Rimming, peeing, a quiet night in and a carrier bag full of meat

Tonight I replied to a random tweet from a girl I know who said she was at the pub down the road from me having a few drinks. There I was minding my own business, feet up on the sofa, watching American Splendour and thinking how every man in the world probably feels like Harvey Pekar. A right sorry state.
What happened next was most unexpected. Not the drunken phone call asking if I wanted to join her and her friend for a drink (I'm ill) she's a good friend. Nope that wasn't it, nor was it the fact that she has to walk past mine to get home so when they both came up for a cup of tea and to catch up it's still in the realms of normality. What was strange was my friends friend. We'll call her Meat Girl. Why? Oh no reason. Well actually..
Meat Girl, who I do actually know but isn't MY friend had managed to pick up a burger, a cheeseburger a portion of chips and some donner meat on the way through the town. So Meat Girl was carrying a bag of meat. Which she then offered me, one by one. Twice. I mentioned I'm ill didn't I? I think this made me feel inexplicably worse and I was starting to question my judgement in letting these strange people into my home.
I stuck the kettle on and caught up with my friend a bit, all the while MG (Meat Girl) kept interrupting to offer a burger or other various meat related fast food products to me, being very insistent on saying they weren't all for her.
I was then informed of a story about MG having sex with her partner, and while this was happening he got, there's no delicate way to put this - His arse licked by one of the dogs. MG interrupted at this point and said that no it wasn't the dog it was her, she had licked his arse. There was no dog involved. At this point in my quiet evening of recuperation I've got two inebriated hysterically laughing meat carrying ladies in my front room screaming about rimming.
Obviously MG was in a sharing mood and then told us tales about her fella who is "a shy guy" wearing her knickers and getting in bed with her sister which she then described him as bolivious.
Another time this "bolivious" guy had had a little tinkle while drunk over a cushion that had sprayed all over another family member. Which sounds lovely.
He had also gone into his brothers room to,
"hold on you aren't filming this are you?"
"No, no carry on."
Well he went in there the play a playerplaystation and had just gone to sleep. In his brother's bed as well the crazy fool. Do you want some meat by the way?
I have to admit at this point I was starting to lose the plot a bit, my zen was well and truly fucked. I was starting to want to know more! Who was this mystery man? And why wasn't he my friend? I want to party with Bolivious. He sounds amazing!
But unfortunately they finished their cups of tea and left. Not before MG had asked if she should leave me a burger, as they weren't all for her. Obviously.
So that's how my quiet night in recuperating got gatecrashed by a friend I haven't seen in a while and her insane friend who I will be looking out for like a hawk just to see if I can spot her with her boyfriend.
God bless you meat girl and your bolivious boyfriend.
You crazy rimming, thong wearing, pissy, sleepy, carrier bag full of meat carrying bastards.

East London reworking Any Dream Will Do.

Man close his eyes
Drew back the curtain
To see for certain
What Fam thought Fam knew

Far far away, my yat was weeping
But all the bro's were sleeping
Any dream will do

Man wore his garms
(man wore his garms)
With golden lining
(Ahhh ah ah)
Mans looking bare peng
(Ahhh ah ah)
Wonderful and new

And in east end
(And in east end)
The Cru was moneymaking
And the world was waking
Any dream will do

A crash of drums
A wobble of Dubstep
Fam's fresh new creps flew out of sight
The colours faded into darkness
Feets were all alone

May I return
(may I return)
To the beginning
(ahhh ah ah)
The electrics dimming
My girl ain't topped up the card
The manor and I
(The manor and I)
We are still waiting
(Ahhh ah ah)
Still hesitating
(Ahhh ah ah)
For brer to pick up
Any gear will do
(Any gear, any any gear)
Any gear will do
(Any gear, any any gear)
Any gear will do

Ok so I don't know if any of you know that I have actually made a few "comedy" songs before on Soundcloud under the name bennyb27 such as the cheeseman cometh, sexy smooth slow jams and get yer old boy out. I'm actually tempted to make this as well, please talk me out of it. It seems even a step too far for me.

How to ride the London Underground.

