Posts from the FOOD Category

My mobile phone remains unfound but I’ve managed to tidy my flat up in the search for it so it’s not an altogether terrible thing to have lost.

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I put lipliner, a lipgloss and some blusher on today. I’m thinking of making a youtube tutorial about it. (I’m not, that’s a joke. I’m trying to be funny. Sometimes I try to be funny on the internet and I am unsuccessful at being funny because most of the funny things I write are short statements that can be taken quite seriously by people who don’t share my humour.) (I am actually quite offended by people who do make up tutorials but haven’t studied make up or worked as a make up artist.) (Or studied chemistry, so that they can explain the ingredients. Why are so many women ‘famous’ for make up tutorials? I appreciate the idea of using your ‘personality’ to entertain people but so few people on the internet actually have a personality or care to admit what might’ve inspired their tastes in interiors or make up – and that kind of theft will only ever make you “famous” for a little while.)

The idea that people who studied and worked – and got bullied – for the notoriety that they aspired to just as much as uneducated celebrities that aspire to act but probably couldn’t write dissertation length essays analysing in depth the personalities of the characters they’ve been cast for is also offensive.

I am complaining a lot on my blog but my audiences, I’ve learned, only seem to enjoy knowing that I’m suffering.

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I like my outfit today. It’s a hand-me-down H&M shirt dress that I was given about twelve or so years ago now. I’m unsure it’s ever been washed and I’d quite like to have it taken in, in places.

This is what I look like without make up or fake tan.

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This was brunch. A pork steak with egg, mushrooms, sliced tomato and a spring onion.

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This might be the worst photograph I’ve ever taken but I love the edit.

I need a frame for this. How cute is my guide? (Well, I have a few guides – but how cute is this one?) (the female one with the eyelashes) (a lot of people/beings come with other halves, if you’re going to pursue a spirituality it’s wise to start with the ten commandments – basics – “don’t steal” “don’t covet” – you know. Before you decide between light and dark, know that you’re responsible enough without labelling yourself as either.

“Know thyself” is a really important one for spiritual people pursuing fame. Or have a teacher that knows the real you – so when you lose yourself she or he only needs to say one thing and she’ll have you running to your room crying happy tears because she remembers who you are, even after you’ve been through hell and back.

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If I do get invited to act – I’ll be taking this role. You won’t find anyone better.

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The image above is Toph from the children's Nickelodeon series - Aang the Last Airbender. 
The story of how I came to like this show is pretty good. I'll save it for my INTERVIEWS.

I’ll upload a picturegraph of me soon with make up to justify why I’d also be a great Azula incase you can’t find someone else.

I know I could do both.

I’m having a snuggly period day. I contacted the Citizens Advice Bureau regarding my issues with the Job Centre and quite frankly that was exhausting. I have emailed their ‘manager’ and he’s yet to respond – either he is stressed out because he has to fire at least three people or he’s in on it. I read somewhere that 83% or so people in the UK have a job. If that is the case – why did the Job Centre fight to justify giving me £317 pounds a month to live off? As if this country is struggling? The amount increased after a conversation I shouldn’t of been forced to have – but they really tried pushing that I should be able to live on £317 a month.

Either way I have to locate a small diary of mine and start an official complaint with DWP. I can’t locate my phone either which is a nightmare. Not because I use it to socialise but because I missed a call from Tescos about a shop and I was asleep when they were scheduled to arrive. I’ve no idea how I didn’t hear the bell, the bell is loud and my flat is small. And I quite like it like that.

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I’ve finally invested in a clothing rail. It’s from John Lewis and it’s very sensibly priced. If you’re looking for a rail that’s under £40 that won’t slide to the left with a few heavy items then click here. I’ll get a better picturegraph soon, when I’ve colour coordinated and arranged as many garments onto it as I can manage.

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A neighbour is coming over to help me organise my flat, install a lock in my bathroom and on my window and to put up a feature wall with some wilko wallpaper (I want to insert one of those big grin emojis but it’s actually a very nice wallpaper). That bottle of wine on my counter is for him. I’ll need a better photograph of that too – the art is inspired by a Titan Goddess called Eon and I bought it from a local shoppe here. It’s not an old wine but I think it’ll look nice ageing in his kitchen. I ought to get him some other bits too.

Edited to add: Here's the photo of the wine that I promised myself I'd upload.

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And the back.

