Amusing Line of The Day, As Spoken to Claire Lincoln.

Azzie

I want a slap chop

12:22Claire

is that in cafe wolrd?

12:22Azzie

No its real, google it

12:23Claire

Ok...

You geek!

I thought it was a haircut at least!

Not an adult thing lol

12:24Azzie

Slap Chop

lol

Its because I like the name it sounds like a pokemon

12:26Claire

Do you remember mankeee

12:27Azzie

Yeah! Number 56 in Pokedex Mankey, evolves to Primape, fighting type.

Pokegeek Azz

12:27Claire

Oh dear.

12:28Azzie

I <3 pokemon

look! im alone so much im going insane

12:28Claire

I know, and fair play pokes are ok

12:29Azzie

I might as well have this badge that says 'look! Im a geek! I am always on my own so have absolutely no social skills at all! I like pokemon, cats and kitchen equipment'

Cat Bathing.

Today I had the wise idea of giving my Black Cat, Mr.Sushi, a bath. He smelled a bit fusty and had dirty feet, so I ran him a scented bath and prepared a towel.

My first task was to find him. I had locked him in, and I knew that he was in the house somewhere. So whilst on the phone to Danyelle, I began to hunt high and low for him. I looked under beds, behind toilets and in cupboards. I finally found him lurking under Scarlett's bed, right at the back, where on fist glance I had not seen him. As I went to fetch him out, I fell over, and caught my foot between the bed slats. I was already furious. I smacked my head on the chest of drawers on the way down, and then Sushi ran off into the kitchen, where he attempted the window. It was closed.

I caught him, took his starry collar off, and firmly plopped him into the bath. Where he scrabbled and scrambled, which was unusual because he usually enjoys the bath. He even gets in the bath when I am in it. Making me have to get out very quickly. I held him firm, and thoroughly washed him with mint and tea tree shampoo. I was talking away to him the whole time. I removed him from the bath, and, to my horror, he peed on my leg. I was so annoyed that I laughed (otherwise I would have gone potty) and just put him back in the bath, finally got him out and took him through to my room to blowdry him. 

I brushed and blowdried him to a perfect fluff. He looks like a chimney brush.

Childhood

As a kid, I was probably the most hyperactive, weird child that most people have ever come across. I was the serious 'weird kid' at school, due to the fact that I liked books and not barbies, dispised pink and liked beating boys up if they came anywhere near me. I was detested by the majority of my mums family and friends, and this is a story from when I was about nine.

My mum had decided that it would be a good idea that I made some new friends, so she took me along to her friend's theatre group for kids about my age, and left me there for the duration of the day. Bear in mind that I was an icredibly difficult child, with quite serious Bipolar disorder and the social skills of a gnat (yes, biting people was usually involved). I arrived at the theatre group after staying up all night being petrified of the ghost of Berkely Square, and possible iminent nuclear war. I was stood, alone in the foyer, in my dads old addidas t-shirt that reached my knees and a pair of flowery leggings, with my badly dyed orange hair that I completely avoided brushing, and luminuos green nikes at least two sizes too big for me, waiting for someone to sort of pick up on the fact that I was new and didn't know anyone. Nobody did. So I decided, in my exhausted nine year old brain, to go find somewhere that sold food and hot chocolate, take these treasures, and go somewhere very quiet to read my book and possibly sleep. So I decided to quietly sneak away from the quaker hall in which the forced social interaction of pre-teens was taking place, and wandered around the streets of North London trying to find somewhere to purchase my desired items.

Suddenly, all hell broke loose. I found myself in the middle of some sort of police raid, with large terrifying men yelling at me to get out of the way, news cameras, armed police, and some sort of drugs cartel. I was totally and utterly confused, and stood by, book in hand, to watch the proceedings. Some men were arrested, and some drugs were found without much further ado.

By this time, my mum was having a lovely cup of tea at her friends house and watching the live news, broadcast from the Turkish area of North London, not far to where she had just dropped her daughter off. Hang on. Is that.... Oh my god. My mum had seen me in the edge of the news broadcast, and started to majorly freak out. She called the friend I was supposed to be with, and to her dismay was told that I was nowhere to be found. She began to panic (and my mum is a totally unflappable woman) and called the police.