Hey! hola! Bonjour! Kunichiwa!
So you are visiting London and are nervous about riding the underground? Fear not intrepid travellers I have written you a guide to avoid looking foolish in front of the natives and help you on your way.

Firstly remember all Londoners are so very very hipster and we all love to look a little kooky so if possible match your clothes like this gentleman. See how he is growing old gracefully, he has teamed his red skinny jeans with a very stylish red quilted jacket with added faux fur around the hood in case of the pneumonia polluted Piccadilly line! Also remember that London is a very dangerous place and there are hooded oiks everywhere and they ALL want to steal your wallet, phone and probably your snazzy new gardeners weekly mag. The bastards! The beauty of being old is that you are able to "tool" yourself up without the nasty side of a rough stop and search, grab a walking stick and start swinging, bloody zombie children.

Secondly, and this is very important remain cool and emotionless. Tube etiquette means not ever making eye contact or talking to other commuters as we revel in urban solitude, become part of the family and refrain from using your vocal chords once inside the carriage. If needs must you can tut occasionally. Being so close you know your fellow travellers intimately however is a given and fully expect to finish your journey feeling like you have had sex with at least five people, if you are unlucky it will feel like they have had sex with you (if you are very unlucky you may later find "evidence" they have). One way to avoid the helpless whimpers of the lost and friendly is sunglasses, if they can't see your eyes it makes you pretty much invisible. Hey I know we're inside and underground but who doesn't look cool anywhere in a snazzy pair of shades? Exactly.

Also food, you may have seen signs on the London buses saying "please respect other users and avoid smelly food" the trains however operate slightly differently. Innovate, don't conform to the pressures of today's modern society and juzz it up a bit! Sprinkle some salt on your life! Pour some wine in your eye! Or alternatively use this woman as inspiration. She is eating a tomato like an apple and has her already chewed chewing gum nestled on her thumb ready to pop back in once she has finished. A true underground veteran and food style icon. Move over Jamie "smash a bit of sauce on that and season it all over its lovely body, fuckin pucker gobble gobble" Oliver, there's a new queen in town.

A few other tips that may help you on your way, see those barriers at the entrance/exits of the tube this is a good place to stop and search for your ticket or generally if you just fancy a bit of "me" time. Relax, take a load off. After all, you are on holiday.
If you find the tube a bit warm and get a slight sweat on don't be afraid to hold that top rail and get some air to it, we're all one big happy family and aren't afraid of a bit of nasal invasion on our journey.
A very popular London game that many Londoners play is called "Door Jumping" the idea is to wait for the doors to make a fast beeping noise and as they start to shut dive through them, it's 10 points if you dive clean through but 20 if you get a part of you caught in them and have to open the doors of the whole train again. When this happens you will normally be rewarded with a round of applause and high fives all round! The driver also has a similar scoring system but that's not for you to worry about, something to do with decapita... severing arms and.. I can't remember, anyway that's not important.
The tube drivers get lonely sometimes all alone at the front staring down a dark tunnel all day so they can be very appreciative of a little chat between stations. Maybe run alongside the train shouting at them and perhaps even point in front of the train, they're bound to have a little chuckle to themselves about that. Especially ones with curly brown hair.
Well I hope that this has been helpful and I feel you are now prepared to ride until your hearts content.
Oh, one last thing all London tubes are 24 hours so don't leave early to get the last train, there isn't one they run at all times.
Yay!

My embarrassing life.

I thought I'd write a quick blog because I have nothing else to do, nothing! I hear you ask. Yes, nothing. Mainly because I went for a wee and forgot my swipe card at work and am now the only person in the building, trapped in the Corridor Of Doom(copyrighted already!) I have made the embarrassing phone call to get someone to come and release me from this idiotic situation and after much laughing they said around ten minutes, although in these situations I'm sure they leave you a bit longer just for a laugh.

Urban legends. The dead person fungus story.

We've all heard an urban legend or two right? Some of us has probably even seen that film a couple of times. Maybe even the second one (scraping the barrel a bit there though) I thought that now I'm an actual real life grown up that I wouldn't hear these anymore. I was wrong.
So heres the story, I was casually minding my own business at work eating my lunch when a woman in her late 40's that I work with started shouting "oh guys I forgot to tell you.."

