A bit of a bum deal.

Ok, so I have debating whether or not to post this blog post or not because it is pretty embarrassing, but YOLO. So at the weekend I went to stay at my boyfriend's parents house for the very first time. It was pretty daunting to say the least, especially because I have been with Dom for nearly 2 years so I think I had put it off long enough (I have met them before, just never been to their house). Anyway, I had the loveliest weekend, Dom's parents were super lovely and I ate like a Queen.

On Friday, we went to Blackburn for a Indian meal, at this really authentic Indian restaurant. So in my head I knew that Dom's mum is really into spicy food so I knew that I would look a bit of a divvy if I ordered a Korma, I needed to impress her somehow and not look like a total wimp so I decided to order a Chicken tikka Masala. When it came it was delicious but a lot spicier than I had anticipated but I managed to get my hands on some yoghurt and sneaked some onto my plate to cool it down. So the meal was lovely and we went home and I didn't think anymore about the spicy tikka masala and gave myself a sly pat on the back for nearly not looking like a wimp.

So Dom and I were chilling in his room watching some South Park, and my stomach started to gargle and start moving around like an over excited puppy. I didn't think anything of it and just assumed that the bombay doors would be opening pretty soon. So I went to bed and fell asleep, to be awoken at 3am in a sweat, thinking "Oh brill I've fell asleep with my socks on again", no socks. I felt like my insides were on fire and that there was a 50/50 chance as to which end was going to erupt first. So in a panic I jumped out of bed in complete darkness and whacked my head on the door frame in a poor sleep dazed rush to run to the bathroom (light concussion perhaps?). So I stood over the toilet and waited for my body to decide which part of my body would reject the anger and disdain trying desperately to evacuate. With that I stood over the toilet and felt hot lava vomit spew down the toilet from my unsuspecting lips. In horror I looked into the toilet pan to see tikka masala from earlier, and upon revelation round 2 started to occur, then round 3, then round 4 and round 5 that decided to come out the other end of my body for a sit down performance. After round 345 (It seemed like that anyway) I found myself swinging off the toilet seat with complete dizziness after the volcano eruption and the slight concussion from whacking my head and passed out on the bathroom floor with my pj bottoms round my ankles and vomit encrusted round my mouth. Numerous hours later I awoke to the smell of my own demise and to the sound of another human approaching the bathroom, in a mad realisation I noticed that I had infact not locked the bathroom door so I quickly flushed the toilet and pulled up my rebellious pj bottoms and dashed for the bathroom door to run back to bed. But unfortunately as I opened the bathroom door I was greeted by Dom's Dad John on the landing.

                               *FUCK*

"Morning! You're up early cock!" He said.
"Ahh well the early bird catches the worm" I said in a sleepy daze
"Well it looks like someone has already had breakfast" Pointing at my mouth.....where still lurked tikka masala encrusted vomit. YES. That is correct in my mad rush I had completely forgotten about the lava still lurking on my lips. I don't think I have laughed so awkwardly in my life. And for the rest of the weekend John would make jokes about me being a messy eater and insisting to give me napkins at every meal time.

.

 Oh ground swallow me up.

Trainder....

So I've not had that much of an experience with 'Tinder', the whole concept kind of freaks me out to be honest, not to mention I have a boyfriend (Sorry lads). Anyway, I was on the train the other day on my way back to Manchester from a weekend at home in Lincolnshire with my crazy family, and this guy sat down opposite me, young fella probably early 20's. So he was sat playing on his phone, as was I. Then all of a sudden he looked up, and looked very startled in my direction. At first I was thinking, fucks sake have I got my shirt on inside out again or have I got kit kat chunky stuck in my teeth. So this guy is still staring at me like I've just told him his trainers are chavvy (which they were but I mean you know I don't like to judge) So I decide to pause my music and ask,

'Everything alright?'

To which he replies, 'I'm just feeling a bit guilty, I think I've just swiped no to you on Tinder. I feel really awkward.'

'Oh well...'

'Like I mean I'm sure you're a really nice girl and everything, but you just didn't look like you would put out, you know?'

At this point I was cringing so much about the fact that obviously this pleb had obviously mistaken me for someone else, who was clearly my doppelganger or long lost twin, but part of me was a little angry for my clone that they/we had been rejected by a complete imbecile.

So I said 'Thing is mate, I'm not even on Tinder, I have a boyfriend so I would get yourself an eye test and probably not be so judgmental, if you want someone to put out, I'd put your phone down and crack on with Pam and her five friends.'

I've never seen someone move to another carriage so fast.

I'm never drinking again, until tomorrow night.

Ain't it funny how when hungover everything in life seems 100x worse than it actually is. I mean I am a pretty slow human in day to day life, but when I'm hungover, it's a complete different kettle of fish. If I manage to drag my sorry ass into the shower it will be guaranteed that I will fall asleep standing up or stand in the shower waiting for the water to turn on all by itself. I also find that I get into a state of over thinking territory, SCARY AND DANGEROUS I KNOW, which is BAD when hanging out of ones anus, as everything seems to be able to make me shed tears of self pity.  It's like a hungover reflection/depression vomit infused symphony of unexplained tears. Send help

A door kinda disaster.

My door has been broken since I moved in so today whilst I was at work the joiner came to fix said broken door. Long story short, he somehow managed to accidentally electrocute himself from the electrics that work my light switch around the top of the door. (I don't know the correct terminology OK? Shoot me) Poor bloke was flung across the room like a ham sarnie and a sack of spuds. Even after been electrocuted he managed to fix my door, what a hero. Meanwhile I'm currently sat in the dark in my bedroom in fear that I'm going to electrocute myself via the light switch. Someone send florence nightingale round cos I need help at my bedside.