Important

Most cool girls are totally fucked up because they are used to guys telling them they are "cool" or "funny" or "smart" and they assume it's a euphemism for "not hot" because they already feel like dudes with boobs. But that's okay because a hundred percent of cool guys are fucked up too and secretly feel like girls with dicks. Straight men are sooooooooo pink inside. They just can't tell you or anyone, because they have been socialized expressly not to. But I just told you you, and now everybody knows.

Dating tips

I absolutely adore ('not adore') the MSN 'dating' section. It pops up on the 'Today' screen whenever I log in to MSN (which is often. LOL @ people who think I no longer login to MSN - I'm totes there, lurking*, I just set myself to 'offline' because I'm no better at polite conversation online than I am in 'real' life. God I used to be SUCH an MSN whore I sometimes think my soul was removed at some point in the last four years and replaced by someone completely different who had all my memories implanted and THINKS they're still 'me' but actually they're someone completely different**) and it has loads ('not loads') of useful tips on how to stop being single, find a boyfriend, stop being so fat, find a boyfriend, etc (as we all know your worth as a woman is measured entirely in how many men you can make want to sleep with you). Today's hints and tips can be found here and are, as ever, completely revelatory and mind-blowing. In that they will blow your mind because of how, after reading these tips, you will want to take a gun to your head and pull the trigger.

In case you have not are unable to understand the concept of 'hyperlinking' (maybe you were raised in a cave by wolves, or are from Gosport - basically the same thing - or maybe you are from the future and have uncovered this corner of the webosphere in what counts as archaeology these future days) I will recreate the headlines for you:

1. 45-minute showers (as in 'don't')
2. Spoilt pets (as in 'don't')
3. "Casual Sunday" (as in 'don't')
4. All TV, all the time (as in 'don't')
5. Biscuits in bed (as in 'don't')
6. Aimless whistling (as in 'don't')
7. Lack of matching crockery (as in 'don't')

Let me just take a second to remind you that this list is 100% fo' realz. Not a parody of stupid obvious vapid lists that the media are satuarated with, it's sincerely a stupid obvious vapid list that the media is satuarated with. I can boil this down further into 'don't be such a fucking annoying slob lard-o'. Which is good advice I guess (because of course no-one who is a fucking annoying slobby ol' lard-o is in a relationship. Onslow from Keeping Up Appearences and Skins being the sole exception) but the idea that you might not be able to make an honest, deep, beautiful connection with someone due to your lack of knowledge about the kitchen section at Ikea is depressing (I say this as a person who regularly enjoys opening my kitchen cupboard just to stare wistfully at my matching big plates, little plates and bowls all lined up at right angles and nestling up to one another like identical new-born kittens (or something) and sighing contentedly). Or that wearing your jim-jams till after the Antiques Roadshow on a Sunday (at which point there's little point in getting dressed 'properly' because who are you the fucking Queen? Who gives a shit??) might preclude you from forming a reciprocal, meaningful, life-long bond with another human being. These lists are so reductive and pointless. If I stop eating in bed will I get a boyfriend? Who cares! Let them eat cake! In bed! if they so wish. Here's a better list:

1. Go to therapy
2. Be kind
3. Be mindful and open to the world around you
4. Be passionate about the things you find interesting
5. Think for yourself
6. Learn how to be the most 'you' version of you that's possible, completely and without apology (see point 1)
7. Ignore stupid obvious vapid lists

If you do all that then whether or not you find a romantic partner won't actually matter but may in fact be a pleasant consequence of such action. God, when will I be made president of the world? I sure hope it is soon!

*Just like in real life in fact!
** Memo to self: Maybe mention this to therapist***
*** Or maybe don't. Pretty sure she'll think I'm crazy.

I know being a lady of the ‘men = hummana hummana’ persuasion I’m supposed to find bodies such as Mr Reynolds attractive but I look at it and go ‘how much time do you suppose he spent getting himself to look that way when he could have been napping or watching tv or, god forbid, reading a book?’ and it kills any whiff of lust stone-cold dead.

SO EXCITED

Nic says:
When i come to Pompey, I am so taking you to POMPEY NOSH
Sazz says:
YUM!!!!!!!!
We could have burgers or chilli or chilli and burgers !!!!!!!1!one
Nic says:
ELEVEN
I'll have burgers and you can have chilli
then we can cut each one in half and have BOTH
Sazz says:
THIS IS WHY YOU ARE THE BRAINS BEHIND THE OPERATION

This is why we don't date lead singers.