The Incredible Sulk.

Today I woke up, jumped out of bed (crawled) and made myself an espresso. Packed my gear up and headed back into work. For those of you that don't know I'm on an "Olympic Rota" this pretty much means I have no life, work every weekend, get random days off. Needless to say my fragile mental state is teetering on the edge of full scaled spontaneous combustion taking everyone I work with to the grave with me. Deliberately.

Are we all mental? Body dysmorphia

I was thinking today about our bodies and how we all have different perceptions of how we look mentally compared to how we actually do look physically.
Thinking about my friends, family and people I know I'm pretty sure there's a very small amount of them that would turn around and say that they are 100% happy with their appearance or body. I'm also pretty sure I've heard most of them at some point talk about getting "some work" done.
The reasons and causes would be different for each person it's probably not as simplistic as the media's portrayal of men and women having immaculate bodies and perfect airbrushed skin. Maybe not getting enough cuddles as a child or perhaps an abusive parental relationship where one parent spat venom and abused the other over some kind of body defect that was wrong in their eyes planting the seed for that child later to drag out of their subconscious and let inhabit their mind.
I kind of guessed that body dysmorphia is having a skewed vision of your body that affects everyday life but here's the Wikipedia definition. It sounds a lot better.

The definition of body dysmorphia on Wikipedia is as below

Body dysmorphic disorder (BDD, also body dysmorphia, dysmorphic syndrome; originally dysmorphophobia) is a type of mental illness, a somatoform disorder, wherein the affected person is concerned with body image, manifested as excessive concern about and preoccupation with a perceived defect of their physical features.[1][2] The person complains of a defect in either one feature or several features of their body; or vaguely complains about their general appearance, which causes psychological distress that causes clinically significant distress or impairs occupational or social functioning. Often BDD co-occurs with emotional depression and anxiety, social withdrawal or social isolation.[3]

Body dysmorphia is a type of mental
Illness? Like anorexia or bullemia? Are either of those things BDD? I don't know so I had a google for a definition and I found this on about.com/phobias

Body dysmorphic disorder is a type of somatoform disorder in which the sufferer becomes obsessed with an imagined flaw in his or her appearance. Those who suffer from the disorder have a distorted view of their own bodies. They may spend a great deal of time grooming themselves or even undergo repeated plastic surgeries in an attempt to “fix” the perceived flaw.

Although it is possible for those who suffer from this condition to become obsessed with almost any part of their bodies, some areas are more common than others; the skin, hair, nose and weight are particularly common.

Those with body dysmorphic disorder often seek reassurance from friends or family but are unable to believe those assurances. It is not uncommon for sufferers to become withdrawn and even stop leaving the house, due to their belief that others will mock their flaws. In extreme cases, sufferers have even attempted suicide. The condition is often linked to generalized anxiety disorder and obsessive-compulsive disorder.

This sounds more like what I thought it was. Yet no mention of mental illness but this time OCD has a factor, this seems to make more sense. But is OCD a mental illness? Hits google again... Apparently yes. It's a anxiety thing but yes it's a mental illness.
What level of fretting over something is normal and when does it become an issue that needs to be addressed by a professional? The reason I ask is because I've recently become a bit worried about my body, I'm 30 and have started to worry about my weight, probably unnecessarily. I'm pretty sure most people would kill for a belly as flat as mine, I'm a skinny guy but am terrified of becoming overweight. I'm 5"7ish and I weigh somewhere between 9 and 10 stone changing weekly. Nowhere near overweight. Yet I'm now doing an Ab workout this has also inspired me to do press ups and in the space of two weeks my arms are double the size. Yet I feel my arms are smaller than ever and my dream toned washboard looks bloated. I don't even want to bulk up, why am I doing this?
The more I look into it the more concerning it is due to the lack of or conflicting information available. I have a friend who is pretty damn muscly and goes to the gym a lot yet is obsessed with being "fat" and "too small" when he is neither.
Another friend who told me "shit Ben your arms are twice the size of mine" also works out at the gym. My arms were obviously nowhere near the size of his.
Almost all of the women I know are "fat" yet the girls who actually are overweight don't tell me this. They know and probably also suffer in a different way.
Do we all have mental health or is this just normal? Where is that line that we cross from just another person with a couple of body issues and when does it become a mental health or problematic issue?
Beats me, I'm just another skinny fat guy eating his way through life.