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"Eos is a Titaness and the Goddess of the dawn, who rose each morning from her home at the edge of the Oceanus to announce her brother Helios, the sun. 
As Goddess of the dawn it was her duty to open the gates of heaven so Helios could drive his chariot across the sky every day."

[edited Wednesday the Seventeenth of April, 2019]

I watched a few episodes of Salad Fingers and Marie Antoinette today. I want to invest in adding sleeves to everything I own. I am a sleeve person.

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I had elderflower cordial, lemon and nectarine noodles with lemon, red pepper, sweetcorn and garlic and a ferrero rocher today, before having 1000 mg of a painkiller (paracetamol – every tablet is 500mg) that has yet to help the pain at all. I know that people have been prescribed weed for my bowel condition but the fact that women can have period cramps like mine and sooner be encouraged to take harmful medicines that stay in your body for twenty five years (and trust me – they do) is terrible. If you really think that both the NHS and the pharmaceutical companies manufacturing these medicines don’t benefit from the lies that pharmacists and doctors are often bribed to tell, to endorse these drugs you’re completely foolish. Did you know that as far as the sciences go, we’ve reached breakthroughs that mean that technically NO ONE should experience pain? It shouldn’t be a thing anymore. As in the NHS and their manufacturers sell you medicine that keeps you ill and test their new drugs on you (they do, and they do not have to tell you they’re doing it either) – you might’ve heard the phrase “it’s a new drug” – thats code for “you’re a test subject”.

When I was about seventeen or sixteen I had a birthday in Camden. My friends and I smoked shisha at a bar there and some strangers came and sat beside us. It was a heterosexual couple and I remember them often. The woman, as I recall, wore a hat and had short hair. She told me that she worked for a company that manufactured drugs for people with AIDS and that the disease officially had a cure. This was years ago. She told me that it was technically an inexpensive drug.

A teacher of mine once told me, knowing that I had an “audience” of sorts of promiscuous and irresponsible gay men who weren’t pursuing love but were pursuing as much sex as they possibly could – to avoid gay men. She did not explain why. She taught me (a person who sort of used to wish she was a boy and who used to scream “IM A BOY” at her mother and who might’ve been born a hermaphrodite but whatever) not to have sex with someone until I’d been in their company for two weeks. Some people can have sex without getting attached emotionally, those people – she told me – make fantastic prostitutes. Some people get attached emotionally when they have sex and obviously they do not make fantastic prostitutes because it ends up damaging them psychologically. The gay men I thought of at the time – some of which were actually probably more effeminate than me – ended up having successful, first attempts at serious long term relationships using her advice. If you have sex with someone before a two week period of spending time together constantly – it will only ever be about sex. It’ll be a prolonged one night stand. At the time I didn’t realise why she’d said what she said, about homosexuals – an uncle of hers had died of aids and had not been told he had it by the STD clinics. It is a form of population control. She is a person of colour, and the virus was initially administered to people of colour and it was easiest to do so through homosexual men. Do not trust the NHS or STD clinics – if you are promiscuous and if you have unprotected sex (I am not promiscuous but I do have unprotected sex – I am severely allergic to latex) invest in a private GP. I recommend Dr Coxon – Lady Diana visited her. She was tested positive as pregnant shortly before her murder. (Not awkward at all)

Fortunately people can be moved into new bodies, a fact I’m sure people have become aware towards. (They’re not ‘computers’, they’re new bodies. AWKWARD ISN’T IT)

The NHS refused to continue employing Dr Coxon after she made a habit of insisting treatment for children whose families were being lied to about whether they could benefit from said treatments. As in – children who were going to be left to die by the NHS.

Nothing is free, the NHS convinces you it is – but it isn’t. And be careful with giving out sperm for STD checks – they do sell it on if you’re fertile and free of STDs. Why on Earth do you think that they need to check your SPERM for STDS?

If I am given a prescription to smoke weed – and I should be, if not for my condition then at the very least for the PTSD that the NHS are responsible for and a life story that would  probably make me quite eligible for euthanasia in certain countries – I will probably test the weed being provided by the NHS, but realistically when I know (trust me on this) that most of the weed being sold on the streets is being sold by the police (sad, isn’t it.) and that the pharmaceutical companies are so deeply invested in keeping people on drugs that give them more problems than they solve, and that the uneducated social “elite” (we can’t call you that anymore, you are comparatively less educated than most of our countries poor people that you keep poor) are still convinced that cannabis perpetuates proletariat subcultures and gang warfare when – it is really just our police – I will probably have to research the laws on growing. And even then I’m uncertain and uneducated about the strains attached to the seeds being sold on the market.