Around the time she started to worry, I got on a bus down to the river Thames, found a small hippy cafe, and was happily chatting to the owner about the life and works of Oscar Wilde, a subject I was much more comfortable with than anything the pre-teens had to offer me. I had twenty quid, and was happily munching chips and drinking coke whilst I read my book in the lovely peaceful cafe, with the wonderful herby smell.

Meanwhile my mum was going out of her mind. She had arrived in Green Lanes to find that I was nowhere to be found! She had police hunting for me, and a troop of her friends and family too. I was happily unaware of the hours passing.

Anyway, the cafe owner alerted me to the time and the fact that she wanted to close up. She asked me where my parents were and I replied ' I don't have any. They died in a boat crash' and promptly left. I got on the bus back to North London, with the intenetion of waiting for my mum outside the quaker hall as if all was normal and I had attended the required theatre session. When I got there , I was met by flashing blue lights, police and general hubbub, and for the second time that day I thought that I was going to be arrested for nicking off.

I was suddenly slapped around the back of my head so hard by my mum. She screamed incoherently for a good ten minutes at me, then I was marched off by police and asked if I had been abducted, molested or generally harrassed, to which my answer was 'No. I just didn't want to do theatre so I went off to a nice cafe near the river and talked about Oscar Wilde.'

Nobody was impressed.

Flatmate.

I love Allie (writer of the hyperbole and a half blog) and I have been reading her blog for a while now, and was reading some archived posts when I stumbled across 'Roomates part 3' So I read it, found it hilarious and near enough to one of my own experiences that I'm sure you will find amusing. So here it is

Flatmate.

I have had a few flatmates, due to my insecurity and dislike of being alone. The oddest and most amusing one was a girl a few years youunger than me, who was possibly the weirdest person I have ever met. I'm only going to tell you three little stories, backed up by my amazing narrative about her personal hygine standards and the state of her room. Her room was like a nuclear bomb fallout zone. A mess of dirty and clean washing, heaped indiscrimanently onto the carpet, with spilt ashtrays and empry alcohol bottles and plates of half eaten mouldering food, rotting milk in glasses topped with cigarette ends and false eyelashes, and a permeating odour of cats pee and unwashed underwear. Her bed was encompassed by this mess, and to top it all off her kitten's litter tray was also in the room and the effect was generally that of an alleyway behind a bar, where cats like to pee.

1) Neighbour Sex

So one day me and the flatmate had a party. She, as usual, got roaring drunk, exposed herself to the neighbours, cried, talked about her dad and generally made a total tit of herself. At this point she was engaged in a casual affair with the next door neighbour. So I get tired of her drunken self loathing and me and Scott go to bed. Only to be woken up half an hour later by the incredibly loud sounds of sex coming from the garden, just outside our room window. It's only flatmate out there, stark bollock naked, atop the similarly naked neighbour on the grass, riding him like Red Rum, screaming to Sweet Jesus and all that cared. I was so so shocked I burst out laughing. But I decided that something must be done. So I ventured out into the garden to try and stem the lawn activites. I was met by more screaming, a broken chair and a loose rabbit. I politely kept my distance and asked for them to stop, or use a blanket in the name of common decency. So I got a barrage of drunken abuse, followed by her dismounting Seabiscuit the neighbour and them both walking into his house. I saw alot of full frontal nudity.

2) Robot

I take flatmate to spend a few days in Southend with my darling Laura. Flatmate wants to go out and get drunk. So we go. And she becomes a evil drunken mess and accuses the poor guy who was kind enough to give us a ride home of being a creep. She insults my friends and gets us a good few funny looks. We return to Laura's mothers house, where flatmate passes out on couch after a pletoria of drunken insults directed at my friends. Anyway we took this opportunity to draw on her :) and she had several slogans on her face, pertaining to her similarity to that of crockery. Flatmate wakes up and shouts 'Robot!!!' somehow, in my warped and twisted mind, I know she means that she wants to vomit, so we try and get her to the toilet, where she sucessfully expels the vast quantities of alcohol and fried food down the loo pan.