Stop the mind readers and bird poo trousers.

I've just been casually walking along minding my business thinking about how I might go home and pretend to have lost the plot when my fiancé gets home, you know how it is.

X-Men Days Of Future Past.

So the news of the new X-Men film plot is out and it will be based loosely on Chris Claremont's 1980 tale Days Of Future Past. How closely they will tie this in with the previous film, the actual story from the comics and the other aspects thrown in to help the film chug along for the audience I can't say but I can tell you what I think should happen to follow up First Class, arguably the best of the X-Men franchise.

The rise and rise of The Metrosexual.

The Metrosexual; once a movement now the mainstream. It doesn't really exist anymore because it's the majority of men. There are still men out there who are "manly men" when I say manly men I mean non moisturising, au natural, old fashioned guys. Saying that I'd say the majority now are some kind of strange hybrid metrosexual mutant man. Like a man who goes to the gym and works out and does really heavy weights and is all manly and 'ard. Then he goes and gets his hair frosted or pops his car keys in his manbag or satchel and slips off home in his designer espadrilles.
Where did metrosexual man come from and how was his rise to power and dominance over the rest of mankind possible?

Me as best man? (Speech included)

No mate we're not going to do speeches at the wedding.
The exact words said to me about ten times by the groom. I started to think that he was nervous and didn't want me to write a speech. Why wouldn't there be speeches at a wedding?
The night before the wedding I decided I should write one just in case, it was lucky I did because funnily enough after dinner the father of the bride stood up and gave his speech then they all turned and looked at me.. Oh shit! this speech I wrote took about ten minutes and I was pissing myself laughing at it as I googled speeches and just took some various bits and bobs out of them all.
So I stood up and delivered my speech and it went like this..
I'll take out the names and just change them to bride and groom to protect everyone involved.

The stag do part 2.

So I guess you already know that stag#3 didn't leave he just packed his stuff up and went and slept in his car, I'm currently in the car with him driving home and seemingly he's either forgotten about it or is too embarrassed to mention the meltdown. For the "activity" part if the day we went tank driving which involved dressing up in army boiler suits, hilarious for me as I'm a small man and got lost in the sleeve. Stick a helmet on top of us and throw us in the back of a massive tank and hey presto everyone almost threw up. As far as tank driving goes it wasn't as exciting as it sounds. You drive a tank around a field. Big whoop.

The actual stag do. Friday Night.

Ok so it's saturday morning and I'm writing this seriously hung over, last night was brilliant, hilarious and all you would expect. First we went to Hooters where they plied us with disgusting fried chicken until we all felt sick and we paid £35 to have the stag humiliated. They stuck a hooters outfit on him (he's a big lad) made him do some exercises (which was hilarious, he's a lazy big lad) then just pretty much humiliated him.
We went and found the club that we where meant to be going to with free champagne and queue jump only to find it was closed for flood damage. Brilliant.

The fabled stag do.

This weekend I go away on ANOTHER stag do, this time we opted for Nottingham, but have previously been Newcastle, Blackpool, etc etc. It seems about every six months someone else is getting married and wants to go away on a stag do an they always invite me. Everyone's favourite pisshead? Who knows.
The main difference this time is that I'm the best man so there is an expectation on me to be a little wilder and to give the stag "tasks" to do or maybe tie him up and we can all bum him or some other jovial and hilarious jokey thing. As far as organising this it was fairly painless everyone paid up and no one has given me any drama... Yet.