This is how it works, all the time: Like you're smoking pot but like permanently, so everything that happens around you is suffused with tremendous meaning and an unbreakable spirit, because of how you live up your own rectum and assume everybody else is robots that are interested in what it's like to be you at all times. Those amazing moments where you put on your one sock and then your other sock and then your one shoe and then your other shoe and then you were just like, "Yeah. Yeah, I get it." Like the universe is a special greeting card God picked out just for you. That's why Ani DiFranco can write thirty-seven songs about the same ten-minute period in her life where she got her period while washing the dishes, and why it feels so new and fresh and not-at-all cynical each time: Because of these moments, you guys. They're all we have! We must live them! As soon as I finish telling you about my moments and how they made me feel.

[Via]

CORRECT.

(I think this is also why people don't date me?)

Good point, well made.

I mean, I love this movie. Sorry, but I do. However, it had never occured to me before that yes, maybe it is a bit weird that there is only one pair of gloves in Bloomingdales that would be suitable for the hands of both John Corbett and Bridget Moyahan. And not just suitable, but appropriate and thoughtful enough that both John Corbett and Bridget Moyahan would be thrilled to receive such a gift come Christmas morning. I can tell you now future suitors, should you want to impress me with your gift-buying prowess, then a lame-ass pair of black gloves that can fit the hands of John Corbett (a very big, tall, solid MAN with, presumably, large hands to boot) is not gonna fly. Similarly, any girls out there who think their man will want a pair of gloves that fit the hands of the dainty, feminine Bridget Moyahan maybe need to spend more time actually getting to know their beau (and recognising he would NEVER want such a shitty, thoughtless present FROM HIS GIRLFRIEND of all people -may be acceptable from his Great Aunt Sally - cos that bitch is crazy and lives in Wichita and he hasn't seen him since he was 3. But this is his GIRLFRIEND we are talking about) instead of writing your name and number on copies on a pretty good book and flirting with strangers who are themselves already dating giant man-hand women.

I think this movie should have ended up with Corbett and Bridget getting it on. Think of the money they would save buying gloves!

Dream Weavers

It's not very often I get really excited about people finding love (normally it makes me want to throw up in my mouth a little). Not that I'm bitter you understand, just cynical after YEARS and YEARS of disappointments (I may also be a little bitter) but Neil Gaiman and Amanda Palmer getting engaged really warms my cockles.

In many ways I truly believe that I'm just that little bit *too* weird to find someone who would put up with me but also, I like that weirdness and would kind of like to find someone who not only understands why my lunacy is awesome, but also has their own unique brand of bizarre for me to kick back and appreciate on my days off from working the crazy train you know? I'm not talking about the type of guy who is exactly like me but with man parts instead of the womb and vagina that I was blessed with, I mean someone who can bring their own awesome to the table and it meshes well with my awesome. Like, I'm humous and they're pitta bread. I mean, they're different, but MAAAAAN are they good together you know? Sometimes that seems like a dream too far (apart from the times when I am eating humous with warm pitta bread and I don't care about anything in the world except for how awesome it is inside my mouth at that moment in time) but VERY occassionally along comes a couple who epitomises this dream in every way and just happens to be real. Neil and Amanda got their own thang workin' for them but put it together and it becomes even bigger and more beuatiful than the sum of it's parts... which allows me to feel hopeful that maybe one day I could find that too.

I mean, if I don't, then no biggie but it'd be cool if I did ya know? You know.

Real Talk

Sazz says:
also i think we should all go see its complicated
the mumest movie to end all mum movies
kieran says:
i know right
except
Sazz says:
but STARRING JACK DONAGHY
kieran says:
I KNOW
JACK
Sazz says:
RIGHT???
kieran says:
jackie boy
Sazz says:
totes
mgoats
kieran says:
ergo it must be good

Resolve

I seem to have lost weight over crimbo which is INSANE given that people have been trying to force feed me roast dinners every seven minutes (this is a joke I keep making with my fam and they're like 'actually Sazz, how many roast dinners have you eaten over the last two weeks in truths?' and I'll be all 'umm... well two I guess' and then I get that look that suggests I've taken the exaggeration gene I was blessed with and run A MILLION MILES with it (more jokes)) but I have consumed a shit load of cheese and wine which is rarely listed in the Rosemary Conley Diet book [sub-title: to give you an overly firm body for a woman your age and a frightenly stretched haggard look on your face making you an inadvertant walking advertisement for staying plump] which is a roundabout way of saying - the usual 'lose weight/be miserable' new years maxim is out for 2010. I'm going to try this revolutionary thing of eating 3 meals a day and exercising when the mood strikes rather than feeling constantly guilty for not wacking on the lycra and doing 1000 sit ups a day. Not yet anyway. Plus, I'm pretty happy with how I look at the mo (except for my tummy which is the cause of ALL my worries and sadness and problems and depression. Science. If I ever manage to get it flat I'll be perfect and unendingly happy. Fact. You guys know how joyful Amy Winehouse and Kate Moss are right? Exactly) and the dudes may not be lining up but they don't seem to be throwing up in my face either (and isn't that the ultimate goal girls? To have your existance validated by the mens finding you sexually attractive? RIGHT?! YAY FEMINISM!). So what are the goals of 2010 then? Well, I wanna DO stuff. Stuff that I wanna do cos I wanna do it. This is similarly revolutionary stuff I know.