I recently telephoned the police with regards to making them aware that I was pretty certain my laptop was being hacked by locals (I went to University with a ‘youtube celebrity’ so I have no doubts that there are ‘youtube celebrities’ that know who I am, I was unimpressed by ‘youtube celebrity’ then and I continue to be for the most part. External beauty I am always impressed by, for a time) and I did discuss the local laws pertaining to weed here. No one will share a contact with me because they all know that I’m stalked by the police, too.

Who cares that I’m in constant physical pain. Haha. Who cares that I’m probably tired because my body has to exert energy to not feel that pain. Haha.

Imagine if all the footballers, police and other stupid people just dropped fucking dead. Haha.

O0o Dinner is an avocado, an onion, a tomato, lemon and seven prawns. But it’s being served with vintage silver wear on a tray (I think the fork was a tenner from the local brick-a-brack) so I’m still fancy. #5vegetablesaday

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(I’m sitting here laughing that people actually think that this is a legitimate meal portion. And technically I’ve eaten more king prawns today – fourteen – than most people are served at Chinese Restaurants in a single portion.)

I overate today. For breakfast I had two bacon in Vietnamese rice paper rolls coated with lemon and caramel. Then I ate a salad. I ate a lot of bacon in moments between that. I also ate a lot of biscuits. Then I had a pasta with pesto and salad for dinner. I’m about to serve myself another serving of pasta. I have cooked enough pasta for about thirty people this evening. No like. come on, self. Probably three or four servings worth for very, very hungry people. I used half a jar of pesto for my first serving. I imagine I will use the other half now. I am still hungry.

So as avid readers know – I know I must have a few of you, though I imagine most of you have downloaded Tor or some other anonymous browser. That’s actually really rude but whatever. I’m sorting out my flat a little bit every day. I moved the boxes by my cupboard a bit.

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gradual. a process.

the living area of my flat is “art studio slash games room slash “wardrobe”

my kitchen vibe is chinese/japanese/tibetan/thai cottage cum apothecary cum acupuncturists medicinal cabinet

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I made some wings using pressed tulip petals. i enjoy pressing flowers. I placed them on the illustration above. If you are into 3D work or  special effects, I recommend using tulips as fairy wings. They dry really well and have ‘veins’.

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I’m putting together a collection of greetings cards, called “seventeen”. Iunno when they’ll be done but I’d like to sell them locally.

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If I “inspire” you, credit me. I have no doubt that my ideas have made countless people money – the least you can do is credit the person that inspired you. That kind of decency comes back to you many times over.

And remember that just because you can access a memory where I get a psychic reading, doesn’t mean it’s free. I had to pay for those – so once again, have the decency to credit me for paying for information you convinced yourself was for you. Also – I have made it abundantly easy to get in touch with me on the internet. If you want a psychic reading you can BUY ONE off ME. I am amongst the best psychics you will EVER meet and I have helped more people to realise truths about existence on this Planet than I will ever perhaps be given credit for.

 

#OOTD
Heartshaped Glasses - Amazon | Earring - HM 2016 | Dress | 
Tights - BLOCH | Shoes - Public Desire

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The best thing about this look is the tights from BLOCH. 
Dancer's tights are better value for your money than any other tights
you'll find on the market. 

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They pull you in in all the right places and they can take pressure - 
they don't snag easily.

I do not ascribe to the cheap consumerist culture of buying shitty
pairs of tights and then throwing them out after you've worn them
once or twice.  Invest in decent tights - they last for years.
Learn how to take care of tights too. These are handwash only.

First things first.

Nearly totally wet me’self on what turned out to be like a nigh on one hour walk to the bank IN HEELS. Thanks to the pub that let me use their loo.

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I’m really enjoying ponytails and fringes, I did a meditation with the woman who illustrated the Rider Waite Tarot cards. For a limited time only I’ll be doing readings on my site channelling her – as you all know I can. Pamela Colman Smith. The internet is telling everyone she liked to call herself “Pixie” – that is nonsense. If I picked a parent for her in this time and place, I would pick Dre. I actually struggle to believe that she would’ve made ‘nicknames’ public – she died lonely, alone and friendless. As she would have, Tarot cards have given their readers a lot of power and knowledge that has threatened the patriarchy deeply. She was from Brooklyn. She was in various SECRET societies. She valued the vibration in a NAME. “pixie“? Really? No, no thank you. Later I shall upload some photographs of me that I found in an old diary. There’s one where I wear necklaces the way she does. I love the thought of her time travelling to dress me. If it wasn’t for her cards, and Lisa, I might have died.

