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

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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 🙂

You horrible bitch…….

Argh, I am so pissed off right now, I don’t often let anyone other than myself piss all over my day but as my lovely Welsh friends would say, “I’m tamping, raging, fuming.”

I am having a fab week, work has been productive, Tuesday was a day off, I received my tax refund yesterday (which went straight to pay for the desert race that I stupidly agreed to run/walk/crawl with Mr C ugh), we met our fab friends last night and had an awesome meal at Tableau Bistro and tomorrow night, we are meeting up with a load of British ex-pats for what is no doubt going to be a very messy night. So after work today I head to my Hip Hop dance class to perfect my moves to Hurricane Chris’s Halle Berry (tbh, I was shit at it, like proper shit but hey it was fun and that’s what counts right). Anyways, I finish and go to get the bus home feeling happy, famished and looking forward to whatever concoction Mr C was knocking up for dinner (okay let’s be clear about this, when I say “knocking up” that doesn’t mean Mr C is nailing (in case I need to also clear this up, when I say “nailing,” I mean fuckin, shaggin, making love etc etc) me dinner, “knocking up” is also a term for throwing something together. )

If you’re still with me after that last paragraph, first of all, well done, I read that back and got proper fuckin lost. Secondly, bear with me, I’m almost at why my blood is boiling a wee (small not urine) bit.

So, I gets on the bus and all is well (that’s not really true, all wasn’t well in the first place. Like a dumb twat, I’d forgotten me sunglasses and was getting right blinded by the sun), I’m excited to get home for me dinner and to watch our new Netflix show Safe and boom, some horror gets on me bus and totally fucks up my smug life is great vibe……..cheers love.

A family gets on, a Mum, Dad, a stroller (buggy), two little people and an even smaller one. Now, I imagine you think I’m going to start banging on about the little people and the even smaller one but no, something happened that might surprise you and for sure surprised me………………

Next stop, some older bird gets on the bus and she, is the horror who pissed all over my week. The family had their stroller in the spot where the fold up chairs are and though there was plenty of other seats this bird said loud enough for the whole bus to hear and sound like a complete bitch “can you move this so at least one person can sit down.” The family of course, shuffled the little people, even smaller one and the stroller to accommodate her request. I sit there all quiet, still being blinded by the bloody sun and thinking about me dinner. Well my inner warrior, decides that now is the time to tear herself from whatever slaying she is doing elsewhere and bless me with her presence.

The even smaller person starts kicking off and though their Dad is doing his best to calm it down, the older bird cannot hide her miserable judgey self. At first, she starts glancing up at the family disapprovingly but then she openly glares at them, starts shaking her head and starts tutting away and that’s, when my inner Warrior (Shelly) puts in an appearance.

Unfortunately Shelly didn’t have to much time to amuse herself with the miserable bird as the next stop was ours and as I mentioned before, I couldn’t stop thinking about what Mr C was knocking up for dinner. Obvs we wasn’t going to stay quiet though. I purposely walk to the front even though it wasn’t the closest exit and said to misery “what do you expect, it’s just a baby” to which she replies “mind your own business.” Now I know, the mature thing to do, would have been to shake my head in disappointment and hope that misery would reflect on her behaviour and realize she’s being a bitch. I didn’t do that. I smiled at the family, said thank you to the bus driver and called misery a “judgey cow” as I stepped off the bus.

Do you know what, I don’t even like kids, they make me itch and tbh I don’t care for anyone who can’t buy a round but this miserable woman proper got on my tits (not literally), was a horrible person and was obviously making the Mum and Dad feel uncomfortable and thought she was for some delusional reason, superior.  We taught her eh.

In other news: Mr C continues to hold onto a distinction on his MBA and though it’s not the same as my now amazing hip-hop dance skills, I do have to give credit where it’s due.

 

 

 

 

Half-Marathon Etiquette

I ran in a half marathon race on Sunday (yeah yeah go me right, I am fuckin awesome). Like some of the other idiots there, I did zero training (It wasn’t just me right?!), which became evident after the 10 km point. So though I cannot give out any training advice or tips (except to say that, yes you should defo do some sort of training) I can sure let you know about race etiquette (which may or may not just be my opinion) so pin ya ears back.

When you sign up for a race they will ask you what time you intend to finish it in. This isn’t to pin you down and say you have to run the race in that time. They do this to split runners down into different start groups. If you are in a faster corral, especially if you’re running with Sue, Karen, Annie, Wanda and Pauline in squad form (also really irritating), you can get in the way of faster runners.  Tips on choosing the right corral.

If you have to slow down or stop, use your arms as signals and get to the side. It is perfectly fine to stop.  I guarantee the only person judging you for stopping is yourself. Unless you’re that twat who abruptly stops in the middle of the race path, don’t be that person. Imagine it, Kim is running behind you at her 100%, she is in her element and feeling fuckin awesome; you stop abruptly and boom, poor Kim is out of the race and yes, now everyone is judging you.

