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January 16, 2011


I am currently defrosting the freezer and pickling some cumquats I had in the fridge. Both of which is taking ages – but I realised a second ago I turned off the cooker and not the freezer. Everything is a bit like scrambled eggs at the moment. Yesterday was both amazing [I met my little Remy in the morning and went for a beer with the girls] but then shortly afterwards I had a melt down on Stoke Newington Church Street, Anthony came from his studio – marched up infact sans coat and started yelling at me in the street. [Deservedly I don't know. It's complicated. We were both victims? All I can think of are some conversations I have had with Emma B about it being a woman's right to lose it sometimes. Anyway as everyone saw, yep me I lost it. And Anthony was yelling in the street! Something he would NEVER do normally. Only for the pair of us to be pleasantly interrupted by Simon Bookish which was WONDERFUL to see him! From Awkward back to Amazing. Ohhhh what a day.]

Today I have just been crying non stop : Ohhhh my freezer doesnt freeze properly. I am a failure. I will never succeed at anything. All this frost. Why can’t I clean up properly after myself. No wonder I am so unattractive and revolting no-on will ever love me. Oh no hang on a minute… Anthony… Oh my god I don’t deserve such a fabulous boyfriend he is so amazing. He is just the greatest guy…

And then the crying starts again. WHY?

Is it just me?

Also, another question I would like an answer to : Who ever you are on the 3rd floor of our office building using the ladies toilets WHY DO YOU PICK YOUR NOSE AND WIPE IT DOWN THE WALL FOR EVERYONE ELSE TO SEE? If we wanted to piss in a chamber full of snot, why not invite us to crawl right up your fucking nose?!
I cannot fathom this. There is a roll of toilet paper to blow your nose on and wipe your bogey and flush it down the loo. WHY?

I have run out of money until payday. This happens every January. WHY?

And I have decided that I will be no longer contributing to the Lameatnames blog. I will continue to add material to the lameatnames gallery though. And probably go back to putting weird fanny pictures on my own blog. Exciting isnt it? I should just get a YouPorn account and be done with it. Which also makes me want to ask myself WHY would I want to do that in the first place? WHY?


August 2, 2010




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I walked into the chemist this afternoon and the pharmacist asked me “How are you?” and I just wobbled into tears. All about things making me happy and sad. Happy because Club Philos is on this weekend, someone is driving home early to see me, because at least my Internet is kind of fixed [even if Firefox refuses to work and I still need a different router]. Sad because one thing in my life just goes on for infinity and the doctors and psychiatrists who are supposed to take care don’t call, or when they do have some feeble excuse, the expensive industrial sized shredder at work was jammed and no-one would outright confess [tragic I know but who is the fuck face who has to then try and explain why the shredder has only be used for reasonable office use has gouges in it from scissors being jammed in the teeth to a moron on the phone who won't want to help - but then as a total jobs worth I totally lost it and found out who did it and made them do all the painful calling the long line of unhelpful people], tried to catch up with my work but just couldn’t.

Now my bra is digging in and my house is a mess, but at least I have some flowers on my shelf. The florist was laughing at me when I said “What else have you got that looks like weeds?”


And I got a lovely note from F.K. who wished me a balloon around the world and even the dark side of the moon. What a sweet thing to say.

So – I am in Paris for the bank holiday weekend this month. 27th – 29th or something like that?! Who is there and what is there to do. I still want to go to the Museum for Skin Diseases. So any suggestions other than that.

In news from cat land, Hobart is in seventh heaven. She has found a white rubber band left over from the BT Maintenance man’s visit today. While he was here on the phone wearing his horrid cheap belt and uniform I sat on the sofa in my nightshirt imagining how awful it would be to have sex with him. Feel his horrid skin grating against my skin, his nasty hands grappling with mine all while he cavorted with me while he was on hold to the call centre that he had to use to check how many megs I could take. His English wasn’t very good and he was probably someone’s father, if not grandfather. What is it with me and revolting old men? Charles Bukowski has a lot to answer for on this impressionable young mind.

Erghh… back from that warped imagination k-hole.

Here’s to tomorrow which has just gotta be better.

May 9, 2010


Just left Mum’s.

As I was leaving, Dad came round the corner in his wheelchair like a long lost cowboy getting pushed by one of his carers crying. It was awful. So I was crying. Then my Aunt decided it was the right time to take my photo. Awful. And I wanted to hug Mum and not cry cause we had a pretty awful time except for a newly discovered common bond over The Sheild. And my sister and I had no time at all. She had told Mum she doesn’t really like me, Mum told me, I sent my sister a text telling her I heard what she said but I would rather hear it from her than Mum. She replied with the one word that my ex used to use that shattered me in the same way.

‘Awesome. ‘

And then I didn’t hear from her for the rest of the trip, not even to say good bye.

October 28, 2009



You reminded me of these days as we sat at the place. I want to tell you of course. But I didn’t want to cry over a Margarita with extra salami.

October 26, 2009


Tomato Festival

I got so sick, so often, I had to have my tonsils out. But when I was younger and had a week I was sick off school with tonsillitis and had to take strong antibiotics. On the last day I got my period. I was traumatised. I blamed it on the medication. I cried and cried. Why did this have to happen to me? I didn’t want it to happen. I hated it. The blood coming out from between my legs, I was so ashamed. Pulling my knickers down and seeing the blood, knowing that I could be fertilised one day now made my heart rise in my throat and the weight of the universe rest on my shoulders. A cold fist. My mother showed no sympathy. Why should she? Her mother died when she was 14.

At dinner time we all sat at the table and my mother banged a huge saucepan full of unstrained tomato soup on the table. The seeds were all swimming around. I wanted to vomit. But I could not leave the table until I had finished.

October 16, 2009


All day morning crying.

April 13, 2009

Family Dinner


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