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Here’s a life hack. Remember >>this?<<

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I got that to look like that by being a person who decides when she’s gonna pee. And I have had extra large wine bottles shoved up there – much bigger than a baby’s head wine bottles. Ignore the health risks – those are bullshit.

I’m sure I’ll rewrite books on childrearing at some point but if you’re giving birth – smoke weed and masturbate. A lot. Weed is stronger than morphine. I’ve done enough of both  – in serious levels of pain – to know, thank you.

I played dress up in a charity shoppe. I fell in love with this little hairband. I made it look trashy and tacky. Both of those words I comfortably hope to live up to… forever.

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When I was younger, I used to go to shoppes with friends and pick out the most hideous dresses to play dress up with in the changing room. I actually quite liked this one and I left it in the changing room hoping that someone with a little more cash to spend than I had would find it and that it would work for them.

I had to change into ballet shoes because the walk from my place to my bank was mad.

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I went to @Polpo in Brighton yesterday, beside the theatre.

It’s close to fancier shops (I got to take a look around Kurt Geiger, which was still open when I walked out) and a taxi rank.

The atmosphere was unpretentious, and the food was good – although the staff probably need lessons in manners and good service. I felt uncomfortable when two absolutely lovely mature women came in and the lady at the bar didn’t get the fuck out of the bar to help them find seats, or call over one of her colleagues and that’s probably why I’m starting off what would be an otherwise positive review with negativity. I worked in service in bars, restaurants, cafes and in retail, where I struggled to learn the specific details because I take time to settle in – my strength was in making the people I was serving feel like they were being taken care of and they were a priority. My service is so good I will make you feel comfortable being a snob in Slug and Lettuce. As a child, I associated with family who were diplomats and also Jordanian royalty – a descendent of the Prophet Mohammed to be really snide. My vision of the kind of service that deserves being paid-for came from seeing how they were treated, the hostesses at Emirates (I wouldn’t hostess for anyone else and I have issues with their outdated tattoo policy and questionable residency policies also.) and the spiritual school I went to, which taught that service to others was the only worthy aspiration. If you’re one of those wannabe dominatrixes – you have to be able to do both. If you offer shit service you’re never gonna get good service. If you run a business and you aren’t able to do every single job, you can’t expect a standard from anyone else. I’m actually quite offended by people who think they have any business pretending they’re into BDSM – using other people to build your own poor self esteem, or stalking people ‘out of love’ or anything like that is repulsive. It makes you look stupid later when the person you really, really believe really, really wants you to pursue them ends up being superior to you with far less cash. (Cash that you probably stole off your parents without giving anything back. Or cash from a job your parents probably arranged for you.) (All of it – deeply sad.)

Back to Polpo. As I was authoring this (ofcourse I returned to write later-) I heard the words “it’s owned by a vampire” – on Wendy Williams. I had to rewind the video to hear her say “it’s owned by an empire

I didn’t feel unsafe leaving my tap water and my prosecco unattended at the moodily lit bar (it was very new york filter) and I could leave my shopping bags (£1 shoppe and charity shoppe) on the floor beside the bar.
That’s much more significant than you’d think in the U.K – I recall that Danes could leave their drinks unattended in venues in Denmark but I never really felt comfortable doing that because I was a street kid at heart. Keep your things close, at heart. Which is how most Londoners act actually.

It was a comfortable bar that attracted an elegant slash laidback crowd that treated it like a fancy pub – if you go – look nice but not five star nice. ITS A VIBE

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and I got to read through their recipe book – I wish I could’ve afforded to buy a copy because their desserts were fun – and there was a lot of information that made me feel more confident dialoguing with butchers.

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Above I had a Panna Cotta with Tescos mixed berries (which taste 
really good - not a poorly advised purchase nor intended as an insult), 
I had a look at the recipe for the dish in their book and they use a 
lot of vanilla pods - and those aren't cheap. 

It was about £6 for the dessert and if you were looking to go 
somewhere inexpensive for something sweet, I'd recommend it. 

I was genuinely impressed with the level of preparation
that goes into their desserts, actually.

I can comfortably recommend their steak dish, medium rare for me.