The Amazing Spiderman the good and bad

Last night I managed to catch up with The Amazing Spiderman - the reboot that didn't really need to be made but was anyway here I'll run through my good and bad points I'll try to keep it spoiler free.
The good.
Andrew Garfield is already a better Spiderman than Tobey Maguire was, he's got the socially awkward lost for words as Peter Parker down brilliantly he also shows flashes of charisma that we never really got before with Maguire. As Spiderman his wise cracks sound just as I imagined them to be as a kid reading the comics his delivery of the one liners and his lanky expressions when suited up are hilarious.
Emma Stone as Gwen Stacey is brilliant and the chemistry between her and Garfield is easy to see, probably because it's real chemistry. I read they are still dating out in the real world (lucky boy)
The bad
Other than the lead roles everything else isn't so good. If this was the first Spiderman then I would be ranting about how brilliant it is. It isn't and it all feels samey, not a familiar feeling that sets us at ease more of a oh look it's Spiderman swinging on a web in front of the buildings, yep he's still swinging, oh for gods sake he could of walked it quicker. You know what would be good? a slow motion swing past the windows. Sheesh enough already.
If something's a reboot do we really need half the film to be an origins story? It all looked very slick but there's about half an hour of unnecessary build up. Just let the spider bite him already.
The Lizard. What can I say about the lizard? They've definitely helped him up his game I mentioned earlier about Spideys trademark wisecracks being spot on and in the Lizard we had a baddie who could of been ridiculed relentlessly while trying to grab spidey yet we only got a bit here and there. Another issue would be with the cgi. When The Lizard is speaking it already looks dated, growly, not in sync, definitely wont stand the test of time.
The music in this film really ruined it for me. Music can make a film but rarely does it break it. Unfortunately in this film the latter is true. It's like they've taken a music score from a cheesy 80's film and just played it over certain parts. Absolutely dire.
While I didn't hate this movie I didn't love it either there was some really good moments and Garfield makes a very convincing spidey but it just wasn't enough I left the cinema and felt a bit "meh"

Criminal chic

This seasons must have accessory for both sexes is just in, hot off the press, drum roll please is... The ankle tag.
Seen just this very morning in a London park strolling around enjoying the scenery and summer warmth is one of the (possibly) criminal fraternity.
We adorn our wrists with watches, straps, bracelets some people even still choose to wear those disgusting charity rubber bands that look like they smell of sweat. Don't get me wrong I'm not anti charity I'm anti ugly.
The only next step in fashion evolution was to start expressing ourselves through our ankles. This particular fellow has decided to wear a "tag" brand under his sock, it's a very subtle look that shows that he is fashion conscious but probably also some kind of criminal, hard bastard, sociopath. Very fitting in London. Bravo sir.
Would you like to wear a extension of yourself on the smelly end of your leg? What would it be? I think I'd distance myself from the tag and go down the more hey I'm friendly but don't annoy me route by perhaps having a string draped with hanging earlobes collected from unfashionable heads.
A bit like a stylish Predator.
Thinking ahead where can we go next with criminal chic? Perhaps a streamlined fitted orange boiler suit or bracelets that look like broken handcuffs? Maybe even the next big tattoo craze could be a prison number on the wrist, you may laugh but I bet some of you have got Japanese writing, tweetypie, barbed wire or a tribal one!
I'm not judging your tattoos here I've got a shark that looks like a dolphin, funny story about that (it's not)
So if you get arrested this year take a look around the prison for fashion tips and you too can be part of the fashionable convict community.

Today's Crimes against fashion.

As a protector of attacks on the eyes by bad fashion I ask you, what is wrong with this photo. Don't answer it's rhetorical I'm going to tell you. Obviously.
Firstly the disgusting faded insult on my cornea's that is this ridiculous tie die t-shirt. Why oh why would you wear something that was only relevant for one month in 1988, it wasn't actually relevant really but I remember having a tie die waistcoat as a child during my non meat eating hippy stage. This shirt looks like something you would find outside the kebab van in Romford high street after all the clubs have kicked out on a saturday night. Unfortunately the road cleaners haven't washed THIS piece of vomit away.
The bogey coloured three quarter lengths that show the raw donner meat pasty elephant shaped leg that protrudes out the snot rag is something I would expect someone on a nature programme for children to wear. Maybe if they were fitted I could of ignored them but they were the size of a Fred Durst style American 90's rapper and looked like they smelt of a men's urinal with all the unexplained stains on them. *gag*
Lastly how many times will I have to stop people in the street and say excuse me but black socks with shoes when you are showing a sliver of leg (albeit one that is whiter than that dudes business card from American Psycho) is WRONG WRONG WRONG!
I obviously didn't say that to this person, what I did do was as you would to an old sick dog that is in pain, I humanely put it down. It was in everyone's best interests. Yeah getting more like Patrick Bateman every day. This must stop or you'll see me on the evening news
"Man goes on bad fashion killing spree"
Enough now,
Ben.