3) Public Masturbation

Flatmate gets hammered whislt her friends are over. She molests a poor boy into her boodwah and then proceeds to masturbate infront of him. He is a) terrified and b) bewildered so he yells to us for help. We all enter her boodwah, to be greeted by a show worthy of Amsterdam. At this point, I was absolutely hysterical and this drew the attention of a few more people. Don't think that put her off!! Oh No. She carried on, in full veiw of us all, flicking the bean! That was probably the oddest and most weird moment of my life. We left her to it.

In hindsight, this girl is a funny and captivating charachter, and her issues are brought on by serious alcohol and insecurity mixed. But for me, that was the last flatmate ever, apart from the possum himself and my daughter and kitties. xxx

Friends Who Drop You When They Find Someone Better

I am not a bitchy girl. After living on planet earth for 23 years, I have learnt that I prefer being liked to disliked. But omg. Some people are horrible! Like this one person I know will only call me if all the other plans they have made have fallen through. Or another who, if bored and lacking anyone sufficiently stuck up and self obsessed, will call and ask to come round. I could go on and on. But thats boring. So thank god for my true friends.

Tom Cats

Omg. Tom Cats. Outside in my back garden. Howling!!! Well I was at a loss of what to do yesterday at 5am, so I went to my daughters bedroom window and opened it slowly and asked the cats their business' Hey kitty. Are you lost? Would you like some food maybe? Poor kitty. Now Mr Kitty, please stop howling outside 'cos I'm tired, and I havent slept in the night for ages, and you are sooo pooping my party.' and off I go, back to bed.

6am - 'rrrrrrrrrrRRRRRRRRRRRRRRrrrrrrrrrrOOOOOOOOOOOwWWWWWWWWWWWWWllllLLL'

I pretend I am in a palnet surrounded by howling cats, and the only way I will sleep is by listening to them serenade me.

7am-

'SSSSSSSSSSSSSSsssssssssssssssssRRRRRRRRRRRRoooooooooooWWWWWWWWWWWWLLLL

CCCCCCCccchhhhhhhhhhhaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrriiiiiiiiiiioooooooollllllllllllwwwwwwwwlllllllll'

Ok now I'm pissed. I get up and go to my back door. I arm myself with a wooden spoon and a small roll of black tape. I open door, throw spoon, get a pot shot. Cat runs away. But now I remember that my Tesco.com order is due at 9am and if I go back to sleep I will miss it. So I have a bath.

Tom Cat reappears and howling destroys my precious watery solitude. I try to finish bathing, but this fails so I wash hair, get out and return to back door. I still have the black tape and as an extra precaution have gathered various kitchen utensils and general implements of evil peace-breaching Tom Cat destruction.

At this point, I would like to add that I love cats. I am totally unmalevolent towards any animal. But when I have been rudely awoken and disturbed, I am not the most forgiving person.

There is now two Tom Cats. They are fighting.

I use my ammo.

Bye Bye Tom Cats.

5pm - Tom Cats are back. Scott tears himself away from XBox live to go to the window (unbeknownst to me) and bark like a dog. I poop myself and jump up high in the air.....

Its now 6.05 am UK time. I am still awake. There is still Tom Cats..........

Xbox live

So, Mrs Smartass got her boyfriend XBox Live. Well. What a smart move on my part. We have hardly spoke in the three days since I made the account, and any amounts of yelling through a headset at a unknown person and staring at a screen has begun to drive me insane. The game of choice appears to be Command and Conquer, and for those that are blissfully unaware of what this is, its a war game where you bulid a base and an army and go kill each other. Fun. I actually dont mind the game in moderation, but watching it for three days solid and hearing nothing from my beloved but profanities and occasional whoops of joy has begun to take its tolll and I am fast becoming a neglected girlfriend. Today, in my attempt at relationship reconciliation, I made us a chinese meal for two (see cooking post) and hoped that a pleasant evening would ensue. To my dismay, a small troop of boyfriends cronies appeared and they all sat around in the living room screaming obscenities and smoking. So I withdrew to my bed and watched some good old Howls Moving Castle and had a pig-out on sweets. So to any of you girlies out there, that think that XBox live is a good idea, it isnt. And to any dudes who enjoy spending 99.9% of their time on XBox live,  well, someone misses your real interaction. And the profanity screaming is verrryyyy annoying!!

Peace!

Azzie xxxxxx