As far as critique goes – the meat was well prepared and tasted good. The issue was actually presentation and how it was served – it’s not gourmet dining, and I think the dish should’ve been accompanied by a condiment. I felt rude seasoning it with salt, but it needed something extra.

It was comfortable to eat my meal at the bar, because it was served on a dessert plate. I didn’t feel like I was taking up too much room – even though the bar was active. People weren’t downing their drinks, they were there to converse – and there was no rush or pressure to get people out. I actually felt to stay for longer but I’m on a tight budget right now. If I were trying to plan a date, I wouldn’t feel uncomfortable arranging for a drink, olives and the steak dish as an appetiser to share before moving to the seating area or even going to the theatre. I wasn’t kept waiting after ordering, either.

I know people don’t often go to bars to eat and drink – but you really could at Polpo.

I’m not going to be dishonest here – I wasn’t taken by the olives, people sitting beside me loved theirs – but I’m really particular about olives. I’ll put it down to a preference for the cheap kind *sunglasses emoji* – when they’re preserved in brine, rather than olive oil. Especially when they’ve been left in the jar for long enough that the tastes combine.

I personally think serving olives with a stone is a risk in a bar that puts you at close proximity with people you don’t know. If I were running the restaurant I’d have a choice between the two.

The decor was thoughtful – and fully instagrammable. The music wasn’t trendy, it had pop moments and trumpet moments and it worked with the customers. I enjoyed people watching. For a moment, when I was cutting my olives – as I had seen it done in an episode of Tom and Jerry – I thought I could hear this song.

Is You Is, Or Is You Ain't My Baby as performed by Tom
My sense of humour is all Cool Runnings and Tom and Jerry. And
the nervous breakdowns in Fawlty Towers.

A Youtube Video uploaded by @Doc Henry

Description: Jazz song from cartoon Tom and Jerry (1946) Performed 
by Ira "Buck" Woods

I was thinking of... Craig the barman... 
Obviously I am not Craig the barman's baby but he wishes I was. I know
because I felt embarrassed for him that he couldn't run out to ask
me for my number. You have five seconds to comply and then you are
very much forgotten, Craig the barman.

Craig the barman was a decent flirt who didn’t need to make eye contact, conversate or otherwise intrude on your meal. Every single woman – and man, I believe – at that bar was obsessing over him. Self included. Who taught you that game, Craig. He was only interested in a girl with a bejewelled marie antoinettey afro – I know because same.

I had a small three course meal for £30. If you’re on a paleo diet (ugh) – or a boxer’s diet – you’d enjoy it.


I was going to dye my hair purple but I walked into a hairdresser’s and they offered me a different price to the one on their list. Offer what you’re advertising, if there are errors in your advertising do not offend potential clients by making creative amendments. You come out looking dishonest and if I can’t trust you to offer me the same price on your price list, I’m not trusting you with my amazing hair.

I’ll do my own hair, it’ll look better than the hairdresser that served me – whose hair did not serve as good advertising for her shop. I hope it wasn’t her shop. What a shame though. She seemed to know exactly how much cash I had in my account too. Such a creep.

I went elsewhere to buy anti-frizz serum and dry shampoo.

Two posts in a day. I’m proud.

I sound sarcastic occasionally when in actuality, I’m only sincere. When I attempt sarcasm it’s usually quite awkward.  Here’s my flat. I live alone. I am great at living with other people but I prefer to live alone. I’m healthier that way.

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I am the kind of person to really enjoy revisiting the past through blog posts. The kind of person to love documenting her bedrooms because I go through them so fast.

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The local butcher told me that his shoppe had been open for a hundred years – and when I sought to pay for the sausages using my bank card he very kindly gifted them to me as he didn’t accept payments from those. That traditional.

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I returned the favour by gifting him a scented candle from a local bookshop the next day, accompanied by a thankyou note. I suppose I ought to remind myself to write to him regarding what I thought about his produce.

The sausages actually took minimal preparation – I popped them into a tinfoil case coated in lemon, and after about twenty minutes in the oven I added a capful of olive oil.

The dish on the side took much more preparation, I used raw chopped spinach, sliced garlic, sliced lemon from the local organic health food store, mozzarella cheese from Tescos, and goats cheese from a local pop up farmer’s market, sliced chilli from Tescos, Shiitake mushrooms and Oyster mushrooms coated in truffle oil and double cream – also from the local pop up farmer’s market.

It’s the first proper meal I’ve prepared myself while I’ve been here – it was delicious.

