in and struggling to keep my composure.  The tears were threatening to start falling and there was a sob inside me that was willing me to let it out. Why do you ask were you on the breaking point of an emotional break down? Did someone offend you? Was it actually happy emotions because you were back in Manchester and was able to go to the bar, order your massive glass of wine (with no fucker judging because it’s a standard glass here) and not have to sit at a table waiting for a server, to tell them you would like a glass of wine, for them to tell someone else you would like a glass of wine, then have to wait for that person to pour the said wine, then wait on the server to bring it to you (I do love Canada but this irks the shit out of me).

Maybe it’s the stylish decor and the comfy seats or the delightful familiarity of being surrounded by people who get as drunk as you but it’s okay because it’s a laugh.  Maybe it’s tears of laughter because you witnessed a table of birds shoo a very drunk bloke away who was trying to convince them to sing happy birthday to his mate. Or could it be that someone came in wearing leggings on a Friday late afternoon, nah not in Manchester.

Ok, I can sense you are being impatient and want to know right now or maybe you don’t because I’ve waffled on for too long, so now you don’t give a fuck. Bye Felicia……

My niece made me cry, yep that bird who I am super close to and would murder anyone who hurt her (declaration: before anyone gets excited, obvs I wouldn’t really murder someone and this is not a threat……….) had me on the brink of making a right twat of myself in the middle of a bar in Manchester. What did she say you might ask? Did she say wtf are you doing here? Did she say, well you look a right fuckin mess (which would have been fair after an epic journey from Vancouver)! Did she point out the hairs on me chin (oh fuck off, we all get them and if you don’t yet, you have it all to look forward to).

Nope, none of that, my niece said  “I am so proud of you” and even now writing this, it chokes me.  My awesome cool, trendy, successful niece, who achieved a first for her Bachelors degree, has a job that she loves designing shit and travels more than me, said that she was proud of me!

Now, I imagine you are wondering (or not), why I would have that reaction to my niece, saying she was proud me. Those words are not the typical words I grew up with; In fact the first time I remember hearing those words, were from my Platoon Sergeant in basic training, when he told me that I had successfully completed my course. You could see the utter confusion on his face to have this tough cookie, who spent a lot of her training doing press ups and marking time in jail, bawling her eyes out in front him. These words were alien to me and I think another part of it was that, I was also damn proud of myself; I had literally just succeeded in dragging myself out of poverty and was about to start the chapter that would define the rest of my life.

So the point, what is the point of this post?!! Firstly just to brag about how awesome my niece is, she also writes a blog called Pack and Paint, which if you love art and travelling is defo one for you to follow,

Secondly, never underestimate the effect you have on people.  Even if you don’t know someone on a deep personal level, your words can have a huge impact on their lives.

Thirdly, if someone did have a positive impact on your life and maybe doesn’t know it, reach out and tell them and say thank you.  If someone had/is having a negative impact on your life, forget about them, cut them off.  For some reason, we seem to give these toxic fuckers far more attention than they deserve. Picture yourself pushing them over a cliff in your head (IN YOUR HEAD) and letting them go, such a good exercise.

Chat soon x

Bore off basic Becky………

“I love bum sex”

Now I bet you’re thinking, really bird you’re going there, are you seriously going to write a blog post about your sexual preferences?! I bet you’re torn between not wanting to read on and complete and utter curiosity. Well read on my friend, go on I dare ya.

So no, this is not about sex, up the bum or however which way you prefer it. This post is about a remarkable young man who thought nothing about wearing a t-shirt with such a bold statement on it. No, I am not making it up, my nephew had a t-shirt saying “I love bum sex.” Who would wear such a thing and why?! Was he gay?

I’ll tell you who would wear such a thing, someone brave enough to not care what other people would say. Someone who instead of trying his hardest (even though it would make him unhappy) to fit in, relished in not conforming to ‘society standards’ (like wtf that does that even mean anyway. Bore off with ya ‘society standards’). Someone who thought it was perfectly normally to go to the top of the Eiffel tower and take a photo of the bin up there. He even asked some perplexed tourists, if they would mind moving so he could get the perfect picture of it. My nephew Mark was someone who made it totally acceptable to be different.

Being different must be so less tiring than being……..hmm being what? Normal? Imagine not feeling the need to look like (but not really) every other basic bitch out there. Imagine not being judged or indeed being the fucker judging by what possessions you or others own. Imagine not having to take a pic of your every breathing moment in an attempt to show people that your life is fulfilled and just so much more fun/interesting than their’s, even your friends. Imagine not competing with your friends for likes, views and all those other notifications that give us so much gratification (yes I do it to, if you looked at my Instagram it’s full of pics of my every day life. The most recent one shows you my Sunday, snack, wine and book #perfectsunday. This is me going, look at me I made my own Hummus #makeyourown ew why would anyone buy it from the store. Look at me, I read actual books #bookworm). 

There is a series of shows on Netflix called Black Mirror and one in particular called Nosedive . In this show everyone is rated out of 5 and depending how high/low you score depends on what services you get. Everything you do is rated out of 5 by everyone you come across.  This is literally what we do to ourselves on a daily basis. we critique our own and our friends lives through social media. How fucked up is that?!

In a world where everyone is so desperately conforming to be a basic Becky be a fabulously different Beryl #loveyouberyl.

