Good byes, small penises and split personalities.

This might just be the end of an era as Kerry Marie Coyne has parted from my life, well, sort of. So it’s time to say goodbye Statler I wish you all the luck in the world you big doof.

Any who, I’m in a really shit mood. I have no idea why, I swear I’m bipolar. I had a massive sugar rush today at work and I was unbelievably hyper, then I get home, and it’s like, eughhhh. I’m really shit with trying to word this kinda bollocks. I’m not a fan of this. Nope. In fact I hate it. I hate how it keeps popping up on my facebook page about people I don’t even talk to going into relationships. It’s like rubbing it in my face that I’m a lonely single. But then it’s like, well Lana, you’re 19, why do you give a shit? (this is my split personality coming into form) and I’m like, well I kinda do give a shit. I’m pretty fed up of hugging my numerous amounts of pillows at night, and then it’s like well, you have copious amounts of years to go through handfuls of male species who will piss you off or make you happy or make you sad or make you angry or make you annoyed or make you cry (you see how I focus on the negative points eh?) I should look forward to and embrace these many many years full of utter shite, I really should. The thing that annoys me the most is that I really do dwell on the most pathetic male specimens on this earth that really aren’t that amazing or funny or sweet or forfill me enough with their male bits. Yet, bearing all this crap in mind, I still seem to end up getting myself attached to these dickheads, which can’t be good can it. Not only are they not that amazing or funny or at all gigantic in the penis area, but they seem to have it in their minds to treat girls like shit or mess them around. If you’re not really all that, you should be grateful of the attention mate. So my split personality comes into form again and it’s like well maybeeee you just don’t deserve me because I’m so amazingly fantastic that I’m just way too good enough for you and you should probably lower your outlook towards females and maybe start trying to chat up monkeys, or girls who are equivalent to monkeys (with a bit less facial hair). So because of all that, you get these amazingly fantastic male species who don’t get a chance with these amazingly fantastic female species (me) because they are so hung up on the men who are not so amazingly fantastic, so the amazingly fantastic male species aim lower, to the monkeys, and the monkeys treat them like shit. Which is why women think men are shit, and men think women are shit. Vicious cycle eh? I’ve completely lost myself in this now and I’ve definitely said amazingly fantastic way too many times. Anyway, I’ll be glad to get away from all this palaver in 4 weeks or so when I move my arse to Leeds. FREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE from Birmingham and all of its utter shiteness. I’m definitely just making up words now. On a happier note, I will most definitely be living it up in Staffordshire this weekend at V festival, Oasis, sweaty indie boys, bit of tent sex action (Sophia loooves it) and hopefully not mud covered wellies! Good times indeed.



Chow for now

Waldorf
x

"Lana you've got ketchup in your hair" - "fuck off".

So my moms and my stepdad have just bought this weird flashy cupboard door/digital television thingy for the kitchen. Yes, the kitchen, because we obviously don’t have enough televisions in the house as it is. There’s a massive flat screen television about 20 feet from the kitchen, is it so difficult to trek all that way to watch TV in there? Why the hell, would you EVER need a TV in your kitchen? What purpose in life does this TV have? No one’s ever going to watch it. But what just really really really annoyed me more than anything in this entire fucking world, is that there was me, sitting happily in the living room, watching Bones (Bones is the shiznit) while my mom and stepdad were in the kitchen “watching” this new TV, yehhh okay. So I thought, oh I know, I’ll watch this upstairs, whether you care or not, we have sky in the living room, and the picture hooks up to all the TVs upstairs. So there was little old me, walking up the stairs to my bedroom to watch Bones. Happily sitting on my bed as you do, watching Bones, when all of a sudden, my stepdad decides to frolic into the living area, to change the channel. WHAT THE HELL. You’ve just bought these really expensive TV to put in the fucking kitchen, so you can watch TV IN THE KITCHEN, NOT THE LIVING ROOM. You actual retard. What is wrong with you? Go back to the kitchen to watch your stupid football. Since apparently that is exactly where we need a TV, you can watch it in there. Since it was your idea, and I’ll watch TV in my bedroom like normal people do. I swear one day I’m gonna walk into the kitchen and there’s gonna be a fucking toilet in there.


Waldorf.

Humbugs, hormones and dead dogs.