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I get that the rings look like wedding rings – they cost like, maybe less than a tenner and frankly I’d rather kill myself than marry someone – unless I was trying to get revenge on them for date raping me or something.

You won’t be able to trust any online definitions of the term ‘sublimation’ – it’s transferring emotion into something useful. That is what sublimation is. So if you have feelings of what might be anger (it is very difficult to get me to be angry about anything these days because I am that desensitised to absolute abuse) you ‘focus’ that anger into making art or something along those lines. I cooked some stuff, to take nice photos of.

I was pissed off that someone ripped off my art – they didn’t even TRY to make it look like they hadn’t ripped me off – and they made money for it. A lot of money, going by how much these items sell for.

I was also pissed off that someone had made a three day PAID appointment with me and then cancelled without giving me any kind of notice. I mean if someone can’t clean a table properly/can’t tell the difference between parsley and basil, she shouldn’t be working in a restaurant without one of those ‘I’m new” badges or at least some kind of mention of the fact upon introduction. Or maybe she should just admit “I know nothing”.

I’ve noticed though – that (mostly the foreign ones but not exclusively) people really enjoy pretending to be “the manager” in Brighton – and when you ask “can I speak to the owner please?” they say “I’m the owner”.

I was front of house to a forty head capacity cafe over two floors and I had ONE tantrum throughout the entire period of working there.

A lady refused to have a full english tea (£15) because I didn’t bring her her jug of milk –  she did HAVE a jug of milk, but it wasn’t the milk she had asked for. The cafe was FULL. I called her LAZY because I was outraged that they were trying to avoid paying, because I was protective of my boss whom I knew was struggling financially.
I had serious anorexia (I did think I was fat – but that wasn’t the reason I had anorexia, I had just stopped enjoying food to the point that I physically couldn’t eat it. And I was a size zero and my boyfriend at the time was enjoying how insecure I was. One of the first actual gifts he bought me was a pair of size 14 jeans – when I was a size 0.), I had severe anxiety because he was cheating on me, stealing all of my money and I had severe depression too.  I also had a bowel condition I later learned was technically a disability but we discount that cos like, I’d never not had it.

And that ONE little tantrum lost me my job when I came in the next day with such bad period cramps that I had to go to the bathroom to vomit – (as in my period cramps were that serious at the time. I am lucky I had time to run home and have an episode of liquishits in private that day) and my then-employer thought I was “hung over”. Hilarious – the idea that I could afford to buy enough alcohol to get me drunk when I was being underpaid (as in – not even minimum wage) or that I had the energy to be going out. AS IN IT WAS PROBABLY PREMENSTRUAL TENSION. I was spending my money on weed cos I was living in serious pain and also food for my then boyfriend (I was eating about three/four chicken nuggets a night at the time), chicken + rice and vegetables for my chihuahua and also for stuff to do gardening with.

I am infuriated by incompetence and rudeness from people in service. If you are not well, do not go to work. If you don’t know what dishes you’re serving people, don’t pretend to be a manager.

Do not arrange for people to come in for three days to do a job and then not tell them that you changed your mind – especially if you changed your mind because you’re threatened that they’re hotter than you. I know thats why you don’t want me to work there. And I know you read my blog.

SO. FOOD. YAY.

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JELLYBASE

I experimented using a vegan, Japanese alternative to gelatin. A multi layered jelly to accompany a meringue – coated in the oh so freudian double cream – but it looks like milk, not semen. The level of acting it requires to pretend you enjoy the taste of semen is supreme. Everyone enjoys milk.

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(I OBVIOUSLY wasn’t breastfed and my mother and I despise of one another – but I do enjoy how it looks when women perform sexually while they’re breastfeeding. Which is the point. It’s the real reason as to why cave men didn’t run off. Promise.) (Yes – that IS a disgusting thing to say – but what else will make people realise that it’s DISGUSTING?) (The implication here – is just because it’s “natural” – doesn’t mean you should do it.

If you’re going to play the ‘it’s natural’ card… you’re comparing yourself to people that live like this.

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[reference/source]

Taking a shit in the woods is as natural as humanity can possibly get but does that mean you should do it, having evolved to the point of having TOILETS?) (You work it out.)

Breast feeding – sexualised -in Editorials/Advertising. If these kinds of things make you uncomfortable – you probably didn’t study art. Or psychology.

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Source unknown, I typed in ‘breast feeding editorial’

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The image above was shot by David Lachapelle.