The X-Men and the mystery £5

I started reading comics properly on a trip to London to see my dad. A grabbed comic because I liked the cover at lunchtime whilst doing a hard days labour on a building site (teaboy and broomboy, tough work) It was Weapon X #1 from the Age of Apocalypse saga, I already knew the characters as I had read a few here and there before but this was the one that hooked me in, the art, the desperation of the situation, the fact that Logan and Jean Grey were together! It was all so bloody brilliant.
I knew it was fate for me to become a Big Bang Theory extra after a trip to Forbidden Planet ended in travesty I'd spent all my money and saw the holy grail - X-Men Alpha for £5 I walked back to the train station a sad sad child my life was practically over.
Then it happened
There at the bottom of the stairs in Tottenham Court road a screwed up crumpled five pound note. I ran back to the shop and grabbed that shiny covered beauty without hesitation and to this day it's still my favourite. At the time I was sure some mystic force had put it there, it was destined for me to have that comic.
Apart from about 5 years during my twenties I've been steadily snapping up comics non stop and although I have branched out into the whole comic world the X-Men remain my favourite as they helped me through some tough times because whatever I was feeling at least one of them would be dealing with something similar and still finding the strength to kick some villain about as well.
What I'm trying to say is even now we all need a little escapism, and who better than Wolverine and The X-Men?
How did that fiver get there?
Who put it there?
Was it Stan Lee?

Comedy Clothes

Do you or your partner own a slogan related t-shirt that has a hilarious line like "I fear no beer" or "body of a god, shame it's Buddah"? You do? Do you ever wear this outside the comforts of your own home? You do!? Walk to the nearest bridge and look down into the water and think about your life.
This is NOT acceptable.
My friend recently told me "I'm a bit fat now so I can't do fashion" excuse me, what? I'm a bit short does that stop me buying porn? I coaxed him away from his favourite "To the Pub" top and directed him towards more suitable clothes. It wasn't easy but we got there eventually. I felt like a regular Gok Wan, it's all about the confidence, man breasticles etc etc etc
Has anyone in the last five years looked at one of these tops and thought now that's some funny shit! Yeah to be fair they probably have but that's not the point they are wrong and I am right. Some might be funny but let's try to be funny with our mouth holes rather than out clothes.
I'm not saying I don't own mediocre clothes I've got a fair few superhero t-shirts but they don't make public appearances unless under something much more chic, I'm not even sure that's acceptable.
I will clean up London's badly dressed if it kills me, step by step.

I'm moving to New York..

..Because I've got problems with my sleep.
Here's my issue it's half past six and I've been up since half four. I managed to go to bed around midnight last night and had about 3-4 hours sleep before I woke up. This is a regular occurrence, my bed that I love so so much becomes a prison of rolling from one side to the next, on my back, on my front to no avail.
So far I've done two lots of washing up and re-arranged my cupboard (and it now looks bloody brilliant!)
Thing is I've tried everything and am getting a bit desperate, valerian tea, Nytol, meditation, jogging. Nothing seems to work. Have you had trouble sleeping and know about a super cure? Please let me know, I'm so tired on the other hand I do like a neat and organised kitchen.
Maybe I should just capitalise on this and take a night job and see how long it takes before I suffer burnout and sleep the good sleep a la Fight Club style. Oh wait he had a break down.. I think I might be having one anyway it's just a very tidy one.