Mark was only 18, we lost him 5 weeks ago tomorrow in a tragic accident and though it has been so hard for our family spending time with Mark’s friends and hearing all the stories about this wonderful human being has been heart lifting. There were lots of stories, some that made us blush, some that made us incredulous but every one of them made us laugh. They also showed us what an amazing, caring and fearless young man Mark was. Mark didn’t need possessions to make him feel whole and fulfilled, making people laugh was his gift and it was a gift he was very generous with.

RIP Little Mark xx

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Too much pressure

Have you ever sat on one of the priority seats on a train or bus and immediately felt an immense amount of pressure? I guess some fuckers out there will be like “no, what you going on about, is there priority seating on public transport? Surely if when I get on the bus and occupy a seat then that is mine until I get off.” No you little horrors, priority seats are for people who need to sit down more than you, like the elderly, people with disabilities, pregnant birds (or blokes I guess) and people who are severely hungover. Okay, admittedly I just added that last one but those poor people should qualify for priority seating to, have you ever tried standing on a bus when that evil fucker Tequila is still occupying your body? Brutal.

A pregnant colleague was saying just the other day how the train was so busy and she had to stand. This made my blood boil. It’s not even like you don’t want to offend just in case she isn’t pregnant, she is like full on about to drop preggers. Such a nice bird as well, there was me slagging the horrible cunts off and she’s like “well no-one really looks up anymore so they probably just didn’t notice me.” Which is true, everyone is in there phone rather than taking in what is going on around them. Do not get me started on spacial awareness!

So why is it, that when I sit in the priority seats, I feel like I’m a judge on the X-Factor. Like genuinely, it’s the closest I’ll ever feel to being God like and it’s proper stressful. Watching people get on and judging whether they are worthy of the priority seat you’re currently occupying. Now I could be one of those horrible fuckers buried in me phone and not looking up but that’s not me, I just can’t do it. Besides, it’s a great excuse to be a right judgey bitch and all in a good cause. Excuse me while I polish my halo, you may now call me Saint fuckin Michelle!

What a minefield it is though; I mean obvs you have your blatant priority folk: the elderly, the preggers, those with disabilities and the severely hungover but it is hard sometimes to decide. For example, at what age do you qualify as elderly and in need of a seat? Does someone who’s older than me qualify for the seat I’m occupying? Do you risk offending asking someone who looks older than you but not elderly if they need your seat? What if you do offend them and royally piss all over their day, how cuntish is that. It’s a bloody nightmare, I’m just going to stay well away from the priority seats from now on, I just can’t be dealing with that much pressure on me daily commute.

I must say, not all of my fellow commuters are a horrible bunch of fuckers, most are but not all.  Just the other day, I was on a busy train on the way home standing as per the norm and this lovely fella asked me if I wanted his seat.  Now I’m just going to assume that this lovely man was being a gentleman (yay for chivalry) and wasn’t asking because he thought I was older than him or preggers.  Oh fuck off, he was defo being a gentleman….

In other news: well it is not actually other news but a rant. Don’t you just hate those fuckers that recline on a plane. Another stress induced situation, watching people get on your plane being a judgey bitch and praying they don’t sit in the seat in front of you because that fucker looks like a right recliner!!

 

Friend or Frenemy?

“I bought 2 Amazon products for someone to talk to” this is a direct quote from one of my friends and it had me howling, even saying it back now is making me chuckle. Cheers bird. In what could easily have been a scene from a cheesy chick flick me and some girlfriends sat around a kitchen table drinking whatever was put in front of us, talking shit, whilst the men folk did their own thing. We were chatting about the different dynamics of friendships groups and how extroverts and introverts can live happily ever after in good healthy friendships.

Having good friends is important to me and I think most birds will agree (I know, some birds don’t enjoy having girlfriends because hanging out with guys means less drama etc etc) that sitting around with your girlfriends sinking a couple……okay a few bottles of wine (oh fuck off judgey, as if two bottle of wine between more than two women are going to make it past the hour) is the best type of therapy.

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Why is it though, that sometimes we invite people into our lives and rather than being a good, healthy friendship, it turns out to be toxic; you know the type the bitches who make you question yourself, who are always trying to one up you all the time or make you feel bad about yourself so they can feel better about themselves.  These bitches exist, I have met up with a few girlfriends over the past week and even literally just asked a bird at work and in the past, they all had one of these toxic friendships.

Erm, so if you’re reading this and thinking you hypocritical bitch; firstly, thanks for reading my blog, secondly, my Insta is open if you want to see all the fun things I am doing and thirdly, I’m sorry. Because here’s the thing, can we all honestly look in the mirror and say nope, I have never been that bitch, I am not good frenemy material. Well if you haven’t, bully for you, go and polish your twattin halo and pray for all us bitches who sometimes make the mistake of being a complete and utter c**t (oops sorry if that offends, it’s okay to not be a bitch, some people just aren’t capable of being c**ts).

In other news: I had a fabulous evening last night with my oldest Canadian friend (as in time served. Not that it’s like a prison sentence being my friend (fuck, am I actually one of those bitches?!), we went to Vij’s it was amazing. Not sure even where to start with this place; the food was awesome, the service fabulous and the setting on the patio perfect. The owner grafted the whole time we were there taking the time to chat with his guests, take pictures of tables and oblige the selfie requests.

This place is mad popular, if you don’t have a reservation turn up early. The lineup got big pretty fast. You won’t regret the wait though, the food literally makes you dance in your seat 🙂