I have nothing to write like I never normally do but I thought it was time for an update and I’ll no doubt start rambling at some point. Kerry has passed her driving test so she has decided to be my full time chauffeur, I kindly declined as I couldn’t turn down my fellow acquaintances on the 45 bus, but she insisted, so I took up the offer. Kerry releases her aggressive masculinity when she is behind the wheel, she’s like one of those chavs you see riding around in a shitty metro with about 10 people in the back blasting N Dubz. No this is actually bullshit I haven’t even been in her car since she’s passed, only with her dad in the passenger seat when she had a hissy fit because he told her to reverse at an inconvenient moment. One of the reasons I’m refusing ever to learn to drive again, for example, my driving instructor. I mean, so what if I nearly crashed into that van at that roundabout, you don’t need to get all tempered about it jeez. To be fair he was about 80 years old so I was a tad worried that I might cause him to have a heart attack right there and then. He use to suckle (suckle, eugh, I hate that word) on hard boiled sweets, probably to take the stress away while he was teaching me to drive, and he was definitely knocking back those humbags pretty quickly. Never mind ey, I pulled off his rear view mirror once when I was adjusting it so I could see out of it properly, since he’s about 4 foot tall. He got well manic about it, and then it wouldn’t go back on, so I had to drive without a rear view mirror, I can’t even drive WITH a rear view mirror so god knows how I managed to do that. Anywhooo it was my birthday last Thursday happy birthday to meeee. I don’t feel any older, only when someone says how old are you? And I say, i’m 19, then it’s like, EUGH, 19, old. Technically means i’m still a teenager though which technically means I can blame my aggressive nature on hormones and whatnot. I’ll still do it when I’m like 50 though, ITS MY HORMONES!!! I’m obviously just a hostile person in general. Never mind aye, I always say that “never mind “. It’s to indicate something that’s not important, so obviously I don’t think anything’s important, which is probably true. I don’t have a care in the world about anything. Even fucking swine flu. I really couldn’t give a shit about swine flu. If I get it then I die then I’ll just go to heaven and live it up with my dead dog Charlie. SORTED. I actually probably won’t go to heaven cause I’m a loser, and neither will Charlie cause he use to come in the house and wee up the side of the couch. This is like serious hardcore rambling right now. This is what swirls around in my brain all day.



Good bye mystery blog readers


Waldorf

A moan a day keeps my pyschiatrist at arms length.

This blog was always intended to moan from, anonomously, but you see we're not very secretive so its a bit obvious of our names n such, so i dont care if its anonomous. But i have to outpour everything that is grating on me, me and waldorf seem to think too much so its a by product we wont like alot of things. Trvial things are the worse, such as vaccuums. Recently ive noticed how much i dislike vacuums and how if im walking up my street and i can hear out the window the vacuum is in full swing i won't go in. It is the most boring and monotonous sound in the world. Even the look, the size and the time it takes the vaccuum are some of the most annoying times in my life. If you measured my blood pressure before and during a vaccuum attack, it would sky rocket during. The ones with smug little faces, henry? is that is name? They are the worse, theyr appear frienly with their cheerful expression that are equally capable of that atrocious noise. HC booth you wanke theres was nothing wrong with brooms, dont try and change something thats good enough.

I also get really annoyed by pottering about, i wish people would just get a proper puprose in their actions. You know like people who unnesesarily stalk around, clicking their fingers and mask their non sense of direction by wiping a few crumbs off a table, or dusting the clock or just picking up a glass youve barely finished with and getting annoyed that you've left it there for 2.4 seconds. Parents are really good at this, i think its cus their used to doing so much in the week that at the weekend they become pottering zombies. I used to be a waitress and you get good at pottering, in fact it is probably because of trivial rubbish, annoying jobs that i hate pottering about. Shiffting a few boxes round in a cupboard, filling up straws because 5 of them have gone missing, or clearing away a sugar packet off a table even though someones still sitting their, and you get twelve year old "assistant managers", such as this kid called adam who i used to work with telling you to do this, why his tubby head stands all smug and contet with his meaningless career choice. Some people are really good at pointless jobs, and in fact their not pointless because it's buisness and you need buisness but i should never be stuck in a shop, climbing the walls because im standing around trying to convice people that £2.99 is the price and no we can't barter on it i am not an morroocan jewell merchant, and yes your so funny when you pretend to do a runner.

And lastly before the world explodes with negativity is people who don't do the speed limit and that my friends...is absolutly no one. I think its a sign of how much of a shit driver you are if you cant do the speed limit and have one robotic speed in all variations, do they hope that every single road they come across will be 40 mph, ahh its a 30 area fuck that im doing 40, ahhh its national speed limit fuck that im doing 40, ahh im driving up my drive fuck that im doing 40, ahhh im going through a safari park fuck that im doing 40. You idiots, their should be an iq minimum on learning to drive. The worse are the intentional speeders though. The ones who think its a measure of their prowess and fitness and if you can speed your some greek adonis and that your big FAT foot and complete lack of care for your car shows that your gene pool is one to be highly sought after. When i see someone speed past me it sends shivers down my spine, god its so arousing you must be a real man or some boudican warrior woman, i feel so belittled and meaningless to you, you must really have good....good....oh no wait, theres nothing good about that person because there is absolutly no effort involved at all, except perhaps risking killing some child or somert. You are sitting on your arse, you barely have to move your arms to steer, indicating is about the most strenuous activity involved in driving, or maybe adjusting your seat.