Grammar Police

Right, let's get ranty about stuff. Yes already. I think I'm fairly decent at spelling, I win 90% of my words with friends games and I do done spell all them words good. Some of my friends are rubbish at spelling and for those friends I will never, ever correct them. We are grown ups and I find it condescending and rude for no reason. I do have a certain friend who once felt the need to tell me that I had misused "your" and it should of been"you're" I can hear groaning already. problem being I thought you smug git and now watch every word he postson Facebook, twitter or texts me and happily correct him, the two bob. That's still fine we are both consenting adults in mutual spelling relationship war.
The thing that gets me is when someone I think is a dimlo does it. Self appointed Grammar police who can barely use a pen to scribble a name but gets behind a keyboard with a grammar and spell check button and thinks that they are an English teacher.
Let's face it these people obviously have no joy in their lives if they get that frustrated and can't just ignore a bit of bad spelling. I spend my whole life ignoring badly dressed people. I would love to spend my time going up to them screaming about double denim or tracksuits on grownups that aren't on route to the gym, but apparently that counts as some kind of harassment (and is frowned upon by the others on the tube).
Chances are you have done this as well, Don't worry I don't hate you. One drunk moment when I saw someone had called a friend "you are an prick" probably on Facebook I realised it wasn't annoying at all it was brilliant, I was the guy who could ignore these things. Kind of like a superhero, I was, I am like a real life hero. I then fell asleep face down on thefloor hugging my kebab like it was the love of my life. Later waking up with a hand that smelt of garlic sauce and red cabbage and a brain swollen to twice the size that couldn't be used half as much.
If you are scouring this now for some kind of spelling orgrammar mistake YOU are who I am talking about, YOU are the problem, to put it eloquently "your A idiot"

Where it all started.

Afternoon! I recently did a guest post on a friend of mine's blog and its given me the kick I needed to actually start a blog myself. I've written for a couple of websites here and there before but nothing like this so I thought best to put this one out first, where it all started. I shall immediately get on with writing something else, I just hope its as well received.
Hello Big Fashionista followers, for some unknown reason she has decided to sod off somewhere and leave me in charge. I've already broken stuff, please don't tell her.
Two lines in and I'm struggling. I'm not an actual blogger you see, I've flirted with the idea a few times but to actually sit down and write something. AND for The Big F, the queen of twitter. Oh dear.
Ok, here goes. I painted a toenail. Just the one with some of this BarryM magnetic nail polish to see what all the fuss was about. I tlooked awesome and I was genuinely excited but then I realised I'm almost 30 and this was not the way grown up men acted. I say I realised, someone at work saw it and called me strange (that happens a lot) and alas my days as a beauty blogger were over before they had even begun. This saddened me as I was all ready for guyliner and manscara galore and unleashing my inner princess.
Yeah, yeah I'm losing you and what you really want to hear me talk about is comics, football and whisky yeah? I'm joking obviously. I'm here to talk about crimes of fashion. I seem to have noticed recently that people are becoming increasingly nice about bad fashion choices and just passing it off as individuality.
WRONG!
I'm all for individuality in your fashion choices but there are certain rules, certain rules you should adhere to! (I'm imagining myself in a Scream movie but about fashion.) I walk around and am just constantly disappointed. From the midweek suits wearing running shoes on the tube to the African print T-shirts that seem to be cropping up on the floppy haired JoeyEssex clones.Yes when the sun has come out I agree we should all take off as many clothes as we can all legally get away with. Although when you team shorts with a tucked in Polo shirt and a pair of patent leather shoes with no socks I find it hard not to drag you by your ears to the local euthanasia clinic and administer the injection myself. Twice. Just in case. Least the rain has forced them to hibernate, for now.
Ladies I'm not letting you get away with it either, I thought these monstrosities had gone away but recently saw an unwelcome return.Firstly velour tracksuits (someone tweeted earlier this week "camelcalled, it wants its toe back"), second are wonky Uggs (let's wait for the real shuffling Zombie Apocalypse, it's coming) and this will probably go down like a lead balloon remember its only my opinion though and in no way endorsedby Big Fashionista. Fucking Birkenstocks. YUK! Fashion should NOT becomfortable.
On that sweary bombshell I'll apologise for my foul languageand ranty behaviour and thank you all for listening to me. Normal service willresume shortly. Remember if you see someone dressed badly it is your DUTY to inform them politely, (as politeness is free) Thus helping the world be abetter dressed place. Oh and if you see me dressed badly. Shoot me.
Benny (angry fashionista?)