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Tori Amos breast feeding a baby piglet [source]

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Teenagers and men are much more honest about the allure of female than women are. [source]

(The thing that women call ‘bonding’ when they’re breast feeding is actually sexual energy moving from family member to family member to family member.) (I am VEHEMENTLY against breast feeding. I mean – go ahead and use one of those degrading pumps, certainly have one lying around for emergencies – but keep your nipples the hell out of your child’s mouth) (So when I go ‘freudian’ – I AM MAKING A FUCKING JOKE.) (Freudians are the most embarrassing variety of psychiatrist amongst other psychiatrists – but it’s of crucial importance to let them realise – and then let them realise why, and on their own too.) (#karljung #feelingsarereal) (butyoucanveryrarelyseethem)

grrrn

Here’s a story: I told a girl I was friends with to avoid getting knocked up by giving her boyfriend a blowjob before he had a chance to ejaculate. A lot of girls use that but it was mine. It could only come from someone who has an allergy to latex. Mwahaha.

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Do you see all of those patterns I made with double cream in the jelly before it had a chance to set? Psychiatrists call that art Rorschach – it’s when they hold up inkblots and ask you “what do you see?”

Apparently the correct response is “I see ink blots?”

If you have poor eyesight like I do, you’d be very lucky to see ink blots and the psychiatrist would have to be sitting in an unprofessionally close proximity.

JELLY

Baking with silicone hack – place the silicone mould ontop of a baking mit, so it’s easier to move it later. You read it here first. (Not many people are multitasking by cooking with an oven baked dessert at the same time as making jelly.)

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I played around with the designs for the jelly but I didn’t use enough Agar. Next time I will have to use more.

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I used Gordon Ramsay’s BBC version of Meringue (google summer berry meringue, I think) – this time I stuck to the recipe guidelines more closely but I keep adding too much lemon. I can’t help it – and actually the inside is fluffier than most meringues I’ve tried. I’m not especially fond of crunchy deserts. Though I later realised that this isn’t the kind of dessert one would want to eat in a restaurant unless they used a knife and fork, because it is quite stickyicky.

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The jellies fell apart and looked like a fucking mess (but it added to the effect – and my recipe tasted gooood) but the second time around I know the mistakes to avoid. That’s probably why, when you study the sciences, you do experiments two or three times – at least – before the final.

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I’m really enjoying all my subtle feminist essays lately. I wish I had an active audience of educated people who could dialogue about the arts and or feminism, and or exchange knowledge with me.

If there are conversations you are afraid to have – particularly about the female body – do NOT have kids. You’re not mature enough.

FOOOOOOD

This is how I served them.

orange

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The thumbnail art of me, was commissioned from an artist on fiver 
called @dreamybon

I updated my spirituality for kids channel on YouTube with a cute teaser and accompanied it with a little song I channelled Levi to compose digitally. >> Please see my little video here. <<

When I was at University, I saw a job post for a children’s television show. I applied for it but I was concerned that my background in being a very well known blogger who journaled about her very meaningful intimate adventures and the experience of being female might’ve affected it. I find most children’s television boring and unimaginative – the kind with women and men donning ‘bright’ tshirts or embroidered jumpers embellished with sad logos and trainers.

When I was little, I got upset because I noticed my maternal Grandmother had painted lots of beautiful porcelain pieces for my sibling, and not for me. I visited her in Paraguay and at three am, when I was suffering with terrible jetlag… I saw this being aired on television: in ENGLISH.

A word of advice… If you managed to access a tarot reading that was intended for me – there are few blondes worth ‘sticking up’ for – Lady Diana is one of them.

If your blonde isn’t Lady Diana, I mean a true humanitarian that ignored her status to walk amongst people who could have caused her serious harm – to show them true unconditional love – a humanitarian who walked amongst people with diseases and gave them her time, the kind of person who would use her celebrity to draw attention to the nature of bullying, the misfortunes of people suffering with illnesses like aids and who took the first social baby steps required to encourage British people who were suffering with mental illnesses like anorexia and more young women than you might think who practice self harm and self mutilation as a form of emotional release to discuss them and to seek help – then PLEASE don’t bother falling for the manipulation of other blondes. I’m doing YOU a favour here. People forget that we grow from disputes – if you consistently ‘step in’ to protect someone from a dispute that you know nothing about, you’re actually interfering in something that might’ve otherwise had a positive result. Firstly: you cannot befriend someone you cannot argue with. If you seek to protect every blonde, you’re actually doing them a disservice because they will never learn to ‘protect’ themselves. They might also never learn to accept when they are in the wrong.

