Thursday, 19 August 2010

Living with fitties.

Um... disclaimer. Can I stick a disclaimer on here? I want to deny responsibility for quite how bloody GAY (yes, gay as a derogatory term) this is going to sound and, take the right to take the piss out of me away from you. And I would like to say, um... DORT JUDJ MEH, yeah?

Anyway, the gay. Through the wonder that is facebook and through my killah stalking skills, on the wonder that is facebook (alright, this really didn't even begin to test my incredible abilities- I'm dead creepy. If I was Dappy I'd have found that lass. I need to stop making N-Dubz references- I honestly believe my life would be more fulfilled if I wasn't such an N-Dubz fan), I have come to the conclusion that next year I will be living in a compound of fitties. Foreign fitties. And this is leading to a very pathetic mardy sulk, at how everybody will be fitter than me and how I will be the token ugly and blahblah. My mum is trying to put out my little, gay, insecure paddy-type thing, by telling me that I'm quirky. Which is hilarious- it's ok that I'm not tall and slim and FIT and, like, foreign (foreign adds at least 10 fit points, right?) because I am short and fat and ginger and have an odd face and I'm northern and dress funny, hahahahahaha.

Aye, I sound horribly judgemental, I'm just having one of those pathetic girl days. I probably just should take some valium, hang on. Alrighty, sorted; deeeeeeelicious.

I'm getting excited for uni, which really hasn't a lot to do with actually going to uni. No, what I mean is my getting excited RIGHT NOW isn't to do with going in 5 or 6 weeks. It's more to do with my gap year being almost up, if that makes sense- it's a year as of now that I decided to take a year out. It hasn't been the best year of my life. I'm really am slightly concerned about the volume of fitties, since a walk through Scunny makes you feel deliciously, well, delicious- the people are not the most beautiful (SHUT UP, JUDGEMENTAL BRAIN). And I can always rely on a walk down Steelworks road to get me a lot of male attention and beeps, thus VALIDATING MY LIFE. Fitties aside, I'm ready to go and for some fun and some being YOUNG. I want to be 20, instead of feeling 80. Although I wouldn't mind hanging onto my love of drinking like a 13 year old. A hard 13 year old (I can't drink cider or alcopops). I should also probably learn to get my kicks without relying on the dregs of society, when I wander through the ghetto. Summat to add to the to-do list.

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