When there is shade, get in it. Yes, it’s lovely the sun is shining and it’s the perfect opportunity to work on ya tan. No it’s not knobhead. It’s the perfect opportunity for sun stroke and heat exhaustion.  Save the tanning for afterwards when you can chill on a patio, being that smug fucker telling all and sundry that you just ran a half-marathon.

Whenever water, electrolytes or snacks are offered, take them. You don’t want to be that dumb fuck who turns their noses up at electrolytes in the form of sports drinks, only to get severe calf cramps at the 19 mile point on a full marathon (yes I’ve completed one of those too.  See told you I was fuckin awesome. Okay I am dumb occasionally but who isn’t) and have to be dragged to the side by some old dude and walk the rest of the way.

Don’t throw water cups at the volunteers. I know what you’re thinking, as if you need to be told to not throw water cups at the volunteers. I saw it, with my very own eyes this Sunday when I ran a half-marathon (I am fuckin awesome), some c**t so obsessed with himself didn’t look to see where he was throwing his cup and it hit a volunteer and water went all over her.  Don’t be that person.

Thank the volunteers. Mr C and I have volunteered for one race, the Hypothermic Half which is held in various cities; we were at the one in Edmonton, Alberta. Besides the fuckers taking the piss because we pronounce water properly (we’re English knobhead, we made the language up) all the runners were so lovely thanking us for volunteering.  I made sure to thank all (okay a lot of) the volunteers on Sunday when I was running the half-marathon (I am fuckin awesome). I even thanked the Scientology lot who had set up a table. To be fair, they had the best, much needed snacks, bless them………………….

If you see a person with their hand held out for a high five or holding a sign saying “power up here.” Don’t be a miserable twat, give the weirdos their high fives and hit their signs. They could be taking part in the only way they can. At least they’re there cheering you on, when any normal person would be in bed at such a god awful (sorry) time on a Sunday morning.  Don’t be a judgey twat.

Don’t judge your fellow runners and assume you can run faster than them because you’re smaller or younger. I used to do this all time, look at a person and think I could easily beat them. It really doesn’t work like that.  It doesn’t matter if someone is older, bigger or wearing a banana suit, don’t compare yourself to others, everyone is running their own race.

Don’t judge yourself, another tough one. We set our goals and tear ourselves apart if we don’t reach them. Guess what, if you don’t run as fast as you wanted to or ran as far as you wanted to, you can train and do it again. That’s the best thing about running, if you keep at it you will for sure see improvement.

So they’re all my tips on race etiquette, hopefully it was a useful read!!!

 

 

 

 

Would you take a shit at work?

I know, I know, this is going to be another crude post and yet again I am talking about shit. At least this time it’s about human shit and not bird shit………..just read that back, it doesn’t make it better does it?!

So I have been at my new job now for 3 weeks, I was going to say 3 whole weeks but truth be told, none of those 3 weeks have been whole (cheers mate). Next week will be my first full week and tbh (that means ‘to be honest’ for you older folk, alright and folk my age) I don’t know how I’m going to do it! Like seriously how do people have jobs, have a social life and manage to do all that adulting stuff?!  We have already transitioned to getting our groceries and Eric’s food delivered.  We even have a bird who comes in and walks Eric most days (he loves her the traitorous little bastard). There was even talk about hiring a cleaner and someone to do the ironing the other day (apparently doing it after Sunday arvo drinking isn’t such a great idea and is a pretty pointless exercise).

When I wasn’t working I wasted so much time doing nothing, doing nothing was what took all my time up! Every time Mr C would ask what I’m doing, I would respond with “cleaning,” but we lived in a 1 bed 1 bath apartment. Now, every bit of time is accounted for, we have our routine scheduled TF. Wake up at 05:45, cuddle Eric until 06:00, I work out, Mr C takes Eric for a walk. Mr C leaves at 07:00, I leave at 07:30. We still don’t make the most of our time after work, though we are signing up to a Crossfit class next week to see if we like it. Mr C is also studying his MBA and I have important research to do, which includes watching TOWIE and any ‘Real Housewives of …….’ (don’t be a judgy twat, it’s v entertaining).

Anyways, I have totally digressed (I know right, how posh is that word. Posh AF me) and need to get onto the actual topic of this blog post as indicated in the title. So I am back in the the office world and where I work is v modern and all open concept and booths. There is approx. 30 peeps in the office (mostly birds) and we share 3 toilets (washrooms, bathrooms, restrooms, the loo, whatever you want to call it but basically, the place you go to shit and pee). These toilets are always v clean but bloody stink more often than should be deemed socially acceptable. Now I know what you’re thinking (okay some of you) but it’s a toilet, how else is it supposed to smell?!

I agree, you shouldn’t go to the toilet expecting it to smell of Roses, it’s a toilet for god sakes and has a very definitive function. But, it’s a public toilet, once you leave it you can guarantee someone else is going to use it after you.  I almost threw up when I walked into one today, something which I haven’t done in a long time (okay, that’s lie, I threw up last Saturday but totally unrelatable, that was down to dodgy Oysters…..and far to much Cider on an empty stomach).