On the 'for shiz mniz' list is
- go see a ballet (cultural!)
- go see an Opera ('alright Alain de Botton we get it!')
- go see a musical (Michael Ball touring Hairspray coming to a city near me did you say? HOLLA ATCHA BOY!)
- get through my ever-lengthening 'films to watch' list
- write write write lots and lots and lots. A children's story about Gods that pull the wings off of flies. Falling into other dimensions through knots in oak trees. That kinda thing. Plus blog. Must be more enamoured with blog. Have started off well I hope you notice.
- CRAFT! Finish biggest cross stitch the world has ever seen (Grandma: 'maybe you could use it to cover something? Have you got a pouf that needs sprucing?' Me: 'well... yeeees')
- Socialise. With people. Outside of my house. Willingly and smiling.
- Finally, and most importantly, continue being awesome if not more so. Last year I severely deprived the world of my magic and for this I can only apologise.

Plus other shit but you don't want to know about my financial situation (do you?? Weirdo) or finding a pair of trousers that hides my belly but doesn't sag on my ass (LITERALLY IMPOSSIBLE). Now I am off to achieve my hopes and dreams. Wish me luck!

2009 vs 2010

Less drunk [2009] (please note: insane hotness being worked here)


More drunk [2010] (please note: camera angle, wideness of smile)


Less drunk [2010 -12.05am] (note: strategically placed Sazz kisses)


More drunk [2010 2.35am] (note: grumpiness, amusement at grumpiness)


(Can't recall if that was before or after he went to sleep against that lamp post and fell over a bit. Do remember lolling at it lots though)

Note to self

"Real love doesn't make you act crazy. The reason we act crazy when we are infatuated is because we want it to be real so badly -- we want to jump over the distance of time that makes real love what it is. That's the trick of romance: The crazy infatuation love is so much brighter and turns so many more corners so quickly. Much more exciting than the real thing. But real love, at its finest, makes you feel like you are bursting open, like this: Like hearing a beautiful song, or reading a beautiful poem, or hearing a wonderful story, and the tears come and you don't know precisely why. It doesn't hurt; it hurts in a way that isn't hurting, that we don't have a word for. Largeness. Enormity. It takes a real strength, a real grace, to stand up straight in the face of that. Especially if you're not familiar with it."

I honestly don't know if I'd be the person I am today without Jacob Clifton, he's everything you want from a writer; funny, wise, and honest. Every time I reach a new apex in this crazy little journey we call life he's there with some new words of truth that help me interpret what I've just experienced - it's more than a little eerie in fact.

Anyhoo, just remind me of this next time kay?

Cherry Cherry

This just totally cheered me right up



Did you know that Neil Diamond is a white witch and puts magic in his songs and that's why they make you feel so good when you listen to them? TRUTHS.



Sazz fact: I actually quite fancy Jason Biggs when he has Neil Diamond hair.

Oy Vey!

This movie looks gay.



Rhymez AND lazy cultural stereotypes?!?!?!! I'M THERE!!!!!1!!!

It is nice that members of Queer Eye for the Straight Guy that are not Carson Kressley are still getting work.

New Loon

I always thought it was Robert Patterson. Patterson is a nice sounding name. If you whisper it fast lots of times, you sound like a train (that is how I gage how nice a word is: does it sound like a train if you say it quietly lots of times? Yes? Good word. c.f. 'serendipity', 'chubby', 'syllable'. Does it make you throw up in your mouth when you see, hear, or say it? Not a good word. c.f. 'clunge', 'moist', 'ointment'*).

Imagine my shock and dismay when I discover it's Robert PattINson! That is not a name that trips easily off the tongue. I have to concentrate and over enunciate every syllable. It bothers me. 'Patt-in-son'. It requires effort and thought. Considerably much more effort and thought and pre-planning than Patterson which is as easy as a two-bit whore.