Anyways im bored now songs i like are mr hudsong-supernova and noisettes- never forget me, i really like never forget me, the video is well cool. I also enjoy michael jackson beat it, because of that stockholm video with all the dancers thats wicked that is. This blogs probabaly not very coherant but it was just a spontaneous decanting of my thoughts

Prostitution, brain cells and step parents (and I thought my blog titles weren't weird enough).

I have no beginning middle or end to this blog I just felt in the mood to write something to keep my fingertips occupied. I have decided, in my very much normal and average sized head, that the brain contained inside it, is far too large. You may think this is me merely boasting about my somewhat intelligence, but no no no, this isn't my point, in life, I definitely think WAY too much, serious amounts of thinking go on in that big old brain of mine. It's actually getting scary, like even in the middle of a conversation with someone, my thoughts will just wonder off into nothingness and I'll be in some sort of daze with a complete blank stare on my face (this mostly happens when my dad is talking to me cos he rambles about utter shite) but anyway, I definitely use my brain too much, ah this is a well long sentance I better put a full stop soon. See what I mean I seriously ramble too much, too much for one human being. I have too much to say that's why, i'm too argumentative and I'm way too opinionated and judgemental and I never let anything go. I had a fall out with my mom recently and it involved her basically giving me the boot at work since she's my manager and all, which is ridiculous. it's like symbolic, she can't sack me from being her daughter in life so she sacks me from being her employee at work, douche, but anyway I told her that I was going to become a prostitute since I will no longer be able to fund my savings for uni as I am now unemployed. She wasn't amused so she decided to inform my dad about it who also wasn't too amused. See I really didn't need to do that, but i'm so childish I have to bring some sort of amusment into any kind of argument with my mother because she aggravates me immensely, it's not my fault it's hers, she shouldn't be such a pain in the arse. She's like one of those people you hate but are kinda forced not to since she spent a grooling ten hours or so giving birth to you and whatnot, and cos she's married to PURE EVIL who you are allowed to hate cos technically he's not blood related but then you kinda feel bad cos in some weird, revolting and disturbing way that monster made of PURE EVIL strangely makes her happy, so then somewhere in my grinch-like heart that is three times too small, I feel what I can only recognize as guilt. Then it makes me think well Lana, you are one miserable twat. Which is probably true. Nevermind ey. Atleast things can't get any worse, actually I don't agree with that, I could fall off a cliff and die, and I suppose in a way that is worse.

Anyway before I go, I must say that I am completely head over heels in love with this album, Florence and the Machine - Lungs. She's got such a bloody good voice. If it was any way humanly possible to marry a song it would be "Blinding" off of this album, one word, amezzing.

It won't let me edit the font for some reason, how annoying.

toodles noodles

waldorf x

up yours dr waldorf.

Allanah is a threatening beast, she said she'd hit me where it hurts which is my pride and joy this blog. So i thought to keep it going, i shall post some songs that i am loving at the moment, plus it makes it easy for me to find them to listen to as i forgot the password to my laptop and now can NEVER use the internet to download shh. Updates, things are very very well thankyou mysterious blog readers. I do have some topics for bloggin but ill wait until a bit because at the moment i really need the toilet.



Here we go chillun.

Frankmusik-Gotta boyfriend, Better of as two.

Marina and the diamonds-Obsessions

oren lavie-Her morning elegance

Maybe going to see frankmusik in mankyland deaf centre as hes a knob and doesnt want to play in bimringham but oh wells


your musically

statlers.

No we're not dead.

So we haven’t actually updated this blog since the 13th June which was like... 2 weeks ago? But anywhooooo, Statler apparently has sunstroke, I can sympathise as i’ve had it before and it is not very nice. I think the only words that passed through my mouth within those four days were “EUUUGHHHHHHHHH!!!!!” and “MORE CREAMMMM!” I was only about 10, bless, and when i got back to school the week later it had turned into a tan so everyone was like “Gosh Lana you’re sooo brown woah you tan sooo easily woah i’m jealous!” When really i’d been in agonising pain just a few days before. I think that upped my cool-o-meter quite a bit but sadly it decreased when I broke my foot and couldn’t join in with British Bull Dog every break time ,so there were all my class mates running passed me with their freely working legs whilst I was hobbling along like an old woman. Ah well, with a name that rhymes with banana and also spells anal backwards you can’t have really expected me to be the coolest kid in my class.

So now since summer is here, theres an even nicer mix of disgusting smells on the bus. You’ve got urine, alcohol, tramp smell and B.O. Lovely. I know some people might not feel the need to freshen their airpits with a quick spray of deodorant in the morning, but for the convenience of having to sit on a crowded hot sweaty bus stuck in traffic, you might just wanna maybe have a little wash under the pits. Even if it’s with a flannel and a bit of soap. Just for the comfort of everyone else around you, breathing in your stench through their nostrils. The handles above don’t help, I don’t see many people actually using these handles but when someone does they are most likely wearing some sort of disgusting tank top with unshaven pits wavering in your face. Typical eh.

Anywho i’m in a bad mood so i’m gonna say au revior


Love love
Waldorf
x