So be a sweetheart, have a shit before you come to work; unless you’re a Vegan, apparently their shit doesn’t smell!

In other news, nah I haven’t actually got any, far to busy working, drinking and talking shit to have other news!!

Judgy Bitch!

Have you ever tried to be one of those lovely decent human beings who don’t judge themselves or others? Well after reading a lovely book called The Four Agreements I decided that from now on, I will not judge other people and indeed myself. However, saying and sticking to this agreement is mad hard (is that just me or what? Is it a terrible personality trait? Omg I am a terrible human being!!! Fuck, now I’m judging myself argh).

So off I went with this delightful thought in my head and sunshine firing out me bum; I was off to ‘Wine Wednesday’ to meet a bunch of strangers I’d met on Facebook (don’t judge). I get on the bus, which is busy and see that some guy is sat in the very middle of the back seat taking up much more room than he should be. I’ll show this fucker I thought and I did. I marched right to the back of the bus, gave a curt “excuse me” and plonked down into the seat, making sure I took up the exact amount of room that I was entitled to.

Once settled and resigned to the fact that the assignments the guy on the other side of me was marking were in French, I went back into me head to think about not judging. Now earlier that day I had witnessed a man not picking his dog poo up and according to my new angelic way of thinking, I was not to judge him. How can you not judge someone who does not pick up their dog’s poo?! It is just pure laziness, if you’re not going to pick up your dog’s poo, then you shouldn’t have one. It’s those fuckers who get us responsible families banned from beaches and parks, bunch of ****s (don’t want anyone judging me for using such a misunderstood word).

Okay so it can be difficult to not be judgy but not picking your dog poo up and man-spread on public transport is surely fair game right? I look around the bus at my fellow bus peeps with a big smile, radiating positivity and then you will never guess what I see; A Millennial gets on the bus, now baring in mind it was snowing and freezing here in Vancouver yesterday, this muppet was not wearing socks!!!!!! I know it’s a thing to not wear socks, it’s trendy and makes your Converse look cute but mate your feet must be freezing.

This is all proving to much for me and my non-judgy mind so I blank everyone out and go back into me head. I managed to remain there for all of five seconds until what I can only describe as the horrors of sweet overpowering Joop aftershave attacking my senses and breaking my blissful running through a flowery meadow vision. I open my eyes glare around the bus trying to work out who would do this. Non sock boy is still there, fuckin idiot, his feet must be blocks of ice by now.

As going into me head wasn’t working, I decided to be a normal person, put me head down and look at me phone. Wondering who else was going to be at the ‘Wine Wednesday’ I decide to check out the event details. Guess what…………………’Wine Wednesday’ is next week. Get off this bus you fuckin idiot!!!!

Pure cringey!

I was on my way to dance class last night (I know right, how cool does that sound. I now identify as a dancer check me the fuck out) getting my inner Beyonce prepped and wondering what this weeks song will be (last week it was  Tinie Tempah, ‘Girls Like’ and no one in the class knew who he was, like wtf how do you not know this awesome artist who can literally turn a shitty run into a Paula Radcliffe motivated marathon. Go on click the link and try not to move).

Anyways I’m crossing the road and almost got hit by a moped, I was like whatever, I’m a dancer on my way to class you will not kill my positive vibe (PS you look like a right nob, open your eyes next time you prick). This random stranger who was walking behind me was so indignant for me, he was proper pissed and having a right good old rant on my behalf. Not sure if it was the fact of almost getting run over that pissed him off or the fact that it was a moped (oh the shame).

So I humoured the guy and was chatting away and he said “your accent is great I won’t guess where it’s from” told him it was English and he asked if I had just moved here so I gave him the blurb of moving to Vancouver from Edmonton. He told me that he also used to live in Edmonton and asked how I liked Vancouver which I obviously replied that I loved it here. “Fist pump” he said as he held his clenched fist out towards me (ya what love, you want me to fist pump what are you like 12, you have just been raging about bad drivers and now you want me to “fist pump” are you having a fuckin laugh). My inside voice was having such a laugh with this, the outer me totally different. I put on a big smile and did the ‘fist pump’ thing. Thankfully we were heading in different directions and I could get back to practising my awesome dance routines (I’m a dancer don’t ya know) in my head.

So my dance program is almost finished, I only have one more class left and though I have enjoyed them I think I will try something else. Maybe boxing as I do love punching things (don’t look to much into that) though once you’ve been trained by the hardest bird in Birkenhead who was also named as one of the toughest women in Britain it’s going to be pretty hard to find a program that comes close!

In other news, our trip to Montreal was fabulous, we ate, drank and got frozen to the core. Besides the fab food and beer Old Montreal has lovely old buildings and we really did feel like we could have been in France. Winter probably isn’t the best time to go so we will be checking it out again in the Summer!

Have a fabulous weekend, I will be searching Vancouver for a decent Mojito!

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Mojito please!