In summary, Twilight ruins everything. I'm not sure how this is your fault exactly Twilight but I know I blame you anyway. I will also not be asking Robert Pattinson to be my husband - it would never work if I had to think about saying his name that much: 'How are you my husband Mr Robert Patt-in-son?' / 'Mr Robert Patt-in-son, would you mind doing the dishes tonight seeing as I fucking cooked AGAIN?' / 'I'm going out. No I don't know where. Look, this just isn't working Mr Robert Patt-in-son. I hate saying your name - it's too stressful! I want a divorce! Also, you still haven't done those fucking dishes and your hair looks too intricately tousled for someone so obviously trying to affect an air of slacker nonchalance. I don't know why I married you in the first place Mr Robert Patt-in-son!'

See?

Breathe easy Kristen 'you look totally lesbian-y, you sure you're straight?' Stewart - your man is safe!

*Oh god now I've written it those words are going to be in my head for the rest of the day. That means my mouth will also be filled with sick for the rest of day!

Sometimes...

... you are forced to explain the most basic of shit to people who really should know better by now.

Sazz said:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ngZZsFAwnnw
kieran said:
seen it
looks pretty awesome
kieran said:
lols
kieran said:
aragorn seems well cast
kieran said:
wait
kieran said:
why is ghostbusters playing on top of it?
Sazz said:
because of lols
because of the internet
have you met the internet before?
Sazz said:
this is kind of its schtick

Two tribes go to war

A month ago I went to see Simon Amstell doing stand up in Truro , where, interestingly I found that it doesn't matter where you go in the UK every Wetherspoons on a Friday night is filled with the exact same people. Which was comforting and depressing in equal measure. There is the River Island tribe in stripey shirts and the occasional shouts of 'whey!' to ensure their dominance is signaled to the other pub patrons, there are their older counterparts - good, hard, British men who smoke and make comments to the girls that are decked out in tiny skirts and tinier tops, there is the underage punk/goth kids who have (presumably) been thrown out of every other establishment and are thus left with the only option of entering the one pub in the land that is the antithesis for all they believe in but, crucially, is the only one that will serve them without ID checking - though, to be fair, having grown up in a provincial English town myself, your choices are limited as far as 'alternative' entertainment goes at that age - unless you know someone with a car willing to drive you around for free (in my case these persons were known as 'Mum' and 'Papa Mikey') it's Wetherspoons or Wetherspoons for cheap Friday night entertainment if booze is your only consideration (once 'good atmosphere' and 'pleasant surroundings' enter into the equation you are old enough to transport yourself wherever your heart may desire and have the appropriate paper work to not run the risk of being turned away so Wetherspoons frequenting becomes less of a necessity). Then of course there is me and my friend who wanted quorn chilli and a pint of cider to while away the time before Simon Amstell took to the stage. Once again an oddity wherever we may be. That is until other Amstell fans start showing up in tight jeans and colourful sweaters and ironic 'Neil Diamond' t-shirts and curly hair (none of which I have but I clearly have more to do with this tribe than any of the others - we share shy looks at recognition at one another when we pass in the pub and later, when we are in the venue, our eyes occasionally meet again and we nod imperceptibly).

I just can't decide whether I like that. That I can be sure I know what I'll find in a Wetherspoons no matter where I am in the country on a Friday night OR if this signals a supreme lack of imagination on our fair isle as to the tribes we each sign up for and what that entails. Regardless, the show was intensely inspiring and sort of proved that, every now and again, there exists an individual unlike anyone else. (That person is me)*

*Jokes.

Huh

I only really fancy Demetri Martin when he looks like Cat Stevens...

...but I don't fancy Cat Stevens.



No, wait. I do in that picture. Carry on.

The sun and moon sing their own sweet tune

I just watched this



and now it has made me sing this

Also made me want to fall in love with a complicated French girl with bad teeth on a train to Vienna rather than a douchey American that wears leather in summer but we all had that reaction right? Not just me? Cool beans.

I'm Fucking Out, You're Fucking In

I had totally forgotten that Kenny Powers was in Saved by the Bell: The College Years.



If there is one thing sexier than a gelled curly mullet... well, there is nothing sexier than a gelled curly mullet. Fact.

Three rules to live by

I've already posted this on my facebook but I'm placing it here as well so I don't have to log on to facebook to easily find it. A bit of background, there's a new Apatow movie coming out called Funny People. They're doing LOADS of virals for it (all of which I fear will be better than the actual film itself). Randy is a fake comic in the style of Dane Cook who will be featured in the movie and this is a fake documentary they made for the fake comic. You see? Simple is as simple does my friends. Anyhoo, his DJ is my new hero. Here 'tis:

Raaaaaaaandy - Part 1 (Funny People) from Aziz Ansari

I'm going to get a black eye soon if I don't quit do DJ Ol' Youngin' impressions and yet I don't care. It never stops being laugh out loud (llol = literally lots of love) funny.