Sticking up for a blonde, when your intention is to become “popular” – is more often than not – a trap. Popularity is more often than not, a word to describe being surrounded by false people who want something from you. When I was popular – whenever I have been ‘popular’, it has been because people wanted things I had. I had many genuine male friends – male friends that saw my used sanitary towels, male friends that saw my mess, male friends that I shared very serious family secrets with, male friends that knew I had problems and my deepest vulnerabilities. Male friends that saw my armpit hair other bodily hair – and even smelled me when I was on a period and hadn’t had a chance nor could be bothered to shower because my periods make me tired. Male friends that unblocked toilets for me and pretended not to know it wasn’t me. Male friends that I treated, as closely as I could, as though they were more than friends. Male friends that I would give advice to, when they were interested in women that I felt they’d actually suit being in relationships with – because I wasn’t threatened (still am not, sorry) by other women and didn’t want to stop my male friends finding romantic happiness or love or even a one night stand if that was their thing.

Men have been the only people in my life I could ever have wanted to be friends with, and that is because I’ve identified as male. Most often I couldn’t of been in a relationship with the men I was friends with, even if we had moments of attraction towards one another. And often those men would, without my knowing (sometimes with my knowing) use me to make those women jealous. And both would do me a tremendous disservice as a result because I’d be left friendless.

Being friendless isn’t an issue, is nothing I can’t cope with – but I did get raped and sexually molested by the police, even in front of a ‘boyfriend’ – because there was no one around who cared about me enough to listen when I said “Something weird is going on.”

When I had a boyfriend who had friends I didn’t want to be friends with – I let that boyfriend go. Do NOT steal a boyfriend from his friends – because that is toxic – and because later, when you want to break up (and you will – because a person necessarily is the product of the people s/he hangs around with – so when you start ending their friendships, the relationship will suffer.) you’ll both be left with absolutely no one.

Me+You against the world is NOT romantic. It doesn’t work. I haven’t been in a relationship for years, but to say you’ve been in two long term relationships (that is – a relationship that lasted for 3 to 4 years being my first, and my second being a relationship that lasted for 5 years) by the age of twenty nine means that I probably know more about relationships than you do. My sibling is prettier than me, more feminine than me – has had 9-5 jobs working for people that did very important jobs – she can drive and is to an extent, ‘responsible’. She has never been in a proper relationship. She has lots of friends, lots of acquaintances ready to pounce at the chance to be in her life – but when it comes to being in a relationship, I’ve been in relationships with men she would never have had a chance with. I’ve turned down relationships with men she’d of never had a chance with.

Once I was talking to a guy that I’d found on a friend of her’s twitter, he was a music producer and an actual-someone. All of her ‘friends’ were actual-someones. Her friend asked her, to ask me, to stop talking to him – because he was hers first. The moment I was asked, I deleted his details and stopped speaking to him. That kind of decency is hard to come by, you meet a person like me once every ten or so years. We’re pretty easy to take advantage of but also we know that if we are true to what we percieve as values – that when we need it, the goodness is returned to us in equal measure. If you keep stealing other people’s dreams, wishes and aspirations – or even friends or love interests – worse will be done to you by some version of me that doesn’t share my decency. I can take a hard time because that is all I’ve ever known – most people can’t. Don’t give yourself a hard time by fucking good people over. Especially not to make yourself ‘popular’.

It takes a lot of effort and energy to make true friends and to maintain those friendships it takes years of loyalty, disputes and ideally growth. Not everyone needs true friends, but that is a very rare person indeed. We’re taught that all people aspire to is to be loved, not me. If a person like me: takes time out of their (difficult at times, frankly) life to offer you advice – you ought to listen to it. People are not born choosing to “be alone”, they’ve become that way, and they’ve learned the toughest lessons life has to offer through the decision.

But words seldom teach, especially to a generation that has never bothered to pick up a book.

This is somewhat a passive aggression towards a few of the women that stalked me to University – one stalked me to more than one university – copied how I liked to dress, copied my aspirations – didn’t stop thinking about me at all. It’s very tiring to be even remotely associated with people like that.

And it’s insulting when people think that you’re somehow more talented than I am – I inspired your talents.


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How wonderful are these little cakes? The one featured in my video is my Golden Petal pudding and it has an orange filling, without the bits. The recipe can be found >> here. <<

This is the video I didn’t use.

Postsecret was decent this week.

rebound